“May I see Aubrey?” I asked.
Deborah nodded. “I'll go check on Candace. Just go on in. Aunt Sass is with him.” She squeezed my hand and went up the stairs.
I rapped on the door. A voice called, “Come in.”
I slipped into the dim room. Aubrey lay under the sheets, a sheen on his flushed face. Like Candace's, his room reeked of vomit, a sickening perfume scenting the air. Aunt Sass sat by his bed, dabbing at his lips with a cloth. She glanced up at me then stared.
“What do you want?” she asked. Her voice was curiously blank, drained of its usual verve and sarcasm.
“How is he?”
“He was hallucinating earlier. Now he's asleep. I don't want to think he may not wake up.” She turned back to her son's form. “Candace?”
“The same. Perhaps not as bad. She didn't drink as much as he did.” I pulled a chair up to the opposite side of Aubrey's bed. Sass watched me for a long moment, then turned away.
I went to his closet-no tennis shoes there. I checked on the other side of the bed, aware of Sass's eyes on me. A scuffed pair of white leather sneakers lay on their sides. I examined the bottom of one; the tread was similar to the print left in the attic's dust.
So Aubrey had been the one sneaking around the attic. And the one who'd hidden Paul's jewelry, and probably the one who took it from Lolly's room while I hid in the closet. So why had Wendy lied for him?
Sass wiped at her son's mouth, although I couldn't see any spittle had formed. “Mutt says we can't take a boat yet. Have to wait for the storm to break.”
“Mutt doesn't run this family anymore,” I said softly, and her hand jerked along Aubrey's lips.
She made no answer, so I pressed on: “Don't you think he's pulled the strings long enough on you all?”
“I don't know what you mean.” Her eyes locked on Aubrey's sleeping, flushed face. His breath seemed a bare whisper.
“If Deborah didn't get the poison out of him soon enough, he'll die. His heart will fail.”
Her glower raked across my face. “Why do you say such horrible things to me?”
“Tell me who did this to him, Sass.”
“I don't know,” she snapped. “If I did, I'd settle the score.”
“Really? You knew Bob Don killed Paul and didn't seem to hold a grudge.”
She exhaled in a long, slow sigh. “Get out of here. I don't know what you're talking about.”
“End this charade now, Sass. Silence has brought this family nothing but pain. It's put Lolly in her grave. And it may put Candace and Aubrey there, too.” At this, she shuddered.
“No, he's going to be okay. My baby's going to be just fine.” She uttered her assurance with a strident tone.
“You know, if you and I were ever on the same side, we could kick serious ass,” I murmured, and she sobbed. I sat as her crying intensified. Aubrey moved restlessly in his doze.
“He knew, didn't he? He found out about the cover-up cooked up between the elder Goertzes to protect Pop for Paul's death.”
Her lips narrowed in answer.
“And someone found out he knew. And decided to shut him up. Except Candace got taken out along with him.”
“I'm sorry about your girlfriend, I hope she's okay-”
“She might be. But she lost our baby.” Sass's face drained of color and she made a noise in her throat. “My baby's lost. Your baby might be lost, too. Is all this worth your silence?”
“I don't know who did this to him. I don't know who killed Lolly.”
“Do you have a suspicion?”
She shook her head. “It could be any of them.”
“What's the bad blood between Aubrey and Tom?”
“I don't know. They always got along fine until Aubrey came back from being a runaway. I think Tom disapproved of Aubrey's mistakes.”
I stood. “I believe I'm going to have a few words with Tom.”
“Maybe-maybe you could just let this alone,” she whispered. “Aubrey's doing better, I think, and I'm sure Can-dace will be fine. You can leave and never come back, and I'll be sure Aubrey stays away and keeps his mouth shut. No one has to know your father killed Paul.”
“And no one has to know you covered it up?” I took a step back. “You're more worried about your own skin than you are about your son's.”
The accusation wounded her and she stiffened. “That's not true.” But her eyes didn't linger near me, or near her unconscious son's face.
“No wonder he ran away.” I headed for the door. “Where are the notes for his book, Sass? His laptop?” I gestured at the empty desk near his bed. “Did they get up and walk away?”
She evaded my question. “What're you going to do, Jordan?” Sass challenged. “Tell your tale to the police? Lead them to Paul's body? You have no evidence. And if you blow the whistle, your father might be tried for murder. Is that what you want? Huh? Answer me!”
I hesitated by the closed door before I turned back to her. “Who said anything about the police, Sass? Mutt's convinced the police to leave us alone. I'm not so sure I'm interested in law as much as justice. I don't need the police for that.”
“Then you're just like the rest of us. No worse and no better. I shouldn't have called you a mistake. You're a Goertz, through and through.” She sank down next to her son and began to stroke his face with hard caresses, as though she could pour her own life's energies into him.
I shut the door on her and her words. Tom and Mutt had questions to answer.
21
As I went down the stairs, a jab of pain in my own stomach nearly floored me. I realized I hadn't eaten a bite since lunch. I needed to keep up my strength, although eating food of any sort in this house seemed risky. I'd find some canned soup-or other safe comestible-in the kitchen, and fix dinner for myself, Pop, Gretchen, and Deborah. Hell, maybe I'd even fix something for Sass. And perhaps Aubrey and Candace could be helped by food.
I skirted past the voices in the study. I could hear Jake and Mutt arguing loudly. Apparently Jake had been retrieved from his bedroom with all the panic and had found a second wind to bicker with Mutt. I hurried to the kitchen, finding it deserted. I busied myself with pots and pans. Grilled-cheese sandwiches and canned tomato soup should be safe, I reasoned.
My eyes stung; the combo was a favorite lunch of Can-dace's. I tried not to think about her-about the baby-too much. Not out of selfishness. It's just that I didn't want to be crumpled into a fetal ball, too consumed by grief to act. Or avenge.
I didn't have the luxury of remorse right now. The knot I felt in my guts would have to wait for a better time to unravel. When Candace and I could mourn together.
My shoulder blades itched as I worked, as though Sass's words had left a spike in my back. Just exactly how did I propose to bring this poisoner to justice without exposing Pop as a killer? Even though I knew he'd shot Paul in self-defense-or even by accident-the family had conspired to cover the death up as though it'd been the most heinous fratricide ever committed. What if the police and the courts viewed Pop's actions as homicide? By continuing to pry into the past, I might be sending my father to prison.
I emptied the tomato soup-its tanginess nipping at my nose-into a pot and turned on the heat. The soup resembled sour, thick blood and again I fought back thoughts of Candace. Red. Reddish soup, reddish blood on her legs, on my hands. I remembered last Valentine's Day-the scattering of red rose petals on my bed, our laughter at my silly antics, which seemed so far away.
I belonged by her side.
I wondered: if I did nothing, would anyone act? Lolly was dead. Aubrey and Candace might die. And with a mad poisoner in the family, would any of us truly be safe?