Chapter 17

Ten minutes later, Meredith sat in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to perk and listening to the sound of Sally’s footsteps. Too nervous to accompany a possible critic, she had remained downstairs while Sally Fielding accepted her urging to tour the house for herself. In the few moments they had been together, Sally’s lively chatter set them both at ease and filled Meredith in on her neighbor’s background.

Sally Fielding called herself a country girl, but she had come to the city to pursue a career in modeling. Charm and posture schools bored her. She soon realized that her first love was the beautiful fabrics and elegant settings models enjoyed. That interest led naturally to interior design, where she met her husband. Mark Fielding, she explained, was out of town this week on a buying trip.

For her own part, Meredith had told Sally the basics about the move to Mabton and her own counseling career. Now, as she listened to footsteps returning down the stairs, she hoped her first impression had not been wrong. If the yard sale brought her one friend in Sally Fielding, it would be worth all the trouble.

“Who did your color selection?” Sally’s voice called from the dining room. “I love the Wedgwood blue.”

“Actually, I did. I’m afraid it’s nothing too original.”

Sally came into the kitchen and joined Meredith at the table. “Basic good taste. Lots of lights, lots of color. Not as flamboyant as I would have done, of course. Mark accuses me of favoring eighteenth-century French high-brothel style. I simply love red. It clashes with my hair, naturally.”

Relieved, Meredith poured two cups of coffee. “From what I saw when I moved in, anything would have been an improvement.”

“Oh, that.” Sally’s eyes widened. “I never saw the gray, but Elsa talked it up enough. Too bad about what happened.”

Meredith studied the other woman. She obviously knew more about the house, but assumed Meredith had the whole story. The opening was too attractive to pass up. “You mean the way they painted the place?”

Sally stared at her in surprise, so Meredith hurried on. “To tell the truth, Elsa’s been dangling some secret in front of me for the last month. Every time I ask what happened, she clams up. Did the former owner go crazy, or what?”

“The wife went crazy. And Elsa didn’t tell you? Why, the old witch—but it figures.” Sally glanced around the sunlit kitchen. “The Johnsons play games. He screws around some with any slut that will have him, and Elsa actually seems to approve of it. Ed pays for his freedom by telling Elsa every piece of gossip he unearths.”

Meredith knew that there were all kinds of perverse behaviors, but she was always a little shocked when she ran into a new example. “Feels like the walls have ears,” Sally continued, looking around. “Things started getting real bad about a year ago. Gruesome goings-on for our part of town. But Lordy, you’ve got to live here. Maybe you’d rather not know.”

“I think I’d better.” Meredith explained that at least the truth would help her fend off Elsa. “And it feels important,” she added, “emotionally, sort of.”

“Can’t say I blame you, but it’s not a pretty story. Elsa knows more than I do, but you’ll never worm it out of her. Come to think of it, I hardly remember their names. Anderson or Adam or something. Hers was Patty. She always called herself that little girl’s name, never Pat or Patricia. Not that I saw much of them. We met once for introductions when they moved in, once at our place a year or so later.”

“Don’t take it wrong, but I get the feeling you weren’t friendly with them. Any reason?”

“I didn’t dislike them. We never really talked. He was some sort of engineer, and Patty . . . well to tell the truth I felt sorry for Patty. She was okay, nice enough, but shy! Unbelievable. And she worshiped the ground her husband walked on. Couldn’t hold up her end of the conversation if I as much as said a cuss word. Which I do.” Sally cast an appraising glance. “Bother you?”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I mean, hell no.”

“So anyway, this mousy little Patty wanted to have babies. Nothing but babies, that was all she could talk about. Asked me all about my two, they’re eight and ten now. Asking what was it like being a mother, and did I want more kids. You gotta be kidding, I said, which was when the conversation fell apart.”

“This was when they were at your house?”

“When they moved in, the first time I saw them. Mark and I were hardly home those days, setting up the business and running around to make contacts. Nosy Elsa poked her head in and gave reports now and then. Once the sweet young thing was supposed to be pregnant. False alarm, it turned out—wishful thinking, I figure. Anyhow, maybe six months later something awful happened. Elsa lets on like she knows what, but I don’t think so. She came by and said the poor little thing was crying one morning. Elsa acted all important about what it might be. I know Elsa, she was trading on credit that time. Shortly after that, the gray went up. Elsa spread the word, natch, and when I drove by I snuck a look through the window. Lordy, you should have seen it. Oh, but that’s right, you did.”

Meredith nodded. She was saddened by Sally’s meandering tale. Memories of gray walls, charcoal furniture, and dark rugs had told of an emotional depression that fed on darkness. “Did she ever get pregnant? Maybe she had a miscarriage.”

“Could be. They never did have a kid. Which reminds me, that looks like an extra room upstairs. I assume you have plans.”

Meredith had to laugh. Sally’s quick, caring way of setting a person at ease and her spontaneous curiosity were a welcome relief after Elsa. “Don’t tell Elsa, but we do. Maybe soon.” She explained about the debate between children and work. “To tell the truth, now that I feel at home here, I suspect the work will have to wait.”

