1
Nicole had hoped to get home a bit early and do a little scrubbing on that blood in the hall before picking up Shelley, but the news about Jesse couldn’t wait. She drove directly to the school and went to Shelley’s classroom. When she looked through the narrow window in the classroom door and saw Shelley’s head drooping, her eyes full of sadness and worry, she knew she couldn’t wait another thirty-five minutes until class ended. She opened the door and told the teacher Shelley must come with her now. Apparently the teacher had read about the murders because her eyes became large and she said simply, “Of course. Shelley, go along with your mother immediately.”
Shelley, too, looked frightened until they got outside the door. “Mommy, what is it?” she said, her voice quavering. “Did the dead man call again? Did someone else get murdered?”
“No one got murdered, and I’ve told you no dead man called. This is good news.” She smiled broadly. “I know where Jesse is.”
Shelley’s mouth dropped. “Really and truly?” Nicole nodded. “He’s all right?”
“He’s fine. He just wants to come home. I’m sorry to pull you out of class, but—”
“Come on!” Shelley called joyfully, running down the hall. “We’ve got to get him!”
When they arrived at Dr. Linden’s office, the waiting room was crowded. Shelley marched up to the desk and said, “We’re here for Jesse Chandler.”
Mindy, pert, pretty, and not over twenty-one, smiled at her. “Are you Jesse’s mommy?”
“Yes, I am. Has he been asking for me?”
“Constantly,” Mindy said with a straight face. “Do you have a leash?”
Shelley held up the leash they always kept in the car. Mindy took the leash and in a few moments returned with Jesse. He promptly pulled from her grip and ran to Shelley, yipping until Nicole thought her eardrums would burst.
A few moments later an older, graying man in a white lab coat walked out. “What’s all the commotion?” he asked.
“Jesse is a little carried away with himself,” Mindy told him.
The veterinarian smiled at Shelley. “Looks like he’s glad to see you.”
Shelley beamed. “Why don’t you take him out to the car, honey?” Nicole said loudly over Jesse’s barking. “I’ll settle the bill.”
Immediately after Shelley had dragged Jesse, still yapping shrilly, out the door, the doctor asked, “Mrs. Chandler, did Jesse escape or do you let him run loose?”
“I never let him run loose. My house was broken into the other night while I was out. Whoever did it let Jesse out.”
“I see.” She noticed the doctor frowning slightly. Then his eyes met hers, and she knew he’d finally connected the name Chandler with the murders. No wonder. The story, along with her picture, had been splashed all over the news. “Do you know how Jesse was found?”
Nicole shook her head. “I didn’t even know he was here until Mindy called my office about an hour ago.”
“It seems he’d gotten his collar caught on a fence he was trying to slide under. He was frantic and desperately thirsty when he was brought in, and he had a nasty scratch on his side, but otherwise he was unhurt. If he hadn’t been found for a couple of days, though, he would have died of thirst or strangulation.”
“Oh, thank goodness he was found.”
“Mr. Gershwin seemed awfully worried about him,” Mindy chimed in.
“Can you tell me what this man looked like?”
“Mr. Gershwin?” Mindy asked. Every time she said the name, Nicole wanted to scream. Obviously Mindy had no knowledge of classical music. She might as well have been saying Smith or Jones. “He was very handsome. Tall, dark-haired. Long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Beautiful hazel eyes.” Mindy had a dreamy look on her face. She’d clearly been quite taken with “Mr. George Gershwin.” “Don’t you know him? He said he was a friend.”
“I’m not sure,” Nicole said vaguely.
“Well, he seemed to know you. Even your department at the university, although I had to get your office number from a secretary. He was very emphatic about me calling you at a specific time. He said you would be out of class then.”
