Sisters (27 page)

‘Please. Her name is Dory Colson. Couldn’t you find a doctor to take a look at her? I know all these inmates are depressed, but she seems dangerously so.’

‘What are you looking at him for?’ Witkowski asked irritably.

Robinson ignored his fellow guard. ‘What’s her name?’ he asked.

‘Dory Colson. And my name is Alex Woods. This is my information.’ Alex took out a piece of paper and wrote it down. She handed it to Robinson.

Robinson looked it over thoroughly. Then he looked up at Alex. ‘I’ll give it to the doc when he comes in Tuesday,’ he said.

Witkowski laughed.

Alex could feel herself trembling with rage. ‘She’s a human being. Even if she’s in jail, she deserves to be treated fairly. I promise you, if anything happens to my sister, I’m going to hold you both responsible.’

Witkowski’s lizard-like eyes widened and then narrowed again. ‘Don’t you threaten me, ma’am.’

Alex did not back down. ‘Don’t you ignore my sister,’ she said.

Alex went out to her car and sat down in the driver’s seat, still fuming from her encounter with the guards. Maybe, she thought, if she called the detectives who were working on Lauren’s murder, she could tell them about Joy and ask them to intercede on Dory’s behalf at the same time. It was worth a try.

She looked up Langford’s number on her cell and rang it. The phone went directly to voicemail. ‘Detective Langford,’ she said. ‘I’m . . . uh . . . this is Alex Woods. I just came from seeing my sister in jail and she is dangerously depressed. No one seems willing to get her treatment, and I wondered if you could help. Also, I may know something about Lauren’s murder. A possibility to explore, anyway. Please call me back as soon as you get this.’

Alex ended the call and sat, lost in thought, in the front seat of her car. Then she made one more call. This time, she was successful.

‘Alex?’

‘Hey, Seth,’ she said.

‘You sound terrible. What’s the matter?’

‘How much time have you got?’ she asked ruefully.

‘All the time in the world for you,’ he said.

Alex sighed. ‘I just came from the Suffolk County Jail.’

‘What were you doing there?’

‘Visiting Dory.’

‘Dory’s back in jail?’ he exclaimed. ‘What happened?’

‘They think she was the one who stabbed me.’

‘Stabbed you? Jesus, Alex. What is going on? Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I needed some stitches, but I’m OK.’

‘Why did Dory stab you?’ he cried.

‘I’m not sure she did,’ Alex said.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this before.’

Alex shook her head. ‘I didn’t want you to race home. I know you have a lot of loose ends to tie up out there.’

‘None more important than this,’ he said, with a hint of annoyance. ‘I can always come back here and do the rest. If something . . . happened to you, none of it would matter anyway.’

Alex smiled. ‘Thanks.’

‘You have to tell me what’s going on with you.’

‘I know,’ she said wearily.

‘I’m not yelling at you,’ he said. ‘But it makes me feel so helpless. Hearing that you were stabbed. Where did this happen?’

‘At home.’

‘And Dory did it.’

‘They think so.’

‘You don’t?’ he asked.

‘I don’t . . . know. I don’t really think so.’

‘You didn’t see the person.’

‘No,’ she said.

‘And now you’re visiting Dory in jail?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘She’s very depressed, Seth. And no one at the jail gives a damn. I’m worried.’

‘She should be depressed,’ he said shortly.

Alex was silent in response. She had the sense that she could feel him trying to adjust his perspective at the other end of the line.

‘OK, look,’ he said. ‘I’m going to leave here tonight. It’s better to drive at night anyway. When I get back I’ll go with you to the jail, and we’ll make sure that they get her treatment or something.’

‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’m in the car. I better go.’

‘Try not to worry,’ he said.

‘I’m worried about you,’ she said. ‘Driving at night.’

‘I’ll be fine. I’ll be with you tomorrow.’

‘I can’t wait,’ she said. ‘I feel better just thinking about it.’

‘OK. Till tomorrow then.’ She noticed that he hadn’t repeated his ‘I love you,’ but then again, she hadn’t yet said it in return. Tomorrow, she thought.

‘Safe journey home,’ she said, and ended the call.

The light of the winter day was fading as she pulled into the driveway. Along the tree line she could see the brilliant oranges, purples and grays of a winter sunset. She was glad to be home.

