All Fall Down (20 page)

“Oh, yes, sir. The Peytons always pay real good—and, well, frankly, I could use the money. Money’s always tight, you know how it is. My husband was a good man, but he didn’t believe in life insurance. Always said, ‘Bern, why bet against yourself?’ ‘Fine for you,’ I said right back. ‘I’m the one that’ll be left with the bills.’ And sure enough, I ended up high and dry when he passed on.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I managed. Besides, I like it here.”

“Did you like the Averys?”

Bernice’s face stiffened. “Mr. Avery was real withdrawn. I think if he’d had a wife closer to his own age, someone he wasn’t worried about losing—well, anyway, it was all right.”

“Do you think Martin Avery was worried about losing his wife?”

“Well, of course! She was young, pretty. Made a big deal over him, acted like she was real concerned about him, but I don’t think it would have been long before she’d have been looking around for a young guy. She acted awful friendly to Dr. Bennett, not that he encouraged her for a minute, don’t get me wrong about that. Dr. Bennett’s as fine as they come.” Another Rick Bennett admirer, Logan thought dryly, wondering what Bernice would think about his affair with Rosalind. “Then there was that Sanders man. A teacher at the high school,” Bernice went on. “He came to the house some, although he never paid much attention to poor Mr. Avery. There was also Blaine’s brother-in-law, Kirk Philips. He was around a
lot
. All young, good-looking,
healthy
men. Poor Mr. Avery couldn’t have helped being worried.”

“Did he ever say so to you?”

“Well, no. He wouldn’t. He was proud.”

So what you actually
saw
was Blaine being solicitous of her husband and three younger men coming around, Logan thought. You
deduced
that Martin Avery was worried about losing his wife. “Mrs. Litchfield, when you were with the Averys, did you ever notice that any of Martin’s medicine got lost?”

“Got lost?” Bernice echoed dubiously. “What do you mean, got lost?”

“Did you ever come up short?” Bernice stared. “Were you ever missing a vial of Dilaudid?”

“Do you mean, did someone take some of the Dilaudid away?” Logan nodded. Bernice’s eyes grew guarded. “I know what you’re getting at. You think I lost track of the medicine.” Her voice rose. “What kind of nurse do you think I am?”

“A very good one, I’m sure, but I have to ask this. Please don’t be offended.”

Bernice’s low brow was lowering even further, and Logan suddenly thought of a bull getting ready to charge. “Who says I’m careless with medicine?”

“
No one
has said you’re careless with medicine, Mrs. Litchfield. I simply want a straight answer to my question. Did any Dilaudid turn up missing while you were taking care of Martin Avery? Yes or no.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, wishing he felt relieved.

As he left the house and walked back to his car, all he could think about was the anxiety in Bernice’s eyes.

3

Ashley strained against her leash, nearly pulling Blaine off-balance as she paid the bill at the veterinarian’s office. Stuffing change and a receipt into her purse, she pushed the glass door open and the two of them burst out into the mauve light of the fading day. “
Okay
, Ash,” she said as the dog plowed toward the car. “We’ll go straight home. Robin will be back from Susie’s by now, and you two can play ball.”

Ashley was clambering into the front seat of Martin’s Bronco when a car pulled into the parking lot, its horn honking. Blaine looked at it in surprise until the driver whipped it into a parking space next to the Bronco and climbed out.

“Logan!” Blaine exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Before Logan could answer, Tim jumped out from the other side of the car. “Hi! We were drivin’ by and I saw you.” He rushed over to Ashley, who had abandoned the car and stood looking at the little boy, her tail wagging furiously. “Ashley’s not sick, is she?”

“No, Tim. She’s just here for her yearly shots.”

“Late Saturday afternoon?” Logan asked.

“This is the only vet in town who has Saturday afternoon office hours. It’s because he takes off on Thursdays.”

“Did the shots hurt, Ashley?” Tim asked.

The dog licked his face and he laughed.

“She didn’t even flinch,” Blaine said.

“I’m so glad!” Tim rubbed the dog’s ears. “When I saw you here, I made Daddy pull right off the road, didn’t I, Daddy?”

