All Fall Down (17 page)

1

“I hope all of you finished reading
Walden
,” Blaine said to her third-period Advanced Literature class. “Who can tell me what Walden Pond symbolizes in the book?”

Several pairs of eyes shifted uncomfortably, studiously looking away from her, always a dead giveaway that their owners hadn’t finished the assignment. Blaine waited five seconds, smiled at them, then said, “Is someone going to volunteer an answer, or do I have to choose a victim?”

Suddenly the classroom door flew back, crashing against the wall. A couple of girls cried out, and Blaine blanched as a woman with frizzy, mouse-colored hair and blazing dark eyes stormed into the room.

“You!” she shouted at Blaine. “You filthy, black-hearted murderer!”

Blaine was so startled she took a step backward before she said, “Who are you?” in a thin, high voice.

“Who am I? Who
am
I? I’m the mother of a girl you killed.”

“Mrs. Foss?”

Kathy’s mother whirled on the class, her gray wool coat flapping open to reveal faded, wrinkled slacks and a high-necked blouse with what appeared to be a large coffee stain on the front. “You see—she doesn’t deny it!”

Several students gasped, and they all seemed to shrink in their seats as if ducking blows. Blaine’s heart pounded in the face of this woman’s wild-eyed fury, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and say steadily, “Mrs. Foss, you shouldn’t be here.”

“
I
shouldn’t be here!” Her lips were dry and cracked. “
You—
you murdering filth!
—you
shouldn’t be here! Wolf among the sheep!” She turned to the class and began to shriek, “Wolf among the sheep! Wolf among the sheep!”

From the corner of her eye Blaine saw Dean Newman rise at the back of the room and begin edging forward. At the same time, John appeared in the doorway. “What in God’s name—” he began.

Mrs. Foss spun to face him. “Yes, in God’s name! That’s why I’m here—in God’s name. To get this abomination”—her hand whipped out in Blaine’s direction—“away from these innocent children. Innocent
girls
. Girls like my Kathy. My Kathy, who’s going to be laid in her grave Saturday morning!”

Abruptly the woman wheeled and flew at Blaine, hands formed into claws. Blaine instinctively raised her own hands and, with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, grabbed the woman’s wrists and held them in a rigid grasp. Mrs. Foss screamed and fought, kicking at Blaine, trying to wrench her arms from Blaine’s iron grip while her hands with their long nails opened and closed spasmodically. Dean and John grabbed one shoulder each, trying to pull her away from Blaine. “Turn her loose,” John said. But Blaine’s hands seemed frozen on the woman’s wrists. “Blaine, let her go!” he shouted. “Let
go!
”

Blaine’s hands snapped open, releasing Mrs. Foss. Immediately she began screeching again. “She’s killed before! Her own husband! Now she’s killing innocent young girls. You saw it—all of you saw it. She has the strength of a demon. A
demon
, I’m telling you!”

Dean and John dragged the hysterical woman toward the door. She clasped her hands around the doorframe and held fast. John at last jerked her forcefully. Her grip loosened, and they propelled her down the hall.

“She’s a murderer!” the woman screamed in the empty corridor. “She’s a murderer, and mark my words, the killings aren’t over yet! They aren’t over yet!”

2

Twenty minutes later, after repeated attempts to locate Mr. Foss had failed and Mrs. Foss was growing more hysterical by the minute, the emergency squad arrived to tranquilize her and take her to the hospital. Ten minutes after the woman had been strapped onto a stretcher and hauled away, Blaine sat in the principal’s office, shaken and embarrassed.

He looked at her solemnly. “That was quite a scene.”

“I know, Mr. Hooper,” she said miserably, holding a styrofoam cup of coffee the secretary, Jean Lewis, had provided.

The principal studied her, his strong-jawed face expressionless. “Blaine, what would you think of taking a few days off?”

She regarded him blankly. “A few days? I’ve just had five weeks off. I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t look fine. Besides, we have another problem here.”

Blaine gave him a long, unflinching look. “Complaints from parents.”

“I’m afraid so. I mentioned this to you before. You found Rosie
and
Kathy. You have to admit that’s quite a coincidence.”

