Grace snaps her eyes shut.
But her aunt snaps right back.
“Don’t you dare,” she says, shaking Grace back into the room. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Grace barely moves her lips. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Then why were you so eager to get me out of the house?”
“No reason. I just thought you could use a break.”
“Grace, your mother died. The police are going to want to question you.”
Grace fumbles with the call button sitting next to her on the bed, twisting the cord around her fingers like she always does. “Why would they want to talk to me? I don’t know anything.”
“On the phone you said that you saw it happen. You must know what he looks like.”
Grace tries to remember.
“Well, can you describe him?”
“It happened so fast.”
Elizabeth squeezes her niece’s arm but her short fingernails gain no purchase. “You have a good eye, Grace, a memory for detail. I know you can help in some small way.”
Grace stares down at her aunt’s swollen knuckles. Last spring the doctors cut off the wedding ring she’d worn for forty-three years. Her aunt had it mended so she could hang it on a chain around her neck. Grace keeps forgetting to ask her why she doesn’t wear it anymore.
Distracted, Grace asks her aunt if her hands hurt.
“Grace, I’ve got more important things on my mind than my arthritis.” Elizabeth strokes Grace’s arm gently with an outstretched hand. “They had to do a biopsy on your heart to check if everything is okay. Because of the stress you were under they were worried about rejection.”
On impulse, Grace reaches up and puts her hand to her new heart. All she knew about the donor was that he’d been young and healthy when he’d died in a hunting accident. Dr. Gibson had looked sad when Grace had asked about sending a card to the family. Apparently they didn’t want to know Grace.
Elizabeth tries to reassure her niece. “It was just a precaution. Everything is fine.”
“I’d been thinking about her a lot lately.”
“Your mother?”
Grace gazes outside the windows into the fading afternoon light. “I’ve been remembering more about when I lived with her.”
Elizabeth stiffens. “Well, you’ve had a tough time lately. It’s to be expected that you’d be thinking of her.”
Grace picks at her raw cuticles. Her face reddens when her aunt puts out a hand to stop her. “Had you heard from her?”
Elizabeth tears at the rim of her paper cup. “No, sweetheart. Why would you ask such a thing?”
Grace’s eyes slide in her aunt’s direction. “You’d tell me?”
“Of course I’d tell you.”
“I’m sorry.”
There’s a knock at the door and Elizabeth looks up and smiles. “Dustin Ash, how long have you been standing there?”
Dustin brushes back a strand of graying hair that has fallen from his ponytail and steps in the room. Tall and slim, he has a habit of stooping. He smiles apologetically and holds up a pink teddy bear that has a bandage wrapped around its head. It wears a T-shirt that says GET WELL SOON.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I had to see for myself that Grace was okay.”
Elizabeth peers beyond Dustin toward the door. “I’m surprised you got past security. I hope someone is still out there.”
“Don’t worry, Grace is well protected.”
Elizabeth is close to tears. “You’ve always been so good about looking after us.”
“Old habits die hard.”
Elizabeth turns to her niece. “Do you remember when you got lost out at Darby Lake? You must have been seven or eight at the time.”
“No, I don’t think so.” A few days earlier Grace told Dustin she was too old for stuffed animals but he seems to have forgotten already. She takes a quick glance up at him. He doesn’t look as angry as she thought he might be.
“Of course you remember,” Elizabeth insists. “We searched for hours. The sheriff even came out to help.”
Dustin raises his deep-set eyes. “It was pitch-dark when I found you asleep under a tree. You seemed to be the only one that wasn’t worried.”
Elizabeth’s words are sharp. “That’s because she didn’t understand the danger she was in. I still don’t know what possessed her to wander off like that.”
Grace can still hear them shouting her name. Flashlight beams had darted through the woods like fireflies. She’d gone looking for her mother. She had seven dollars and twenty-three cents in her pocket and a map she’d stolen from her uncle’s truck.
Dustin tilts his head. “I’m just grateful I was there when you needed me.”
Grace looks at Dustin and their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds. She owes him so much.
When her uncle Arnold was still alive he threw a party at the house on Summit Road every year for his employees and their wives. After one too many beers her uncle had humiliated Grace in front of his friends so she’d gone off and sulked, sitting out on the back porch of an unfinished house a few hundred yards away. She was eleven, but felt four, and aside from a few geeky girls she’d met in Sunday school she was friendless.
Walter Nielson came looking for her. He sat down next to her on the step and patted her knee in a friendly way. It seemed as if he’d been working for her uncle as a truck driver since the beginning of time. He’d also known Grace’s mom. Grace trusted him.
He held out his beer. Just like his body, his fingers were big and fat. “Go ahead,” he said, offering it to Grace. “Have some. Will do you good to have some fun.”
