The Drowned Woman

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The Drowned Woman Page 13

by Terry Lynn Thomas


  ‘That’s not going to happen,’ Zeke said. ‘I’ll bring her to our house if I have to.’

  I wanted to run back to the house, away from Zeke and Joe, but I was too hot, and my feet were killing me from the two mile walk home. What I needed, what I craved, was a big glass of water and a cold bath.

  * * *

  Detective Bateson and a uniformed police officer were waiting by the front door when we arrived at the house. The detective blocked my door, all but preventing me from exiting the car. ‘You’re the one I want to speak with. Get out here. Now.’

  ‘Get away from the car, Bateson,’ Zeke said. ‘She’s going to rest. You can see her tomorrow morning.’

  I do love my husband, I thought. He came around to my side of the car, careful to position his body between Detective Bateson and me.

  ‘Your wife went to see her friend Helen today, and now the girl has disappeared.’

  ‘What happened? Where did she go?’

  Detective Bateson looked at Zeke, as if waiting for a man, or someone with some authority over me, to take over. Zeke didn’t say a word. Joe leaned against the car, the telltale signs of a smile etched into the corner of his mouth. I liked Joe just then. I liked him just fine.

  ‘We don’t know. After you left the house, one of my officers went to get her. She was gone.’

  ‘So you lost her?’ Joe said.

  ‘I need your help finding her.’

  ‘Why didn’t you listen to me yesterday?’ I asked.

  ‘You shouldn’t have let your wife get involved, Zeke. Surely you can control her,’ Detective Bateson said.

  ‘Bateson, you have absolutely no understanding of women. God help the one who marries you,’ Zeke said.

  ‘We should help him,’ Joe said, ‘for Helen’s sake. She’s not safe out there alone.’

  ‘We’ll find her. She’s an ignorant girl. How far do you think she can get? Once we find her, we’ll keep her in protective custody,’ Detective Bateson said.

  ‘You will do no such thing. She’s going to stay in my care,’ Zeke said.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t. Just don’t. I’ve just about had it with you.’

  ‘Let’s meet at the station in half an hour,’ Joe said, all but ignoring Detective Bateson. ‘We can figure out what resources we have and how best to use them.’

  ‘Now listen here, Connor. This is my investigation—’

  ‘Half an hour,’ Joe said to Zeke. He got behind the wheel of Detective Bateson’s car. ‘Wait a second, Connor,’ Detective Bateson said. He opened the door and managed to scramble in, just as Joe Connor pulled away.

  ‘I don’t think you should come with us,’ Zeke said. He expected me to argue, demand that I be able to join them as they searched for Helen. But I didn’t have the strength, and I knew full well that I would just be a source of worry for Zeke and Joe.

  ‘You’ll find her, won’t you?’

  The look in Zeke’s eyes spoke a thousand words, but he didn’t respond to my question. My husband didn’t make promises that he couldn’t keep.

  ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ He kissed my cheek and was gone.

  Craving privacy and some time away from all the Caen family drama, I stepped into the cool darkness of our bedroom. Not bothering to turn on the light, I kicked off my shoes, slipped my dress over my head, and left it in a filthy heap on the floor. I sat down on the sofa and was slipping off my stockings when there was a knock at the door. I thought about ignoring whoever it was, but Daphne barged in. I bit back my resentment when I saw that she carried a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of sandwiches. I hadn’t eaten all day. The food and drink were a welcome sight indeed.

  ‘I’m sorry to barge in,’ she said.

  I flipped on the lamp and made a spot for the tray on the coffee table.

  ‘Thanks.’ Daphne set the tray down and poured me a glass of lemonade.

  ‘I saw you walk up the driveway and get in the car with Zeke and Joe. Where did you go?’ I didn’t want to answer questions right now. I didn’t want to deal with Daphne, even though she had come to me in friendship.

  ‘You’re exhausted. I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I am so hot. It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘I took the train to Chesterton,’ I said. ‘Dr Geisler needed me to speak to someone there to verify a few things on the manuscript I am working on.’