Wearily, she got out of the car and walked up to the house. She opened the front door and, as she walked in, relished the quiet. And then realized that it was wrong.

‘Remus?’ she said.

There was no barking, no excited sliding down the hall, no panting as he crowded her, eager to be petted. Her heart suddenly turned cold. ‘Where are you, boy?’ she asked.

There was no response.

Could he possibly be sleeping? she wondered. She knew better. Even if he were asleep, his keen young ears would hear the car stopping in the driveway, her tread on the front porch, the door opening. ‘Remus,’ she whispered. She began to walk through the house, hesitating before glancing in each room. When he wasn’t there, she felt a little bit hopeful, until she arrived at the doorway of the next room and turned on the light. Every step she took she felt a terrible dread that she would find him lying on the floor, his life gone or ebbing away from him.

Don’t think like that, she told herself. He’s fine. He’s just a pup. Maybe he got out when the mailman opened the door to drop the mail on the floor. Maybe Laney came over and let him out by accident. Maybe he’s off running somewhere. But she knew in her heart that no one would see Remus bounding out of the house and just calmly walk away. There had to be another explanation. You automatically think he’s dead, she admonished herself. Always the worst-case scenario. It was no wonder she thought that way after what had happened to her parents. She allowed herself that. But still . . .

Room by room she went through the first floor, calling for him. But he did not respond. She reached the back of the house, opened the door to the porch and stepped out, shivering in the dim twilight. Even though darkness was descending on the yard, and Remus was dark himself, it only took a moment to discern his shape prone on the porch floor – still, but not sleeping. No movement, no sound.

‘Remus!’ she cried. She fell to her knees beside him and reached out her hand, laying it on his shiny, smooth coat. He was rigid.

‘Remus,’ she wailed.

And then she was hit on the head from behind. She crumpled to the floor beside her dog.

THIRTY-ONE

W
hen she woke up she was in the kitchen, tied to one of the cheerfully painted wooden kitchen chairs. Her hands and feet were bound. Joy Ennis stood in front of her, watching her come around.

Alex’s head was pounding. ‘Joy. What the hell?’ Alex blinked at her, trying to clear her vision. Her eyes struggled to focus on details. The beauty mark nestled between Joy’s lips and the dimple in her cheek. Her chin-length hair, streaked with gray, but still a mass of fetching, unruly curls. Her liquid brown eyes were sorrowful. The remains of a devastating beauty.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Joy.

‘You’re sorry? Seriously? Let me go,’ Alex insisted.

Joy shook her head regretfully and picked up a gun from the counter beside her, holding it with both hands and pointing it at Alex.

Alex gasped.

‘I had to use this on Remus,’ Joy said apologetically. ‘I had to get him out of the way. Last time he made things difficult.’

‘Last time,’ Alex said in an unsteady, ragged voice.

‘All that barking drawing attention. Not to mention this,’ Joy said, revealing a bite wound on her forearm.

‘Jesus. How could you?’

Joy shrugged. ‘I had to.’

Alex felt angry tears pricking her eyelids. ‘How could you kill a dog? It’s like killing a child.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Joy hurriedly. ‘I wouldn’t do that. Of course not.’

Alex looked up at her, confusion mixed with her relief. ‘But you just said . . .’ She stared at the gun in Joy’s hand.

‘Oh, this. It isn’t a real gun. It’s a tranquilizer gun. It’s made out of hard plastic. It shoots tranquilizer darts. You can buy them on the Internet. I just used it to drug the dog. Knock him out. After I knocked you out, I dragged the dog out to the utility shed at the edge of the backyard and locked him in. Hopefully he won’t wake up for a while.’

‘You knocked me out with a plastic gun?’ Alex asked weakly.

‘Oh, no. I used that,’ said Joy, pointing to a cast-iron frying pan sitting on one of the stove’s burners.

‘Why?’ Alex asked, trying to keep from weeping. ‘Why Remus? Why me?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Joy. ‘I had to. That dog was ready to tear me apart the other night when I was in the pantry.’

Alex’s heart thudded in her chest. ‘It was you in the pantry.’

‘That seems pretty obvious,’ said Joy.

‘Wasn’t that enough? Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?’

Alex’s phone began to ring.

Joy set down the stun gun on the counter, rummaged in Alex’s pocket for the phone and looked at the caller ID. She grimaced, hesitating, and then held the phone to Alex’s ear. ‘Answer it,’ she said. ‘Sound normal. Be careful what you say.’ She pulled the frying pan off the range top and brandished it to remind Alex that she would knock her out again if she had to.

