"That was so thoughtful of you dear," said Bernie. "You really have a knack for thinking of others. Just the way you've come up here to take care of your grandmother…"
Carrie burst into tears. "Oh my God," she muttered, never looking away from Marc's body.
Jesse cleared his throat. "Why don't you ladies go home and I'll take your statements tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do here and I need to call Marc's father and brother."
Susanne and Bernie jumped up to help Eleanor to her feet. Maggie touched Carrie lightly, and for the first time since I had come upstairs, Carrie's eyes moved away from Marc. Instead she looked toward me. But there was no kindness there, no sadness. Just a hard stare that made me feel guilty and embarrassed, without knowing why.
"I made lemon squares," Bernie said to Jesse. "I don't think we'll be eating them, so tell the other officers." She offered the wrapped plate to Jesse, who quickly unwrapped it and took a large bite out of one.
"Mrs. Avallone made lemon squares," Jesse announced, and several other officers and paramedics walked over.
"We didn't have time to make coffee," Bernie apologized to the group.
"We'll get some later." Jesse smiled at her. "It's going to be a long night. Sugar and caffeine are exactly what we need." Then he leaned over and kissed Bernie on the cheek, leaving a little imprint of powdered sugar behind.
Bernie blushed. "I'll stop in at your mother's and tell her you'll be here, working late into the night."
"Thanks. She wasn't expecting to keep Allison overnight, but she'll have to now."
"Poor little thing, she'll miss you."
"Are you kidding? They play dress-up, eat cookies, and watch movies all night. Allie much prefers the company of her grandma to her boring old dad." His smile was broad now. The dead body behind him seemed to be forgotten amid playful conversation and lemon squares.
Bernie just waved him off. "I've never seen a father and daughter closer. Lizzy would be proud."
"Excuse me," I said a little more meekly than I intended. "What about Marc?"
Jesse nodded. He finished the lemon square in two quick bites. "You're absolutely right."
"He was working on the shop," I said. "He was here in the afternoon, but when I left he said he was going to head home for a few minutes. I don't know where he lives…"
"A block from here," Jesse said. "He said he was coming back?"
"Yeah. I asked him to clean the place up before everyone came tonight." My face turned white. I'd asked him to come back and clean up. If I hadn't…
"It's not your fault, you know," Jesse said in a quiet and kind tone that finally made me see him as a police officer. He might not be the guns blazing kind you see in the movies, but anyone in trouble would be calmed by his reassuring certainty, just like I was now. "You should get out of here, take your grandmother home."
Jesse gave me a soft smile, but as I smiled back, his faded and he leaned over Marc once more.
By the time Susanne and I had gotten Eleanor out the door, Maggie and Bernie were standing down the street exchanging theories about who had a reason to hurt Marc. "Enough of a reason" was how Maggie put it. Carrie was on her cell phone filling someone in on the news. Natalie was gone. None of the other ladies had seen her leave or knew which way she went. Even her mother seemed surprised.
"Let's go home," Eleanor said wearily.
I nodded. "Just what I was thinking."
Eleanor stared out the passenger window most of the ride home, making it clear she didn't feel like chatting. Neither did I exactly, but I did want to know what it was about Marc that made his death seem so inevitable, even to nice women like Bernie. But my curiosity was fighting it out with something else. Maybe it was better not to know, I thought. Marc had been there for me, made me feel less thrown away, less expendable. This afternoon he had even made me feel desirable. Whatever everyone else thought about him, he had been nice to me. Maybe that was all I really wanted to know.
My grandmother's house was dark in the distance as we pulled into the driveway. I would have left on a porch light or something, but Eleanor saw such indulgences as a waste of electricity.
"Nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light," she would tell me when I would leave lamps on. She said it with absolute certainty, but I never quite believed her. The dark, at least to me, was filled with things that dissipate at the flick of a switch.
If a porch light had been on, I would have seen the car parked near the house, but until my headlights hit it, I saw nothing. I parked behind the car and left my grandmother sitting in the passenger seat while I got out to investigate.
"Let me see who it is," I said, but I knew. I knew by the make of the car, by the dark silver paint color, by the scratch near the license plate. That car, or rather its owner, was the last thing either my grandmother or I needed to deal with after the evening we'd had. I looked around, but no one was there.
Eleanor rolled her window down. "What are you doing? Help me out," she demanded.
I walked over to the passenger side, got her crutches out of the backseat and leaned over so she could support herself on me as she got out of the car.
"We really should leave a porch light on," I said more to myself than to Eleanor.
"It's probably a neighbor." She nodded toward the car, but she didn't sound sure and I knew she was wrong.
We walked up the steps to the front door and I struggled with the lock. I wanted to get inside, but for some reason the key wasn't cooperating. I looked down and saw that my hand was shaking. Eleanor saw too. She took the key. In seconds the door was open and she hobbled inside. I was almost in myself when I heard steps behind me.
"Nell," said a soft but familiar voice.
I turned around. Ryan was standing inches away. Suddenly the porch light went on. In the light, I saw the blood on his hands.
CHAPTER 22
"What are you doing here?" I said loudly, surprised by how frightened I felt.
Ryan's voice was shaking. "Is he dead?" he asked.
I almost couldn't answer. "Yes." I finally got the words out. "Yes, he's dead." I stood frozen, not wanting to ask how Ryan knew Marc was dead.
"God," he said. "Oh my God."
Lights were going on all over the downstairs area of the house, flooding the porch. The front door creaked open. Barney came out fast, barking and growling at Ryan. Eleanor stood at the doorway.
"You should come inside. Both of you," she said.
So we did.
Eleanor and I sat at the kitchen table, silent and waiting until Ryan came down from the upstairs bathroom. He had washed the blood off and looked relieved that it was gone. He sat on one side of the table and my grandmother and I sat on the other. Barney stood guard between us. I felt like we were Ryan's jury, waiting for the evidence to convict or exonerate. But in this case, beyond a reasonable doubt wouldn't be enough. I wanted to know beyond all doubt that Ryan had nothing to do with the scene at Someday Quilts.
"I saw you," he said to me. He glanced over at my grandmother as if he were embarrassed to have her in the room. But I wanted her there, and it was clear she wasn't going anywhere no matter what. "I was walking back toward the shop to talk to you, and I saw you and that guy kissing."
Eleanor turned toward me, but since I couldn't bring myself to look her way I had no idea what kind of a look she was giving me.
"I know it's stupid of me to be so jealous," he said.
"You've never been before," I said.
He shrugged. "You've never given me a reason." He sounded tired-more than tired. "I don't know. Lots of things have been going on lately. I came up here to tell you. Then I guess I saw that guy-and you-and I felt like the biggest fool on the planet."