All Fall Down (23 page)

“The call didn’t come immediately after I went into the house. As I said, I passed out for ten to fifteen minutes. Then at least another five went by before I found Bernice. Then I called the EMS, then the sheriff’s office. The call came about five minutes afterward. That’s almost half an hour later.”

Clarke spoke up for the first time as Robin reentered the room. “How could a killer know you’d answer and not the police?”

“I guess he couldn’t. He’d have to wait until he heard me say hello. Certainly if the police were there, one of them would answer the phone. If I answered, it meant I was there alone.”

“Got this all figured out, don’t you?” Clarke said.

“No, I don’t, Deputy,” Blaine said coldly. “But when I
do
get it all figured out, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, let’s get back to business,” Logan said sharply. “You never explained to my satisfaction why you went to see Bernice.”

“I told you—she called me. She was upset. She said she needed to see me.”

“She was upset about
what?
”

“I don’t know.”

Logan regarded her sternly. “Blaine, you did not go to that woman’s house because she said she was upset. She didn’t even like you—you wouldn’t go out when a murderer is on the loose just to comfort her. What did she say?”

“A lot of gibberish. I think she’d been drinking. Look, Logan, I know she didn’t like me, but she was good to Martin and—”

“And she knew something about the missing Dilaudid.” A fresh tremor of apprehension ran through Blaine. Why did she always think she could hide things from Logan? It never worked. He pinned her with his gaze. “She denied to me this afternoon that she knew anything about some Dilaudid that was missing, but she did. She’s not a good liar. Now that’s what she wanted to talk to you about, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, barely above a whisper. “She wanted to talk about Dilaudid.”

“What did she say about it?”

“Nothing, Logan. She’d been attacked when I got there, remember?”

“I meant over the phone.”

“She just said she wanted to talk to me about it.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s
all
.”

Logan studied her, disappointment showing in his eyes. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth. His look hurt more than she would have imagined, and she felt a terrible need to restore his faith in her, but she couldn’t do that without endangering someone else. Finally, Logan turned to Robin. “Clarke tells me you were out this evening.”

“Just to get some air, like I said.”

“Where were you getting this air?”

Robin seemed too frightened to catch his sarcasm. “Town. I drove downtown. I went to the park, but I didn’t get out of the car. I just sat and looked at the river for a little while. On the way back I had a flat tire. That’s why I was so late.”

“Did you change the tire yourself?”

“Yes.” She held out her arms, displaying dirty smudges on the sleeves of her blue sweater. “See? Dirt from the old tire. My sweater’s probably ruined.”

“Where is the old tire?”

“In the trunk, of course. Where else would I leave it? On the side of the road?”

“No one stopped to help you?”

“No. It was only a mile from here, and the road was nearly deserted.”

“Strange, we didn’t see you when we were driving to the Litchfield place.”

“I saw police cars and the ambulance go by, but everyone was going so fast. And I’d pulled off the main road. I was on that little side road leading out to the Dennis farm.”

“So you were alone and no one saw you,” Logan said slowly. “How interesting.”

5

As soon as the sheriff and the deputy left, Blaine pounced on Robin. “
Where
were you earlier?”

“I told you—”

“I
know
what you told me. Now give me the truth.”

“After you left, I got kind of scared here alone, so I decided to go for a drive—”

“Robin, stop it!”

Robin looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. “What do you mean?”

“On my trip to the bathroom a few minutes ago, I tried your door. It was still locked from the inside. Your CD player holds five discs. The last one was finishing just as we came in the front door, so you didn’t have to go to your room to turn off the music. Lucky for you—you would have had a hard time explaining that locked door.” Robin seemed to draw in on herself.

“I know exactly what you did,” Blaine continued. “You put a piece of tape on the alarm switch on your window to prevent it from activating if I turned on the main unit before you got back. Then you used the music as camouflage and slipped out of the house through your window. You knew I was in my bedroom and wouldn’t hear the garage door going up and down or your car leaving, and my car was in the driveway, so I didn’t even see that your car was missing. You planned to come back in just as quietly as you left and sneak in your open window. Am I right?”

Robin’s head dropped slightly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Where did you go?”

“To see Tony.

“To see
Tony!
”

“Yeah. I was upset about you sending me off to live with my grandparents. I needed to talk to him.”

“Robin, Tony is possibly a killer!”

“He wasn’t the father of Rosie’s baby, Blaine. Honest!”

“I know. Rick was.”

Blaine watched the girl’s face closely. She looked genuinely shocked, then satisfied. “That’s what Tony said. He thought Rick was the father, but I couldn’t believe it.”

