“It’s okay. We’re just remembering now. It’s not happening now. Did you pick up Bunny?”
“Yes.”
“Were you alone?”
“No.”
I held my breath.
“Sondra was in the water,” Nora said. “When I picked him up, I saw her floating in the water.”
I sagged back against the wall. My mother had fallen in before Nora arrived.
“I killed her.”
“You killed her!” I exclaimed, then softened my voice. “Did you push her? I thought she was already in the water.”
“I didn’t get her out. Holly said I should have pulled her out. Holly said I knew how to swim. I killed Sondra when I didn’t pull her out. But I was too afraid. I knew I should go in, but the water was dark and scary. I thought the river wanted me, too. I rang the bell.”
“Nora, listen to me. You didn’t kill my mother. It wasn’t your fault. You rang the bell. That was a good thing to do.”
Clutching her legs, pressing her forehead against her knees, Nora rocked herself. “Holly said she wouldn’t tell anyone I killed Sondra if I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone I saw her outside. It’s a secret, she said, don’t tell.”
I bit my lip, bit back my anger at Holly. She could be innocent, I argued with myself; she could have been nothing more than scared. She was only eleven at the time. Perhaps she had set up Nora in case she herself were falsely accused, guilty of nothing more than looking out for herself at the expense of someone else. But she had used Nora cruelly, and today she had hit her, left her, and lied to Aunt Jule and me—at least to me.
Nora began to cry. “Holly said you were coming back to Wisteria because you were angry about your mother’s death. She told me not to talk to you and said that you would hurt me if you knew.”
“She was wrong. I’m not going to hurt you, Nora.”
Nora sobbed loudly.
“And you must believe me—you didn’t kill my mother.”
The sobs grew uncontrollable.
“You didn’t. I swear to you!”
Were Frank and Holly working together? What about Nick? I shrank from the thought that he was involved, but he was Frank’s nephew and Holly’s boyfriend, the link between them.
“Nora, why would Frank lock me in here? Do you know?”
Her sobbing grew less as she thought. “To help me?” she guessed.
I doubted it. What puzzled me was the fact that Frank didn’t disguise his effort to trap me. No one would believe what crazy Nora might say, but why wouldn’t Frank worry about an accusation by me?
The answer stopped my breath, shrank my stomach into a cold, hard rock. He wouldn’t worry if I were dead. He planned to kill me.
He—or they—were setting up Nora, beginning to work on her mentally by trapping us together. My death would be hung around her neck. It wouldn’t be hard; she had shown herself confused enough to accept the guilt for my mother’s.
I pulled away slowly from Nora. “I have to get us out of here. I’m going to look for a tool.”
I walked all the way around the boathouse, feeling for something I could use to smash the hinges of the door. The place had been stripped clean.
“Okay, Nora, I’m on the other side now. Don’t get scared. I’m going to scream for help.”
I shouted till I tasted blood in my throat. It was useless. Who would come—Aunt Jule? She couldn’t hear from the house. Besides, she could be part of the plan.
She’d have to be if my inheritance were the goal, and that was the only motivation for murder that I could imagine. Frank, as lawyer and executor of the estate, would be able to process the will as quickly as possible, using his local clout to pull strings if necessary. But Aunt Jule was the designated heir, so there would have to be some agreement between them. As for the tension between my godmother and Frank, partners can quarrel, especially when the stakes are high.
I heard movement outside. I screamed again. Nora started shrieking with me. I hurried around the walkway to her. There was barking.
“Rocky!” I shouted. “Rocky, get help.”
Rocky, get help? What did I think he would do—run off like a dog in a Disney movie and fetch the police? I started laughing and crying at the same time, getting hysterical.
I heard noises at the back wall of the building, Rocky barking, Frank telling him to keep quiet. The noise stopped. I heard Frank leave, his voice fading as he called the dog.
I removed my shoes. “Nora, there’s only one way out of here, under the doors to the river. I’m going to swim under and go for help.”