Grace hesitated but he insisted so she held the beer with both hands and put it to her lips. In that moment he took the opportunity to put his hands up her dress. She sat frozen with the bottle in her mouth, swallowing hard and pretending she wasn’t there and it wasn’t happening. In her mind she floated above the porch, watching Grace and Walter from her perch among the latticework of two-by-fours tracking through the unfinished roof. But Walter didn’t go away, and his hands stayed where they were. He had one hand inside her panties and the other one was down his own trousers. His face was twisted up into shapes she’d not seen on a man before. He pushed his way on top of her and groaned into her neck, his hot breath on her cheeks, his swollen lips eventually closing over her mouth. She looked past him up into the darkening sky and thought about the number of ways she could die. Walter mumbled into her neck that she was his baby girl and she imagined jumping off the north bridge into the Flathead River, slipping into the dark water, never to be found again. There were all kinds of ways she could die. Walter, however, seemed impervious. She didn’t know how to get away from him.
It was Dustin who came to her rescue. Shaped like a whippet, he was surprisingly strong. He grabbed Walter by the throat, pounding his big round head hard into the pavement and threatening to kill him if he ever so much as looked at Grace again. Walter staggered off toward the woods. That was the last time Grace saw him. He died in an alleyway in Boise a week later. Someone bashed his head in with a baseball bat.
Dustin clears his throat before handing Grace the teddy bear. “I brought you a little present. I know it’s a bit childish, but I guess a part of me doesn’t want you to grow up.”
“Thank you,” she says, setting it on her lap. “It’s very sweet of you to come by.”
“It’s the least I could do. How are you feeling?”
Grace holds the bear close to her chest. “Fine, thank you.”
Elizabeth lets out a heavy sigh. “Quit lying, Grace. You’re not fine.” She looks up at Dustin. “You know she’s lucky to be alive. She saw the killer.”
Dustin gazes directly at Grace. “Is that true?”
“I didn’t see him properly,” she says, her face reddening. “He was too far away.”
Elizabeth huffs about, looking on the floor for her handbag. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else about hi
m?”
Grace wipes some tears from her face. “I could tell he was big because he made my mother look really small.”
Elizabeth offers a mint to Dustin before popping one into her mouth. “Big, as in fat?”
“I’m not sure. He was wearing one of those puffer jackets.”
Dustin sits down on the edge of the bed and pats Grace’s leg. “Weren’t you scared?”
Grace closes her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Elizabeth takes her niece’s hand and tells her not to worry. “Grace, I’m going to get something to eat. You want anything?”
Grace imagines lumpy mashed potatoes and says a quiet no.
Trying to stand, Elizabeth fights like a child trapped in a stroller. Her arms and legs reach forward, but gravity keeps her rear end trapped in the seat. She shuffles one hip at a time before pushing up with her chicken-winged arms until she’s standing solid in her beige orthopedic shoes.
Elizabeth breathes heavily. “What about you, Dustin?” She slings the thick strap of her handbag over her shoulder and manages a smile. “Would you like to join me?”
Dustin glances over at Grace. “If it’s okay with Grace, I’ll stay here and keep her company until you get back. She shouldn’t be on her own.”
Elizabeth leans over and kisses her niece on the forehead. “I won’t be long,” she says before heading for the open door.
Dustin sits quietly for a few minutes. His head is dipped and Grace thinks he might be praying. He looks up and his eyes are moist.
“I’m really sorry,” he says.
Grace watches his hand settle on her leg again. “You shouldn’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
5
Flying like goose down, snow swirls around the hospital’s parking lot in dizzying spirals. Even though it’s not yet noon daylight is dying. There is nothing to guide Macy to the main entrance. She slowly makes her way along the row of parked cars, stopping every so often to look around. A cold wind blows hard, kicking up more snow. Ahead of her the large gray building emerges from the gloom before vanishing just as quickly. She drops her head into the wind and plows through the parking lot toward it.
Ray calls her when she’s halfway there. “I’m at the hospital now,” she says, holding the phone to her ear and carefully making her way along what feels like a raised walkway.
“What did you find out from Grace Adams?”
“I just got here, Ray. I’ve not had a chance to interview her.”
“It’s nearly eleven. What have you been doing?”
“Have you seen the weather forecast? It took me a half hour to drive two miles.”
The hospital is a large, six-story structure, but the snow is so thick she can’t see it anymore. A horn sounds, and she jumps, almost dropping the phone. The iced-over headlights are just a few feet away. She waves and keeps walking, taking hold of the side of a pickup truck parked nearby and edging along it so she won’t get off track again.
“I’m going to have to call you back,” she says, slipping the phone into her pocket. She stands up straight and glances around. There’s a low rectangle sign in the distance. She’s nearly on top of it when she realizes she’s arrived at the emergency room entrance. Somehow she’s missed the main entrance and come to the far side of the building.
Outside on the pavement a woman wearing a private security uniform stands hunched smoking a cigarette under an overhang. Her thick body is bundled in a dark jacket and hat. In her large, bare hands the cigarette she’s holding looks like a matchstick.
The woman laughs, setting off a coughing fit. “I was just about to come out and rescue you.”
Macy dips her chin into her coat and tries to smile. She can feel the cold seeping through her thick boots. “It’s really blowing now.”
“Just wait. We’re supposed to have a real storm move through the valley in a couple days’ time.”
Macy shivers. “It’s nice to have something to look forward to.”
“You’re the detective they were talking about on the news?”