“Oh,” Nicole said weakly, thinking how well he knew her schedule. “Well, I’m certainly lucky that someone found Jesse. He means the world to my daughter. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” Dr. Linden said. “Mr. Gershwin paid the bill ahead of time.” Although Mindy didn’t recognize the name, the veterinarian did. “In fact, he has change coming since we didn’t have to do any major repair work on Jesse. Of course there’s that leg. It should have been set right after it was broken.”
“He was a stray,” Nicole explained. “When I found him, it had been broken for a few days and was already healing. The veterinarian back in Ohio said it was best left alone.”
“I disagree, although he seems to get around just fine.”
Mindy handed Nicole a fifty-dollar bill. “This is Mr. Gershwin’s change.” She smiled brilliantly. “And please tell him that if he has any pets, we’d be happy to have them as patients anytime, wouldn’t we, Doctor?”
“I should say so.” He winked at Nicole. “Good-bye, Mrs. Chandler. I’m glad everything worked out so well for Jesse. And please say hello to Mr. Gershwin. I admire his music tremendously.”
“Does he play in a band?” Mindy asked the veterinarian as Nicole walked from the office, smiling.
2
When they got home, Jesse jumped out of the car happily, dragging his young mistress behind him. Nicole was glad to see that all the yellow crime-scene tape had been taken down, although she noticed another patrol car was posted outside. Please let this young man have better luck than the last one, she thought.
Shelley asked, “Mommy, will Jesse have to stay in all night?”
“No. No damage was done to the gate and we can get a new padlock tomorrow. Let’s let him out to check on all his buried treasures, although I’m pretty sure they’re safe.”
“Great!”
Before Nicole put her key in the front-door lock, she said, “Shelley, I’m afraid the inside of the house is pretty much of a mess.”
“That’s okay,” Shelley said brightly. “I’ve seen it messy before.”
“It’s not just messy, honey. One of the men got hurt in here. There’s blood on the carpet.”
Shelley’s smile faded. “A lot of blood?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Shelley was quiet for a moment while Nicole watched her silently bracing herself. “Well, I guess it’ll have to be okay,” she said finally. “I’m not scared.”
But when Nicole swung open the door, she saw an immaculate living room and a pristine carpet, although a new cream, peach, and blue scatter rug lay in the hall.
“I know the police didn’t leave the place like this,” she said in awe.
At that moment, a truck pulled up in front of the house. A young man emerged and walked toward her, glancing at a piece of paper. “Are you Mrs. Chandler?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively over Jesse’s barking.
“I’m here to install your new locks. Front, side, back doors, and a padlock for the gate.”
“I didn’t order new locks.”
The young man looked at his work order again. “A Sergeant Raymond DeSoto did, ma’am. He said you might want to check things out.” He handed her the work order. “His phone number’s on there. I’ll wait outside.” He looked down at Jesse. “Hey there, little poochie.”
Jesse let out a tremendous bark and sneezed all over the young man’s shoes. “Sorry,” Shelley said. “He doesn’t like to be called ‘poochie.’ ”
The young man laughed, ignoring his messy footwear. “No sweat. I don’t blame him. So what do you like? Duke? King? Killer?”
The young man was still joking with Shelley and Jesse as Nicole went inside and dialed what she assumed was Ray’s home phone number. When he answered, she asked without preamble, “Are you all right? Sergeant Waters told me you were hurt.”
“Well, hello, Mrs. Chandler, lovely to talk with you, too. I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’m sorry to be so abrupt,” Nicole said. “I’ve been worried. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later. Is the guy with the locks there?”
“Yes. I assume you did order them?”
“Yes. Isn’t that all right?”
“It’s wonderful. I’ve been so busy today I forgot.”
“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous, but I wanted the locks changed before you spent a night in that house.”
“Thank you, Ray,” she said warmly. “I don’t suppose I also have you to thank for my spotless house, too.”
“Yes, indeed. I spent the whole day on my hands and knees, scrubbing and polishing.”
“Ray, you didn’t!”
He laughed. “No. I’m afraid I’m not up to that. I called a cleaning service. I hope they did a good job.”