Logan smiled. “Yes, you did.” He looked at Blaine, his eyes growing serious. “Actually, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a few hours.”

“I had several errands. I’ve been out most of the day. Why were you trying to get in touch with me?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Blaine felt color draining from her face. “Oh, no. What now?”

Logan turned to Tim. “Why don’t you walk Ashley over to those pretty trees? You don’t mind, do you, Blaine?”

“No,” she said, her voice thick with worry. “Just hang onto the leash, Tim. We’re out of town, and people travel pretty fast on this road.”

“I got it.” Tim looped the leash around his wrist. “But it won’t do any good to send us away. Dogs have super ears. Ashley can hear everything you’re sayin’.”

Logan smiled. “But she can’t tell you.”

Tim led the dog over to two trees standing on the grassy plot beside the vet’s office where they began an earnest search for sticks.

“All right, Logan,” Blaine said, “please don’t keep me in suspense any longer. What’s wrong?”

“Today Rick Bennett confessed to being the father of Rosalind’s baby.” Blaine blinked at him, too surprised to speak. “They’d been having an affair for months.
He
took your key and had copies made, and they met at your house while you were in the hospital and later at Cait’s.”

“Rick and
Rosie?
” Blaine finally managed to say.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Logan, there must be a mistake.”

“Didn’t you hear me? He
admitted
it.”

A woman with a black poodle emerged from the vet’s office and stared at them with unabashed curiosity as she stopped to let the dog urinate on the side of the building. Blaine forced herself to close her mouth, which she suddenly realized was gaping open. Logan smiled at the woman. She smiled back and finally pulled the dog along on its leash. Only after she’d gotten into her red Buick Regal did Blaine speak again. “Logan, I can’t believe it!”

“You had no idea?”

“No idea? Of course not! I just can’t take it in. Rick and a seventeen-year-old girl! And they were meeting in
my
house?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But he didn’t say anything…not even when Rosie was found dead.” She stopped, drawing in a deep breath. “Logan, you don’t think that
Rick…
”

“Killed her?” She nodded. “He gave us an alibi. Stroud spent the afternoon working on it. It checks out, although there are a few holes. You see, he claims he was in Harry’s that night. A lot of people saw him. But because a lot of people
were
there, it could have been possible for him to slip out.”

“Possible? How about probable?”

“He would have had to work fast in order for his absence not to be noticed.”

“Well, I guess that’s one good thing,” Blaine said, still feeling dazed. “There’s little likelihood that he murdered Rosie.”

Logan frowned. “I’m not so sure it
is
a good thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the alibi gets him off the hook. But he told me something else today that could mean trouble for you.”

Blaine felt her breath coming faster. “Trouble for me?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t trying to incriminate you, Blaine. He was simply answering my questions.”

“Questions about what?”

“He told me that Martin was taking Dilaudid for his shoulder injury.”

Blaine looked at him blankly. “Was he? I didn’t know what drugs he was on. But what does that have to do with me?”

“We’ve ascertained that both Rosalind and Kathy were drugged with Dilaudid.”

“They were?”

Logan nodded.

“I still don’t see—” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God. And
I
had access to Dilaudid,” Blaine said slowly as the day grew darker and the net seemed to draw tighter around her.

1

Blaine drove through town, looking with unaccustomed interest at the bank with its smooth granite facade and glittering glass doors, the graceful Colonial library surrounded by a black wrought-iron fence dating from the nineteenth century, the big sandstone post office, the scattering of stores, the movie theater which had once been completely filled with water when the Ohio River flooded in the thirties. In fact, she’d seen pictures of the town during the flood, when people had paddled up and down the streets in boats and the marquee had read “Gone with the Flood.”

I feel like I’m seeing it all for the last time, she thought in a combination of panic and sadness. And maybe I am. Maybe within a few months I’ll be in prison for murders I didn’t commit. What malevolent force was out there, she wondered, cooperating with a killer to make her look guilty?