I put my feet over the side of the walkway, then rolled on my stomach so I could slide into the black water.
“No,” Nora protested. “No, don’t!”
“I’ll be back.”
“She’s in there. She’ll get you.”
Nora pulled on my arms. I was stronger than she and slipped free of her grasp, then thrust myself back in the water. When I straightened my legs and pointed my toes, they barely brushed the silty bottom. I tread water, trying to keep my mouth above it. Its slimy surface coated my arms and neck. Its earthy, sulfurous odor filled my nose and seemed to seep through the pores of my skin.
I turned my head, sniffing something different from river and rot.
“Nora, do you smell smoke?”
I heard her taking in deep, soblike breaths. “Yes.”
For a moment I was so shocked I couldn’t think what to do. It was too horrible—I could not believe that Frank would set the building on fire with us inside.
“Nora, get in. You have to get in the water.”
I heard her pull back against the wall.
“The boathouse is going to burn down. We have to get out of here now. Now! There’s no time. You must come with me.”
“No!”
“I’ll help you. I’ll hold on to you.”
“No!” she shrieked.
It was useless to try to convince her. She wasn’t thinking fire, she was too afraid of water.
“Okay, never mind,” I said quickly, and grasped the edge of the walkway. “Help me get out.”
As soon as her arms were around me, I pulled her into the water. She screamed.
“I’m here. Float on your back. I’ll help you.”
But she was terrified. I fought to get her into a life-saving carry. She clawed at me and tried to climb up on my shoulders. Desperate to get herself above the water, she pushed me under.
I struggled to the surface. Her fingernails dug into my skin. She was much stronger than I’d realized and pushed me down again. I dropped way down, pulling Nora with me, hoping she would panic and let go.
It worked. I swam three feet away from her, then came up for air.
The smell of smoke was strong, smoke and lighter fluid. My eyes stung with it. Nora was treading water but was so frightened she kept gulping it down.
“Get on your back, Nora.”
Her arms flailed wildly toward me, and I propelled myself backward in the water, out of her reach. She went under.
I dived and searched frantically for her, then grabbed her and pulled her to the surface, wrestling her onto her back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bright flame shoot up a corner on the land side of the boathouse. I heard the crackling. Another flame shot up the second corner, as if following a trail of lighter fluid. I thought I heard barking, but it was too late to hope Rocky would draw attention. Doused with an accelerant, the wood in this house could go up in a matter of seconds.
I swam, dragging Nora toward the river doors, then stopped in front of them. She was coughing and I had to make sure she had air.
“Come on, Nora. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. That’s the way. Deep breath in—”
I sucked down my own lungful of air, then pulled her under with me. I swam toward the light, one arm keeping her next to me, kicking hard for both of us. In the murky water I didn’t see the net, didn’t know I had swum into it, until i
t was around us. I pulled back quickly, trying to find its edge.
I had to let go of Nora for a moment. Using both hands I yanked on the netting in front of me, tearing at it with my fingers and teeth, making a hole just big enough for one of us. I swam through it, then reached back and pulled Nora to me.
Almost there, I thought, my lungs burning for lack of air. I took Nora’s hand and curled her fingers around the waistband of my shorts, wanting her to hold on to me so I could use both arms to swim. Suddenly I felt her let go. She bolted like a frightened animal, driven by her instincts, swimming directly upward. I saw the net, but she didn’t. She was caught in it—a new net—a plastic one, one that wouldn’t tear.
Nora clawed at it, pulling it around her even more, getting hopelessly tangled inside. I tried to pull it off her. She writhed, desperate for air. My own lungs ached, my body began to cramp.
I felt the net twisting, being wrenched away from me, and I lost my grip on her. I spun in the water till I was sick and didn’t know which way was up.
Then suddenly there was clear light around me. The air was cold against my face, and I opened my mouth and drank it down. Strong arms held my head just above the water. I gulped and coughed, bringing up river water and a bitter fluid from my stomach.
“Easy. Easy now.”