She had never considered him a warm and understanding man, but now he looked downright hostile. “And, of course, there was all that business about your husband. People around here haven’t forgotten it.”

“No, I don’t suppose they have,” Blaine said dully.

“So I really think, for your good and that of the school…”

“I should get lost for a while.”

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but…”

“But that’s what you meant.” She looked past him out the window, where the last of a few bedraggled, yellow November leaves were giving up the fight and floating down from the fifty-year-old oak tree outside the principal’s office. “Mr. Hooper, I realize you have the school’s reputation to think of, but don’t you realize what letting me go will look like? What people will make of it?”

“I’m afraid your troubles aren’t my problem.”

“I see. Do I understand, then, that if I break my contract by resigning, I won’t be sued?”

He focused on a spot just above her head. “I think that’s a reasonable assumption. The school board will understand.”

“I’ll just bet they will.” Blaine set her coffee cup down on his desk. “I’ll finish out the day and—”

“Well, actually, I’ve already called in someone to handle your afternoon classes. I think it would be best if you left school now.”

Blaine stared at him. She felt tears pressing behind her eyes, but she would not break down, not in front of this cold-eyed man who’d practically fawned over her when she was married to Martin. She stood up.

“I hope there are no hard feelings, Blaine.”

“Oh, no,” she said coolly. “But don’t expect a check from me for your alumni society this year.”

The principal’s eyes flickered. The alumni society was his pet project, and one to which she and Martin had always given freely. “I really don’t think there’s any need to get petty about this, Blaine.”

“Just think of it as my being thrifty. Good-bye, Mr. Hooper.”

3

Logan looked over at Tim, who sat strapped into the car beside him. “Mind if we take a detour?”

“Detour,” Tim repeated carefully. “Does that mean we’re goin’ someplace besides home first?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no, I don’t care, if it doesn’t take too long. We rented that movie to watch tonight, and my bedtime’s nine o’clock.”

“I remember.”

“I could stay up later than nine to watch it, though.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Logan said as they went past their house and headed north on Prescott Road.

“Are we goin’ someplace on official business?”

“Official business? Where did you get that phrase?”

“You use it all the time when you don’t want me to know where you’re really goin’.”

“Oh. Well, yes and no. The lady we’re going to see has some problems, but we’re not visiting her on official business.”

I shouldn’t be doing this at all, Logan thought. I shouldn’t say anything to Blaine off the record, and I certainly shouldn’t be going to her house. But he was going, nevertheless. His need to see her after what he’d heard today was too strong to ignore.

Tim rooted around in the pocket of his wool jacket and withdrew a piece of Juicy Fruit chewing gum, holding it out to Logan in a silent offer to split the piece. Logan shook his head. “Is this lady your girlfriend?” Tim asked.

Logan looked at his son, astonished. “My girlfriend! Where on earth did you get an idea like that?”

“Mommy said you’d prob’ly have girlfriends while she was gone.”

Rage surged through Logan. As if deserting her family weren’t enough, Dory had to pour out her insecurities about “girlfriends” on her seven-year-old child. “This lady isn’t anyone’s girlfriend,” he said, forcing the anger from his voice. “Her husband died a few months ago, and she still feels really bad about that. But that’s not the point. I don’t have girlfriends, Tim. I’m married.”

Tim broke the gum into three pieces, then put them all in his mouth and began crunching. That stick of gum has probably been in his pocket since last winter, Logan thought. “On TV married guys have girlfriends,” Tim managed between chomps.

“You watch too much TV.”

“Oh, well, it’s only the bad guys that have girlfriends,” Tim said hastily, clearly alarmed that his television privileges might be revoked.

“Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

“No way! You’re the sheriff!”

“Okay. This lady’s name is Mrs. Avery. She’s a friend of mine, someone I’ve known since I was about your age.”

“Wow,” Tim said, as if his father were talking about a vast and distant space of time, like the Bronze Age.

Logan smiled in the darkness. “So this is just a friendly call, got it?”

“Got it!” Tim said, still chewing furiously on his stale gum.

4

Robin lay on the couch, munching popcorn and staring into the fire crackling behind the black wire screen. “Robin, do you want to talk about Tony?” Blaine said, laying down her book, unable to bear the silence any longer.

“No. You’re against him, just like everyone else.”