When she finally got home, she left her car in the driveway and was surprised to hear music coming from inside the house. Robin had told Blaine she was spending the day at Susie’s and wouldn’t be home until six. It was only five-thirty, although darkness had already closed in. Blaine immediately felt apprehensive. She didn’t like the idea of Robin alone in the house, with all that was going on. In fact, since Rosie Van Zandt’s body was found, Sinclair had become like a ghost town after the sun went down. Apparently everyone felt safer behind locked doors at night.

Blaine felt even more apprehensive when she found that the alarm system hadn’t been activated. But inside, Robin was peacefully playing the piano. She was safe, and Blaine decided not to lecture her on her carelessness.

She went immediately to the kitchen, fixed Ashley a bowl of water and herself a scotch and soda, and walked back to the living room to listen to Robin. The girl was rapt, her blunt fingers—the fingers of a true pianist—skimming over the keys with complete confidence. For a while Blaine thought Robin wasn’t even aware of her presence, but when she finished, she turned around. “Know what that was?”

“Bach. ‘Andante.’ ”

Robin smiled. “Right. And I didn’t think you knew music.”

“I don’t, but I’ve been listening to you for three years.”

“Listening closer than I thought.”

“I always wanted to play.”

Robin swept back her long, shining hair and looked at Blaine with interest. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you ever take lessons?”

“Rob, we hardly had enough money to pay the utility bills.”

Robin’s eyes dropped. “I forgot. You were on welfare when you were a kid, right?”

“No. That’s what everyone thinks, but we weren’t. Dad did yard work and all kinds of odd jobs. He refused to go on welfare.”

“How could you live on such a little bit of money?”

“It wasn’t easy. Mom worked at the bakery for a while, then she got sick of it. Believe me, she had no talent for cooking, and about all she got to do was clean the kitchen. When she quit, we had hardly anything. That’s when she left. I was twelve.”

“That must have been awful.”

“I’m ashamed to say it wasn’t.” Blaine took a sip of her drink. “Mom and I fought constantly. I realize now it was partly because she was taking out her frustration about our poverty and Dad’s drinking on me. Still, she didn’t do much to help the situation.”

“Because she didn’t have a job anymore?”

“Because she never stopped nagging Dad about being a drunken failure, which made him drink even more.”

Robin twined her fingers together and looked toward the fireplace. “My parents never argued.” Blaine said nothing, although she knew the girl was merely parroting what she’d been told. “Daddy was so good to Mom. Daddy was great—at least until his accident. Then he was just so miserable.”

“I know that, Robin.” For the first time since she’d met Robin, she felt they were sharing a moment of closeness. The sensation was odd, but extremely comforting. What a time for this to happen, Blaine thought ruefully. Finally, when my world is falling apart, Robin opens up to me just a little.

The phone on the end table beside Blaine rang and she stared at it. “Aren’t you going to answer?” Robin asked.

“Yes. It’s just that after those weird phone calls…well, never mind. I can’t cringe every time the phone rings.” Hesitantly she picked it up as it shrilled a fourth time.

“Blaine,
what
is going
on?
” Cait blurted.

“What do you mean?” Blaine asked, trying to sound casual. Hopefully, Cait hadn’t heard about Rick. She wasn’t in the mood to explain his paternity of Rosie’s baby to either Cait or Robin.

“I
mean
that I heard about Rick. Rick and Rosie. Is it true?”

“I guess so, but I’d rather not talk about it now, okay?”

Cait was silent for a moment. “Is Robin there?”

“Yes.”

“And she doesn’t know.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay, I understand. But what’s this I hear about a missing drug?”

“How on earth did you hear about that?”

“About three people have called me about it.”

“Three!”

“Yes.”

“How did they know?”

“I don’t know, Blaine. I didn’t interrogate them.”

“But you’re going to interrogate me.”

“
You
are my sister.”

“All right. Apparently Rosie and Kathy were drugged with Dilaudid, a drug Martin was taking, and since I found both girls…”

She was aware of Robin’s eyes growing larger and Cait sputtering. She took another sip of her drink and interrupted her sister. “Cait, I hate to ask, but could Robin come and stay with you for a few days?”

