Элизабет Чандлер - Don't Tell

I felt other hands take me from Nick. I reached back, but they carried me away from him and the water.

“Two hundred feet!” a woman shouted. “Get her away.

Go!”

I was finally laid down in the grass. I tried to sit up.

Everything slid past me, out of focus, the world running with water, smelling of river and fire. “Nora! Find Nora!”

Someone crouched next to me. An arm wrapped around my back, supporting me. “She’s safe,” Nick said. “She’s just a few feet away.”

I reached out, trying to touch Nora, wanting to make certain she was there.

Nick caught my fingers. “The police are taking care of her,” he assured me. “Paramedics are on the way.”

I leaned back against him and rested my cheek on his shoulder. I could feel the river water dripping off him.

“Thank you,” I whispered. When I looked up, I saw he was crying.

I asked to speak with the sheriff privately. I had left Nora sitting up, fully alert, and very frightened. It had taken the effort of both Nick and me to loosen her grip on my hand and wrap it around his. Aunt Jule was talking to the medics.

The boathouse smoldered — what remained of it — and volunteer firefighters continued to work. McManus, the man who had questioned me about the rock-throwing incident, told another officer to take charge and walked with me toward the house.

“So,” said the sheriff, sitting on the edge of the porch, pulling out a worn notebook, “I asked yesterday if there was anyone you weren’t getting along with these days. Want to try a different answer?”

“It’s a long one,” I warned him, then recounted everything that had happened, including events from seven years ago, ignoring the strange look I got when I told him about the knots. I mentioned the will without telling him why it worried me. If desire for my mother’s money was a reasonable motive, he would see it, I told myself. The truth was, now that I was safe, I didn’t want to believe it. It hurt too much.

“I don’t have any physical evidence against Frank,” I concluded. “It’s what I say against what he says.”

“And Holly?”

I hesitated. “Like I said before, she could have been scared and protecting herself the night my mother died. The spooky stuff that’s happened — I think that was all Nora. I think Holly hit Nora today, but she may have lost her temper without having any idea what it would lead to. I–I just don’t know.”

The light-haired sheriff pushed his hat back and forth, as if he were scratching his head with it. “Frank’s not here. We checked next door — that’s policy with fire. The house is locked up and his car gone. I’ve already talked to Nick and Jule.”

“What did Aunt Jule tell you?”

He ignored my question. “They’re fetching Holly now. And Nick’s parents — I like a kid’s parents to be around for these things. Why don’t we just sit back and see what Holly has to say, without bringing up what you’ve told me?”

“So she doesn’t shape her story around mine?” I replied.

“Is that why you aren’t telling me what Aunt Jule said?”

He smiled. “That wouldn’t be too smart of me, now, would it?”

“What if we pretend Nora died?” I asked. “If we tell Holly that I found Nora unconscious and that Nora died in the fire, she’ll think I know nothing at all about what happened earlier today or the night my mother died. There would be more chances of—” I stopped myself.

“Catching her in a lie?” he prompted.

Was that how little I trusted her now? “Or showing that she is honest,” I replied.

Twenty minutes later we gathered in the garden room.

While I was changing into dry clothes, McManus had told Aunt Jule and Nick about our plan and had instructed them not to contradict him. I felt guilty for setting up Holly and kept telling myself I was giving her the chance to demonstrate her innocence, but when I entered the garden room, I couldn’t meet Nick’s or Aunt Jule’s eyes.

Holly had just come from the boathouse, her face looking pale and damp. “Are you all right, Lauren?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered, stepping back quickly when she reached for me, not wanting her to touch me.

She turned to Aunt Jule. “Now maybe you’ll believe that Nora is out of control. I blame you for what has happened, Mother, all of it.”

Without saying a word, Aunt Jule retreated to the river room. Both sets of doors were open between that room and the garden room, and I watched her pace.

Holly walked over to Nick and took his hand. Seating herself close to one of the porch doors, she drew Nick into the chair next to hers. Though the doors were open, both sets of drapes that covered them had been closed halfway.

Nora was on the porch outside with a police officer, so she could listen.

I sat opposite Holly and Nick, and the sheriff squatted on the hassock between them and me. He stared at his notebook for several moments, then removed his hat.

“Holly, I have some difficult news to give you. Your sister didn’t make it.”

Holly blinked. “What?”

“Nora died. You know that she and Lauren were trapped in the boathouse.”

“Yes, a firefighter told me, but—”

“Lauren found Nora unconscious. She swam under the doors to get help, but the fire had started, and the place went up like a matchbox.”

“Oh, God,” Holly said. “Oh, God, why?” She turned to me.

“How did this happen?”

I told her about the phone call, finding Nora unconscious, then the door being padlocked by Frank. A warning look from McManus silenced me before I said more.

Holly’s eyes filled with tears. “Where’s Frank now?” she asked.

“We’re looking for him,” McManus replied. “He’s not home. Not at his office. It’s starting to look like he’s nowhere in town.”

Holly frowned. “Why would he do this?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” the sheriff told her.

“Do you have any theories?”

“No. No, how could I?” Holly said. “It’s horrible! I can’t even imagine it.”

I wanted to end this miserable charade. “Sheriff—” I began.

He cut me off. “I have some theories of my own and would be interested in any ideas or observations you have, Holly.

Sometimes little things you notice can go a long way toward giving the big picture.”

“Things like what?” Holly asked.

“A statement someone made that gave you reason to pause. An argument you overheard. Anything that can help us piece this together.”

Holly stared at the floor, biting her lip, then looked up slowly. “Mother?”

Aunt Jule stopped pacing and came to stand in the doorway.

“Mother, what have you told them?”

“What do you mean?” Aunt Jule asked.

“I want to know what you have said to the police.”

“The little I know,” she replied, stepping into the room. “I was home. I heard Rocky barking, but didn’t pay attention.

Then I heard the sirens.”

There was a long silence.

“Holly, do you believe there is someone else involved other than Frank?” McManus asked. “Have you seen or heard anything to make you think that?”

“No — maybe,” she said indecisively.

“I’d like to hear about that maybe.”

Holly wrung her hands. “This is… really unpleasant.” She looked down at her hands and made them still. “I think that Nora wasn’t the one somebody was after.”

McManus leaned forward.

“I think it was Lauren my mother wanted dead.”

Aunt Jule’s face went white. “What are you talking about?”

she exclaimed.

Holly kept her eyes on McManus. “Before Lauren’s mother drowned, she wrote a will with the help of Frank. She left everything to Lauren, but if Lauren died before she was eighteen, everything would go to my mother.”