Part 3 (1/2)
I FOUND MEGHAN SITTING on the couch upstairs. She had lifted Brodie onto the cus.h.i.+on next to her and was stroking the corgi's soft ears with one hand while she stared out at the occasional car going by on the street. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, and smoke from the well-seasoned apple wood faintly flavored the air.
”How's Erin?” I asked.
”She's asleep. She'll be okay. Just needs some time.”
”Yeah. Us, too.”
Meghan nodded.
”I was just over at Walter's” Wrapping the colorful paper strips around the bars of soap and affixing each with the appropriate label, I recounted my recent adventure across the alley. When I'd finished, I said, ”I wish I knew what's going on.”
She looked resigned, though to what I didn't know. She smoothed the fur down Brodie's back.
”He had a ton of money and he just gave it away. I don't think he spent any of it on himself. Could have bought himself a new truck, junked that old Scout. He babied that thing along for years,” I said.
”Maybe giving the money away was his way of taking care of things, before he died. People who decide to kill themselves often give away their possessions as they get closer to doing it,” she said.
”He seemed happy enough”
She shrugged. ”I always got the impression Walter was a sad man. He smiled and carried on conversations, but he always seemed to bear an underlying, I don't know... sorrow, is the only word I can think of.”
”Well, maybe you're more sensitive to that kind of thing than I am. I think he went through funks like anyone else. That's not enough to kill yourself over.”
She gave me a look. ”Is this really about Walter?”
”Of course it's about Walter.”
”You told me once you never knew why Bobby Lee killed himself, that you couldn't understand it. And that really bothered you.
I picked at the edge of a label. Pieces of the handmade paper broke off, fluttered to the floor.
”He had a reason, he had to. I was at school, so I wasn't around. We talked on the phone some, but that's not the same thing. Mom and Dad didn't want to talk about what happened, though they seemed as bewildered as everyone else. But he was eighteen, and he'd certainly stopped confiding in my parents by then.”
”Walter had a reason, too,” Meghan said.
”What if he didn't do it?”
”What do you mean? Of course he did it. You saw him.”
”But what if he didn't... kill himself?”
She stared at me. ”You're kidding, right?”
”That peppermint I smelled in his kitchen. I smelled it downstairs today, too. So did you”
”So? Peppermint's in all sorts of things.”
”I've never heard of peppermint-scented lye.”
”Neither have I. But your workroom often smells like peppermint, and what you smelled at Walter's was probably tea or soap or air freshener. It could have been anything.” ”
I don't think so. It was too strong.”
She shook her head, picked up a label and a bar of soap, then threw both of them back in the basket and sat back on the couch with her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. Neither of us said anything for several minutes.
Finally I spoke. ”Even if he did kill himself, I'd like to know why.”
”And you think finding out what made him do it will somehow change the fact that you don't know why your brother killed himself?”
”No-will you drop that? I told you, this has nothing to do with Bobby Lee. But doesn't it bother you that someone swallowed lye-lye, for G.o.d's sake-in our bas.e.m.e.nt? Don't you see how wrong that is? And now someone was in his house tonight. Do you think that was a coincidence? Something was going on with Walter, something pretty major. Something other than a bad case of the blues.”
She turned to face me. ”You were in his house tonight, too. And for a perfectly innocent reason. Whoever else was there could have just as valid an excuse. And even if they didn't, it's a bit of a leap to conclude it had something to do with his death. Don't make this into something it's not.”
”I'm not making it into anything. It's already there. He died in your house. Don't you want to know why?”
She sighed. ”Not the way you do.”
”He tried to stop it, at the end. After it was too late.”
”What?”
”The front of his s.h.i.+rt was all wet, and his cuffs. He'd tried to splash water in his mouth, drink it from his hands. That's why he died right in front of the sink.”
She looked horrified. Swallowed audibly. ”Maybe... maybe he didn't know it would hurt so much.”
”I just...”
”I know.”
”It's not about Bobby Lee.”
”Okay.”
We sat in silence, the scent of lavender doing nothing to smooth my nerves, the crackle of the fire offsetting the faint sound of the wind outside.
Meghan gathered Brodie into her arms and rose. ”I'm going on up to bed.”