“Ray, that was so thoughtful! And they did an excellent job. The place has never looked this good. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Ray paused. “When this is all over, you can go on a real date with me.”
Nicole suddenly felt sixteen and tongue-tied, but in a pleasant way. “I think I could manage that,” she said, wishing she’d come up with something more graceful. “You’re taking good care of us, Ray.”
“I must warn you, my motives aren’t entirely altruistic.”
She smiled. “Good. By the way, I have another piece of good news—Jesse has been found.”
“No kidding! Where was he?”
“At a veterinarian’s. When he was found, his collar was caught on a fence.” She took a deep breath. “Ray, the man who brought him in called himself George Gershwin.”
“Oh, no,” Ray moaned.
“Yes. The receptionist wasn’t familiar with the name, but she described him. It was Paul. And there’s something else. Jordan was at the motel room last night.”
“Jordan?”
“The Doberman.”
“Oh, right, I forgot the dog’s name. I saw her outside your motel room. Rather, I saw a dog, just sitting there. I thought it was a person at first. That’s what made me get out of my car.”
“And that’s when you were struck.”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” She hesitated. “You might as well know the dog spent the night with Shelley and me.”
“What!”
“Yes. I got a call—”
“Waters already told me about it.”
“So, after the call there was a scratching at the door. Shelley thought it was Jesse. She had the door open before I could stop her. It was Jordan.”
“And Dominic?”
“There was no sign of him. Just the dog. It was as if she’d been sent there to guard us.”
“Dominic is the one who hit me on the head when I got out of the car.”
Nicole hesitated. “Are you sure? Did you see him?”
“No. But who else would it have been?”
“Maybe the man who called me pretending to be Magaro.”
“You don’t think that was Dominic?”
Nicole sighed. “I don’t want to believe it was Paul.”
“After all that’s happened? I know he was there last night, Nicole. His dog was, and I have a feeling those two are inseparable.”
Nicole caught herself doodling outlines of dogs on a notepad and stopped herself. “I know it should make sense, but it just doesn’t. Especially now.”
“Especially now?”
“He found Jesse and took him to a veterinarian, Ray. He made sure the dog was treated and Shelley got him back. She’s overjoyed.”
“Are you sure the person who took Jesse to the vet was Dominic? Couldn’t it have been that Perez guy?”
“I don’t think so. Dr. Linden’s receptionist said he had hazel eyes. Miguel’s are brown.”
“Hazel, brown, they’re so close. Nicole, do you know how notoriously bad eyewitnesses are at describing what they’ve just seen?”
“Yes, but I believe Mindy was describing Paul,” she maintained stubbornly. She paused. “Ray, I just can’t believe a man who would go to so much trouble to save my little girl’s dog would call me and pretend to be Luis Magaro, a man who’s lived in my nightmares for years.”
A short silence followed. “Nicole, did you ever describe Magaro to Dominic? I mean his voice, the words he used that night?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought. Who else knows?”
She thought. “Roger. And Carmen. And if Carmen knows, so does Bobby.”
“Roger is a possibility, but my money’s on Dominic. And I’m not sure it was Dominic who took Jesse to the vet. You are. Let’s say you’re right. So what? Dominic is unbalanced. He’s a killer.”
“He didn’t kill you.”
“Do you think your husband killed Izzy Dooley?”
“Of course not. I don’t believe he paid Izzy to kill me, either.”
“Then who did? Miguel Perez?”
She began doodling again. “That’s almost as hard to imagine.”
“Maybe your neighbor, Newton Wingate.”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t funny.”
“You’re damned right it isn’t funny. You’re getting all soft because you think Paul Dominic found Jesse and took him to the vet. You’re pointing out that if he attacked me in the parking lot last night, he didn’t kill me. Wonderful. But think about this. If he killed Izzy Dooley, and he is the most likely suspect, he also killed that innocent young patrolman, Nicole—put a gun to his head and shot him in cold blood, just to protect his identity. That is what makes Dominic so damned dangerous. He’s a murderer and he’s totally unpredictable.”