“Why did Tony think Rick was the father?”

“Tony did odd jobs at the Peyton house. He said he’d noticed something between Rick and Rosie. Nothing definite, nothing he could tell the police, but
something
.” Robin frowned. “Do the police know that Rick was the father?”

“Yes. Rick admitted it. You
really
didn’t know? Rosie didn’t tell you she was involved with Rick all summer?”

“Don’t you think I’d have told the sheriff if I knew? I didn’t have a clue. But I’m glad.”

Blaine stared at her. “
Glad?
”

“Yeah. Now Tony’s off the hook.”

“Not quite. He
lied
about his alibi for the night of Rosie’s death.”

“But I know where he was,” Robin said anxiously.

“Where?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Robin!”

“Why are you so anxious to blame Tony for everything?”

“I’m
not
. But you’re being too vague. I don’t think you really know where Tony was at all. I think you’re only trying to protect him.”

“I’m not!”

“Then if you like him so much, help him. Tell me where he was. Then tell the police.”

Robin pulled a strand of her long hair around her throat, a nervous gesture Martin had said she’d had since childhood. “He’ll never trust me with another secret.”

“Oh, Robin, stop talking like a ten-year-old. Honestly, you and Tony don’t seem to understand that we’re talking about
murder
here, and Tony is eighteen—he’s not a minor. Do you want to see him spend the rest of his life in prison?”

Robin looked frightened. She bit her lip. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you,” she said reluctantly. “You see, his sister Sandra found a bunch of stuff in her son’s room, little stuff that she knew he’d stolen. Her husband was out of town, and she freaked out. Didn’t know what to do—whether to go to the police or try to protect the kid. So she called Tony out at Ron Gibson’s. He went there and gave the kid a big lecture about what it’s like to get busted for something. He told Sandra not to go to the police, but Sandra was really worried about someone finding out that the family was in possession of stolen goods, so she swore Tony to secrecy.”

“And she let him lie to the police to keep her secret? That doesn’t sound like the Sandra I know.”

Robin gave Blaine a defiant look. “Then maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”

Blaine took a deep breath. “Rob, do you have
any
proof that what Tony told you is true?”

“I have his word for it.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

“Yes. I don’t know why it’s not enough for you.”

“Because I’m not a seventeen-year-old with a crush.”

“I’m not a child,” Robin said through clenched teeth. “Anyway, I don’t see what you’re getting so upset about. Tony was with me this evening, so he can’t be the killer.”

“Will he go to the police and say he was with you?”

“Why should he?”

“Robin, do you know how ridiculous you sounded when you said you’d gone out for some air? Where did you get that line—a forties movie? Logan didn’t believe it for a minute.”

“I don’t believe
you
. You’re just trying to scare me. The sheriff seemed satisfied with my explanation.”

“He left you alone tonight because he’s focusing on me, but eventually he’s going to ask where you
really
were.”

Robin was looking less sure of herself. “Well, I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I had a flat tire. That’s true. And I did change it just where I said I did, by myself. Besides, what does it matter where I was?”

“Because that call from Bernice to me must have been made under duress. Someone was trying to lure me to that house.”

Robin stared at her. “And you think it was me? Why would I do that?”

“You heard Logan—Bernice wanted to talk to me about the missing Dilaudid, the drug that was given to Rosie and Kathy and probably Bernice.”

“Yeah. So?”

Blaine paced over to the French doors, staring out at the night. “Robin, were you with Rosie the whole afternoon of the day your father…died?”

“What? You
know
I was with Rosie!”

“Do I? You just lied to me
and
to the police about where you were tonight.”

“But I knew you’d go nuts if I said I sneaked out to see Tony, and you want to send me away anyway, and—” Blaine turned and Robin broke off, her face paling. “You think I killed
Daddy?
”

“I don’t think you killed him, Rob. But you knew how desperately unhappy he was. And suddenly he had a key that you saw me hide, and he was in possession of a gun he couldn’t have reached without turning the gun case over on himself…”

Robin’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You knew
I
knew where the key was? You think I got the gun for Daddy so he could
kill
himself and make it look like suicide?”

