James Grippando - Beyond Suspicion

“That seems wise,” said Jack.

“Psychiatric?” said Evelyn. “She’s not a-I mean, she’s a bright girl. She’s just been under so much stress.”

“Stress may be part of it. But let’s get a professional to take a look at the whole picture. Then we can make a judgment.”

“When can I see her?”

“That’s something our psychiatrist should determine. You can wait here, if you like. I’ll send someone down from psych just as soon as I can.” He offered a polite smile, shook their hands, and was on his way.

Jack returned to his seat. Evelyn started toward hers, then stopped and turned back. She took the seat across from Jack but said nothing. She just stared.

“I’m sorry for all this, Evelyn.”

“You should be.”

“No need to beat me up. I’ll be beating myself up over this for a long time. It’s so obvious to me now.”

“What’s so obvious?”

“Cindy and Jessie. There’s no good reason for Jessie’s body to have been found in my own house. Unless Cindy killed her.”

“Do you honestly believe that Cindy is capable of murder?”

“No. But the little things are starting to add up now. I remember one of the first nights we spent in your house. Cindy was all upset because she found out she wasn’t pregnant. We started talking about fertility, and she was so certain that the problem was with her, not me. Neither one of us had been tested. How would she have known it was her, unless Jessie had told her…” He stopped himself, suddenly uncomfortable about having this conversation with his mother-in-law.

“Told her that you had already fathered a child?”

“All I’m saying is, I just can’t believe it.”

“Then don’t believe it. Look, Jessie may have died in your house, but Cindy wasn’t even home when it happened. She was with me that whole day.”

“Nice try, Evelyn. But you’re not the first parent to concoct an alibi for her child.”

“You listen to me, smart guy. Cindy’s not well to begin with. That man Yuri knocked her out with some kind of drug and then put a gun to her head. How coherent would you be after all that? You can’t take anything she said this morning at face value.”

The elevator doors opened, and a woman stepped out. Jack caught her eye, and she walked toward him. Jack hadn’t seen her in a while, but it seemed that the older Cindy and her sister got, the more they looked alike.

“Hello, Celeste,” said Jack.

“Thanks for calling me. How’s Cindy?”

“She’s going to be fine.”

Evelyn turned and walked away, saying nothing to her older daughter. If there was ice between her and Jack, she and Celeste were glaciers apart. Jack had never fully understood it, just accepted it as part of a strange family dynamic.

He escorted Celeste to the vending machine, well away from Evelyn, then took a few minutes to explain everything over a cold soda. He glanced toward the in-take desk and saw Evelyn talking with another doctor, presumably the psychiatrist.

“Excuse me one second.” He quickly crossed the waiting room and introduced himself to the doctor. As Jack had figured, she was from psych.

“As I was telling your mother-in-law, I will probably want to keep Cindy in the hospital at least overnight, mostly for observation.”

“That’s fine.”

“If she does become violent or show some signs that she might injure herself, we may need to sedate or even restrain her. I’m not saying that’s going to happen, but to be on the safe side, I’d like your written authorization to do that.”

“You really think that’s necessary?”

“I’m her mother. I’ll sign.”

Jack deferred. The doctor handed a pen and clipboard to Evelyn. She looked over the form, then took the pen. Jack watched her sign.

He tried not to show it, but it was as if he’d been hit by lightning.

“There you go,” she said.

The doctor thanked her and tucked the executed form under her arm. “I should have an update for you later this evening. I’ll phone you.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

She turned and headed for the elevator. Jack checked his watch and said, “I have to go, too.”

“Fine. You’re not needed.”

“I’d like to stay, but the homicide detectives are already breathing down my neck.”

“What’s that all about?”

“Something to do with knives. Whoever killed Jessie also slashed up some pictures of me and Cindy from our wedding album. With everything that’s happened now, they want to check out our collection of knives, see if the slashes in the wedding photographs came from any we own.”

“They think Cindy slashed her own wedding photos?”

“If she killed Jessie out of jealousy, that would fit, wouldn’t it?”

Evelyn mulled it over, then shook her head. “Just go, please. Can’t you ever bring anyone good news?”

“I’ll be sure to work on that.” He walked away but took the long route back to the elevators, making a point of passing by Cindy’s sister.

“How about a cup of coffee?” he said.

“Sure.”

He led her to the elevator and punched the down button. The doors opened, and they got inside. “There’s something I have to talk to you about,” he said.

“What?”

“Dreams.”

She rocked on her heels. “What kind of dreams?”

“For a few months now, Cindy’s been having this same nightmare about your father coming to her. And when he leaves, he wants to take me with him. Do you have any idea what that might be all about?”

She didn’t answer.

From inside the elevator, he took one last look at his mother-in-law seated on the other side of the waiting room. Then the doors closed, and the car began its descent.

The color had drained from Celeste’s face.

“I thought you might,” said Jack.

“I guess maybe it’s time you learned our dirty little family secret.”

“I’m all ears,” he said as the elevator doors parted.

•

Jack waited in the dark with the window shades shut. He was in the TV room, though he hadn’t so much as switched on a light bulb, let alone the set. For almost two hours, he sat alone, familiarizing himself with every sound of the empty house. The air conditioner kicking on, then off. The hum of the refrigerator. The Westminster chime of the grandfather clock.

Celeste had given him plenty to think about. She told him how her accusations had torn the family apart. Cindy had so fervently believed that her lies had driven their father to suicide that she’d even told Celeste of her fantasies about poisoning her older sister or causing her other bodily harm. Their mother had also turned against Celeste, but there was one major difference. Cindy had eventually made peace with Celeste and came to believe that the accusations were true.

Their mother had never made peace, and she’d known the truth from the beginning.

The clock chimed. It was quarter past two. Jack started to rise, then stopped. He heard something. He listened, then settled back into his chair. It was the sound he’d been waiting for. At last, a key turned in the lock on Evelyn’s front door.

•

Evelyn hooked her umbrella on the hall tree and switched on the light. It had been raining off and on since lunchtime, and, as usual, the gods had really turned on the faucets the moment she’d decided to sprint from her car to the front door. Even a hurricane, however, would not have kept her from coming home.

She walked down the hall and headed straight for the kitchen. There was an urgency to her step. She’d played it cool for over an hour at the hospital, fighting the impulse to rush home, which would have only raised suspicions. She’d used the time wisely, considering the things Jack had told her, weighing her options. This was no time for knee-jerk reactions, but now her mission was clear. She had to get home and secure one last loose end.