3
They had unpacked their clothes, the new locks were installed, including the new fence padlock, and Jesse had checked all his buried treasures when a car tore into the driveway, brakes screaming as it halted two inches from the garage door. Roger emerged from the Ford Explorer, but before he could reach the front door, Nicole ran outside to meet him.
“What the hell is this?” he said through clenched teeth. “Two men are murdered in my home and I have to hear it on the news?”
“This isn’t your home anymore,” Nicole said lamely.
“Oh, that makes a big difference. In God’s name, why didn’t you call me and tell me what happened? I must have called here a hundred times last night.”
“You’re right, Roger, that was an awful oversight. It just all happened so fast.” Nicole was genuinely contrite that he’d been worried, but she knew last night would have been even worse if he’d known. “I apologize.”
“Where were you?”
“A motel.”
“Oh, great,” Roger said scathingly, making a motel sound as bad as a brothel. “Is Shelley all right?”
“Of course. She wasn’t even here when the murders happened.”
“Oh, well, what was I even worried about?” He glared at her. “I want her.”
He began striding toward the front door, but Nicole stepped in front of him. “You aren’t taking her anywhere.”
Roger put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her aside when the patrolman jumped out of the car and strode toward them. “Take your hands off her.”
Roger whirled on him. “And who are you?”
“Who does it look like?” the young man replied harshly. “I’m a policeman.”
Nicole could smell the liquor on Roger’s breath and see people creeping out of their houses to watch. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m Roger Chandler. This is my house and my wife.”
“Sir, I’m not going to tell you again.”
Roger shoved Nicole out of his way before he took a step forward. Immediately the patrolman’s hand clapped on Roger’s shoulder. “Stop!”
“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘freeze’?”
The patrolman’s lips pressed together. “This isn’t a game. I said for you to stop and I meant it.”
Roger spun, swung at the officer, who deftly darted out of his way, and continued the spin until his fist connected with Nicole’s jaw. She staggered and heard Shelley scream from inside.
Roger looked horrified. “Nicole, I’m sorry—”
“That does it,” the patrolman said harshly. In a moment Roger’s hands were trapped behind his back in handcuffs.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the officer asked.
Nicole’s hand went to her jaw. It had been a glancing blow, surprising more than hurting her, but she backed away from Roger. Shelley ran from the house. “Daddy, how could you?” she cried. “You hit Mommy!”
“I didn’t mean to,” Roger said in a shaky voice. “I only came to get you.”
Shelley grabbed Nicole’s hand. “I’ll never go anywhere with you again!”
“Shelley,” Roger continued raggedly. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I am. I want to be with Mommy, not you.”
“Dammit, Shelley, don’t look at me that way!” Roger blasted.
Shelley’s grip on Nicole’s hand grew so tight it hurt, but Nicole said nothing. The child was terrified.
“Shut up,” the patrolman said. “Roger Chandler, you are under arrest—”
Roger looked flabbergasted. “Arrest? For what?”
“For resisting a police officer, for one. For two, assault and battery on your wife.”
“Assault and battery?” Roger echoed.
“Yeah. That’s what it’s called when you violently attack someone.” He looked at Nicole. “You will press charges, won’t you?”
“Assault and battery?” Roger croaked again. “That’s absurd!”
The cop looked into his eyes. “There are about five witnesses in this neighborhood who don’t think it’s absurd, and one of them is a cop. Me.”
“Are you really going to charge him with assault and battery on his wife?” Nicole asked.
The patrolman looked astounded. “You don’t want me to?”
“Nicole?” Roger pleaded.
She stared at him for a few moments, the bloodshot eyes, the hands opening and closing into fists. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I want to press charges.”
