‘Sounds like you’re pretty convinced that Randy Knoedler is the key.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Tom. ‘Just trying to cover all the bases.’
‘Well, I won’t keep you,’ said Blair.
‘That was good work you did,’ Tom said, hurrying to reassure her. ‘I’d tend to rule out Joe Reese but, like you, I find that thing about the sock keeps coming back to me,’ said Tom.
Blair did not have to ask what he meant. ‘I know,’ she said.
From downstairs Blair could hear the sound of the front door slamming, as Ellis shouted. Poor Darlene, she thought. She’s getting a glimpse of the real Ellis. The fact is that she is too good for him. She might as well realize it now. Blair reminded herself that she and Tom were busily speculating about Darlene’s brother. Her twin. It all suddenly seemed impossibly far-fetched. A bus driver. A Church deacon. A bit dull but a perfectly nice man. Not a man who would bludgeon a twelve year old, and leave her to die in the woods. Blair suddenly felt uneasy. Darlene would be so hurt if she found out about their suspicions. She didn’t deserve that.
‘It was all so long ago,’ Blair sighed doubtfully.
Blair could feel Tom withdraw. ‘What are you saying?’ he asked.
‘It just seems a little … hopeless after all this time,’ she said.
‘Well, it’s your money. If you don’t feel like paying for it …’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ said Blair. ‘It’s just such a long shot.’
Tom was silent for a moment. ‘I do think these are leads worth pursuing. Not that I’m promising anything,’ he said.
‘I understand,’ said Blair. She heard a car start in front of the house. She pulled back the curtain and looked out to see Darlene’s little compact car pulling out of the driveway.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Tom said.
Before Blair could reply, he ended the call. Blair closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. The house was silent again. Too silent.
‘Bye,’ she said.
TWENTY-THREE
The following morning, Blair knocked on the door of Malcolm’s room and looked in.
‘I thought I’d make some breakfast,’ she said. ‘What would you like?’
‘Pancakes,’ he said instantly. Then he frowned at her. ‘Do you know how to make those?’
‘Actually, I do,’ said Blair. ‘It used to be one of my specialties. Give me about fifteen minutes.’
Blair started to pull the door closed when he called after her. ‘Do you know if my other hoody’s dry? Darlene washed it last night.’
‘I’ll see if it’s in the dryer,’ said Blair. She went past Ellis’s room, which was dark. She had heard him go out early. She was glad she wouldn’t have to see him after the blow-up of last night. He was bound to be in a foul mood. She went downstairs and turned on the lights as she went through the house. It was going to be another gloomy day, she thought.
She was taking the pancake mix out of the kitchen cabinet when she remembered Malcolm’s hoody. She went out to the enclosed back porch and opened the door to the dryer. There was nothing inside. She opened the lid of the rusted washer and there were Malcolm’s clothes, still wet and flattened against the walls of the washer tub. She pulled them out and put them in the dryer on high. Then she went back into the kitchen and began to read the pancake box. She wasn’t fond of pancakes anymore, but she wasn’t kidding when she told Malcolm that she had been an expert at making them. Often, pancakes were what she and Celeste ate for dinner during their childhood. Now, on a rare day when she sat down to breakfast, she liked a frittata with vegetables, washed down with a mimosa. But she could still remember how comforting she had found that smell of pancakes when she was a child. It reminded her of Sunday mornings with her mother. Later, after her mother’s death, that smell had also signified, to her and to Celeste, that they knew how make a hot meal, which didn’t require the begrudging assistance of Uncle Ellis.
Malcolm came into the kitchen.
‘Did you find my hoody?’ he asked.
‘It’s in the dryer on high,’ said Blair. ‘It’ll be dry by the time we finish eating.’
Malcolm flopped down at the table and began to study the screen on his phone. Blair went about finishing and plating the pancakes, and set their two plates down on the table. Malcolm immediately picked up his fork and began to shovel them in his mouth.
‘These are good,’ he said.
‘Haven’t lost my touch,’ said Blair, smiling. As she lifted her own fork, her phone rang and she answered. To her surprise, it was Darlene.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ said Darlene, ‘but I think I left my prescription on the kitchen table.’
