Part 8 (1/2)

Nelson fumbled for a hanky in his pants pocket and handed it to his wife. ”She's never going to own up to it, Edith. She thinks because she was a kid when she did it that n.o.body's going to hold her accountable. We'll just see about that.”

”What do you mean?” Tess asked him in a quivering voice. ”Is that a threat?”

”You'll just have to wait and see, won't you,” Nelson sneered.

Tess thought of the voice on the phone, whispering ”liar” into her ear. She wondered, for a brief second, if it had been Nelson Abbott, trying to intimidate her. She drew herself up. ”I have to go,” she said. ”And take my son home.”

”My son will never come home,” said Edith indignantly.

Tess slid back behind the wheel and slammed the door. She did not look at Nelson or his wife as she pulled out.

Erny hunched his shoulders up around his ears. ”What's the matter with that dude?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Tess shook her head, not trusting her voice to answer. She clamped her hands on the wheel and drove, although her arms were trembling and her insides were jumping. Erny was quiet beside her, looking at her warily out of the corner of his eye.

When they reached the inn, Tess pulled up to the front door. ”Go inside.”

”What about you?” he asked.

The lounging reporters were stirring, suddenly aware that the newcomers were prey. They began to surge forward. ”It's okay. I'll park the car and come right in.”

Erny jumped out of the car, ran to the front door of the inn, and started to open it. Tess tried to keep her face impa.s.sive and not look into the eyes of any of the newspeople who were surrounding her car. All of a sudden, just as Erny was slipping through the front door, out of the corner of her eye, Tess saw something fly through the air, hit the front door with a thud, and tumble to the welcome mat at Erny's feet.

Erny turned around, startled, and then looked down at the missile. He bent over and picked it up.

Tess opened the car door and jumped out. ”Erny, what is that? Are you okay?” She shoved aside the people in her way and rushed up to her son.

Erny examined the granite chunk in his hand. ”It's a rock,” he said, bewildered.

Tess turned and looked around slowly at the faces in the crowd. Some of them showed consternation, others were impa.s.sive. Tess took the rock from her son's hands.

”Who did this?” she said, holding up the rock. ”Who threw this stone? Are you crazy? You could have killed an innocent kid.”

The crowd was quiet. Tess searched their eyes boldly, looking for a furtive glance, for someone who looked guilty in a sea of defiant or indifferent faces.

Hidden in the back of the crowd, a hollow-cheeked man in a gray parka quickly ducked his head so as not to allow her to catch his eye. Tess did not notice this as her blazing gaze swept over the a.s.semblage. For a moment there was no reply and then a voice drawled, ”Hey, Tess, how's the view from that gla.s.s house you're living in?”

”What does that mean?” Erny asked.

Tess reddened. ”Nothing. He's a jerk,” she said. ”Ignore them. Let's go in.”

CHAPTER 9.

”Tess, pay attention, honey,” said Dawn. ”This is their driveway.”

Startled, Tess made a sharp right turn into the long driveway that led to Jake and Julie's house. It was six o'clock and darkness had already descended on Stone Hill and its outskirts. Julie had called to invite them to their house for dinner and Tess had gratefully accepted. She wanted to get away from the inn and the reporters who were still camped there. Tess had been unprepared for the level of hostility she would encounter after the DNA results. For years everyone in Stone Hill outspokenly agreed that justice had been done. Now the DeGraffs' suffering seemed to be forgotten, as people hurried to disa.s.sociate themselves from the injustice to Lazarus Abbott. It was almost as if the whole town blamed Tess for this blot on its reputation.

Tess drove slowly, gravel crunching under her tires, up the winding drive between a bank of trees. The house, secluded from view by the trees, sat on a slight rise, surrounded by a lawn now brown from the early frosts. It was a small house with yellow clapboard siding, dark green shutters, and a metal chimney for their gas fireplace. Jake's white van, ladders fastened to the top, was parked next to Julie's neat little compact. On the lawn was a cement statue of a wood nymph holding a lantern, which illuminated the path to the front door.

Tess, Dawn, and Erny piled out of the car and Erny ran to the door, opened it without knocking, and charged inside. Tess and Dawn followed at a slower pace. They walked in and were greeted by rich aromas from the kitchen warring with the sweet, cloying fragrance of potpourri. Erny flopped down on the plump, flowered sofa, a pink knitted afghan draped behind him. One of Julie's four cats jumped up on his lap. The beige walls of the living room were covered with framed prayers bordered by pastel drawings of children and doilylike crosses embroidered with flowers and leaves. There were a number of framed photographs atop the television, including a wedding photo of Julie and Jake, Julie looking blonde and doll-like in her cinch-waisted wedding gown. There were several of Kelli at various milestones in her life-in mortarboard and gown, in a prom dress, and in an army uniform. Erny smiled broadly from an eight-by-twelve print of his school photo with its royal blue background, framed in silverplate. Over the mantel of the gas fireplace was a copy of a Thomas Kincade painting of a Cotswolds cottage amidst a bower of roses. Julie came out of the kitchen and greeted them, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

”Oh, I can hear Sa.s.sy purring from here,” she said. ”That cat likes you, Erny.”

Erny smiled. ”I know.”

”How's your cat?” Julie asked him.

”Good,” he said, nodding. ”My friend Jonah is taking care of him.”

Julie smiled at him. ”Well, I'm sure he'll miss you while you're gone.”

Erny shrugged. ”Can I watch TV?”

”Go ahead if you want,” Julie said.

Erny, still clutching the uncomplaining, seemingly boneless cat, leaned over eagerly to get the remote from the coffee table and turned on the set. Tess thought to protest, but then decided against it. At home, she limited his TV viewing, but during these visits to New Hamps.h.i.+re there were no children Erny's age around, and he ended up watching more television than normal. There's no harm in it, Tess reminded herself; he also did a lot more bike riding and exploring than he did at home.

”You two come in and talk to me while I cook,” Julie said. ”Jake's taking a shower.”

Tess followed her mother through the tiny dining area and into the warm kitchen. ”It smells great,” she said.

”Chicken pot pie,” said Julie.

”You make the best chicken pot pie,” said Dawn.

Julie turned to Tess. ”What kind of mother-in-law actually likes your cooking?” she asked incredulously.

Tess smiled.

”So, I hear you've had a rough day,” Julie said as she pulled rolls from the oven to check them and then slid them back in.

Tess sighed. ”Well, I feel like public enemy number one. We've had anonymous phone threats and somebody threw a rock at us when we came back to the inn this afternoon. It nearly hit Erny in the head.”

Julie straightened up, hands on her ample hips. ”You're joking. How could they?”

”It was no joke,” Tess a.s.sured her.

Julie shook her head. ”Everybody in town is so busy being outraged about the test results. They don't seem to remember what a creep Lazarus really was.”

”He was, wasn't he?” Tess said, craving a little rea.s.surance.

Julie nodded. ”Oh, completely. The boys used to trail after him and try to provoke him but we girls just avoided him. I think the only job he ever had was working for Nelson. You know, his stepfather. n.o.body else would have him. Nelson worked as the caretaker at the Whitman farm and Lazarus used to help him out. Although I don't think he was much good at it because Nelson was always mad at him.”

Julie frowned, recalling events from long ago.

”He came to my father's garage sometimes. Nelson had a beat-up old truck he used for work and Lazarus used to bring it in for repairs and service. I remember that truck because Lazarus used to drive it up on Lookout Ridge where we kids all went parking. He'd drive up there by himself with the headlights turned off and stare and, you know...do other things.” Julie shuddered, unwilling to name his onanistic acts. ”He didn't have a friend in the world.”