“I would understand it, Robin. You loved him so much. He thought his life was over. He’d convinced you it was over, too. Maybe you thought you were doing the compassionate thing, like euthanasia. Maybe—”

“Maybe then you heard about the missing drug and figured Rosie had second thoughts about backing up my alibi the afternoon of Daddy’s death, so I killed her with medicine I stole when Daddy was sick,” Robin said in a hushed voice. “And then I killed Kathy because she saw something, and then I killed Bernice because she
knew
something…”

Blaine closed her eyes. “Robin, I went to see Bernice because she was hinting that she knew things about you being here the afternoon of your father’s death and about the significance of the missing Dilaudid. I’ve
never
thought you capable of murder—”

“But you weren’t sure, were you? At least that’s what you’re going to tell the police.” Robin’s voice rose. “You’re going to say you thought
I
stole the Dilaudid and
murdered
those people!”

“Did I say anything like that tonight?”

“No, but you will if they back you to the wall! You didn’t volunteer your little story tonight, so you’ll look like you were protecting me. But pretty soon you’ll tell it. And Logan Quint’s in love with you. Anybody can see that. He’ll try to protect you. He’ll try to believe whatever you say! God, he didn’t even arrest you tonight!” Robin raged on. “Anybody else would have arrested you! You’re going to go free and I—” She stood up, her fists clenched, her eyes blazing, and ran outside. Blaine heard her car engine roar to life and she screeched out of the driveway, leaving Blaine standing helplessly in the living room.

1

Sunday was a dreary, overcast day. The weatherman had predicted snow by evening, and Blaine could see the threat in the high, feathery cirrus clouds of early morning giving way to a thick, gray-blue cloud sheet that usually indicated rain or snow on the way.

She had awakened at six, and by ten o’clock she was so restless she put on her jacket and took Ashley out for a walk. They headed for the woods, and Blaine felt odd carrying the .22 automatic she’d taken from Martin’s gun case. She remembered Martin teaching her how to use it. “Don’t jerk, Blaine. Just
squeeze
the trigger. And stop closing your left eye. Keep both eyes open.” She had tried, only to please him, not because she thought she would ever be carrying a gun. The idea seemed ridiculous at the time, But here she was, the gun tucked in the right pocket of her jacket, as she took what would once have been an ordinary walk in the woods.

She didn’t know what drew her to the woods—maybe fear of them that she wanted to overcome. And Ashley was determined. She’d grown up running through the woods, sniffing out ground hogs and splashing through the creek. They went toward the trees automatically, just as they had done almost daily for nearly three years.

Blaine carried along a sack of food for the bird feeders Kirk had made. Perhaps if she set a task for herself, she thought, she wouldn’t be overwhelmed with memories of finding Rosie’s body. She took the elegant little red-and-gold pagodas off the low limbs and dumped in sunflower seeds, along with crumbled dog biscuits and some suet she knew wouldn’t freeze. At least the few hardy, or maybe foolhardy, sparrows that had not flown south would have something to sustain them if the weatherman wasn’t wrong in predicting a freakishly heavy, late November snow. But the day felt as if the prediction were accurate. She felt snow in the air, and suddenly she remembered her father telling her about twelve inches on Thanksgiving Day back in the fifties. He had made the whole event seem a magical time of snowmen and sleigh riding, instead of the dangerous weather disaster everyone else described. He would have been excited today, Blaine thought as she filled the last bird feeder, anticipating another huge snow like the one of his youth.

She was calling for Ashley, ready to head back to the house, when she spotted Logan on the path. She couldn’t help the tremor of foreboding that ran through her when she saw him. “What in the world are you doing out here?” she cried as he drew near. “Has something happened to Robin?”

“No. But where is she? No one came to the door.”

“Robin is at Cait’s. We had an argument last night. She took off in a huff and I was a nervous wreck until Cait called an hour later to say Robin was there.”

A brisk breeze lifted the dark hair falling across Logan’s forehead. He wore jeans and a wool jacket over a sweatshirt, not his uniform, and he seemed troubled. “What did you and Robin argue about?”

“Oh, normal stepmother-stepdaughter stuff.”

Logan looked at her sadly. “I wish you’d stop lying to me, Blaine.”

She glanced away quickly. Should she tell him her suspicions about Robin? What if she was wrong. Could she risk ruining a young girl’s life to protect herself? No. But what if she was right about Robin? Then the girl needed professional help, but she did not need the police thrust on her.

“Blaine?”

“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. Ashley sat at her feet, looking at her expectantly, but she hadn’t brought any sticks with her to throw for the dog. She stooped and patted Ashley’s golden head. “How’s Bernice?”

“Alive, but only by a fluke. It seems she was taking something for those migraine headaches she gets—I think the drug is called Cafergot. Anyway, it works by constricting blood vessels. Her doctor says she must have taken a dose before she was attacked, and therefore her blood flow was slowed. That, along with the tourniquets you applied, saved her. She’s still unconscious, though.”

