bathroom. She washed her face in warm water, then sponged her red eyes with cold. Carefully, she put on fresh make-up and combed her hair. Studying herself in the mirror, she said, 'Not too bad.”
She went back into the bedroom and picked up her purse. An object in the middle of the bed caught her eye. A piece of paper with something on top. She stepped around the side of the bed to reach for it, then drew her hand back with a cry.
The note said, 'MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.”
The new paring knife was driven through the paper and into the mattress.
Nineteen
They'd be here any minute. Panic rose in her throat like a bubble. After taking a few long breaths, she dialed Shelley's number, but it rang six times without an answer. Jane hung up when Katie came to the door.
“What are you doing with your door shut, Mom?'
“Oh, was it shut?' Jane said, forcing a smile that made her lips hurt.
“Mom, you're acting weird. Jenny's mom is waiting. If it's okay with you, she said Jenny and I could go with her to watch her get her hair frosted. Okay? I'll be back in time for dinner, and I don't have any homework. How do you think I'd look with my hair frosted?”
Jane reached for her purse and took out a twenty-dollar bill. 'Here, why don't you treat Jenny and her mom to dinner at the mall?'
“Huh?' Katie stared at the money as if itmight bite. 'You're giving me this and I didn't even ask?'
“Yes, now go. Go.'
“Oh-kay!”
Jane closed the bedroom door again and followed Katie downstairs. Mike was just coming in. He dumped his backpack full of books on top of Katie's on the kitchen floor. 'Listen, Mom, a bunch of the guys asked me to play a little basketball and go for pizza. Do you care?'
“No, that's fine.”
He had his mouth open, ready to launch into an argument on behalf of his plans. 'Hey, you sick or something? You look kinda pale.'
“Just tired,' she said.
“Hey, in band this morning, Old Bellhaven started having a big fit 'cause nobody was marching in time, so he makes us go in the band room and sits us all down. He's hopping around and yelling his head off like he does, and he goes up to the board and writes these huge letters
Jane forced a smile.
“Mom, what's wrong? You usually like Scott stories.”
She wanted to hug him and assure him that she loved Scott stories and loved him more and wouldn't let anything happen to him. But instead she punched him on the arm and said, 'Couldn't sleep last night, that's all. Tell me again tomorrow when I'm awake and I'll laugh. I promise. Now get along to your basketball game.”
Unlike Joyce Greenway, she was a rotten actress. Mike headed for the door, then paused. 'Are you really sure it's okay if I go?'
“Positive.”
Two down, one remaining.
Shelley drove up as Mike was leaving on his bike. Jane ran out to meet her. She could see the woman who drove Todd's car pool on Mondays coming down the street. 'Shelley, go up to my bedroom and carefully lift the underwear off the bed. I've got to get rid of Todd. I don't want the kids to know.”
Shelley got out of the minivan. 'Don't want them to know what?'
“You'll see. Don't touch anything but the underwear.”
Shelley went inside. Jane waited for the gray Volkswagen to pull in the drive. Todd tumbled out, wrestling with Elliot Wallenberg. 'Mom, can Elliot stay here and play soldiers?'
“Honey, I've got a headache. Why don't you both go play soldiers at Elliot's instead?”
That was agreeable to them and, giggling, they piled back into the car. Fortunately, the Monday driver was a woman Jane hardly knew, a brand-new addition to the neighborhood, and she was spared having to make pleasant conversation. By the time Jane got back to the house, Shelley was standing at the door. She had one hand over her mouth as if physically stopping a scream.
“Have you called the police?”
Jane came inside and watched out the window to make sure the gray Rabbit hadn't turned back for any reason. 'Not yet. I didn't want the kids to know. I'll call now. Do you have that number for Detective VanDyne? I don't know what I've done with it.'
“I've got it at home. Wait, isn't that it on the pad next to the phone?'
“Yes. I wonder if whoever did this noticed that I keep his number handy for constant communication?' She dialed. 'Detective VanDyne, this is Jane Jeffry. I need you to come right over. Someone has stabbed my bed. I mean, well — come over and you'll see what I mean. No, wait! No sirens. Please don't come with sirens or police cars.”
She hung up before he could ask her any questions, then went into the living room and flung herself down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Shelley plopped down in a most unShelleylike manner in the chair across from her.
“If I kept a diary, I could have a whole month's worth for this one day. It will live in my memory forever, unfortunately.'
“For heaven's sake, Jane, don't go on about diaries. Tell me about that knife in your bed!'
“There's nothing to tell you. It was there like that when I came home. I saw it and threw some clothes over it, and got to work trying to find you and get the kids safely out of the house without alarming them.'
“Who put it there?'
“Shelley! That's a dumb question. All I know is it's there. Could Joyce have done it before you got her out?'
“No, she was all but clinging to me the whole time. I had to pry her fingers off my arm to get her into her car.'
“Did you lock the door?'
“Jane, I've been combing my brain to remember. I just don't know. I pulled it shut. If you had the button turned, it locked. Did you?”
Jane put her arm over her eyes and sighed. 'I have no idea. No idea.”
The doorbell rang and Jane tried to get up. She was so emotionally exhausted that her legs wouldn't even move right. She was almost woozy, like coming out of ether in the dentist's office.
Shelley jumped up. 'Stay there. I'll let him in.
Jane heard the door opening and Shelley's soft tones. Then there was the creaking of the third step as her friend took Van Dyne upstairs to see the knife and note. Absurdly, she was wishing the underwear she'd strewn around the bed was lacy stuff, not practical, white cotton.
She heard them come downstairs and go from door to door, checking the locks. Apparently the knife had changed Detective VanDyne's mind about her, because when he and Shelley came back into the living room a few minutes later, he was pleasant and polite. 'I'd like to have a man from the lab over. May I use your phone?'
“Ask him to come in a plain car, not a police car,' Shelley said. 'Jane doesn't want her children frightened.'
“Of course.”
He was back in a moment. Jane managed topull herself upright. 'When did this happen?' he asked.
“I found it about three-thirty. I had been gone from about two or two-thirty.'