  ‘Chesterton? That seems like an awful long way.’

  ‘It was, but the man helped me, and my employer will be happy with the results of my trip.’

  ‘I so admire you for your career. I hope you realize how lucky you are to have so much independence. Do you mind?’ She pointed to the second glass on the tray.

  ‘Not at all,’ I lied. I went into the bathroom, turned on the water to fill the tub, tied my dressing gown over my slip, and joined Daphne in the sitting room.

  ‘Are you and Zeke going to have children?’ she asked

  ‘Haven’t given it much thought,’ I said, another lie. ‘At some point, we are going to have to deal with our mess in Sausalito. Our house, the insurance, all that awaits us when we return home.’

  ‘So you don’t think you’ll stay here?’

  ‘Zeke will stay until things are sorted.’ I set my empty glass down, looked longingly at the bathtub and hoped Daphne would take the hint.

  ‘I’m sorry for you, Sarah.’ She stood and gave me a quick hug. ‘I’m here, if you want to talk, or if I can do anything.’

  ‘That means a lot, Daphne. Thanks.’

  ‘See you at dinner.’ She let herself out the door. After her footsteps faded away, I locked the door against other intruders and got into the tub.

  An hour later, I emerged cleansed of dust and sweat and the events of the day. I poured myself another glass of lemonade, not caring that the ice had melted it into water, and drank it slowly. I opened the wardrobe and selected a turquoise linen dress that I would wear down to dinner. I had one box of stockings left and wondered if I would ever again be able to get this fine silk, sheer and thin as a butterfly’s wings. I moved over to the dresser and opened the drawer where my slips and camisoles had been arranged into symmetrical piles by Helen. The space where the box that contained my pearl necklace and earrings should have lain stood bare. Frantic, I rifled through the drawer. The pearls were gone. Someone had stolen my jewelry.

  Chapter 14

  I tore apart my dresser, tossing my clothes on the floor, not caring where they landed. The pearls were gone. The fountain pen was gone. My house was gone. Zeke found me sitting in a puddle of sunlight, the drawers from my dresser, along with the clothes that they held, scattered around me.

  He held out a hand and hoisted me to my feet, enveloping me in a hug with one motion. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘The Climber stole my pearls and my fountain pen,’ I said, ‘and I have nothing of my past. My entire life – our life – is in ashes in Sausalito. The only jewelry I own has been stolen. The pen has been stolen.’

  ‘I see you’ve conducted a diligent search,’ Zeke said. ‘Do you want help putting your clothes away?’

  ‘What are we going to do? Where are we going to live? Are we going back to Sausalito?’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ He brushed my cheek with his fingers.

  I paused a moment, surveying the wreckage of my room.

  ‘Find Helen, exonerate Simon,’ I said. ‘It’s hard to make plans with those two things hanging over our heads.’

  ‘I think I may be required to stay here for at least a month or two. Simon needs my help. After we deal with the legal issues, he is going to need me to help get the mill up and running to full efficiency. But never mind that. I’ll leave tomorrow if you want.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. We’ll find a place to live that we both like. No need for anyone to be miserable.’

  ‘You’re so logical
,’ I said.

  ‘And you’re so emotional.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘We don’t have to decide anything right now. Why don’t we just stay here until it’s time to go, and trust that we’ll know when that is.’

  He led me to the sofa. We sat down next to each other. A breeze came through the open window. The curtain undulated, like a wave. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a portent of rain and the promise of a break in the heat. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back. Something niggled at the back of my mind, and just like that, the missing piece clicked into place.

  ‘Oh.’ I stood up, walked to the window. ‘I cannot believe I didn’t figure it out sooner.’

  ‘You – what?’

  ‘The way she moves. I’d have recognized that nimble gait of hers anywhere. What a blind fool I’ve been.’

  ‘Sarah, my love, what are you talking about?’

  ‘Sophie,’ I said. ‘It’s Sophie. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Sophie Winslow is the Millport Climber.’