“I am
not
against him.”

“Suddenly you don’t want me to practice with him.”

“I think my decision is justified. The circumstances have changed.”

“I’m
not
practicing with him for the talent show, but not because of anything you said,” Robin announced, sitting up and brushing back her long hair. “He just doesn’t feel like it with all this police harassment.”

“Robin, he isn’t being harassed. He lied about his whereabouts the night Rosie was killed. Logan found out about it. You can’t sit there and honestly tell me you’re mad at Logan for calling him in for more questioning.”

Robin’s eyes dropped. “I guess not.”

“Have you talked to Tony since the questioning?”

“Just for a couple of minutes on the phone.”

“Did he say where he was that night?”

“Driving around, but he didn’t think anyone would have believed him.”

Well, I can understand that, Blaine thought. I was driving around, but I don’t think anyone believes me.

The doorbell rang. “Who can that be?” Blaine asked absently.

“I’ve got a great idea,” Robin said. “Why not go to the door and see?”

“I love it when you’re in these moods,” Blaine returned, but the girl was already concentrating on her popcorn again.

Through the glass in the peephole Blaine saw a collection of distorted features she barely made out as Logan’s. She opened the door to find him holding the hand of a little black-haired boy who grinned up at her, one of his front teeth missing, and piped, “Hi!”

“Well, how do you do?” Blaine smiled. She looked inquiringly at Logan, suddenly aware of her eyes, still slightly swollen from the tears that had come after she’d left school, and her hair carelessly pulled back with a rubber band.

“This is my son, Tim,” Logan said.

“I’m happy to meet you, Tim.” Blaine’s mind flew. If Logan was here, it probably meant bad news. But he wouldn’t bring his son with him if he had something awful to tell her, would he? “Want to come in out of the cold?” she asked.

Logan nodded. “Sure, if you’re not busy.”

“Not at all.” The two of them stepped into the entrance hall, both carefully wiping their feet on the mat, and Blaine said softly to Logan, “Is this official business?”

Tim giggled. Logan winked down at him, then smiled, the old, heartfelt smile she remembered so well from high school. “No. It’s just that I heard what happened to you at school today.”

“I’m surprised the story wasn’t in the evening paper,” she said bitterly.

“No—they had bigger news.
FUNDS ALLOCATED FOR NEW CHRISTMAS LIGHTS
was the banner headline.” Blaine couldn’t help laughing, although she’d seen the paper for herself. The banner headline had actually been
POLICE STILL STALK MURDERER
. “Anyway, I knew you’d had a horrible day, and I thought…well, I just wanted…”

Tim was looking at him inquisitively. “You just wanted to what, Daddy?”

“Say hello,” Logan answered quickly.

Tim looked baffled by this clumsy exchange between the adults. Blaine smiled at both of them. “May I take your coats?”

“Oh, we can’t stay. I just wanted to tell you that Mrs. Foss has calmed down. That situation is under control.”

“What situation?” Tim demanded. “I don’t understand anything anybody’s sayin’.”

“You don’t need to know everything,” Logan said.

Suddenly Ashley appeared in the entrance hall, and Tim let out a squeal of delight. He knelt and Ashley ran to him, as if she were his dog and ecstatic to see him. “Daddy,
look!
” Tim said in wonder. “He likes me!”

“It’s a she,” Blaine said. “Her name is Ashley. And she sure
does
like you.”

Tim’s little arms clamped firmly around the dog’s neck while Ashley licked his cheeks. “She’s the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen
lots
of dogs!”

“I know she appreciates the compliment.” Blaine shifted her gaze to Logan, who was looking at his son with such adoration that Blaine felt a momentary constriction in her throat. “Logan, are you sure the two of you can’t stay for a while? Robin and I are all alone, and Tim’s just getting to know Ashley.”

“Oh, Daddy,
please!
” Tim begged. He looked up at Blaine. “Do you have a VCR?”

“Yes.”

“We got a movie in the car. We were gonna watch it at home, but we could watch it here instead, couldn’t we, Daddy?”

Robin had come into the entrance hall, and although five minutes earlier her mood had been bordering on surly, her voice was warm and friendly as she spoke to Tim. “What movie do you have?”