Macy draws herself farther into her jacket and does a three-quarter turn. She looks the woman over for a few seconds and decides it’s best to keep it friendly. “Guilty as charged,” she says.
“Going in to have a little talk with Grace?”
Macy wraps her arms around her body for warmth. “That’s the idea.”
“Well, good luck with that. She’s an odd one.”
Macy leaves the woman alone with her cigarette and heads inside. In the waiting area a few people sit scattered among the rows of seats. Each time Macy’s eyes fall on someone they turn away. Some stare at the floor, some at a television playing music videos, and others turn back to their newspapers. Macy asks the nurse standing at the admissions counter where she can find the elevator. Instead of answering right away the nurse makes Macy wait while she finishes reading a report. The woman’s name tag is decorated with hearts, and her hair, which is pulled back in a severe ponytail, is secured with a bright pink ribbon. She closes a file and puts it to one side before staring at Macy blankly.
“Sorry,” says Macy. “I’m a little lost. Could you please direct me to an elevator?”
The nurse points a pink fingernail at Macy’s cell phone. “You can’t use phones in here.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m leaving.” Macy smiles, but her eyes are cold. She tilts her head and shows more teeth. “The elevator?”
On the second floor Macy stops outside the cafeteria doors and peers in through the windows. Warren sits at a table holding a cup of coffee aloft like he’s reading what’s written on its base. A petite woman occupies the chair across from him with her back to Macy.
As Macy approaches, Warren rises from his chair and reaches out a hand to greet her. “I see you found your way here easily enough.”
The woman sitting across from him doesn’t look up from her meal. She raises a small bite of food to her mouth and stares straight ahead. She chews slowly and carefully. When she’s finished Warren clears his throat and introduces Macy to Elizabeth Lamm.
Macy observes Elizabeth closely. It’s impossible to reconcile the woman in front of her with the one she met previously. Eleven years earlier Elizabeth had a helmet of hair and wore tailored jackets and skirts. Loyal to the end, she always appeared at her husband’s side whenever he was called in for an interview with the police. Macy shrinks back and prays she isn’t recognized.
Elizabeth Lamm’s cornflower blue eyes snap up and catch hold of Macy. “I remember you,” she says quietly, holding out a hand. “It’s been a long time.”
Macy takes hold of the hand. It is warm and powder dry but there is none of the strength in the grip that was there before.
Elizabeth withdraws her hand and drops her gaze. “And now I suppose you’re here to pick apart my family again.”
Macy peels off her scarf. “I don’t have a lot of choice. Leanne was your sister.”
“Please don’t call her my sister. Leanne lost any claim to sibling fealty years ago.”
“Regardless, nobody deserves to die like that.”
The blue eyes catch Macy again. “We’re all entitled to our own opinion.”
“What about Grace?” she says, taking an empty chair. “Does she have an opinion?”
Elizabeth Lamm puts down her fork and stares at Macy without speaking.
“You know I’m going to have to speak to her.”
Elizabeth drops her eyes to her plate. “That’s out of the question. She needs to rest.”
“Has she said anything to you?”
“She said she didn’t get a good look at him.”
Macy waits, but nothing more is forthcoming. She tries a new angle. “I understand you only just started going back to work.”
“Yes, it’s only a part-time job but I’d taken as much time off as I could while Grace was recuperating from her operation. Yesterday was my first full day in weeks.”
“How did Grace seem when you left the house?”
Elizabeth hesitates. “She seemed excited, which was a nice change. She’s been given a new lease on life. Some days she’s euphoric.”
“And other days?”
“Less so. It’s been a huge adjustment for her.”
“I can imagine.”
“With all due respect, I don’t think you can.”
Macy slips her notebook out of her bag and puts it down in front of her. The room is empty save a table in the far corner. The doors open and Jared and the nurse she’d spoken to earlier walk into the room and head over to the self-service area. Even from a distance Macy can tell they’re a couple. For some reason she’s relieved to see that Jared looks miserable. The woman next to him is chatting gaily while he’s slumped so low it looks as if he’s trying to disappear.
Macy turns her attention back to Elizabeth. “Are you comfortable speaking here or would you rather go somewhere more private?”
“Here is fine. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Tell me more about Grace’s state of mind. You’ve said she was excited yesterday morning. Did you know she was wearing a red nightie when they found her out in the snow? According to the first responders she was nearly naked.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks redden. “I truly have no idea. It belonged to her mother.”
“Did she say if she was meeting anyone? Had anyone been coming to the house?”
“She’s only been out of the hospital a couple of weeks. No one has visited aside from my girlfriends.”
Macy looks at Warren. “Did you tell her about the roses?”
Warren clears his throat. “No, not yet.”
Elizabeth looks up at the sheriff. “Roses?”
Macy keeps her voice low. “We found a bouquet in one of the garbage bins. They were still wrapped in their packaging. If you don’t know anything about them, we have to assume the killer brought them with him.”
Elizabeth’s hands start to shake. “I don’t understand. Why would he bring roses?”
“Grace might have a stalker.” Warren presses his palms flat onto the table. The knuckles on one of his hands are swollen and bruised. “Leanne may have come across him spying on Grace. Maybe she confronted him.”
Bone Dust White Page 6
