“Friend of yours?” Hannah asked.
“No.” Bertie’s tone was flat. “Although at one time he and I were close. At least I thought we were. It turned out I was wrong. Kenny isn’t the kind of guy who knows what to do with real emotion. Mostly he just enjoys manipulating people—and getting his own way.”
Hannah nodded. She was listening. And maybe thinking of someone she knew who fit the same description.
“Kenny thought he was the most important guy in the world. When we were together, he had me believing that crap too.”
“But then you came to your senses,” I interjected. “And you left him.”
“I did,” Bertie acknowledged. “But not soon enough. Not until he’d banged my head against a wall, given me a black eye, and threatened me with much worse.”
Hannah sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Bertie said softly. “But the really crummy thing about the whole experience was that even after I’d left Kenny, I couldn’t put it behind me. For a long time I was convinced that everything that had happened was my fault. That there was something wrong with me that made Kenny act that way.”
“That’s not true,” I said.
“I know that now.” Bertie looked over at Hannah and me. “But back then, nobody ever talked about this stuff. You were just supposed to pretend everything was fine and go on with your life. Because the alternative—the idea of admitting that you’d allowed some guy to turn you into a victim—was too embarrassing to contemplate.”
Hannah scowled. “You should have fought back.”
“You’re right, I should have,” Bertie agreed. “But I was younger then, and a lot less experienced. I didn’t even realize how he was molding me into what he wanted until it was too late—and then I didn’t possess the tools to fight back. Kenny was older, bigger, and stronger than me. When he told me I was worthless, I believed him.”
Faith had gotten tired of racing around with the two younger Standard Poodles. Panting happily, she dropped back to my side. I took off one glove and curled my fingers through her hair. Izzy and Tar, meanwhile, were dodging in and out of the trees ahead of us, engaged in a lively game of tag.
Hannah turned to Bertie. “Why are you telling me this stuff?”
“Because it sounds like you also got involved with a man who took advantage of you. Someone who made you feel powerless, just like I did with Kenny.”
“Dammit,” Hannah swore. She rounded on me. “I never said anything like that. What have you been telling people about me?”
“It wasn’t what you said when we spoke before,” I told her. “It was what you didn’t say. Especially when I considered everything else I learned about Victor.”
“Like what?”
“It appears that he intended to drug Aunt Peg right before she was due to judge the group at Westminster.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
I described the encounter that had taken place between them. Her face grew pale as I spoke. She sputtered a harsh laugh when I admitted that I’d nearly broken Victor’s finger.
“Serves him right,” she said.
The three of us smiled in complicit agreement.
“That wasn’t the first time Victor tried to get away with something underhanded,” I continued. “Mattie Gainer complained about him cornering her at club meetings. Louise Bixby told me he was trouble. And even his godmother, Olivia Wren, called him a cad.”
I paused to let that sink in, then said gently, “Victor did something to you too, didn’t he?”
Hannah didn’t answer. Instead, she jammed her hands in her pockets and strode quickly up the trail, leaving me and Bertie behind.
“Now what?” Bertie asked under her breath.
I shrugged. “Now we catch up.”
“I know you’re the one who sent the note at the specialty that started the fight between Victor and Louise,” I called after her.
Hannah spun around to face us. “Why would I do that?”
“Maybe because you wanted to make Victor look like an idiot at his own show?” I guessed.
“Victor didn’t need me to make him look like an idiot,” she snapped. “He was fully capable of managing that all on his own.”
“Louise told me she didn’t feel well that afternoon,” I pressed on. “And her judging certainly reflected that. She said the only things she had to eat or drink at the show were the coffee and brownie you brought her. You put something in her food, didn’t you?”
“Why would I care how Louise felt?” Hannah demanded. “Maybe she was coming down with the flu.”
“The flu,” I mused. “That’s a good excuse. Is that what you told Victor when he began to feel queasy after you drugged him on Tuesday night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hannah snarled. “This stuff you’re saying is crazy.”
“I don’t think it is,” I said quietly
Hannah’s angry gaze flicked between Bertie and me. “You can think all you want, but you know nothing. I can’t believe you came out here pretending to be sympathetic, acting like you care about what happened to me, when all you really want is to trick me into blurting out something I shouldn’t.” Her voice rose sharply. “Are you listening to me? You know nothing!”
“Bertie and I are both listening,” I said. “Tell us what we don’t know.”
Hannah’s face was mottled with outrage. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. For a moment I thought she was going to turn away from us again. But then a sob rose up from deep in her throat and suddenly her eyes looked haunted. It was as though a wall had crumbled inside her, and then the words came pouring out in a rush.
“Victor Durbin raped me,” Hannah snapped. “He roofied my drink during the club Christmas party, took me into a bathroom, and raped me. Victor treated me like I was garbage, just a body he could use any way he wanted. And he made sure there wasn’t a single thing I could do to stop him.”
Her booted foot stamped down hard in the crusty snow. Faith jumped back as small shards of ice sliced through the air. I quickly shifted her behind me.
“Now you know the truth,” Hannah growled. “And I hope you’re satisfied. I know I am. Because I made sure that Victor got exactly what he deserved.”