Alex answered the phone. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello? This is Detective Spagnola. You called a little while ago? Ms Woods?’

‘Yes. I called,’ said Alex.

‘I got your message. I was a little surprised to hear that you were worried about Dory. Since we’ve arrested her for attacking you.’

It wasn’t Dory, she wanted to say. It was this maniac, who is holding me captive right now. Alex found that she could not form a reply. She was acutely conscious of Joy, standing beside her, holding the phone to her ear, and the cast-iron pan over her head. Joy smelled like a frightened animal.

‘Ms Woods? Is something wrong?’

‘Dory,’ she choked out, ‘needs to see a shrink. She needs medication.’

‘That’s not really our call,’ said Spagnola. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but that’s the jurisdiction of the corrections department. You mentioned something else. Something important?’

Alex could see the skillet in Joy’s hand, trembling beside her ear. ‘I can’t talk now,’ said Alex. She could hear the frantic note in her own voice. Joy abruptly ended the call, threw the phone down on the floor and stomped on it.

Why didn’t I say her name? Alex thought miserably. But there was no use in second-guessing herself. Her head was still foggy from the blow, and she had no doubt that Joy would hit her again if she had to.

‘OK,’ said Alex. ‘OK. Whatever you want.’

‘You should never have gotten involved in this,’ said Joy. She lowered the skillet and went over to the stove. She turned her back to Alex and began to fiddle with something on the burners.

Alex looked around the kitchen where she had spent so many happy times after school, talking to her mother, eating a snack. Or having a cup of tea with her father. The safest of places. Long ago. Nevermore.

‘I know why you stabbed me,’ said Alex. ‘You wanted Dory to be blamed.’

Joy sighed and turned back around. ‘You’re right. As long as she was convicted of Lauren’s murder, I was safe. Once she got out, I had to throw suspicion back on her. I had to end that probe into Lauren’s death.’

‘Because you were afraid the police would find out you were Lauren’s lover,’ said Alex. ‘And realize that you were the one who killed her.’

‘I didn’t kill her,’ said Joy wearily.

‘It’s kind of stupid to deny it to me,’ said Alex.

Joy shook her head and, to Alex’s amazement, tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I didn’t kill her. Therese killed her.’

‘Therese?’ Alex was genuinely shocked. ‘Your daughter, Therese?’

Joy nodded and hung her head.

‘Delicate little Therese?’

‘She’s stronger than she looks. Especially when she’s upset.’

‘But she was only a kid when Lauren died.’

‘She was fourteen.’

‘What happened?’

Joy wiped away her tears. ‘You may as well know. She was coming by to see Elaine. She was coming in the garden doors like she always did. Just like she was yesterday, when she heard you talking about me. That day – the day Lauren died – she heard Lauren pleading with me to go back to Branson with her. Lauren was talking about how wonderful it used to be between us, and how it could be that way again. She began reminding me of details, kissing me.

‘You know, there was something about Lauren I could never resist. Even when she was a teenager and began to visit me upstairs, I could feel her intensity. She was so lonely and desperate. Elaine wouldn’t even give her room to breathe. I knew it was crazy to get involved with her, but Lauren was such a seductive creature. When she moved to Branson I was almost relieved. But she kept pleading with me to come to her – and finally, I gave in. I love Chris. I do. And I was always straight. But desire can be a kind of madness.

‘Anyway, that day, when she started kissing me, I found myself kind of falling into her again. I think we both got a little bit carried away. I wasn’t really going back to her. It was too hard on Therese the last time. But I may have been agreeing with Lauren, saying that maybe I would go back with her. I didn’t really mean it. It was just in the passion of the moment.

‘Therese saw it all and just flipped. She ran in and grabbed a knife. She started stabbing Lauren. I was so shocked. I know how frail she looks, but she was out of control. It was like a frenzy. I just froze. Lauren couldn’t get away. She was hobbled by the surgery. She never had a chance.

‘It was my fault, really. Therese hadn’t known about my affair with Lauren. But my leaving had put her through so much pain. She thought it was going to begin all over again.’

‘Holy shit,’ said Alex. ‘That poor kid.’

‘I had no idea she was capable of such a thing. I’m sure she didn’t know either.’