“Roger Chandler,” the policeman began again, “you are under arrest…” The patrolman finished reading Roger his Miranda rights and left with the eminent professor in handcuffs. Nicole sagged into the house and flopped down on the couch. Shelley cuddled against her.
“Mommy, does it hurt?” Shelley asked, looking at her jaw.
“Not much.”
Shelley was quiet for a few moments, men she ventured, “What’s wrong with Daddy? Does he act this way because of Lisa?”
Nicole shook her head. “No, baby, I don’t think so. I did at first, but not anymore, and it’s not fair to blame her. I think he’s sick.”
“You mean he’s crazy?”
“No,” Nicole said emphatically. “I think he just got a little mixed-up from so many pressures over the years. His parents pushed him so hard to succeed. Then he worked extra hard in school and got his Ph.D. with honors. Finally he married me and we had you. He took such good care of us, Shelley, only I’m afraid I was a little too much for him.”
Shelley’s face puckered. “What do you mean?”
“I had problems because of things that happened to me when I was a teenager.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Things I’ll tell you about when you’re older.”
“I’d understand.”
“I’m sure you would,” Nicole said gravely, “but I’m just too tired to go into all of that now. Anyway, my point is that I don’t want you to blame Daddy for what’s going on. He’s not himself.”
“Who is he? Freddie Krueger?”
Nicole laughed in spite of the situation. “You’re not supposed to watch the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.”
“I’ve seen ’em all.”
“I have no doubt,” Nicole said hopelessly. “But Daddy isn’t anything like Freddie Krueger.”
“Will Daddy go to prison?”
“No. He’ll probably be out on bond tonight.”
“That’s when you pay money to go free, right?”
“Yes,” she said vacantly, thinking of Paul. His bond was a million dollars. It had been so easy for his mother, Alicia, to come up with a hundred thousand dollars. He hadn’t been considered a flight risk because he was so attached to his ailing mother. But as soon as he was freed on bail, he was gone.
“Will Daddy have a trial?”
“Maybe we can work out something else. I can drop the charges and we can have counseling or something…”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not a lawyer. I’m not sure of anything. But I’ll try to keep Daddy out of jail.”
I’ll try to keep Daddy out of jail. The words rang in Nicole’s head when later she looked in the bathroom mirror at her bruising jaw. She remembered Ray telling her the police suspected Roger of paying Izzy Dooley to break into her house, maybe even to kill her. The thought gave her chills and definitely dampened both her guilt and her sympathy. Perhaps jail, maybe even a long prison sentence, is exactly what Roger Chandler not only needed, but deserved, because after all, she had no idea what the man was capable of anymore.
4
Nicole, Shelley, and Jesse cuddled on the ugly couch together, watching television. The carpet was still slightly damp from a professional cleaning, but for the first time Nicole found the smell pleasant. It was certainly better than the smell of fear and death that had filled her nostrils when she left here yesterday.
“I’m glad it’s Friday night and we don’t have school tomorrow,” Shelley said.
“Me, too,” Nicole agreed. “I think I’d scream if I had to teach tomorrow.”
“Mommy, do you think Daddy’s in jail now?”
“No. I think he’s probably already out”
“What if he comes back here and tries to take me away?”
Nicole hugged her. “The policeman is still outside. He won’t let Daddy in.” He won’t let Roger near, Nicole thought. Not with a restraining order. Lisa had come for his car earlier.
“Could we have some popcorn?” Shelley asked.
“Sure, kiddo.”
She had just placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave when the phone rang. Nicole picked it up to hear her mother blurting, “Nicole Marie Sloan, murders happened in your house and you didn’t tell me!”
“I didn’t want to upset you, Mom. There was nothing you could do.”
“I could have been there for moral support. But this person, this Iggy Dooley, what was he doing in your house?”
“Izzy Dooley,” Nicole said, setting the microwave for two minutes. “I didn’t invite him here, Mom, he was robbing the place.” At the very least, she thought.
“Well, who killed him?”
“I don’t know.”
