Sleeping Beauty (75 page)

“And then what?” Josh asked.

“I don't know. Anne, what do you think?”

“We have to make a list of what we know and what we're guessing,” she said. She went to the desk in the corner of the kitchen, piled with cookbooks, recipes, grocery lists, and a basket of Christmas cards. She found a spiral notebook and brought it to the table. “We know Vince was the one who suggested taking the highway away from Illinois; I don't see how it fits in with everything else, except that it hurts a Chatham. Maybe that's enough; I don't know.”

She wrote as she spoke. “We know that Vince put the EPA onto Tamarack and tried to hurry up the cleanup. We know that the rock slide was started by a small dynamite blast above the drainage ditch and that Keith went up to check it and said he found no evidence of any problem, and he deals with dynamite in his job and ought to recognize blast marks. That's all we know for sure.

“We think that a bolt was removed from the gondola checking mechanism. It could have been removed at any time, since it didn't cause the accident; it only kept the gondola from shutting down. It may have fallen out and been found by someone who took it to Josh's house, but that seems highly unlikely. We think someone called the sheriff and told him where to look for it. We think a piece of wood was used to jam the J-grip and cause the gondola accident. It had to be done by someone who was familiar with the gondola and could be there without arousing suspicion, and Keith fits that description, but possibly others do, too. We think Keith may have been in touch with Vince, perhaps even working with him; we'll know more about that when we check the telephone records.”

She put down her pencil and looked at Josh, and Gail and Leo across the table. “We don't know for sure why one J-grip was jammed and not another.”

Leo sucked in his breath sharply.

“What does that mean?” Gail asked. “If you want to cause an accident, what difference does it make—”

Leo put his hand on her arm; he was looking at Anne. “You mean we have another coincidence. That out of one hundred sixty-eight gondola cars, the one that was jammed was the one you and I were in.”

Gail stared at him, and then at Anne.

Josh grasped Anne's hand and held it tightly, and her hand curved around his. She felt the strength of his long fingers, and his hard palm locked to hers, and for the first time that she could remember she warmed to the supporting warmth of another person. His strength became part of her strength, his closeness was not a threat but a protection. They sat that way for what seemed like a long time, and then the telephone rang.

“Yes,” Leo said, answering it, and after a few minutes, “Thanks. Yes, tomorrow morning. Let me know.” He hung up and turned to the others. “The patroller tossed the piece of wood over to the base of the gondola tower, to get it out of the way. They'll go find it tomorrow; he knows exactly where it is.”

“Anne,” Gail said, her voice almost a whisper, “he wouldn't try to
kill
you . . . Or Leo. He
wouldn't!”
But she was remembering that Anne had said, months earlier, that Vince had threatened to kill her. “I don't believe it,” she said, and there was desperation in her voice. “This is our family and some of us may do things that aren't nice, but we don't
kill
—” She choked on the word.

“We don't know,” Josh said tightly, clamping down on the agitation in his voice. He was gripping Anne's hand. “There's too much we don't know. It could be that he picked on the first car to go up that morning and didn't know or care who was in it. That's possible. But we can't rule it out that it was deliberate. Anne, if it was aimed at you, he'll try again. We've got to make sure you're protected.”

Anne looked swiftly at Leo and Gail. “Not only me.” A shiver swept through her.
I'll never be free of him; he'll never let me go.

She shook her head. “Wait. We have to think about this. If Vince was behind it—and we have to remember that we're not sure of anything—if he was, I'm sure he wouldn't try again, not for a long time. Nobody could miss the point if Leo or I had two . . . accidents in a row. I think we're all right for now; in fact, if we really were in danger, this is probably the safest time of all.” She looked at the three of them. “I am not going to hire bodyguards. I am not going to let him, or anyone else, put me under siege. I'm going to do everything I can to find out what really happened and make sure it doesn't happen again.”

Josh nodded. “Well said. But you'll still be careful crossing streets.”

