THE KNOCK ON THE DOOR came during dinner. Gabriel was wearing more spaghetti than he was eating, and Eve was trying to salvage his favourite dinosaur T-shirt by scrubbing it in the kitchen sink.
“I’ll get it.” Button slid out from behind the table.
“Why don’t we ever remember to take off your shirt before we eat spaghetti?” Eve blew her hair out of her eyes in frustration, and then turned back to scrubbing.
“Show me how to twirl the noodles again?” Gabriel asked.
“Gabe, I’m trying to save a brontosaurus over here.”
“Eve?” Button returned to the kitchen with Detective Baird on her heels. She clutched the collar of her bathrobe in both hands.
“Mrs. Adler.” The detective looked dour.
Eve dropped Gabriel’s shirt in the sink. “Did you find him? Is he okay?”
Detective Baird gave a pointed look at her son.
“Gabe, go wash your hands and face in the bathroom.”
Wide-eyed, Gabriel slid off the bench seat and left the room, walking backward so he could keep an eye on the detective for as long as possible.
“Okay,” she said once her son was gone. “What’s going on? Have you found him?”
“Yes, we have,” Detective Baird said, and then quickly added, “and he’s alive.”
“Baruch Hashem.” Button plopped onto the seat as though her legs had given way.
“Is he okay? Was he in an accident or something?”
“He seems to be fine,” Detective Baird said.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for finding him.”
“Well, I can’t say we had much to do with it, in the end,” he said. “And I doubt you’ll be thanking me in a minute.”
“Why is that?”
“He walked into the station this morning and asked for a deal.”
“What?”
“What does that mean?” Button asked.
“It means he’s willing to testify against your granddaughter for a lessening of his own sentence.”
Button understandably looked flabbergasted. “What? What sentence? What have they done wrong?”
“He’s willing to implicate you in all three, Mrs. Adler.”
“In all three what?” Button asked.
“I need to bring you into the station. I’m willing to do it without the cuffs, for the sake of your family, if you agree to come peacefully.”
Eve blinked at him. “You’re arresting me?”
“You’ve filed charges against me?”
“Charges!” Button said. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s okay, Button. It’s just a mistake.” Her voice sounded hollow and she doubted her words were any reassurance to her grandmother.
“I’m afraid it’s not a mistake,” Detective Baird said.
“And yes, charges have been filed against you in two of the deaths, so far.”
“Deaths!” Button said. “Whose deaths?”
“Mrs. Adler, I’d like you to come with me peacefully. But I do have officers waiting outside.”
“No,” she said faintly. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good.”
“Wait a minute! Just wait one darn minute. Could someone please explain what in the world is going on?” Button said.
She turned to her grandmother, trying to think of what to say to protect her. But she had no lies left to tell, and truthful words had failed her long ago. Button was wild-eyed, pale, and trembling from head to toe.
Detective Baird said, “Leigh is pleading down on two counts of statutory rape —”
“Rape!”
“In exchange for testifying against your granddaughter in the deaths of Thomas Mahoney, Sara Adler, and Donna Gold.”
Button’s eyes bugged out, and her skin turned an alarming shade of purple. “Es vert mir finster in di oygn.”
“Button!” She grabbed her grandmother’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Button wheezed, clinging to her like a drowning woman.
“Take some deep breaths.” Eve went eye-to-eye with her grandmother, willing her to get through this moment. “It’s going to be okay. I promise, I promise, I promise. It’s going to be okay. Just breathe for me. Just breathe.”
“The maple syrup.”
“Don’t try to talk. Just take some deep breaths, okay?”
Button managed a gasping, shaky breath.
“That’s good. Just keep breathing. I need you to keep breathing.”
“Mrs. Adler,” Detective Baird said.
“Just give me a minute!”
“Would you like me to call an ambulance?” Baird asked.
“No,” Button said weakly.
“Are you sure?” Eve asked. “Maybe —”
“No,” Button said with more strength. “No ambulance.” She took several deep breaths, and the colour in her cheeks dimmed to a less alarming shade.
The women clutched each other’s hands, their fear travelling on electrical currents between them.
“Grandma, I promise …”
She wanted to tell Button that it would be okay, that she had nothing to do with their deaths, that it was just a mix-up — anything to make her grandmother feel better. But she couldn’t form the words.
“You go and sort this out,” Button said. “I’ll take care of Gabriel until you get home.”
Eve kissed her grandmother’s cheek and followed Detective Baird out of the house. Three officers waited for them, and Baird said gruffly, “No cuffs.” He led her to the cruiser parked at the curb and opened the rear door for her.
“Mommy!” Gabriel sprinted barefoot from the house and across the damp grass.
Detective Baird nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Gabe.” She caught him and lifted him into her arms.
“Where are you going, Mommy? Are they bringing you to see Daddy?”
“Kind of. Can you stay with Button while I get some stuff sorted out?”
“When will you come home?”
“I’m not quite sure.” She buried her nose in his hair and breathed deeply. His head smelled like tomato sauce and baby shampoo.
“Will you read me a story tonight?”
Her tears disappeared into his mop of curls. “I think Button will have to.”
“Mommy, you’re not going to that garden I drawed you yet, are you?”
“No, buddy.”
“That’s good, ’cause I’m not ready.”
“Me, neither.”
And then Button carried Gabriel back to the house, and Detective Baird guided her into the backseat of the cruiser and closed the door, and she sobbed into the palms of her hands.
As they pulled away, she saw Gabriel standing in the living-room window, waving and blowing kisses. She placed a hand on the car window and imagined she touched her son’s round cheek instead of the cold glass. She wondered if she’d ever touch him again.