* * *
Arthur stopped talking.
“That’s it?” Kate said. “But what happened?” She looked at Jack and Sara. “Oh.” She turned back to Arthur. “You never saw them again?”
Arthur looked out the window. “Only once. I knew it was Cheryl’s birthday and I took the keys to the car I’d bought her to their house. It was late because I’d had the car cleaned and detailed. I wanted the girl to have something nice because of what was coming to her.”
He looked down at his hands, then up again. “You know how sometimes you can just feel an atmosphere? Like going into a haunted house and you don’t see anything but you can feel that there is something else there?”
The three of them nodded in unison but said nothing.
“That’s how it was that day. I parked a few houses away. It was harder for me physically, but I was afraid of facing Verna. Afraid of what I was going to find at their house. If Cheryl had told her mother...” He paused. “It was worse than I ever imagined. I swear I could feel the misery inside that house as soon as I reached the driveway. Verna’s old car was gone and there was a big black van parked there. The back doors were open and I could see that it was already packed with household goods.”
He looked at Sara. “I’m ashamed to say that all I thought of was myself. They were leaving me. That’s how I saw it. I felt no compassion for what they must be going through to make them pack up and leave. All I felt was anger that I was going to be utterly and absolutely alone.” He grimaced. “And how was I going to keep up my image of being a stud? Of making people believe that I was still sexually active? Me. That’s all I thought about. I put the car keys in my pocket and left.”
“And that night someone killed them,” Sara whispered.
Arthur’s head was bent forward and they could see that he was softly crying. Kate looked at the others and they nodded. It was time to go. Jack picked up the manuscript, then quietly, they left Mr. Niederman’s house. Outside, the air seemed fresh and clean.
They got into the truck and Jack drove them to where the MINI Cooper was parked beside the road. “I’ll meet you back at the house,” Jack said.
Kate nodded, then she and Sara got into the car.
EIGHTEEN
On the way home, they didn’t talk about what they’d heard. The day had been too long and too full of drama for them to fully digest it all. When they got back, Sara disappeared into her writing room “to make some notes.”
Kate and Jack went to the kitchen. She put away the contents of the grocery bags they’d left behind when they’d run out the door. Jack began slicing peppers and onions for the grill.
“I’ll get a couple of the men to take the MINI to the body shop tomorrow,” he said.
Kate nodded but didn’t speak.
“Ac
tually, I need to buy a new truck. Maybe we can all go to the Chevy dealer and pick out one. You and Sara can choose the color.”
Again Kate nodded. She was standing beside Jack and peeling an onion for him to slice. The fumes were bothering her eyes.
He wasn’t fooled. He set down the knife and put his arms around her. Her arms were hanging flat against her sides.
The tears came hard, wetting his T-shirt. “A baby,” she whispered. “Three of them died, not two. They...”
Jack was stroking her hair. “I know. She was such a nice girl and she must have been in love and...” He was too choked up to speak.
Kate kept crying. All she could think about was what Arthur had told them.
Cheryl was going to have a baby and she thought she was going to be married and get a good job at a TV station and live happily ever after. “But her life was taken away from her,” Kate said.
“And her mother’s.”
“And the baby’s.” Kate’s tears strengthened and she clasped Jack about the waist.
“Now he’d be—” Jack broke off when the doorbell rang. “Ignore it,” he muttered and clasped Kate tighter.
She pulled away and wiped her eyes. “It might be important.”
With a grimace, he headed to the front door, Kate a step behind him. He looked out the glass panel, then turned to her in anger. “It’s him.”