“He told me no one would care about some old photographs,” Rebecca said. “He said I wanted to pose for him. He called me a tease.” She looked directly at me. “I’m not that naive girl from Mayville Heights anymore. I told him all I needed was a little suspicion that he was a dirty old man, not proof. I told him I was willing to bet there were other women out there he’d tricked into posing for him over the years, and worse. I said maybe someone else would speak up if I started.” She rubbed her hand over her bandaged wrist.
“He came after you,” I said. My shoulder was aching and I had to shift in the wooden chair. “That poultice isn’t for arthritis, is it?”
“He grabbed my arm and his ring cut my wrist.”
The other blood at the library.
“I pushed him and I ran,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know he’d hit his head.”
“You met Roma somewhere on the way home.”
“I was on my way up the hill. I’d had an emergency—a dog choking on a chicken bone,” Roma said. “Ever give a German shepherd the Heimlich?”
“You wrapped Rebecca’s wrist.”
“Yes.”
“Catnip, for its antiseptic properties.” I folded my arm across my chest, sliding my hand under the cuff of my shirt.
“That’s right. She’s allergic to neomycin and I didn’t want to take a chance with anything else.”
“She didn’t tell you how she got hurt.”
Roma still looked a little lost. “She said she’d tripped on the sidewalk. She was embarrassed.”
“You realized you’d dropped your scarf somewhere,” I said to Rebecca.
“Yes, I did.”
“You didn’t find it because Violet had beaten you to it.”
Violet smiled, but there was no warmth in it. I fished in my pocket again and held out the bead from Rebecca’s scarf. “This was at the library.”
Rebecca took the glass ball from my hand and rolled it between her fingers.
“Where was the scarf?” I asked Violet.
She shrugged but said nothing.
“You found Easton at the theater.”
“Yes.”
As usual she was calm and collected, her posture perfect. I was surprised she’d admit to having been with Easton.
“He’d always practiced late at night, so no one would find out how much work it was for him to learn a new piece. I knew he’d be there. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. I went to tell him to leave. Then I went home. That’s all.”
My mouth was so dry. I took a sip of my now-cold coffee. “He didn’t remember you, either, did he?” I asked.
She laughed. As with her smile, there was no trace of warmth or humor in the sound. “No more than he remembered Rebecca.”
“He’d hit his head at the library when he grabbed Rebecca and she pulled away. I’m guessing he lost his balance and fell against the disassembled staging.”
Violet gave an elegant shrug. “I don’t really know how he hit his head. He seemed fine.”
Rebecca blanched. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she said.
“You didn’t,” I said. “He grabbed you. You pushed him away. You were protecting yourself. He was twice your size.”
“Kathleen’s right,” Roma said. “What happened isn’t your fault.”
I turned back to Violet. “You cleaned up his head.”
She nodded imperceptibly. “There’s a first-aid kit backstage. I may have helped him a little.”
“And you gave him aspirin.”
She studied her nails for a moment. “He was complaining of a headache. He may have taken something.”
“You gave him aspirin?” Roma said, clearly shocked. “He had a head injury. He was probably bleeding into his brain.”
“Vi, what did you do?” Rebecca asked.
Violet smiled over the table at her. A genuine smile. “Only what I should have done a long time ago.”
“I don’t understand,” Rebecca said.
“I knew who—what—Easton was the first day I walked into his class. I should have protected you from him. Instead I ruined your life.”
Rebecca stood up and walked around the table to Violet’s chair. “You didn’t ruin my life. Why do you think that?”
“You went after Easton because of Ami,” Violet said. She reached up and took Rebecca’s hands in her own. “You love her as if she were your own granddaughter. If it hadn’t been for him, for me, she would have been.”
Tears filled Rebecca’s eyes. “No, no, no, Violet,” she said. “I lost Everett because I was afraid to tell him the truth. Because I didn’t trust that he loved me as much as he said he did.”
Rebecca and Everett?
She squeezed Violet’s hands, then let go of them and turned to me. “Kathleen, I’m so sorry for getting you involved in this and then not speaking up. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I can and I have,” I said.
She paused, searching for just the right words. “I saw those pictures, you know. Someone sent them in the mail. They weren’t so terrible. I should have told Everett. I was scared that I wasn’t good enough for him. My mother cleaned other people’s houses. I thought that mattered.”
“It didn’t.”
We all turned at the words. Everett was standing on the gazebo steps. His eyes were locked on Rebecca. I’d forgotten that Maggie had rescheduled our meeting for this morning.
“That man was the reason you ended things with me? Over a few pictures of your bare shoulder?”
“It was a long time ago,” Rebecca said, blinking away her tears.
“And you risked everything to protect Ami.”
“I’m all right,” she said. “And I love Ami. For herself. I would do anything for her.”
She swallowed and pulled the sleeve of her blouse down over her bandaged arm. “There’s something I haven’t told anyone,” she said. “When I was away last week, it was really so I could see a doctor. A specialist.”
Violet paled and pressed her lips together. Roma leaned forward in her chair.
“I was getting a second opinion. I have a growth on my leg. I was afraid . . . I thought maybe I wouldn’t have another chance to stop Easton and protect Ami.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Everett said. The way he looked at her gave me a lump in my throat.
Rebecca turned her attention to Violet again. “Tell me you didn’t do anything to that man,” she said.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Rebecca,” Violet said. “Things worked out the way they were supposed to.”
I leaned over to Roma. “Do you have your cell phone?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Would you call Marcus and ask him to come out here?”
She hesitated.
“Call him, please, Roma,” Rebecca said. “No more secrets.” Her eyes never left Everett’s face. It was like a scene from a romantic old movie.
Roma stood up, pulled out her cell and walked over to the railing. Behind me Violet got out of her chair and moved over to the far side of the gazebo, and I followed. Everett and Rebecca moved toward each other.
“You sent the pictures to Rebecca and to Phoebe Michaels,” I said. “Rebecca was your best friend, the sister you never had. As for Phoebe, she’d been very sheltered. I think you felt sorry for her.” Rebecca had told me Violet was deeply loyal to the people she cared about. I didn’t think Rebecca realized how deep that loyalty ran.
I pictured Violet as a lonely only child, without parents as a young woman and widowed shortly after that. Rebecca was, in many ways, the only constant, the only family in her life. I’d do anything for Sara and Ethan. Was it so far-fetched for Violet to feel the same way about Rebecca?
“I guess there’s no harm in telling you,” she said. “Yes, I did.”
“How did you get them?”
“I got them. Does it matter how?”
“I think you made it your business to find out where Williams—who had become Gregor Easton—had gone after he left Oberlin. I think you’re a very patient woman. You waited months, maybe a year. You tracked him down and you seduced him.” I was guessing, but her expression told me I was right.