It was Nick’s voice. Nick’s arms. He turned me on my back and swam with me, pulling me to the bank. I heard Rocky barking. Sirens wailed, were getting louder, coming closer.
I tried to speak. Nora, I wanted to tell him, get Nora!
I felt other hands take me from Nick. I reached back, but they carried me away from him and the water.
“Two hundred feet!” a woman shouted. “Get her away. Go!”
I was finally laid down in the grass. I tried to sit up. Everything slid past me, out of focus, the world running with water, smelling of river and fire. “Nora! Find Nora!”
Someone crouched next to me. An arm wrapped around my back, supporting me. “She’s safe,” Nick said. “She’s just a few feet away.”
I reached out, trying to touch Nora, wanting to make certain she was there.
Nick caught my fingers. “The police are taking care of her,” he assured me. “Paramedics are on the way.”
I leaned back against him and rested my cheek on his shoulder. I could feel the river water dripping off him.
“Thank you,” I whispered. When I looked up, I saw he was crying.
eighteen
I asked to speak with the sheriff privately. I had left Nora sitting up, fully alert, and very frightened. It had taken the effort of both Nick and me to loosen her grip on my hand and wrap it around his. Aunt Jule was talking to the medics. The boathouse smoldered—what remained of it—and volunteer firefighters continued to work. McManus, the man who had questioned me about the rock-throwing incident, told another officer to take charge and walked with me toward the house.
“So,” said the sheriff, sitting on the edge of the porch, pulling out a worn notebook, “I asked yesterday if there was anyone you weren’t getting along with these days. Want to try a different answer?”
“It’s a long one,” I warned him, then recounted everything that had happened, including events from seven years ago, ignoring the strange look I got when I told him about the knots. I mentioned the will without telling him why it worried me. If desire for my mother’s money was a reasonable motive, he would see it, I told myself. The truth was, now that I was safe, I didn’t want to believe it. It hurt too much.
“I don’t have any physical evidence against Frank,” I concluded. “It’s what I say against what he says.”
“And Holly?”
I hesitated. “Like I said before, she could have been scared and protecting herself the night my mother died. The spooky stuff that’s happened—I think that was all Nora. I think Holly hit Nora today, but she may have lost her temper without having any idea what it would lead to. I—I just don’t know.”
The light-haired sheriff pushed his hat back and forth, as if he were scratching his head with it. “Frank’s not here. We checked next door—that’s policy with fire. The house is locked up and his car gone. I’ve already talked to Nick and Jule.”
“What did Aunt Jule tell you?”
He ignored my question. “They’re fetching Holly now. And Nick’s parents—I like a kid’s parents to be around for these things. Why don’t we just sit back and see what Holly has to say, without bringing up what you’ve told me?”
“So she doesn’t shape her story around mine?” I replied. “Is that why you aren’t telling me what Aunt Jule said?”
He smiled. “That wouldn’t be too smart of me, now, would it?”
“What if we pretend Nora died?” I asked. “If we tell Holly that I found Nora unconscious and that Nora died in the fire, she’ll think I know nothing at all about what happened earlier today or the night my mother died. There would be more chances of—” I stopped myself.
“Catching her in a lie?” he prompted.
Was that how little I trusted her now? “Or showing that she is honest,” I replied.
Twenty minutes later we gathered in the garden room. While I was changing into dry clothes, McManus had told Aunt Jule and Nick about our plan and had instructed them not to contradict him. I felt guilty for setting up Holly and kept telling myself I was giving her the chance to demonstrate her innocence, but when I entered the garden room, I couldn’t meet Nick’s or Aunt Jule’s eyes.
Holly had just come from the boathouse, her face looking pale and damp. “Are you all right, Lauren?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered, stepping back quickly when she reached for me, not wanting her to touch me.
She turned to Aunt Jule. “Now maybe you’ll believe that Nora is out of control. I blame you for what has happened, Mother, all of it.”