Sally smiled broadly. “I felt the same way, and you know, I was right. Lordy, I wouldn’t give up my two for the chance to redecorate the White House.” She paused as if lost in thought. “But where was I? Of course, the gray days.”

“Did you see her after that?” Meredith broke in.

“Once. Twice, if you count a shape under a sheet the day the ambulance came. Brrr.” Sally shivered, shaking her head. “I never saw her out around the yard or anything. But the second time was when Mark and I were having this neighborhood get-together, maybe two years ago, and damn it felt rude not to invite them. We never figured they’d come, but in the door walks little Patty, him behind her. She was wearing this long gray dress, and did it look awful. But she had her chin out in the air, holding her head stiff like some Hollywood princess. I mean, you could practically hear the strain it took for her to say hello. She looked like death warmed over, poor kid. I tried to act nice, ‘wonderful to see you both’ and all that. But then, oh hell, I checked out. She looked so pale and scared, like any minute she’d fall apart. I ran like a yellow coward and went to pass hors d’oeuvres.”

Sally paused, her attractive features suddenly tight with concern. “Anyway, they left early, him hustling her out the door. They even brought the car, half a block, if you can believe it. Of course, they maybe had another place to go. Wonder if they ever got there . . .”

“And then?” Meredith felt riveted to Sally’s account. She tried to cover her eagerness by taking a sip of coffee, but found it had gone cold.

The other woman remained silent for a moment, and when she spoke, all liveliness had faded from her voice. “Suicide,” she said bluntly. “The poor kid killed herself. Not right after, a couple months. Seems like it was spring. Elsa found the body, the husband was gone at work. To hear Elsa tell it,” she added bitterly, “the poor child was swinging in the breeze out on gallows hill.”

Sally’s words left off. Meredith waited, part of her mind in rebellion against hearing more, the other part, the stronger one, unable to turn away.

“Elsa will tell you her gory version, no doubt, but the plain truth is she hung herself. From the upstairs railing of the banister, must have jumped over the rail. She was dead when they got there. Really sad.”

“It could have been an accident . . .”

Sally shook her head. “Not a chance. The husband left, moved out the next day. No cops investigating or anything. Besides, he really did love her. I mean he must have, putting up with that, right?”

Meredith nodded, at a loss for words. She remembered the air of death she had felt in the living room, the advance of those terrible gray walls. It was impossible, she thought, or possible only in dreams. Or hallucinations.

Gloom descended over the kitchen. Sally seemed distant, lost in her own thoughts. Meredith felt embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I brought it up. Fine way to get acquainted,” she added. “This isn’t the cheerful cup of coffee we’d planned on.”

Sally tapped with the sugar spoon. “Don’t apologize. You need to hear. Sometimes I wonder what happened, you know? It must have been something awful. I mean, we all go through rough times. What made her go so far?”

“I think I know.” The words escaped Meredith before she realized their meaning. She wanted to call them back, but they were true. “Not know,” she fumbled. “Feel? I feel that’s it. Moving in and being around all that gray, would you understand if I said I could feel her pain?”

Sally’s hazel eyes studied her sympathetically. “I think so.”

“I don’t mean ghosts. Or maybe I do.” Meredith shook her head and looked away. “Sorry. Listen, you need more coffee. Let me get that.”

“No more for me, I have to go.” Sally stood and shook the creases from her kaftan. “But let’s get together again soon, okay? And next time we won’t talk about this, and not even a word about Elsa. Deal?” She paused, smiling as Meredith nodded in agreement. “Say, how’s your schedule this week? Mark’s gone until Thursday. Got an evening free?”

Delighted, Meredith welcomed the opening. “Richard’s traveling this week, too,” she said. “He gets back late Wednesday night. Which is best, Monday or Tuesday?”

“Tuesday. Monday’s the fabrics convention. How about my place around eight?”

“Perfect.”

Sally was momentarily hesitant, seeming to try to make up her mind. “You’ll be at home alone for three nights. I don’t want to scare you. I saw a phone in the bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“Door locked, curtains pulled, maximum security.” Sally was displeased with what she was saying, but she obviously felt that she had to say it. “I told you that Ed was not welcome anywhere. I saw him in my backyard late one night. Claimed his hat blew off, and he was looking for it. Trouble is, there hadn’t been a stitch of wind all day.”

“Peeping Tom?”

“That would be a generous explanation.” Sally turned as the kitchen door opened.

Richard leaned into the kitchen. “When do I get a break? Fellow down the street wants to show me a boat he is selling.”

“There go the profits.” Meredith thanked Sally with a smile, then followed her out into the yard. It was a beautiful day, even though the street was deserted except for a few customers in her yard. When she glanced toward Elsa’s house, she caught a movement of a curtain in an upstairs window. She paused.

Usually Elsa did her spying from the kitchen.