“So there were two people in your house, one robbing it, one killing the robber, and you didn’t hear anything?”
She wasn’t about to tell her mother about the drinking, the mugging, the Seconal. Phyllis would be even more appalled. “I know it sounds incredible.”
“And a young police officer was also killed?”
“Yes. That was very sad.”
“It’s awful. It’s also awful that you didn’t tell me.”
“Mom, I—”
“Didn’t want to worry me. Kay’s been saying the same thing. You were in on this together.”
“Mom, don’t you get mad at Kay. She didn’t know what happened—only that I didn’t want you to read the newspaper yesterday evening.”
“I’m not going to get mad at her, especially knowing how persuasive you can be. She’s as much of a pushover when it comes to you as your father was.”
The first kernel popped and Nicole jumped. “Mom, I’m sorry you feel betrayed, but I really was trying to protect you. Besides, Shelley wasn’t even here—she was spending the night with Jill—and I wasn’t hurt.”
“But you must have been shocked out of your mind. And I didn’t even have a safe place for you to come because of that ridiculous carbon monoxide leak,” Phyllis snapped, as if she held the leak personally responsible for everything that had happened.
“Is the new furnace in?”
“Yes. I’m going home tomorrow. Then you and Shelley will move in with me.”
“We’re settled back in our own house, Mom.”
Phyllis’s voice became shrill. “You are not staying in a place where murderers lurk!”
“Murderers don’t usually lurk here, Mom. Besides, the house has been completely cleaned and we have a patrolman outside.”
“That didn’t help much the last time. That unfortunate young man.”
“I know. I feel terrible about it. I ordered flowers for his funeral, although I don’t know how his wife will feel about that—he did die because of me.”
“He died doing his duty, Nicole,” Phyllis said firmly. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. And flowers are always appreciated.”
“Mom, I do have a piece of good news. Jesse was found.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” her mother exclaimed. “I was so worried about what losing him might do to Shelley. Who found him?”
“I’m not sure,” Nicole said vaguely. “He was taken to a veterinarian’s, and they called me.”
“How did they know where to call?”
“His ID tag.” Nicole hated lying to her mother, but she certainly couldn’t tell her the truth. “He had a bad scratch on his side, but otherwise he’s fine.”
“I’m glad. And I’m sure Shelley is ecstatic.”
“She is.”
Her mother paused. “Well, if I can’t talk you into moving in with me, will you at least come to the house tomorrow afternoon, just so I can assure myself you and Shelley are really all right?”
“Sure, Mom,” Nicole said, then remembered the bruise on her jaw. Tomorrow would call for heavier makeup than usual and staying out of bright light. “Will you be home around noon?”
“Yes. I’ll fix a light lunch.” She paused. “And you may even bring that little ragamuffin dog, if you like.”
Her mother must really be worrying about them to issue an invitation for Jesse, too, Nicole thought. “I’m sure Shelley would love to bring him.”
The corn was now popping wildly and Shelley appeared in the kitchen. “Aunt Carmen’s here.”
Nicole nodded. “Mom—”
“I heard. You have company. Have a nice evening and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Carmen had come armed with some late-edition fashion magazines “which I’m sure you haven’t had time to read,” and their senior high school yearbook “for laughs.”
Nicole took up the popcorn, melted a whole stick of butter in the microwave (so much for calories and cholesterol, she thought), and drizzled it over the bowl. Then she fixed soft drinks and carried everything back to the living room.
Carmen really looked at her for the first time. “What happened to your face?”
Nicole was about to say she’d bumped it on the door when Shelley volunteered, “Daddy was here, shouting and stuff about the murders. He wanted to take me away, and when Mommy wouldn’t let him, he tried to hit the policeman and then he did hit Mommy. The policeman put him in handcuffs, read him his rights, and took him to jail.”
Carmen’s lips parted and she looked at Nicole. “Really?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I can’t believe it!” Carmen exclaimed. “Well, yes, I guess I can. He’s out of control.”