‘I’m sitting right here,’ said Blair. ‘I’ll look.’
There were a couple of transparent, pumpkin-colored plastic bottles with white lids clustered on a tile on the table. Blair began to read the labels. Most of them were for Uncle Ellis. But there was one vial that had Darlene’s name printed on it. There was something kind of touching about the way they had consolidated their pill bottles. Love among the old, Blair thought.
‘Here we go,’ she said. ‘These are yours.’
‘I thought so,’ said Darlene. ‘I left in such a hurry.’
‘I’ll just leave them here,’ said Blair. ‘You can come get them anytime.’
‘That’s just it,’ Darlene said, and Blair could hear the anguish in her voice. ‘I would rather not come over there.’
‘Oh,’ said Blair, taken aback.
‘I don’t want to run into … your uncle,’ Darlene explained. ‘I wonder if I could ask you a favor … could you possibly bring them to me?’
‘Sure, I’ll bring them to you,’ said Blair. ‘Where are you working?’
‘Oh, this job is too far. It’s about forty minutes away from town.’
‘Well, if you need them …’ said Blair.
‘I don’t take them till after dinner,’ said Darlene. ‘Would you mind awfully just bringing them to my house? I’d ask my brother to come get them, but I think he’s on a run to New York City today.’
‘Not at all,’ said Blair. ‘I’ll be happy to.’
‘You’re a lifesaver.’
‘It’s the least I could do,’ said Blair. ‘But listen. What’s this about you and my uncle? I mean you don’t have to tell me any details. I just thought things were going well.’
There was silence on Darlene’s end, and then she sighed.
‘They were,’ said Darlene. ‘I thought so. But last night …’
Blair waited. When Darlene did not continue, Blair said, ‘I heard you arguing.’
Darlene hesitated. Then she said, ‘You may as well know what happened. I went to use the washing machine. You know, for Malcolm’s clothes. Remember he spilled his plate …’
‘Yeah, sure,’ said Blair.
‘Well, I was looking for fabric softener in that cupboard above the washer and there …’
Blair frowned. ‘What?’
‘I just couldn’t believe my eyes … The cupboard was jam-packed with Nazi paraphernalia. A helmet. Pieces of uniforms. Medals with swastikas. SS insignias. Nazi propaganda. It was … sickening.’
‘Oh, you didn’t know that about him,’ said Blair.
‘Did you?’ Darlene asked.
‘Oh sure,’ said Blair. ‘All that shit was on display through my whole childhood. Pardon the expression. But it was horrible. I thought you knew.’
‘Good Lord, no,’ said Darlene. ‘I would never … No. My father was a soldier in that war. He was killed by the Nazis before I was even born. When she found out, my mother had a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized. That’s where my brother and I were born. In a … mental hospital. We were sent to different relatives to be raised. It was awful. Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud that my father died for his country. But for anyone to idolize the Nazis? When I asked your uncle how he could even think about collecting those things, he said … well, never mind. It wa
s just horrible. I couldn’t believe my ears.’ Her indignation burned through the phone.
‘I am so sorry, Darlene.’
‘It’s not your fault, dear.’
‘I still feel ashamed of it,’ said Blair.
‘Nothing for you to be ashamed of. It’s your uncle who should be ashamed.’
‘Still, I’m sorry you had to find that stuff.’
‘Just as well,’ said Darlene tartly. ‘Before we got any further along.’
‘You make it sound like you don’t think you’ll get back together.’
‘I couldn’t,’ said Darlene.
Blair heard the finality in her voice. ‘Ok. Well, don’t worry. I’ll bring these pills over to your house.’
‘There’s a box on the back porch for packages. You can leave them in there.’
‘I will,’ said Blair. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Malcolm was staring at her when Blair ended the call.
‘What happened with Darlene?’ he asked.
‘Oh, she forgot her pills here,’ said Blair.
‘She’s mad at Uncle Ellis,’ said Malcolm.
Blair nodded slowly. ‘She is.’
