“Give us a minute. You’re so tired-if you lie down you’ll be gone. We need to talk. Come sit down, let me ask a few questions, get it on tape. Then you can sleep.”
Dillon sat down on the floor between Harper and Charlie, her back to the concrete wall, the three of them watching the cavernous opening that yawned beyond the frail barrier-though Joe would far rather see the cougar approaching than Crystal and her friend. Light from the flashlight bounced against the wall, brightening Charlie’s carrot-colored hair and Dillon’s darker, auburn bob. The tape recorder that Harper took from his pocket was no bigger than a can of cat food.
“Do you mind the tape?”
“No. We do tapes at school.”
“You hid here after the murder?”
“Yes, he was chasing me,” she said, yawning.
“Who was?”
“The man who killed Ruthie and Mrs. Marner. The same man who shot at us tonight. Crystal said his name was Stubby Baker.”
Harper raised an eyebrow.“Did you know a Stubby Baker?”
“No. I didn’t know that man.”
“The evening of the murder, did you see the killer’s face? Could you identify him if you saw him again?”
“His hat was pulled down and his coat collar turned up, but I got one good look. When his face was close to me. Thin face. Bony. Those eyes-black eyes. The same man as tonight, with the gun. And he was riding Bucky.”
“You’re sure it was my gelding?”
“Of course I’m sure. I know Bucky. Your horse, your saddle. Bucky’s bridle-that nice silver bit. The man’s hat and clothes looked like yours, too. When he rode up to us, with the hat pulled down, I thought it was you. I thought how strange you had your hat pulled down because the sun wasn’t in your eyes, it was behind you, real low in the sky. Then I saw-saw it wasn’t you.”
“You saw his face clearly.”
“At first, just his eyes. The sun was all dazzle behind him. But he looked right at me. Whispered, ‘Help. Help me,’ and he went limp over the saddle, limp down over the horn like he’d fainted or something. He grabbed at the horn and slid down, fell on the ground. Mrs… Mrs. Marner got off to help him. He… Do I have to tell more about it now?”
“We can talk about it later. How much did you see of his face? Tell me again, the general shape of his face. Was he clean-shaven?”
“He…” She looked at Harper, frowning. “His face was thin like yours. No beard or mustache. Smooth, no black stubble.” She held her hands to her own face, indicating where his hat was pulled down and his collar turned up. “Thin, long face, like yours,” Dillon said apologetically. “But no wrinkles. And-real high cheekbones. And black eyes.Notyou, Captain Harper. Not your eyes. Cold black eyes. And his mouth-a thin, hard mouth.”
Harper glanced at Charlie.“You don’t have paper or a pencil?”
“I don’t have my purse, only my keys.”
“Later, would you try a sketch?”
She nodded, as if etching Dillon’s description into memory.
“We’ll do a lineup,” he told Dillon. “When he grabbed Helen, how did you get away?”
“He hit her and cut-I saw him cut her throat.” Her voice shook, but she looked at him steadily. “Ruthie and I were kicking and hitting him, from our horses, trying to get him off Mrs. Marner. He grabbed Ruthie’s leg and pulled her off. It was all plunging horses and blood and screaming. I couldn’t… I hit and kicked, but when he grabbed for me I kicked Redwing, slapped my reins into his face, and whipped her.” Dillon looked at him desolately. “I ran away-I hung on to the saddle. He was pulling at me, I was nearly off. I kicked Redwing and hung on hard, kicked him and hit her, and Ruthie screaming and screaming behind me. I-I left them, Captain Harper. Left them there. I ran away.” She hid her face, crying. He put his arms around her, held her tight, letting her cry, looking over her head at Charlie, his face so filled with pain that the cats wanted to hold Harper safe, the way he washolding Dillon. And Charlie reached to touch his cheek.
But when Dillon could stop crying, Harper held her away.“Then what happened?”
“I kept going, as fast as Redwing could run. He came pounding behind me. When I looked back at him, I saw the other man back there. He had Ruthie, I could see her white blouse. He was hitting and hitting her. Then I ran into a branch, it nearly knocked me off. I had to lean low, kind of dizzy. Redwing was running full out. It hurt and I felt so dizzy I was scared I’d fall-or that she’d fall, stumble and fall. It was getting dark. He was getting closer. Bucky’s so big and fast, he was coming so fast, and the Marners’ horses were running after his horse, all wild, their reins and stirrups flapping.”
She blew her nose.
“And then?” Harper didn’t let up: he was going to have it all before he let her sleep.
“Then I was around the bend-that bend in the trail, by the ruins?” she said tiredly.
“Yes?”
“I knew he couldn’t see me there, it’s all trees. You know the place. I slid off and whacked Redwing hard; sent her flying, and I hid in the bushes.
“When he’d gone past, ducking low under the branches and beating Bucky, I doubled back and ran.
“I thought if Redwing kept running it would be awhile, under those trees, before he saw I wasn’t on her. I ran through the bushes and into the old house and upstairs so I could see if he came back.
“He did,” she said, swallowing. “I saw him coming. That was the worst time, when I saw him coming back. I was so scared I didn’t think I could move.
“I hid in the nursery, in that box beside the fireplace, under all those pieces of wall piled around it. I didn’t know where else to go. I knew I could get the box open without moving all the stuff, I’d looked in it once. You don’t really notice it-just looks like part of the junk.”
Dillon shivered.“I heard him coming up the stairs, heard him moving around the room. I was so scared. The box was like a coffin, and I’d trapped myself in there.
“I had the pocketknife Dad gave me, I had it open. Thinking, what good would that little knife do? He was bigger than me, he’d take it away from me.
“But I thought if he grabbed me and didn’t see it, if he pulled me up to his face the way he did Mrs. Marner, jerked her right up to his face, I’d jab it in his throat before he ever saw. I was trying to remember where the carotid artery is, exactly. I felt sick. I knew I had to try.”
Joe looked at Dulcie. Her eyes were wide with pain and with love for the child. Dillon clung to Harper, clutching his arm. She might be thirteen and nearly grown, but at that moment she seemed only a little child, wanting to be protected. And Dillon reached to Charlie, pulling her closer, hanging on to them both.
People talked about therapy, Joe thought. Talked about crisis counseling. What a child really needed was to be held tight and loved, and helped to talk it out.
Harper said,“You heard him leave the nursery?”
“I thought he left. I wasn’t sure-maybe he was waiting. I stayed still for a long time.”
Harper nodded.“How long do you think you stayed in the box?”
“I don’t know. Maybe an hour. It seemed like forever. When I came out it was really dark. I peeked out first. It was quiet, I couldn’t hear him. But I waited some more, until I had to pee, bad.
I didn’t hear anything but the crickets. When I came out, I crawled over to the edge where the floor ends and looked down.
“It was dark but the moon was coming up. I could see the pale garden walls, so if Bucky was there, I thought I’d see him-except if the man had hidden him, and was waiting for me. He killed Helen and Ruthie-or hurt Ruthie. I knew what he looked like. He’d have to kill me.
“Captain, Ruthie was only twentysomething, like my cousin. She was still in college.”
Harper nodded.
“I knew, when he chased me, I should have ridden fast down the hill for help. That I might have saved Ruthie. Except, that other man already had her. And going down the bare hills where I couldn’t hide, he would have caught me. I was sure they were dead. I knew Mrs. Marner was dead.”