Chương 5
“Is it bad?” June asked.
“Yes.”
June nodded slowly. “Do you want tea?”
The question was ridiculous and kind.
“Yes,” Eleanor said.
The library door opened before she reached it.
Claire Vance stepped into the hall. Arthur’s older sister was forty-two, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black pantsuit that had wrinkled badly during the day. She had Arthur’s dark eyes but none of his practiced ease.
“What did you do?” Claire asked.
Eleanor stopped.
Behind Claire, Sam sat on the edge of a leather sofa. His funeral tie was gone. The top button of his white shirt had been pulled open, and his dark hair stood up where he had run his hands through it.
An officer stood near the window.
“I went to the hospital,” Eleanor said.
“My brother called me from there. He said you and some doctor ambushed him.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“He said you found one of Audrey’s paranoid recordings and decided it proved he murdered her.”
Sam flinched at the last word.
Eleanor looked at Claire. “Not in front of him.”
“He’s not five.”
“He is fifteen, and his mother was buried this morning.”
“His father was dragged away by police this afternoon.”
“No one dragged him.”
“You saw it?”
“Yes.”
Claire folded her arms. “So you were part of it.”
Sam stood.
“Stop talking around me.”
His voice had changed during the previous year, but grief pushed it upward until Eleanor heard the child he had been.
She entered the library and closed the door behind Claire. The officer remained inside.
Sam looked from one woman to the other.
“Is Dad arrested?”
“Not yet,” Eleanor said.
“Why not yet?”
Claire took a step forward. “Eleanor, you need to be careful.”
“No,” Sam said. “She needs to answer.”
Eleanor sat in the chair opposite him. The black drive remained hidden in her hand.
“A recording was found among your mother’s belongings,” she said. “On it, she accused your father of changing her medication.”
Sam stared at her.
Claire’s face lost some of its certainty.
“That’s all?” Sam asked.
“No. There are medical records that may have been altered. The police are investigating.”
“Dad handled her pills because she forgot.”
“I know.”
“She asked him to.”
“Sometimes she did.”
“He said she took extra doses when she got scared.”
Eleanor felt the drive’s edge against her palm.
“Did you ever see that happen?”
Sam looked toward the floor. “I saw her confused.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“He said it was.”
Claire sat beside him. “Sam, you don’t have to answer questions right now.”
“I’m not answering questions. I’m trying to figure out why everybody lies by using calm voices.”
The sentence belonged so completely to Audrey that Eleanor had to look away.
On the mantel stood a photograph from Sam’s thirteenth birthday. Audrey leaned toward the cake, laughing at something outside the frame. Arthur’s hand rested at the back of her neck. Eleanor had always considered the gesture affectionate.
Now she could not see it without wondering whether he had been guiding her.
Sam watched her looking at the picture.
“Did Dad kill her?”
The officer shifted near the window.
Claire said, “Absolutely not.”
Eleanor said nothing.
Sam’s face tightened. “Grandma.”
“I do not know.”
“You think he did.”
“I think your mother was afraid of him.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
The denial came too fast.
Eleanor waited.
Sam pressed his palms together between his knees. “They argued. Everyone argues.”
“What did they argue about?”
Claire stood. “This is an interrogation.”
The officer finally spoke. “Ma’am, Mrs. Vance is not law enforcement. But anything Sam says may be relevant, so I agree this conversation should stop until a detective speaks with him properly.”
Sam turned on him. “You’ve been standing in my grandmother’s library listening to us since lunch.”
“I arrived forty minutes ago.”
“It feels longer.”
The officer accepted that.
June entered carrying a tray with tea, four cups, and a plate of sandwiches no one had requested. She assessed the room and set it down without comment.
Sam looked at the sandwiches.
“Are those cucumber?”
“Yes,” June said.
“At a funeral?”
“Your grandmother likes them.”
“They taste like wet paper.”
“Then don’t eat one.”
For half a second, Sam’s mouth moved toward a smile. It vanished, but the room changed around the failed attempt.
June poured tea.
Eleanor opened her hand beneath the edge of the tray and slipped the black drive into the pocket of her dress.
Claire noticed.
“What did you just hide?”
“Nothing that belongs to you.”
“My brother says you copied private medical evidence.”
“Your brother speaks quickly when frightened.”
“He is frightened because his wife died and now her mother is accusing him of murder.”
“Did he call you before or after he called a reporter?”
Claire looked at Sam.
The answer was visible.
Sam stood again. “He called a reporter?”
No one responded.
He walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain. Camera crews stood beyond the gate. A reporter in a red coat faced the house while a photographer adjusted a light beneath a plastic cover.
“What did Dad tell them?”
Claire said, “He wanted to protect himself.”
“From Grandma?”
“From a false accusation.”
Sam released the curtain.
His shoulders rose and fell once.
“Mom hated when he did that.”
“Did what?” Eleanor asked.
“Got his version out first.”
Claire’s hand moved toward him. He stepped away.
The officer glanced at the door, probably wishing Detective Ortiz would arrive.
Eleanor forced herself not to ask another question.
Sam looked at her. “Can I stay here tonight?”
Claire said, “You’re coming with me.”
“No.”
“Your father asked me to take you.”
“He also said Mom fell because she took the wrong pills.”
“Sam.”
“He said the alarm didn’t work.”
Eleanor felt the room narrow.
“What alarm?” she asked.
May you like
The officer lifted one hand. “Mrs. Vance.”
Sam looked at him with contempt. “The medical button. She wore it around her neck after she fainted in the kitchen.”