‘Is she coming back?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Blair.
‘But why?’ Malcolm wailed.
She wondered if he knew anything about the Nazis. If he’d even understand. She decided to minimize that part.
‘They don’t have the same views about things,’ said Blair.
‘It’s cause he likes the Nazis, right?’ said Malcolm.
Blair was taken aback. Malcolm was staring steadily at her. Then, she nodded.
‘Right.’
Malcolm stabbed his pancakes angrily. ‘Why does he do that? Everybody knows they were the worst.’
Blair was relieved to hear him say it. ‘That’s true. They were evil,’ she said. ‘I have never understood why Uncle Ellis had this sick fascination for them. Frankly, I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to interest you in his horrible collection.’
‘He did try,’ said Malcolm. ‘Mom found out and yelled at him.’
Celeste finally found her courage, Blair thought. ‘Your mom and I were always ashamed of having that stuff in our house.’
Malcolm sighed. ‘I liked having Darlene around,’ he said sorrowfully.
‘I know,’ Blair said. Thank goodness, she thought, gazing at her nephew, you won’t be here much longer. There won’t be any fascist memorabilia at Amanda’s house. Of course, Ellis would then be free to display every sick item he owned.
As if he had read her mind, Malcolm said, ‘I don’t get it. Uncle Ellis isn’t evil. Why would he like that stuff?’
Blair studied her nephew thoughtfully. Clearly, to Malcolm, Ellis was not a bad man.
‘That’s a good question,’ said Blair, with a sigh.
Malcolm had left for school and Blair was folding the last of the laundry when her phone rang. It was Eric, at the office.
‘Blair,’ he said, an edge of anxiety in his voice. ‘Do you know how much longer it’s gonna be till you get back?’
‘Not much,’ said Blair.
‘Cause everyone’s trying to cover for you but …’
‘Eric. If I could be there, I would. I’m hoping to be able to return very soon. I think we’re getting closer to some answers here.’ She didn’t know if that were really true or not, but she said what she had to say to stall him.
‘We can’t lose this Hahnemann account.’
‘We won’t,’ said Blair with a firmness she did not actually feel, but Eric seemed reassured and asked her to let him know ASAP when her return would be. She said it would be soon, but after she ended the call, she was more conflicted than ever. She wanted to get back to work, but a man’s life was at stake. What could be more important? She wondered if Tom had gotten anywhere with Randy Knoedler. She had texted him but there was no reply. She took a quick shower and, as she was getting ready to leave the house, she glanced at her phone again, to see if she might have missed a call while she was in the bathroom. Nothing from Tom. She threw her phone in her bag, along with Darlene’s vial of pills and she hurried out the door.
As she approached the Reese place on Fulling Mill Road, she saw that a truck was exiting the driveway, preventing her entry. As she drew closer, she recognized her uncle’s pickup. She put on her turn signal and waited. Their eyes met. As Ellis recognized her, his furtive gaze became suddenly angry. She could see him gesturing for her to move on, not to turn into the driveway. Blair watched him as if he were signaling her from the moon. I don’t have to listen to you any more, old man. I don’t have to do what you say.
Seeing that his angry gesticulations were having no effect, Ellis turned out the driveway and turned in Blair’s direction, pulling up beside her in the middle of the road. He rolled down the window of his truck and gestured for her to do the same.
Blair lowered her window and gazed at him impassively.
‘What are you doing here?’ Ellis demanded.
‘I’m doing a favor for Darlene. I might ask you the same question.’
‘Just drive on,’ he said. ‘Stay out of my business.’
For a moment, Blair almost felt sorry for him. Darlene was not his business anymore. ‘I heard she didn’t appreciate your collection,’ said Blair.
‘No one wants your opinion,’ Ellis said acidly. ‘No one is interested.’
A car had pulled up behind Blair and the driver was waiting, without honking the horn. He could see the two drivers talking to one another. Blair glanced in the rearview mirror and then looked back at Ellis.
‘Gotta go,’ she said.