“Good Lord,” Blaine breathed. “But what about Dilaudid? Was she given Dilaudid?”

“Yes, but not a massive overdose, considering her weight. We found some on the floor along with the syringe. She must have put up a struggle, and the attacker ended up squirting a lot of the stuff out of the syringe. Finally our murderer screwed up.”

“Our murderer,” Blaine whispered, almost as if saying the words aloud would conjure up the person. “I don’t suppose you found any signs of that person having shot at me out at Bernice’s.”

“No. So far we haven’t turned up any slugs or cartridges.”

“Oh. So I suppose you’ve come to arrest me.”

“No. As much as the prosecutor wants you to stand trial, he can’t sanction an arrest until there’s some hard evidence, and there is none. We found the murder weapon—a dull kitchen knife. But there were no prints on it. None on the syringe, either, and you weren’t wearing gloves.” He looked down. “My men are still searching the woods and the house for gloves you might have worn and hidden before we got there.”

Blaine swallowed. “No luck, I guess.”

“Not so far.”

“What about my car?”

“We had it towed in, but it’s still being searched for evidence. Maybe you can get it back tomorrow. But you can have your purse now. That’s what I came out to bring you. We found it last night.”

He took her brown suede purse out of a bag he’d been carrying and handed it to Blaine. It had been her favorite, but now it was stained from lying on the damp ground for hours. “Look through it and see if anything is missing.”

She crossed the path and sat down on an old oak log, sorting quickly through the purse. “Nothing. Keys. Billfold. All my money seems to be here. My driver’s license and credit cards. Makeup.”

“Not to mention the bag of M and M’s.”

Blaine smiled. “Crushed, but here.”

“I remember that in high school you were always forgetting your keys, but you never forgot your M and M’s.”

“I still have my chocolate addiction.”

Logan sat down beside her. “Has Bennett tried to get in touch with you?”

“No. Too ashamed, probably. He should be.”

Logan picked up a twig and snapped it in half. “I guess you really loved the guy.”

Blaine looked at him in shock. “No, I didn’t love him, Logan. He was just a friend. It’s true that he wanted things to be more serious—not an affair, but marriage. Now I know why. My money.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only reason.”

“But it was the main one.”

“Everyone I’ve talked to thought he was a great guy.”

“Yes, he seemed to be.” Blaine glanced at the decaying leaves carpeting the ground. “Obviously he wasn’t, but I still can’t quite believe he’s a murderer.”

“Well, this might help convince you. When his ex-wife heard he’d been brought in for questioning and might be arrested, she came flying in with a confession of her own. Back when they were married, Bennett was committing health-insurance fraud.”

“What?”

Logan threw the twigs down and nodded. “She claims she kept quiet about it because he was her husband and she loved him, et cetera, et cetera. I think she was going right along with him until divorce time. Then she held the information over his head.”

“She blackmailed him into giving her that huge settlement?”

“I’m guessing, but I think it’s a good guess. I believe she thought that if he was arrested, he might tell us what really happened between them, so she decided to get to us first with her version.”

“I always wondered why Rick gave her so much. I told myself it was because he just wanted her out of his life with no continuing battles over money.”

“I don’t think that kind of generosity comes naturally to Bennett.”

“I don’t think so, either. But considering what he had to lose, I’m surprised he did divorce her. Martin was still alive then. He couldn’t have been planning on marrying me.”

“Except that we’re not sure Martin killed himself.”

Blaine looked at him steadily. “Yes, he did, Logan.”

“How do you
know
that? You weren’t even here that afternoon.”

“I thought you weren’t sure about that, either.”

“Your explanation that you suddenly decided to go shopping didn’t ring quite true, Blaine. Even you have too know that.”

“I
was
at the mall, Logan. I just didn’t buy anything.” She glanced up at the formation of Canadian geese flying overhead, squawking noisily. Ashley barked at them, then turned her attention back to the humans, who looked so serious. She moved closer to Blaine and laid her head on Blaine’s knee, always a gesture of sympathy. “You’re not arresting Rick, are you?”

“I don’t have enough hard evidence.”

“Oh. But the evidence keeps building up against me, doesn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. And you don’t seem to care.” Blaine flashed him a look of hurt and fright. “No, that’s not right. You care, all right, but you’re not doing anything to help yourself.”

She lifted her hands. “I don’t know what you expect me to do except say that I’m innocent.”

“Can’t you give me
something
, Blaine? Something that would help clear you?”

“For God’s sake, Logan, I called you after every murder.”