“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose . . .” The chill swept her again. “You, too,” she said to Leo and Gail. “I guess we don't have to worry about Robin and Ned as long as they're in casts and stick close to you.”

“Listen
to us,” Gail said. “How can we be talking this way?”

“Let's stop,” Anne said. “I think we're saturated. Anyway, we can't do any more until we have more information.” She paused and looked at each of them. “I want to tell you,” she said slowly, “as awful as all this is, in another way it's been very special for me. The way the four of us have been together, working together and
being
together . . . it's meant so much to me. And I want to thank you, for being so close.”

Quick tears sprang to Gail's eyes. “You don't have to thank us; it's wonderful for us, too, Anne. We love being close to you; we love you. I can't imagine all those years without you.”

“We should be thanking
you,
” Leo said. “You've brought so much to us. Do you know how much our lives have changed because of you? I've been grateful for a long time. We do love you, Anne, and we all like it a lot that you're part of us.”

“You're part of all of us,” Josh said quietly. He had felt the pain of what lay behind her words, the emptiness in so much of her life before now, and he had had to force himself to sit still and not hold her close. Dearest Anne, I love you, he told her silently. Only Gail and Leo could say that aloud, at least for now.
I love you. And there won't be any emptiness for you, ever again, if I can help it.

“But we can't stop yet,” Leo said. “We aren't any closer to getting Josh off the hook. Even if they find that piece of wood and it fits, then what?”

“I don't know,” Josh said. “But scientists collect facts for a living. Lawyers do, too. So we've made a start.” He pushed back his chair. “Anne's right; we can't do any more right now, and we've had plenty of this for one night. And I have to go; I still have a lot of work to do tonight.”

“I'll walk you partway back,” Anne said. “I'd like some fresh air.”

“And walk back alone?” Gail asked.

“I'll be fine,” Anne said. “Gail, this is Riverwood and it's late and no one knows I'm going to be taking a walk.”

“It's damned cold,” Leo said.

“I won't go far and I'll dress warmly. I just want to think about something else for a while. I'll be back soon.”

They walked on the narrow road, their breaths making white puffs in the crystalline air. The black sky was thick with stars on either side of the wide, white ribbon of the Milky Way. Near the horizon was a crescent moon, with a star hanging from its tip. The only sound in the clear silence was the soft padding of their boots on the hard-packed snow. The warm lights of Gail and Leo's house vanished as the road curved, but the snowfields surrounding them shimmered in a faint glow from the starlight so that they could just make out each other's face.

They walked together, not speaking, letting the ugliness of what they had been talking about fade away in the splendor of the night. When the road curved again, and they both slipped and caught themselves on a patch of ice, Josh casually took Anne's hand, and held it. Hardly romantic, he thought dryly, since they were wearing heavy ski mittens
and the difference between holding hands and not holding hands could barely be felt, but he knew they were linked, and that was enough for him.

Anne glanced down, and smiled. In that icy, silent world, with their two figures moving in rhythm like shadows in the starlight, she felt even closer to him than in the warmth of the kitchen they had left behind.

“I'd like to hear about your teaching,” she said, and he told her about his graduate students who helped with his research, and about the discussions they had in class and in the campus coffee shop that often gave him new ways to think about his work. Anne heard the affection in his voice, and knew it was not only for students, but for people in general. He was open to them for what all of them could share, and he seemed to have no hostility, even for those he found he could not like; he had understanding, if not always sympathy.

A remarkable man, Anne thought, and then she wondered if no one had ever made him angry or jealous, or had caused him the kind of pain that one could not forget or even forgive. And she realized what a long way she was from really knowing him.

And what a long way he was from knowing her. But that could not be changed. She would not tell him about herself. Even thinking of saying the words made her colder than she was, and a long shiver ran through her body.

At once Josh stopped, midsentence. “You'd better get back,” he said. They stood in the middle of the road. He took her other hand and they looked at each other in the faint light.