Ellis started to shout something at her, but Blair pressed the button on the door, and the window slid upwards, drowning him out. She raised a hand in farewell and made the turn into the driveway.
TWENTY-FOUR
Everything looked peaceful at the Reese farm as Blair pulled up beside the dark, quiet house and parked. From the car she could see the wooden box on the side porch, which Darlene had referred to on the phone. Blair slipped the vial of pills into her pocket and got out of the car. She walked across the frozen grass, still crunchy with patches of snow and approached the foot of the steps. She looked up at the back door and that was when she realized that up close, all was not, in fact, perfectly peaceful. The bottom half of the side door to the house was solid, but the top half was mullioned windows. Now that she was close, she could see that the window pane nearest the doorknob was shattered. Hunks and shards of glass were scattered around the bottom of the door. Someone had obviously used force to break the pane.
Blair turned and looked down the empty driveway. What were you thinking, Uncle Ellis, she wondered? It had to have been you. Everywhere she looked there was glass. Darlene and her brother had obviously not gone off to work and left it that way. She could still picture the furtive, guilty look on Ellis’s face, as he waited to turn out of the driveway.
This was actually criminal, Blair thought. She knew that Ellis was mad at Darlene, but she had never thought he would stoop so low as to break Darlene’s window on purpose. Her first impulse was to leave the mess just as she found it, put the vial of pills into the wooden box, and drive away. When Joe and Darlene got home, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out who had done this and then Ellis would get what was coming to him.
But curiosity overcame her. It looked as if he had broken the window to get into the house and she shuddered to think what he might have done inside. What had been his purpose? To wreak havoc on Darlene’s house? How destructive had he been?
Blair picked her way to the door, trying to avoid the shards of glass on the porch floor. There were still a few ragged triangles of glass sticking up from the broken pane, and she could see that there were rivulets of blood running down onto the white painted frame, where Ellis must have put his hand through the window to try and reach the lock inside. Blair hesitated. She didn’t want to reach through the treacherous remains of that window
pane as Ellis had. She would probably end up bloody too. Suddenly it occurred to her to wonder if he had bothered to lock the door behind him when he left.
She reached down for the doorknob. The doorknob turned and the door swung open. That was easy, she thought. She stepped carefully over the lintel and into the dark kitchen. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness and then she looked around. The room appeared to be completely in order. There was a little jug of flowers on the kitchen table. A dishtowel was neatly folded beside the sink and there were several dishes in the drainer. She flipped the light switch beside the door to get a better look. Everything was in order except for a line of blood droplets on the floor which formed a trail through the house.
Being careful not to step in the wet blood, Blair followed the trail through the rooms. The droplets led through the dining room. The dining room also seemed undisturbed. Blair continued on. It was difficult to see the blood spattered on the patterned Oriental rug in the living room. It was camouflaged by the pattern in the rug. But Blair thought, as she looked around, the living room had also been left alone. Blair passed through it and followed the trail again as it started up the stairs. What a mess, she thought, looking around. What in the world was Ellis thinking? She got to the top of the stairs and saw that the scarlet trail led to a bedroom on the right. The door to the room was closed. Blair felt a sudden anxiety about going in. How violent an act had this been? Could Ellis have found someone at home, unexpectedly, and made them the brunt of his anger? As irritable and bad-natured as he could be, Ellis had never been violent towards Blair or Celeste. Blair wouldn’t put it past him, but it wasn’t necessarily in his nature, either. Maybe you should just call the police, she thought. She gripped her phone in her hand, wondering. But she decided that she had to know what the police would find when they got there and to see if, perhaps, there was some way she could minimize the damage. She realized, to her own surprise, that she didn’t want her uncle to be arrested if there was a way to avoid it.
I’m only thinking of Malcolm, she told herself. That was reason enough.
The boy had been through so much already. He didn’t need another upheaval in his life. Uncle Ellis in jail. Not unless Uncle Ellis had done something truly terrible … Blair shook her head and made up her mind. She stepped up to the bedroom door and turned the knob. The door slowly swung open and, grimacing in anticipation, she looked inside.
The Girl in the Woods Page 19