'If I could, I would remove Melissa from you altogether.' The Judge paused and when he spoke, his tone was venomous. 'Milam has always demonstrated utter lack of judgment. His selection of you as his wife confirms that.'
Julia wanted to scream, to cry, to run, but there was no escape, just as there had never been an escape from her father.
'I can see no good solution, but I have decided that you and Melissa will return to your parents. That should direct the course of your behavior and provide Melissa with a stable background'
Somehow, never looking toward the Judge yet so horribly aware of his malevolent gaze, Julia stood and moved jerkily toward the door, her mind a maelstrom of horror and sick fear and frenzied determination.
She had to save Melissa.
Her baby. Oh, Jesus God, her baby . . .Chapter 12.
Miss Dora dominated the elegant room and her shocked guests. 'A single shot.' Those reptilian eyes flickered to each face in turn.
'But that means . . .' Julia's slurred voice trailed off.
The others said nothing—and that in itself was an admission: they believed Miss Dora. They had to believe her. She might be old, she might be imperious, she might be unpleasant, but she was totally competent, capable, and cognizant.
'Christ.' The shock in Milam's voice was mirrored on every face.
Charlotte's plump face was bewildered. 'I don't understand.' She reached out, held to Whitney's arm.
He murmured a meaningless 'It's all right, Charlotte.' But it wasn't all right, and he knew it. His eyes had the look of a man who'd been jolted, his very foundations shaken, and Annie knew Whitney was recalling that afternoon and trying to incorporate this piece of information that destroyed for all time a family's pained acceptance of tragedy.
'I knew it,' Sybil cried. 'Miss Dora, I knew it couldn't he Ross.' Then her face fell. 'But, why would he—oh, God, Miss Dora, Uncle Harmon must have been wrong—' She seemed to hear and understand her own thought for the first time and the enormity of it transformed her into a raging Fury, her splendid eyes flashing, her lovely face twisted into a mask of hatred. 'One of you. One of you!' Her fierce gaze probed each in turn, Whitney so clearly shaken by Miss Dora's disclosure, Charlotte seeking reassurance, Milam's face blank with shock, Julia fumbling for comprehension.
'Sybil, listen to me closely.' Once again, Miss Dora spoke gently. 'My brother, Harmon, was no fool. I realized at the time that he was not telling me everything. Harmon would go to great lengths to protect the Family—but he would not have connived in hiding a double murder. Harmon knew how Au gustus died. Harmon made the decision to mask that murder. Harmon personally handled all of the funeral planning and oversaw the removal of the bodies that day. We know from what Whitney told us that he and Harmon worked together to dress Augustus. Harmon would only have done so had he felt the murderer was beyond justice. So we can, in the main, accept much of what Harmon related to me that next day: Ross left a note; Ross killed himself.'
'But Ross didn't kill his father.' Sybil's tone was bewil dered. 'You know that. So why would Ross leave a note con fessing to a murder he didn't commit? Why would he kill himself when his grandfather came to the lodge?'
'Because he was determined to accept responsibility for his father's murder.' Miss Dora said it quietly.
Annie shivered. She could not even imagine what would have propelled Ross Tarrant to make such an awful sacrifice.
Sybil swept a hand through her thick black hair. 'That's crazy. Ross was never crazy. Don't you see, Uncle Harmon had everything wrong—'
'Oh, I understand,' Charlotte said in a rush, her words tumbling eagerly. 'Amanda! It had to be Amanda! She and Augustus had quarreled, I know that. It must have been Amanda!' She looked from her husband to her brother-in-law.'Don't you see? That explains everything—Ross came into the house and found his mother in the study with Augustus. Maybe she was still holding the gun. Of course he would take it from her and send her upstairs and then he would run with the gun. Maybe he was going to hide it. And when he got to the lodge, he realized that the police would come and even if he said he did it, his mother would step forward and confess. But if he died—then why would she speak out? His death would protect her.'
They all stared at Charlotte.
In Miss Dora's bright, dark eyes, there was grudging re spect.
Sybil blindly sat down and stared sightlessly at the cold fireplace. 'Ross loved his mother. Oh, my God.'
Whitney cleared his throat. 'I can't believe Mother would —but if Ross didn't shoot the Judge, why else would he kill himself? Oh, Christ.'
'Not Amanda,' Julia murmured blearily.
'My conclusion'—Miss Dora thumped her cane—'is that Charlotte perceives correctly one aspect of that dreadful day: Ross Tarrant indeed took his own life late on the afternoon of May ninth, 1970, and can be adjudged a gallant and honorable