“You weren’t alone when Rosalind’s body was discovered. You
had
to call after Cait and Robin had seen it. And in the case of Kathy, you were the last person to leave the gym because you had to lock up. You were in there
alone
with Kathy, which everyone knew. Arletta Stroud could testify to it.”

“And I’m sure she’d love the opportunity. But what about last night? No one could testify that I was with Bernice.”

“Blaine, your car wouldn’t start. You
couldn’t
get away. Even if you’d run, you would have had to leave the car behind.”

Blaine put her head in her hands. “You’re right. Everything points straight at me.”

“Not everything,” Logan said thoughtfully. “Tell me, did Robin know where the key to her father’s gun case was?”

Blaine raised her head, her eyes opening wider. “W-what?”

“You said you hid the key to the gun case when Martin got so depressed. Did Robin know where it was?”

Blaine caught her lower lip between her teeth, then let out a long sigh. “No.”

“You’re lying to me again.
Why?
If she killed her father—”

“She
didn’t
kill her father, Logan. She didn’t kill anyone. I just don’t think she’s capable of such a thing.”

“You’d be surprised who’s capable of murder,” Logan said grimly.

“So you’re hinting that she might be responsible for all the murders? Well, ask Tony Jarvis. That’s who she was with last night when Bernice was murdered and she claimed to be out getting air.”

Logan looked deeply into her eyes. “Tony Jarvis swears he was at home alone with his mother.”

Blaine felt thunderstruck. Either Robin had lied to her or Tony had lied to the police, thinking that the only threat hanging over Robin was that of Blaine’s anger at her for sneaking out. “Why did you ask Tony about Robin?” she finally managed, her voice thick with fear.

“He’s a suspect in these murders, Blaine. Naturally I questioned him about his whereabouts last night. He said nothing about Robin. You’re the one who just told me Robin was with him.”

“Oh.” Blaine felt as if she were struggling to get her breath. “Well, what about Rick?”

“Dr. Bennett could not be located this morning.”

Blaine gaped. “He
couldn’t?
”

“It’s only eleven o’clock. Maybe he’s in church.”

In spite of her fear, Blaine couldn’t help smiling in response to the quirk in Logan’s expression. “Oh, sure he is.”

“We couldn’t find John Sanders, either.”

“Well, that’s no mystery. He must be in Columbus with Samantha.”

“Except that Samantha is really Samuel.” Blaine looked at him blankly. “
Samantha
was his alibi for the Rosalind Van Zandt murder. But further investigation showed the alibi didn’t check out. When we questioned him a second time, Sanders said he’d lied—there is no Samantha Burton. The woman we talked to was his sister, Gail, covering up for him. He said he’s gay, and the person he sees in Columbus is a man named Samuel Burleigh, a doctor. An
anesthesiologist
.”

Blaine felt her face growing slack with surprise. “An anesthesiologist? Which means he has access to drugs…”

“Yes. Except that Dr. Samuel Burleigh is on vacation in Europe. We haven’t been able to track him down, and when we do, we might find out he’s not really Sanders’s lover at all. He might just be an acquaintance Sanders is using as a smoke screen.”

“Maybe,” Blaine said slowly, suddenly remembering that during her years of marriage to Martin they’d invited John and “Samantha” to several weekend parties. But they’d never come. As far as she knew, no one in Sinclair had ever met the mysterious Samantha. “But I don’t think so.”

“You believe Sanders is telling the truth?”

“I don’t know. But if he
is
gay, a lot of his behavior is explained.”

“His behavior?”

“Just that he was so circumspect about his girlfriend. He never brought her here, which was odd, since they’ve supposedly been involved for years. And he’s such a loner. I guess he thought he had to be. In this provincial little town, people wouldn’t understand him. And I’m sure he’d lose his job if it became known he’s homosexual.”

“That’s what he said.”

Blaine frowned. “Oh, poor John, having to keep a secret life. He must have felt so alone here. He never even told me, although he knew I’d understand.”

“Blaine, it may not be true. Maybe
that’s
why he never told you. You two
were
pretty close. He must have known you’d be sympathetic.”

Yes, John would have known that, she thought. So why had he kept silent? Fear that she would tell someone else who
wouldn’t
understand or keep things confidential? Or because he would have been lying?

Blaine closed her eyes. Questions, doubts, ambivalence. What was the truth? How could they ever sort out the truth about these murders when everyone seemed to be lying? Rick, John, Robin. Even she herself. When she opened her eyes, Logan was watching her closely, his face full of compassion. “You think I’m innocent, don’t you?” she asked suddenly.