Part 18 (2/2)

You traitor, Tess thought. How could you?

Protesting loudly, Jake was hustled by a wave of blue uniforms out past the edge of the crowd. Tess turned and started to follow them.

Chan caught Tess by the sleeve. ”Wait a minute. What is your brother talking about? What does he know about those DNA results?”

Tess raised her hands as if to ward off his questions. ”I can't tell you anything,” she said. ”Really. I don't know anything about it. I have to go.”

Chan brushed aside her protests of ignorance. ”So the cops are saying that Nelson Abbott's DNA matched the results from...the old evidence.”

Tess shook her head. ”I told you, I don't know.”

Chan shook his head. ”I don't get it.”

”What don't you get?” Tess demanded impatiently. ”If he's the one who raped and killed my sister, then naturally his results would match the DNA on the evidence.”

Chan put a hand to his forehead, as if the effort of thinking were painful. ”But he always said that Lazarus was guilty. He told anybody who would listen...”

”Apparently, it was a lot easier for Nelson to let Lazarus be put to death than to face his own execution.”

Chan peered at her. ”It was you who said that Lazarus took your sister. How could you have made a mistake like that? Those two don't look at all alike.”

”I didn't make a mistake,” she said angrily. ”Don't you see? They did it together.”

Chan looked startled. ”Together?”

Instantly Tess realized that she had said too much. The publisher was staring at her as if she had suddenly started speaking Mandarin. ”I don't know. I don't know any more than you do,” she insisted as she turned away from him. But she could see from the triumphant look dawning on his face that her protestations were too feeble, and too late.

CHAPTER 19.

From all her mother's years in residence at the Stone Hill Inn, Tess knew that there was a path that could be entered on foot half a mile down the road and led in a meandering route to the back door of the inn. She also knew that the reporters, frustrated by their lack of a story and t.i.tillated by Jake's outburst, would soon be congregating again in front of the inn. She decided to take the path.

She came out of the field at the back door, went in through the mudroom, and walked into the kitchen. A shrieking whistle filled the room and a gaunt-faced man in a gray parka was standing by the sink. He turned on her as she entered the room.

Tess cried out. It was the man whom she had seen in the field, looking in at her that first morning. The cigarette smoker, from the car, last night.

He raised his pale fingers. ”Whoa, Tess,” he said. ”Take it easy.”

”Who the h.e.l.l are you?” she demanded. ”What are you doing here?”

Dawn came into the kitchen from the laundry room carrying a pile of dish towels. ”Tess, what's wrong? Didn't you hear the kettle?”

Tess could see instantly that her mother was not surprised to find the man in the kitchen. ”Who is this, Mother?” she demanded. ”What's he doing here?”

Dawn looked embarra.s.sed by her daughter's reaction. ”Don't you remember Mr. Phalen? Kenneth Phalen?”

Tess stared at the man's sunken eyes, his short, salt-and-pepper hair, and gray face that matched the color of his parka. She thought of the picture in the paper, the one on which she had drawn the gla.s.ses. Kenneth Phalen.

”Mr. Phalen?”

”Call me Ken,” he said with half a smile. ”We're all grown-ups now.”

Tess looked at him warily. ”I've seen you. Hanging around here,” she said.

Dawn set the towels down and turned off the flame under the kettle. ”We're just about to have a cup of tea. Do you want to join us?” Dawn was pouring the boiling water into a pair of mugs on the counter.

Tess shook her head.

Ken took off his coat and draped it carefully on the back of a counter stool. Dawn pointed to the breakfast nook. ”Sit down, Ken,” she said.

Kenneth edged past Tess and onto one of the benches in the nook. ”'Scuse me,” he said. Dawn came over and set down the mugs. She slid into the bench on the other side of the table, sliding toward the window so that there was room on her bench. ”Sit down, Tess,” said Dawn. ”Tell me what happened.”

Tess looked at her blankly.

”With Nelson,” her mother reminded her.

”Nothing happened,” said Tess. She did not sit. ”There's nothing new. The police are questioning...their suspect. Jake came and...got a little out of control.”

Dawn shook her head. ”Oh no.”

”You can't blame the boy,” said Ken Phalen.

Tess looked at Ken in surprise. ”Boy?” she said.

”I guess that's how I remember your brother,” said Ken.

Tess peered at Phalen. ”You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

”Tess,” Dawn reproved her.

Ken stirred the coffee in his mug and then set down the spoon on a napkin. ”Well, I ran into your mother last night at the Friends meeting...”

”Although I have to admit I didn't recognize him,” said Dawn.

”I haven't weathered too well,” said Ken.

The Compa.s.sionate Friends. Of course, Tess thought. She felt a moment of guilt as she realized that Ken and her mother did have that unbearable loss in common. But the guilt quickly pa.s.sed. ”I meant, why are you here in town?” she demanded. ”It seems kind of a coincidence...” she said. ”Now, when all this is coming out about Phoebe's murder.”

Ken shook his head. ”It's no coincidence. I was having lunch with one of the editors I work for. He tries to throw as much work my way as he can. We were tossing around ideas and he mentioned this case-the DNA and death penalty thing. I told him about my personal involvement and he got very excited. He thought I should come up and try to get an article out of it.”

”Mr. Phalen's a writer,” said Dawn.

”I never did finish that novel I was working on when I met you,” Ken demurred. ”But I do a lot of magazine work. My editor thought I might have an interesting angle on the whole thing. After all, we were here when Phoebe...when the crime happened. Your family stayed here during the trial.”

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