nearby street, and come the last little bit on foot.
But she had to come soon or risk running into Dwi—
The back veranda door squeaked and I froze.
I'd unplugged the night light here in the front parlor but the one in the hallway was enough to light her way to the central staircase, and she hurried past without a glance in my direction.
The tape atop my VCR was clearly dated and labeled. Not the real one, of course, but I didn't think she'd take the time to watch it here.
Indeed, she was up there only a minute or two before I saw her dark shape on the stairway again. I waited till she was passing the parlor's arched doorway, then switched on the lamp beside me.
'I see you found it.'
The cassette fell from her nerveless fingers, but she stooped and snatched it up again and clutched it to her chest.
'I—I thought you—'
'No,' I said gently.
She looked down at the tape.
'You poisoned Herman,' I said. 'Why?'
Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
'He made her cry a lot,' she whispered. 'Like my father. He didn't trust her. That's what she always said. I thought she meant like Dad didn't trust me—always after me and after me, and talking about sex and what boys wanted and making it all dirty.'
'Like Carver Bannerman? You gave him poison, too, didn't you?'
'He was filth!' she said indignantly. 'Married. A pregnant wife and not caring who else he made pregnant—! Dad was right. That's all any of them want. To put their hands in our pants, put their things in our—'
A great shudder of repulsion shook her.
Dwight says I never think.
He's wrong. I
Instead of bursting into tears and confessing that she'd administered several doses of arsenic to her father and Herman, and had slipped Carver Bannerman a first dose, too, her face filled with a dread and horror I'll see in my nightmares the rest of my life as it finally dawned on her what she was facing. In that instant, she turned and fled for the back door.
By the time I got to the veranda, she was nowhere in sight. Her car could be parked anywhere. I flicked on the yard lights and forced myself to stop and listen.
Over there! Crashing through Aunt Zell's flowers.
I raced down the grassy path and saw her balanced on the rail of the arched bridge that spanned the pool. She hesitated for only a second, then pushed off from the rail with all the force she could muster to dive straight down.
Headfirst.
Into a pool she knew was only four feet deep.
I splashed into the water after her, but when I got there and turned her face up, blood was staining the water from the top of her head, and she wasn't breathing.
It was the worst dilemma I've ever faced.
As gently as I could, I laid her over the coping of the pool with her legs still in the water and performed the Heimlich maneuver till I thought her lungs were emptied of water, then I pulled her all the way up and started CPR till finally, finally she began to breathe again.
Blood was a dark halo on the white tile around her head.
A phone, I thought. The rescue squad.
And then blessedly I heard Dwight's car door slam. * * *
Another Intensive Care waiting room.
'Why? O God, why?' cried Eleanor Byrd as we waited to hear if Paige's head injuries included a broken neck.
'She thought Herman was doing to Annie Sue what Perry did to her,' I said.
'No!' she said wildly. 'Perry never touched Paige. Never!' But her eyes couldn't meet mine.
I might never know exactly what Perry Byrd did to push their daughter over the edge, but I'd bet every dime I'll ever make that she did.
Dwight came back then and took me out of there. I was still in the damp, chlorine-smelling clothes I'd worn over in the ambulance.