“Good night,” Anne said. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“When are you leaving?” he asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon. Shall we meet in Leo's office first thing in the morning? That way we'll be there when the patroller brings in that piece of wood.”

“Yes. What time tomorrow afternoon? I'm on the four o'clock.”

Anne smiled. “Then we'll travel together. Good night, Josh.”

Through the heavy mittens, their hands clung for another moment. “Good night, Anne,” Josh said, and they turned in opposite directions.

Anne walked in long strides, suddenly very cold. Her face was icy and stiff, her fingertips felt frozen, and she curled her hands into fists inside her mittens. When she reached the house and opened the kitchen door, the shock of the warm room made her dizzy, and she leaned against the wall, blinking against the tears that had come into her eyes the last few minutes.

“The coffee's hot,” Leo said.

They were sitting as they had been when she and Josh left, Leo's arm around Gail, her head on his shoulder. Anne pulled off her heavy clothes and poured a mug of coffee, and sat opposite them. “It's freezing out there, but it's beautiful. Grandpa was right; Riverwood is the most perfect place in the valley. He must have loved this house.”

Gail nodded. “He did. But he never felt it was completely right, because you weren't here. You haven't told Josh anything, have you?”

“No. And you haven't either?”

“No!” Gail exclaimed. “But he's very smart, you know; he asked us if Vince's getting kicked out had anything to do with you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That it wasn't our story to tell. But you should tell him, Anne; you can't build a wall around it forever—”

“Sweetheart,” Leo said quietly, “she'll tell him when she can.” He looked at Anne and smiled, loving her, aching for her. He felt that all of them, at that moment, were precarious, but she was the only one with a wound so long lasting, and so devastatingly deep, it might never be healed. “Gail and I were wondering, while you were gone, whether, out of all these terrible things, one truly wonderful thing might come.”

Anne met his eyes with a startled look. “I don't know.” She took a sip of the hot coffee, then another, feeling it warm her body. “I don't know,” she said again.

*   *   *

The patroller brought the wet piece of wood to Leo's office and laid it on his desk. “Just where I left it; we just had to dig it out from under.”

“Thanks,” Leo said, and gave it to Josh, who turned it around in his fingers, looking at the gouges in it. “We'll check it against the J-grip; I called Matheny last night, and he said he'd be here at seven-thirty.”

Josh gave the piece of wood to Anne. “It's the damndest thing,” he said, his voice bemused. “Like visiting a country you've read about in a book. Or finding a tomb. We talk about things and imagine them and speculate about them, and then, suddenly, we're touching them.”

“Here's something else,” Leo said, and slid a small packet of papers across the desk. “Copies of the telephone bills from our office for the past six months.” He watched Anne and Josh leaf through them together. “I marked the ones to Vince's office and home; the area code 305 is Miami. I traced that one; it's some big-time Florida politician.”

“He must not have worried about being overheard,” Anne said after a few minutes. “He kept using the office phone.”

“Cheaper than calling from home,” Leo said dryly. “One of our small overhead problems.”

“Once a week or more, beginning last July,” Josh murmured. “I don't see anything before that. What happened last July?”

“I went to Ethan's funeral,” Anne said. “May I?” Josh gave her the stapled pages. She riffled through them. “Most of the calls seem to be in September and October, and then again in December.”

“September,” Josh said. “The reservoir. The drainage ditch.”

Leo nodded. “And December the gondola crashed.”

“What about October?” Josh asked.

“Nothing,” Leo mused. “Except . . . I think Beloit was in town that month—remember, Anne?—talking as if the company was already his.”

Jim Matheny knocked on the office door. “No secretary, so I came in.”

“Jim, look at this,” Leo said. He took the piece of wood and the two men walked to the outer office. He returned in less than a minute. “He'll check it right away; they've got the J-grip in their trailer. What do we do with these phone bills?”