Chapter 28
The dense woods around us swallowed Hannah’s angry words as if they’d never been uttered at all. But they had. Bertie and I had both heard them. And now I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut. This was the point where I was supposed to feel a sense of achievement. Instead, I was consumed by a deep well of sadness.
I had accomplished what I’d set out to do. I had found Victor’s killer—only to realize that my sympathies lay with her rather than her victim. I couldn’t bring myself to condemn Hannah for her actions. What she’d done was terrible, but she’d lashed out in anger to right a wrong. And the world was a better place without Victor Durbin in it.
While I stood frozen in place, Bertie responded with compassion. She spread her arms open wide and walked across the small space that separated us from Hannah. I thought Hannah might turn away. Instead, I watched as her angry defiance crumbled. When Bertie wrapped her arms around Hannah, the other woman let herself accept the embrace.
For a minute Hannah’s posture remained wooden. Her arms were stiff at her sides. But Bertie simply continued to hold her and eventually Hannah relaxed. Then she gulped in several deep breaths, and her body began to shudder with heartfelt sobs.
Seconds later, I heard Bertie sniffle too. I reached up with a gloved hand to brush away the moisture coating my own lashes before it could begin to freeze. Beside me, Faith whined softly under her breath. She wanted to offer comfort. She just didn’t know where to start.
“It’s okay,” I told her softly. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
I hate it when I have to lie to a dog. But in this case the deceit felt justified. Faith needed to know that everything in her world
would be all right. For now, that would have to be enough.
Tar and Izzy came circling back to us. The white Poodle looked around briefly, puzzled by the scene. Like Faith, she sensed something was wrong. Quickly Izzy scrambled through the snow to get to her owner. She tried to wedge her body between Hannah’s and Bertie’s legs.
The two women pulled apart fractionally. As Bertie’s arms slid away, Hannah squatted down beside Izzy. She buried her face in the Poodle’s warm coat.
Bertie returned to my side. She and I gave Izzy and Hannah a moment. We couldn’t stand still for long, however. The wind had risen. The bare branches that formed a canopy over the trail were rattling above our heads. It was too cold not to keep moving.
Hannah must have realized that. She pulled away from Izzy and looked up at us. “So now what happens?”
“You need to talk to the police,” I told her.
Immediately Hannah shook her head.
“You have to get a lawyer and turn yourself in.”
Hannah levered herself to her feet. “How can you say that, knowing what Victor did to me? I acted in self-defense.” Her gaze swung Bertie’s way. “You of all people should understand that.”
“I understand how you felt,” Bertie said. “There were times when I thought Kenny deserved to die for the way he treated me. Maybe I even fantasized about killing him. But the difference is I didn’t do it.”
“Maybe you should have.” Hannah’s gaze glittered with malice. “I didn’t just fantasize about it, I made a plan. And you know what? After all the things I worried about, all the pieces I put together so meticulously—securing the marijuana, perfecting the dosage before using it on Victor, scoping out the scene to find just the right place to take him—none of it proved necessary. Do you know why?”
Bertie and I shook our heads.
“Because when the time came, it was easy. Victor just about fell into my hands. When I offered to buy him a drink, he didn’t hesitate to accept. When I told him I wanted to go someplace where we could be alone, he followed me like a stupid fool. Victor’s ego was so huge that it never crossed his mind I wouldn’t want to have sex with him again. He never suspected my motives for a second.”
Thinking back, Hannah smiled with satisfaction. “The moment when hot-and-heavy Victor had to abandon his idea of why he thought we were alone, and realized what was actually happening to him? That was a real rush. I’m glad I decided to use a knife, because stabbing Victor made perfect sense. It was a violation of his body, just like he’d violated mine.”
While she was speaking, I’d begun to shiver. I didn’t know whether the sharp wind now whipping through the trees was the cause, or whether it was Hannah’s dispassionate—almost disdainful—description of the deed that had chilled me to my core. But suddenly I was done listening. I wanted to be moving again.
“Let’s go,” I said sharply. “It’s time to head back.”
Bertie and I waited until Hannah started walking; then we both fell in behind her. The trail we’d taken formed a long loop. I figured we were about a mile away from the parking lot.
Faith and the other two Poodles skipped on ahead. When a squirrel popped out from behind a tree, all three dogs took off in pursuit.
Hannah watched them go, then glanced back at Bertie and me over her shoulder. She appeared to be taking our measure, attempting to decipher our reactions to the story she’d told. She had to be wondering whether or not she’d succeeded in convincing us that her actions had been justified.
We’d been walking only a minute or two when she opted to state her case again. “You both know Victor was a terrible person. And once I realized what he was capable of, I had to stop him. I couldn’t let him do to anyone else what he’d done to me.”
“I understand that.” I was willing to say almost anything that would keep Hannah walking and talking.
“So we’re all in agreement, right? What I told you is just between us. No one else needs to know.”
Even after everything, I still liked Hannah. So I told her the truth. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
She stopped and turned around. “Why not?”
“It’s too late. I’ve already told a couple of other people about my suspicions.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Who?”