  ‘Sophie? That is totally absurd,’ Zeke said. ‘I’ve known that girl my whole life—’

  ‘And that, dear husband, is your problem. You have this preconceived idea of who she is based on your knowledge of her as a child. Put yourself in her shoes for a minute. She has absolutely no freedom. Her mother bullies her in public. Arliss slapped her as though she were an aberrant teenager. How old is Sophie? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? And she just kowtows to her mother. Arliss won’t let her go anywhere, do anything, or have any freedom.’ I watched Zeke, gauging his reaction to my words. ‘You and I have both said that the Climber is doing this for thrills, and that’s why the heists are getting riskier and riskier. Think about it. It makes sense, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Good god,’ Zeke said. I waited for him to absorb my words. ‘Your assumptions are sound, if looked at from a certain perspective. Let’s say you’re right, for argument’s sake. What do we do? Call Joe? Do you want Sophie to go to jail?’

  ‘No. I don’t think she deserves that,’ I said.

  ‘Listen to yourself,’ Zeke said. He unlaced his shoes before he kicked them off and put his feet on the coffee table.

  ‘I’m well aware of what I’m saying,’ I said.

  ‘Sarah, you don’t get to decide the punishment for people who have committed crimes. It doesn’t work that way. If – and this is a big if – Sophie is indeed the Climber, she will need to pay the price, like all other criminals. Granted, her mother will probably get her a good lawyer, just because she will have no stomach for the scandal that will go along with Sophie’s arrest.’

  ‘Poor Sophie,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean, poor Sophie? That girl has been nothing but rude to you since we got here.’

  ‘I know, but after witnessing the way Arliss treats her – I’d rather be an orphan than have a mother like Arliss Winslow. Can we just leave the police out of it? What if she gives everything back?’

  Zeke laughed out loud.

  ‘No, we can’t do that. Let’s tell Wade what we suspect. Let him handle it. He’s the master at making problems go away.’

  ‘You’re brilliant,’ I said, planting a kiss on his lips. I smiled at the thought of Arliss Winslow and Wade Connor going to battle over Sophie.

  My money was on Wade, no question.

  * * *

  The thunder rumbled, but the rain didn’t come. The locals waited for the deluge with a calm patience born of experience. Not me. I suffered and took cold baths to ease my pain. Thursday morning dawned as hot as ever.

  Zeke had gone downstairs to fetch our tray of coffee, toast, and fresh marmalade. He poured his coffee and took it into the bath, where he splashed in the water, singing in a fine baritone.

  Nick Newland’s article appeared on the front page of the morning paper: MILLPORT MURDER TIED TO 1939 SUICIDE! CASE REOPENED. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED – MILLPORT PD STUMPED!

  I tossed the paper aside and had just sat down at my desk, when Wade Connor walked into the sitting room, rapping on the door as he pushed his way in.

  ‘Good thing I’m dressed,’ I said. ‘What are you doing here? It’s only eight o’clock.’

  ‘Good morning to you, too. Zeke called and asked me to come. He said there was something you wanted to talk to me about. I can come back,’ he said.

  ‘Good morning.’ Zeke came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, buttoning his shirt as he walked. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ And in that manner that belonged to Wade exclusively, we got down to business. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I think I’m going to let Sarah explain,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Sarah? Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’ Wade sat down on the chair next to the sofa. I glanced at Rachel’s portrait. She stared down at me, strong and sure.

  ‘I think Sophie Winslow is the Millport Climber,’ I said. When Wade started to huff and puff, I interrupted. ‘Just wait, Wade, please. Listen.’

  ‘Fine.’ He took the cup on the tray that was intended for me. ‘Go ahead.’

  I told him what I thought, explained the reasoning behind my theory. I told him of the encounter I witnessed between Sophie and her mother on the night of the party. ‘It was something about the carriage of her shoulders, and the way she looked side to side before she entered the building. It was Sophie. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘We don’t think she had anything to do with Rachel’s murder or the theft of the emeralds,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Then how did the emeralds wind up in Simon’s desk?’ Wade asked.