Robin’s eyes opened even wider, and Cait paused before saying, “Sure. But why? I mean, you’re both welcome. I’d feel so much better if you were both here—why just Robin?”

“I have my reasons, Cait.” For once Cait was silent. “So how about Robin coming over tomorrow, before noon?”

“That’s fine, but—”

“Thanks a million, Caity. I really have to go now. Talk to you later.”

When she hung up, Robin rose from the piano bench, looking at her furiously. “Why do I have to go stay with Cait?”

“Because too much is happening. I don’t think you’re safe out here, and besides, Cait lives two blocks from the high school. You won’t have that four-mile drive morning and afternoon.”

“I don’t mind the four-mile drive. And did it ever occur to you to ask
me
if I
wanted
to move in with Cait and Kirk again?”

“No, because I knew what you’d say. But you’re going.”

Robin glared at her. “I
knew
you’d find a way to get rid of me after Daddy died! By next week I’ll probably be in Florida with my grandparents.”

“I’m not sure Florida is such a bad idea…”

Robin just stared at her. “
What?
”

“This has been such a terrible time for both of us. Maybe it would do you good to get away from everything for a few weeks—”

“You just want time alone with Rick, don’t you?” Oh, Lord, Blaine thought. How wrong you are. “Or is it John Sanders? Who are you trying to get me out of the way for?”

“Robin, that is enough. I am not trying to ‘get you out of the way,’ as you put it. I’m trying to look after you.”

“I don’t need looking after!” Robin shouted. “I’m a grown woman!”

Blaine tried to act calm, although her stomach was tightening. She hated to argue with Robin. “No, you are not a grown woman. You are a teenaged girl who was friends with two other teenaged girls who were murdered.”

“Oh, are you saying you think I’m next on the list?”

“Rob, please. I don’t want to fight with you. I just want you to go to Cait’s for a few days.”

“And then on to Florida so you’ll have the house and half of Daddy’s money, and someone to fool around with!”

“Robin! Don’t you
ever
say something like that again!”

“Why not? It’s true. You’ve got it all now, don’t you? All you need to do is get rid of me. Well, you’re not going to find that as easy as you think!”

Robin stomped off to her bedroom, slamming the door so hard the whole house seemed to shake. Within a minute the stereo was pounding. This time it was too loud even for Blaine, who liked rock music. She walked down to Robin’s door and knocked. When the girl didn’t answer, she yelled, “Turn that down a decibel!” Nothing. Sighing, she went to her own bedroom, sat on the bed, and finished her drink. Then she lay down. Ashley jumped up beside her, and she rolled over, burying her face in the dog’s golden hair. “At least you don’t yell at me or ask a million questions,” she murmured. “No wonder they say a dog is man’s best friend.”

She was surprised when the phone beside her bed awakened her. How had she actually managed to doze off, considering how upset she was, not to mention all the noise still thundering from Robin’s room? Probably because she hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since Rosie was found. She glanced at the clock and saw she’d only slept about thirty minutes. She felt as groggy and heavy as if it had been three hours. The phone rang again, and groaning, she reached to pick it up. Cait, no doubt, wanting to drag more information from her.

Instead a fairly familiar voice said, “Blaine? Are you alone?”

Blaine frowned and sat up on the bed, flipping on the bedside light. “Bernice?”

“That’s right. I need to talk to you. Are you alone?”

“No. Robin is in her room.”

“Oh. I’ll have to ask you to come out to my place, then.”

Blaine rubbed her eyes and shifted the phone to her other ear. “Bernice, what do you want to talk to me about?”

The woman paused. Then she said, “Dilaudid.”

“The drug Martin was taking.”

“Yes.”

Another pause stretched out, and Blaine finally said, “Bernice, I don’t know anything about Dilaudid. I didn’t even know Martin was taking it.”

“No?” She was breathing heavily, and her voice sounded slightly slurred. “Sheriff Quint questioned me about the drug today. I didn’t tell him anything. I was…scared. But I’m a truthful woman. I won’t lie anymore.”