“Detective Hronis of the New Canaan PD, for one.”
Hannah’s nose was red from the cold. So when her cheeks blanched, the contrast was even more apparent. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I thought someone in authority should know. But it turned out the detective didn’t believe me.”
“Smart man.” Hannah nodded approvingly. “Who else?”
“Aunt Peg.”
“Dammit!” She winced. “Not her.”
I almost laughed. It appeared Hannah was more concerned about what Aunt Peg might do than she was fearful of repercussions she could face from the police.
“I’m afraid so.”
“You can fix that,” she said quickly. “Tell her you were wrong.”
“She won’t believe me.”
“Sure she will,” Hannah persisted. “Peg always thinks you’re wrong about something.”
“Only about things that don’t really matter,” Bertie put in. “Not a matter like this.”
Hannah scowled at both of us. “I’m not going to jail. Not for doing what needed to be done. Everybody hated Victor. It’s not my fault that I was the only one who was brave enough to act.”
“You don’t have to convince us,” Bertie said. “Melanie and I aren’t your judge and jury.”
“But you do need to hire a good lawyer,” I told her. “Someone who will go to the police with you and argue that there were mitigating circumstances surrounding Victor’s death.”
“I acted in self-defense,” Hannah insisted. “Anyone can see that.”
Anyone who chose to ignore the six weeks of waiting and planning between the time of Hannah’s rape and the day she took her revenge, I thought. I opted not to mention that.
The Poodles had given up trying to catch their squirrel. All three came trotting back down the trail toward us. Hannah called Izzy over to her side.
I did the same with Faith. As she drew near, I watched the Poodle move and assessed her condition. She looked happy but her tongue was hanging out of the side of her mouth. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t overexerting herself trying to keep up with the younger dogs.
Focused on Faith, I missed the moment when Hannah grabbed Izzy’s collar and yanked the white Poodle sideways. The two of them leapt off the cleared trail and went running into the woods together.
“Hey!” Bertie yelled. “Come back here!”
I looked up then, just in time to see Hannah and Izzy disappear into the dense thicket of trees. “Let them go. It doesn’t make any difference if Hannah runs away. If the police decide they want to talk to her, they’ll be able to find her.”
“I don’t care about Hannah.” Bertie had already hopped over the small drift of deeper snow on the side of the trail, preparing to follow in their wake. “I was calling Tar. He must have thought it was a game when Hannah and Izzy took off. Because he went with them.”
Dammit, how had I missed that? I spun around, looking in all directions. Tar was nowhere to be seen. I called out the big black dog’s name. There was no response.
I moved quickly to join Bertie. “Hannah’s probably planning to cut through the woods to beat us to the parking lot. We need to catch up before she gets in her car and leaves.”
Bertie was already forging a path through the heavy snow. “You don’t think she’d take Tar with her, do you?”
“At this point, I have no idea what she might be capable of doing,” I replied grimly. “And I’d just as soon not have to find out.”
Faith immediately took the lead. The snow was deep, but the trio running ahead of us had left tracks for us to follow. The Standard Poodle hopped nimbly from one set of footprints to the next. Bertie and I had to work to keep up.
Even with the trail partially trampled flat, it was slow going. Tree trunks pressed close on either side. Underbrush clogged the gaps in between. It was midafternoon but the sun was already beginning to dip lower in the sky. Within the confines of the forest, it was hard to see even ten feet ahead.
When the trail of broken snow cut sharply to the left, I hoped we were still heading in the right direction. I paused to whistle sharply for Tar. Blowing heavily, Bertie stopped beside me.
“I’m not sure this is right,” she said, gesturing back the other way. “I think the parking lot should be over there. I hope Faith hasn’t got us following after a possum or a wolverine.”
“There aren’t any wolverines in Waveny Park,” I told her. At least I hoped there weren’t.
Bertie frowned. “Is there any reason why Hannah wouldn’t take the most direct route to the carriage house?”
“I don’t know. She hikes these trails every day. She must know the whole area really well. Maybe there’s a creek in the other direction she doesn’t want to ford. Or maybe she’s trying to get us lost.”
“Lost.” Bertie blew out a derisive breath. “You can’t get lost in New Canaan. Let’s grab Faith and head back in the other direction. We’ve got boots on. I’m willing to plow through some water if it means we can beat her to the parking lot.”
I was all for taking a shortcut if we could find one. We hadn’t even been in the woods for ten minutes, but already it felt as though the shadows were closing in around us. I couldn’t wait to leave the thick snarl of trees behind.
We struck out in a new direction. Every few steps, I paused to call out Tar’s name. The lack of a response was disheartening. Tar wasn’t the smartest dog, but he was still a Standard Poodle. He must have realized by now that he’d followed the wrong person. I kept expecting to see that big goofy dog come bounding back to us through the snow. But it didn’t happen.
“Maybe Hannah’s holding on to him,” Bertie speculated.
I’d wondered about the same thing. My fingers curled around the unused leash in my pocket. “That’s all the more reason to hurry up and find them.”
Game of Dog Bones Page 23