  ‘We don’t know,’ Zeke and I said at the same time.

  ‘You two are just a regular vaudeville act, aren’t you? If this is true, if Sophie really is the Climber, Arliss Winslow will make everyone’s life miserable. You realize that, of course. I’m guessing that’s why you called me.’ Wade had the grace to laugh. ‘I’ve always loathed that woman. And I know firsthand that she treats Sophie reprehensibly.’ He stood up. ‘Thanks for telling me. Let me think about it. I’ll talk to Joe, and we’ll figure something out.’ Zeke and Wade shook hands. Wade nodded at me and let himself out the door.

  ‘Well, at least we don’t have to deal with that,’ Zeke said. He kissed my cheek and breezed out the door, leaving me to the stack of handwritten notes and the typewriter.

  I forced myself to sit down at my desk and work, but couldn’t shake my ever increasing worry about Helen. When I made the same typo for the fourth time, I pushed away from the desk, wanting to do something productive, but not sure what that something was. Rachel stared down at me from her portrait, taunting me from her lofty position above the fireplace.

  ‘What should I do?’ I said. ‘Show me what to do.’ My voice echoed in the stillness. Rachel didn’t answer me.

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  I headed out into the morning sunshine, breathing in the fresh air and making a concerted effort to ignore the FBI men that were entrenched at various positions around the property. Two of them followed me as I headed down the path to the woods. I planned on circling the lake and heading home, a respectable distance which should clear the cobwebs. Things were coming to a head here in Millport. I knew that once Wade Connor made it known that Sophie was the Climber, Arliss Winslow would be on the warpath. It wouldn’t take her long to discover that I was responsible for the revelation of her daughter’s malfeasance. She would be furious with me, of that I was certain. She would set out to discredit me and ruin me socially. Arliss Winslow’s wrath didn’t bother me. Social ruin in the town didn’t bother me, either.

  By the time I’d walked the circumference of the lake and headed back to the house, my head was clear, my step purposeful. I nodded at the two FBI men who had followed me around the lake. They wore suits and ties and were both wringing wet with sweat.

  ‘If you come in, I’ll give you some lemonade,’ I called out.

  ‘No, thanks, ma’am. You go on in.’ They waved at me and took their places in the shade under some t
rees.

  I met Mrs Griswold in the hall carrying a basket of Toby’s clothes, the majority of them covered with dust and grime, to the washing machine in the basement.

  ‘He’s a sweet boy, but if there is dirt, he will be in it.’ She smiled at me.

  ‘Mrs Griswold, can you see that the FBI men get something cold to drink? I asked them to come in, but they refused.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll see to it right away. Did you go out the back door when you left for your walk?’

  ‘No. I went out the front. Why?’

  Mrs Griswold furrowed her brow and shook her head. ‘It’s strange. I thought I heard footsteps and a door closing. I’ve searched the house. All the doors are locked and there’s not a soul here, except the two of us. No one could have got past those agents outside.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Probably my imagination.’

  Mrs Griswold and I had only known each other for a short time, but she did not strike me as someone who saw things that weren’t there.

  ‘Do you think we should have one of the agents come in and double check the house?’ I asked.

  She shook her head. ‘No. It’s nothing, I’m sure.’

  The minute I let myself into my room I sensed my heartbeat was not the only one in the room. I closed the door behind me and stood silent, daring not to breathe. As Zeke instructed, my gun lay at the ready in my desk drawer. I kicked off my shoes, so as not to make any noise, and retrieved it. I held it with a shaking hand and moved into the bathroom. I swished the shower curtain aside. No one. I opened the curtains to reveal the bay window. No one. I tiptoed into my bedroom, stopping short when I saw the figure lying on my bed. I pointed the gun with a shaking hand just as the person snored and turned on her side to face me.

  Helen. Fast asleep on my bed.

  Chapter 15

 

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