Blaine’s hand tightened on the receiver. “You won’t lie about what?”

“About what I know.”

“Bernice, will you just say what you mean?” Blaine asked, both irritated and alarmed. She’d never liked Bernice’s suspicious glances and malicious tongue, but at least the woman had never acted weird before.

“I don’t want to talk about this over the phone. And I can’t come there.”

“Why not?”

“I’m…I’m having one of my headaches. My migraines. They’re caused by tension. I’ve lived with a lot of tension the past few months. And today when the sheriff questioned me…well, this can’t go on.”

“
What
can’t go on?”

“My silence. My silence about the Dilaudid. My silence about the afternoon Mr. Avery died.”

Blaine felt as if her own breath had stopped. “The afternoon Martin died? You said you weren’t here.”

“I was afraid.”

Blaine clutched the phone. “Bernice,
please
, this is cruel. What are you
talking
about?”

“Come to my home. You know where it is, don’t you?”

“Of course, but I don’t see why you can’t just tell me—”

“Robin is in the house.”

“So?”

“Come to my house, Blaine. I’ll tell you everything, and maybe we can figure out something, some way to save her. After all, she’s the same age as my granddaughter, Susie. That’s why I haven’t said anything before now. I knew how much she loved her daddy. But all these killings…And now they’re onto the Dilaudid.”

Blaine’s hands turned icy. “Bernice, are you saying that Robin—”

“Just come to my house. If you aren’t here in twenty minutes, I’m calling the sheriff.”

The line went dead, but Blaine sat holding the receiver with stiff fingers. The doubt, the
fear
that had almost died in her mind during the past few months, had been fanned back to life by Bernice’s cryptic comments. Robin, who had loved her father and looked with such desolation on his misery, his helplessness. Robin, who was supposed to have been with Rosie the afternoon of Martin’s death. Could it be?

Blaine finally laid the receiver back in the cradle and stood up, running her hands through her hair. This was ridiculous, unthinkable. Bernice had simply…had simply what? Suddenly lost her mind? It was possible. She was obviously scared half to death about missing medicine. Maybe she’d be willing to throw blame on Robin rather than admit to incompetence on her own part. But that was rather extreme. What would happen to her if it were proved she
had
misplaced medicine? She’d lose her nursing license. Yet what if people took seriously the accusing finger she pointed at Robin? Hadn’t Blaine had her own doubts about exactly what had happened the day Martin died, a day when he’d suddenly come into possession of a key to the gun case she’d so carefully hidden and retrieved a revolver he could hardly have reached without turning the gun case over on himself?

“I have to find out what she’s going to tell the police,” Blaine said aloud. “I have to decide whether she really knows something or whether she’s just making insinuations because of panic. Either way, the repercussions could be disastrous. But what about Robin? I can’t leave her here alone.”

She called Cait, but there was no answer, which wasn’t surprising. It was almost seven. She would be bathing Sarah, and Kirk was probably still at the shop, working. Rick was out of the question. The very thought of him being left alone with Robin sent shivers down her back, although she still couldn’t imagine he was a killer. John? No, not after what Robin had said earlier about Blaine’s wanting to get her out of the way so she could be with John. Besides, it was Saturday night. He always went out of town on the weekends.

No one. There was no one. “That’s what you get for shutting yourself off from the world,” she muttered. “You have four people you can call on for help, and they’re either unavailable or unacceptable. There’s nothing left but to go alone. I’ll go and be back as fast as possible.”

She hurried out of her room and down the hall to Robin’s. “Rob!” she yelled above the sounds of Poison. “Robin!” There was no answer, and finally she turned the knob. The door was locked. Great, Blaine thought. She’s gone into one of her colossal pouting spells. “Robin, please open the door.” The door did not open. “Robin, I have to go out,” Blaine shouted, determined not to get angry. She couldn’t handle anger on top of everything else she was feeling. “I’ll activate the alarm system before I go. Don’t answer the door for anyone, okay?” Nothing. “
Okay?
” Damn that impossible girl! she thought. “I’m leaving Ashley here with you. I’ll be back soon.”