Erica Spindler - In Silence

He tilted his face toward hers. "A sharp object was repeatedly inserted into her vaginal canal. Tore her insides to shreds. She bled to death."

Avery hugged herself, suddenly cold. "Who was she?"

"Dad knew her. Party girl. Heavy drinker. Spent a little time in jail."

Anyone whose actions fell outside what was considered right, moral or neighborly was singled out.

A woman like Elaine St. Claire fit that description. But she was also the kind who put herself in dangerous situations.

"They have any suspects?"

"Just me."

"Funny."

"I'm not laughing." He lay back again, draping an arm across his eyes. "Dad and Matt, in their infinite wisdom, are looking no further than the first to the scene."

"I find that difficult to believe."

He shrugged. "Could just be me, still chafing under Matt's interrogation. Wondered where I'd been that day between the hours of four in the afternoon and eight that night."

"And where were you?"

"Working on the novel. Nobody but Sarah for an alibi."

She didn't know what to say so she said nothing.

"Why so interested?" he asked.

Good question. How did she answer it? She decided on blunt-ness. "You have any doubt my dad killed himself?"

He sat up at that one. Looked at her. "Where did that come from?"

Ignoring the question, she tipped her face to the sky, then returned her gaze to his. "You'd become friends. Spent some time with him. Do you have any doubt he took his own life?"

For a long moment, he said nothing. When he spoke, his tone was heavy with regret. "No, Avery. I'm sorry."

A knot of tears clogged her throat. She pressed on. "Why?" He looked at her. "Talking about this isn't going to change anyth-"

"Why, Hunter? Tell me."

"All right." He sat up. "I hadn't been back in Cypress Springs a week when your dad looked me up. I appreciated it. A lot. He didn't ask too many questions, didn't make me explain why or justify my actions. He did it for me, but I think, for himself, too. He needed somebody to talk to.

"Anyway, it worked for both of us and we started meeting every Friday morning for coffee. Then, one Friday, he didn't show. So I went by the house, found him still in his pajamas. All the blinds drawn. He insisted he had simply overslept, but he was acting… strange. Different."

"Different? What do you mean?"

"Jumpy, I guess. He didn't look me in the eye. After that, our meetings became sporadic. Our conversations…less comfortable. He began talking a lot about the old days. When your mom was alive and you were home. Never about the future, rarely about the here and now."

Hunter let out a long breath. "It should have rung a warning bell, but it didn't. I'm sorry," he said again.

She shook her head, as much in denial of his words as of the tears burning her eyes. "He lost a bedroom slipper that night, on his way out to the garage. The arson investigator told me that."

He didn't comment and her cheeks heated. "I think that's significant, Hunter. Walking in one shoe isn't natural. The path between the house and garage would have been cold, the stepping stones rough. He would have stopped and slid it back on."

"Avery," he said gently, "I hate that he did this, too. I know it hurts. I know-"

"No, you don't know. You can't know what I feel." Tears choked her; she fought them. "On fire, he crawled toward the door. He didn't want to do it, Hunter. He didn't."

"Avery, hon-" He made a move to take her into his arms and she jumped to her feet. "No," she said, more to herself than him. "No, I will not cry. No more."

She hugged herself, staring at the shimmering surface of the pond. In the tree behind her a couple of squirrels played tag. Sarah growled, low in her throat.

"Who would want your dad dead, Avery?" Hunter asked quietly. "Everyone loved him."

She couldn't take her gaze from the diamond-faceted surface of the water. "Not everyone. I got a call, this woman…she said Dad had gotten what he deserved. That I would, too."

"Who, Avery? What woman?"

"Don't know." Cocking her head, she moved toward the water. The surface was broken by a large, odd shadow. "She wouldn't identify herself and I didn't recognize her voice."

"Has she called again?"

"No." Avery reached the pond's edge, stopped and frowned.

"Most probably a crank," he said. "Someone with an ax to grind. Or someone in desperate need of attention. Even Cypress Springs is home to mentally unstable people."

"What's that?" She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was staring with unabashed admiration at her butt. Her cheeks wanned even as she motioned him to come. "Look."

He stood and ambled over, Sarah at his heels. She pointed. "A shape just beneath the water. See? Its edges are silvery."

He bent closer, then looked at her. "I think it's a car."

"A car?" She turned back to the pond. Made a sound of surprise as the shape that had caught her eye suddenly became clear to her. "I think you're right."

"One way to find out." He stripped down to his jogging shorts, then waded in. She watched as he took a deep breath, then dived under.

A moment later, he surfaced. "It is. And a fine car at that. A Mercedes coupe." She frowned, something plucking at her memory.

"I'm going to take another look."

Hunter went under again. Sarah began to bark. This time when he reappeared he swam back, then climbed out. "I think we better call Dad."

Neither Avery nor Hunter had a cell phone. They decided the quickest route to a phone would be through the woods and across a pasture to Sam Tiller's place. The man caught sight of Hunter and broke into a broad smile, his weathered face creasing up like a Shar-Pei's hide.

He pushed open the screen door, smile faltering when he saw the condition they were in. "A bit early in the year to be swimming. Water'd be real cold." He shifted his gaze to her. "You're the doc's girl."

"Yes, sir. Good to see you."

"Damn shame about the doc. He was a good man." He turned to Hunter. "What's this all about?"

"We need to use a phone, Sam. To call Buddy." Hunter ex-Plained about jogging to the pond, Avery seeing the shadowy form °f something under the water, then realizing it was an automobile.

The man scratched his head. "A car, you say? A Mercedes?

Damned if I can figure how it got there. Come on in, phone's this way."

They followed him inside. Sam's wife had died back when they were in high school and as far as Avery knew, the couple hadn't had children. The old farmhouse's interior begged for a little TLC. Fabrics were frayed, curtains dingy and any feminine touches had long since gone the way of the dinosaurs.

It reminded her of how her dad's house had begun to look.

Hunter dialed. Avery could tell by Hunter's side of the conversation that his father was surprised to be hearing from his son.

"You want me to call or- Fine. We'll meet you there."

Hunter hung up the phone. He turned to her and Sam. "Dad's calling Matt. The farm's outside the city limits and falls under the sheriff department's jurisdiction."

"Seeing it's in my pond," Sam said, "I think I'd better get a look at this thing. I'll drive us."

They all three crowded onto the bench seat of his battered old pickup truck; Sarah rode in back. The sky had begun to turn dark, fat black clouds forming to the south.

Within minutes they reached the turn for the pond. Hunter hopped out and unhooked the chain barricade; Sam eased the truck through. Avery wasn't surprised to see they had beaten both Buddy and Matt there.

Sam stopped the pickup; they climbed out. The farmer crossed to the water, squinted down at the cloudy surface. After a moment, he looked at Hunter. "Damned if it isn't a car. I'll be."

Just then, Matt pulled up, followed by Buddy. The younger Stevens climbed out, waited for his father, then crossed to the trio.