Without saying a word, Aunt Jule retreated to the river room. Both sets of doors were open between that room and the garden room, and I watched her pace.
Holly walked over to Nick and took his hand. Seating herself close to one of the porch doors, she drew Nick into the chair next to hers. Though the doors were open, both sets of drapes that covered them had been closed halfway. Nora was on the porch outside with a police officer, so she could listen.
I sat opposite Holly and Nick, and the sheriff squatted on the hassock between them and me. He stared at his notebook for several moments, then removed his hat.
“Holly, I have some difficult news to give you. Your sister didn’t make it.”
Holly blinked. “What?”
“Nora died. You know that she and Lauren were trapped in the boathouse.”
“Yes, a firefighter told me, but—”
“Lauren found Nora unconscious. She swam under the doors to get help, but the fire had started, and the place went up like a matchbox.”
“Oh, God,” Holly said. “Oh, God, why?” She turned to me. “How did this happen?”
I told her about the phone call, finding Nora unconscious, then the door being padlocked by Frank. A warning look from McManus silenced me before I said more.
Holly’s eyes filled with tears. “Where’s Frank now?” she asked.
“We’re looking for him,” McManus replied. “He’s not home. Not at his office. It’s starting to look like he’s nowhere in town.”
Holly frowned. “Why would he do this?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” the sheriff told her. “Do you have any theories?”
“No. No, how could I?” Holly said. “It’s horrible! I can’t even imagine it.”
I wanted to end this miserable charade. “Sheriff—” I began.
He cut me off. “I have some theories of my own and would be interested in any ideas or observations you have, Holly. Sometimes little things you notice can go a long way toward giving the big picture.”
“Things like what?” Holly asked.
“A statement someone made that gave you reason to pause. An argument you ove
rheard. Anything that can help us piece this together.”
Holly stared at the floor, biting her lip, then looked up slowly. “Mother?”
Aunt Jule stopped pacing and came to stand in the doorway.
“Mother, what have you told them?”
“What do you mean?” Aunt Jule asked.
“I want to know what you have said to the police.”
“The little I know,” she replied, stepping into the room. “I was home. I heard Rocky barking, but didn’t pay attention. Then I heard the sirens.”
There was a long silence.
“Holly, do you believe there is someone else involved other than Frank?” McManus asked. “Have you seen or heard anything to make you think that?”
“No—maybe,” she said indecisively.
“I’d like to hear about that maybe.”
Holly wrung her hands. “This is ... really unpleasant.” She looked down at her hands and made them still. “I think that Nora wasn’t the one somebody was after.”
McManus leaned forward.
“I think it was Lauren my mother wanted dead.”
Aunt Jule’s face went white. “What are you talking about?” she exclaimed.
Holly kept her eyes on McManus. “Before Lauren’s mother drowned, she wrote a will with the help of Frank. She left everything to Lauren, but if Lauren died before she was eighteen, everything would go to my mother.”
“Holly, what are you saying?” Aunt Jule cried She leaned on the wooden back of a chair, her arm rigid, the rest of her body sagging against it “Do you think I would hurt Lauren? Do you think I would hurt anyone for money?”
Holly straightened her shoulders, steeling herself. “If her name was Sondra or Lauren—yes. I think that you killed Sondra first.”
“I did not!”
“You fought with her constantly that summer,” Holly said, her voice becoming stronger in response to her mother’s denial. “The night she drowned, the arguing was awful.” She turned to me. “Do you remember?”
I saw the curtains move and for a moment was afraid Nora would reply, but she remained quiet.
I looked from Holly to Aunt Jule, not sure whom to believe. Each seemed shocked by what the other had said. Then suddenly the piece that didn’t fit, one tiny observation, slipped into place. Why would a person who planned as well as Holly use a traceable object to strike Nora? Because the lamp was Aunt Jule’s and would have her fingerprints on it What if it wasn’t Nora who was to be framed for my death, but Aunt Jule, who had the most obvious motivation?
Legacy of Lies & Don't Tell Page 14