Nicole sat down on the couch. “Oh, it wasn’t such a big deal,” she said for Shelley’s benefit. “He didn’t mean to do it, and my jaw doesn’t hurt at all.” Carmen looked as if she didn’t want to let go of the subject, but Nicole’s voice was firm. “Why didn’t you bring Jill?”
“Jill is spending the night with a friend. I thought you might find it creepy being back here, so I decided to spend the evening with you.”
Nicole smiled. “It’s a pleasant surprise. Just the three of us girls, hangin’ out.”
“Us girls and Jesse,” Shelley said, burrowing between Nicole and Carmen on the couch, reaching forward for the popcorn bowl and offering it to Carmen. She stared at it for a moment then dived in, obviously not worrying about the diet tonight. When the bowl was empty, they turned to the yearbook. Shelley looked at her mother’s senior picture—stiff, unnatural, her young face crowned with layered, puffy hair—and laughed. “Your hair doesn’t stick out like that anymore, Mommy.”
“No. Styles change, thank goodness. You don’t know how much time I spent trying to get my naturally straight hair to curl and pouf. I hate to think of how much hair spray I used. Your Aunt Carmen was blessed. Her hair curled all by itself.”
They looked at Carmen’s photograph. Her hair was indeed full, her face thinner. “Aunt Carmen, you look sad in that picture,” Shelley said.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” Carmen said softly.
Nicole remembered the day those photos were taken. Carmen and Bobby had had a fight in the morning. Carmen was upset out of all proportion, it had seemed to Nicole. She didn’t know then that Carmen thought, probably correctly, that Bobby would immediately turn to another girl.
“Let’s look at some more,” Shelley said. “Are there any other people in here I know?”
“I don’t think so,” Carmen told her. “But there are others of your mother and me.” Carmen flipped pages. “Here’s your mother—the head cheerleader all the boys wanted to date.”
“Oh, sure,” Nicole laughed. “I sat home lots of Saturday nights. I was afraid I wasn’t even going to be asked to the prom.”
“That’s because your parents scared off everyone,” Carmen said. “Boys nearly had to be cleared by the FBI before they could date you.”
“Blame that on Mom. The general taught her interrogation techniques that would frighten off the bravest soul.”
“Were you a cheerleader, Aunt Carmen?” Shelley asked.
“No, I was in the band. I wore a heavy uniform and hid behind a saxophone.”
“Were you a good player?”
“No, I was awful.”
“Then how come you did it?”
“I guess I just wanted attention.” Carmen turned more pages. “Oh, look, Nicole. Here we are in that Thespian Club play.”
Nicole peered closely. “We are? What play?”
“Don’t you remember? The principal’s son was a drama major in college. He wrote that horrid play about the Salem witch trials, and the principal nearly forced the Thespian Club to put it on. It was long, boring, factually inaccurate.” Carmen laughed. “There we are—Witch Number One and Witch Number Two. We had to wear hoods, Shelley, which the real victims of the witch trials never wore.”
“Hoods?” Shelley echoed as Nicole felt herself going hollow.
“Yeah. Hoods to symbolize death—we all had to come back and give a speech after we’d been hanged, and the hoods were sort of gruesome reminders to the audience that we were dead. You made such a big deal about it all, Nicole. About the hanging, and especially about the silly hood. You hated it. You were nearly obsessed with it. You threatened to burn yours after the play.”
“I’d forgotten,” Nicole said weakly. “In the play we were hanged as witches and wore hoods.”
Carmen suddenly frowned. Shelley touched Nicole’s arm. “Mommy, why do you look so weird? And how come you’re so cold?”
Nicole couldn’t answer. She simply stared at Carmen and saw one word mirrored in her eyes: “hood.” Hoods exactly like the ones Magaro and Zand wore fifteen years ago. Hoods like the one Izzy Dooley wore yesterday morning as he hung from the tree in her yard.