Chương 5
“I know.”
“Where is it?”
Helena looked toward the curtain.
“Brooke took it.”
“When?”
“Before the police came.”
“Why?”
“She said I was upsetting myself.”
Clara’s fingers tightened around the purse strap. “Did she know you called 911?”
“I used the kitchen phone.”
“The landline?”
“Yes.”
Clara had forgotten Helena still kept it. For years, Arthur teased her about paying for a line used mainly by pharmacies and political surveys. Helena always answered that cell phones ran out of batteries and walls did not wander away.
“What happened before you called?”
Helena adjusted the blanket with her good hand. “Ask me like a daughter.”
Clara pulled the chair closer.
“What happened, Mom?”
Helena’s gaze rested on Clara’s wet hair. “You should have dried yourself.”
“Mom.”
“I found a letter from the bank.”
“What letter?”
“It said I had requested a home-equity line.”
Clara sat very still.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“How much?”
“One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.”
The number seemed too large for the room.
Helena’s house was a narrow brick colonial on Robin Street, bought when Clara was fourteen. Their father had refinanced it twice and complained every month about the payment. After he died, Helena paid off the remaining balance with life-insurance money and refused to borrow against it again. She kept the deed in a floral document box beneath winter scarves.
“Who signed the request?” Clara asked.
“My name was on it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Helena’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Arthur handles some of my online banking.”
Clara looked away.
The monitor beside the bed marked Helena’s heartbeats with green flashes.
“How long?”
“Since my cataract surgery.”
“That was three years ago.”
“I can count.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would do this.”
“This what?”
“Turn into a badge.”
Clara felt the answer in her shoulders. “Someone forged your signature for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you?”
Helena’s good eye hardened.
Clara exhaled and lowered her hands to her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re furious.”
“I can be both.”
“That sounds like something from a training manual.”
“It probably is.”
Helena looked toward the ceiling. For a few seconds neither spoke. A cart rattled past outside. Somewhere nearby, a nurse asked an unseen patient to rate his pain from one to ten, and the man answered eleven.
Helena said, “I asked Arthur about the letter. Brooke came in while we were talking. She said it was a mistake.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“She didn’t say.”
“What did Arthur say?”
“Not much. He kept opening and closing a kitchen drawer.”
Clara saw it easily. The drawer beside the stove stuck in humid weather. Arthur had been slamming it since childhood instead of lifting slightly as he pulled.
“Then Brooke said I’d agreed to help them.”
“Had you?”
“I agreed to loan them twenty thousand for the restaurant.”
Clara frowned. “What restaurant?”
“They were going to buy into a place near the interstate.”
“When?”
“Last winter.”
“That was eight months ago.”
“They had trouble with the lease.”
“Did you give them the money?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked at her mother.
Helena turned her face away.
“How much in total?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom.”
“I said I don’t know.”
The heart monitor quickened.
Clara forced her voice down. “All right.”
“No, it isn’t all right. I didn’t tell you because you already think Arthur is weak.”
“I think Arthur avoids responsibility until someone else pays for it.”
“That is a polished way to say weak.”
“He used your account.”
“He’s my son.”
“So am I only family when somebody needs an investigator?”
Helena’s face changed, and Clara regretted the words before their last sound left her mouth.
She stood. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.”
“I’m going to get Agent Chen.”
“Sit down.”
Clara remained standing.
“Please,” Helena said.
She sat.
Helena looked at her brace. “Brooke said I was trying to destroy their marriage. She said Arthur had finally started something for himself and I was punishing him because it didn’t include me.”
“What did Arthur do?”
“He told her to stop.”
“Did he mean it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what?”
“I said I would call the bank in the morning. Brooke took my phone. I went for the kitchen line. She pulled it from my hand.”
“The corded phone?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the cord?”
“It came out of the wall. I picked up the bat.”
Clara’s attention narrowed. “Why was there a bat in the kitchen?”
“Arthur brought it inside from the garage. He was going to give it to somebody at work. Signed by a player.”
“Which player?”
“I don’t know. Someone who makes grown men pay too much for wood.”
Under other circumstances Clara might have laughed.
“Did you threaten Brooke with it?”
“I told her to put my phone down.”
“Did you swing it?”
“No.”
Helena’s fingers curled against the blanket. “Arthur took it from me.”
“What happened then?”
“Brooke took it from him.”
The monitor continued its green counting.
“She hit you with it?”
“Not at first.”
Helena’s voice thinned. “She held it across my chest and pushed me against the counter. I fell. When I tried to get up, she hit my side.”
“Once?”
“I think so.”
“Did Arthur see?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He pulled her back.”
“Then?”
“Brooke started crying. She said I had attacked her. Arthur kept saying, ‘What did you do?’ but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at me.”
Clara stared at the edge of the bed.
“Who called police?”
“Brooke used Arthur’s phone.”
“What did she say?”
“That I had a weapon. That I was confused. That I had threatened to kill her.”
“Did she say you struck her?”
“After the officer arrived.”
“Which officer?”
“I don’t know. Young. Thin. He had rain on his eyelashes.”
“Not Morgan?”
“No. Morgan was at the station.”
“What happened to the bat?”
Helena closed her eyes.
May you like
“Arthur carried it outside.”
The answer was quiet enough that Clara nearly asked her to repeat it.
