expect she would have any reason to be here, but there she was—unconscious on the floor.”
Dunne looked tired. Faith was surprised. Obviously the attack on Charmaine had to be connected with Eddie Russell's murder, and Dunne should have been pleased that more clues were turning up. Although, she reflected, this meant more questioning and investigating, and the most obvious tie-in was the suggestion that some sort of maniac was on the loose. Not an appealing thought.
Dunne cleared the room and told the Hubbards Charmaine could be moved in a few moments. He motioned Faith outside into the hallway.
“Go home.”
She was indignant. 'Well—'
“I'll see you later.”
His left eye twitched. It might or might not have been a wink.
Faith went upstairs and got her coat. She still wanted to find out what Julia Cabot had to say about Eddie Russell, but she could see her tomorrow. Tom's 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire' would have to wait a bit.
Chief Francis Coffin, supported on either side by trusty minions, was coming in the door as she was leaving. He stopped dead in his tracks. 'Now don't tell me you were snuggled up with this one too!' He laughed so hard, he had to sit down to recover his breath.
“No,' Faith replied frostily, 'I did not find Mrs. Hubbard. Her husband did. I was merely here to help in the kitchen.' He shook his head and his cap fell off. 'Seems you have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Better stay in your own kitchen. Bake some Christmas cookies.' He heaved himself out of the chair and tottered out of the room. It was impossible to be angry at something so ludicrous.
She left quickly, got into her car, and was starting to back out of the space when Denise knocked at the window. Her face was blue with the cold and her teeth were chattering. She looked even worse than she had that morning.
Faith braked quickly and leaned across to open the door.
“Get in quickly. You must be freezing!'
“I am.”
Denise was immobile for a moment, staring ahead through the windshield. It was a beautiful winter landscape. The evergreens were frosted with snow, and in the distance the frozen Concord River slid like a silver ribbon under an old stone bridge. But Faith was certain Denise wasn't transfixed by the scene.
“Why don't you tell me about it?' she said gently.
Denise turned her head and considered.
“I suppose that's why I've been waiting. Is Charmaine badly injured?'
“I'm not a professional, but I'd say she was going to be fine.' Surely Denise couldn't have been Charmaine's attacker, yet she was obviously relieved at Faith's words.
She shook her head slowly. 'This whole thing is like a nightmare. And I didn't see how my life could possibly have gotten any worse.”
The car was warm and the windows had steamed up, making a kind of cozy cocoon, but the parking lot at Hubbard House didn't seem the best place for true confessions. 'Look,' said Faith, 'let's go to my house and we'll get something warm to drink and sort things out.'
“If we only could—but I'll come to your house, Faith. I have to do something.”
She slumped back in the seat and they drove to Aleford in silence. At one point Faith thought Denise might be asleep, but she opened her eyes again almost immediately.
Tom was in the kitchen. He started to say something jokingly to his wife when he saw Denise's face behind Faith and quickly pulled out a chair for her.
“Denise has come for some tea and sympathy,' Faith told him.
“Then I'll leave you to it,' he said tactfully.
“No, please stay, Reverend Fairchild. I'd like to have you here. I need—' She had trouble finishing her sentence. 'I need some spiritual help.”
Faith put the water on, and soon a steaming pot of tea was ready. Denise was too. She sat up and looked better than she had since her arrival at Hubbard House earlier in the day.
“I have a problem with drugs.' It was a bald statement and seemed to exhaust her, but she kept going.
“When I was married, my husband was heavily involved with cocaine—the recreational drug, you know,' she said caustically. 'It was one of the reasons I divorced him. His son, Joel, knew, and it was mainly why he wanted to stay with me, I believe.' She took a large sip of tea. 'Joel doesn't know about me. But Eddie Russell did. He was my supplier. I'm addicted to diazepam—Valium. My husband used to take it with the coke and there was always plenty around. At first I just took one or two when I felt stressed, and believe me there was a lot to be stressed about in those days. Then my dependency increased, and even after he was gone I couldn't function without it. I'd try to keep myself from taking one; then I'd have terrible anxiety attacks. I couldn't leave the house without my precious vial of pills. I had kept my eyes open at Hubbard House, so I knew Eddie.' She looked straight at Faith. 'And no, it is not why I went there as a volunteer—to score drugs. I went because I was trying hard to find some meaning in my life—through the temple and through my volunteer work. But things were too out of control. Eddie actually approached me. Maybe I looked like a user. Anyway, he said we could have a good time together and he had ways to make it even better. I wasn't interested in him romantically, but we did have a brief affair. Then the relationship was strictly business.”
Tom and Faith had been listening intently. The shadows were lengthening in the yard, but Faith didn't want to interrupt things by turning on the lights. Instead she reached across the table and put her hand on Denise's.
“Oh, Denise, I'm so sorry. I wish I had known you sooner. You've been in so much pain.”
Denise seemed to falter again, then resumed speaking. 'At first it was simple. I'd give him the money and he'd give me the drugs. Then he began to increase the price, and finally he began to really do a number on me by telling me he couldn't get any for a few days before coming through. I knew it was blackmail and I knew he was a liar and a sadist, but there was nothing I could do about it. When I heard he was dead, I went crazy. Fortunately Joel is away on a school ski trip. I haven't slept and I've torn the house apart looking for places I might have stashed some.”
It was now so dark, Faith had to turn on the lights, and she took the teapot to add some hot water. Tom moved his chair closer to Denise.
“I was meeting Charmaine because I always assumed they were in it together. I'm pretty sure he got the stuff from her that night at the Holly Ball.”
Faith remembered the mystery of the missing pocketbook—that big pocketbook, big enough to hold several CVS branches.
“So Eddie had something to do with the lights going off?'
“He liked to be dramatic. Told me to meet him by the main switch, and when he pulled it, he handed me some pills. He was like a kid that way.”
Denise was talked out. She sat with her hands around the cup for warmth. Her face was lined and she looked about fifty years older than usual.
Tom spoke. 'You know that Faith and I will do everything to help you. Which means talking to the police and then a treatment program, if that's what you want. The important thing for you to remember is you're not going to be alone.”
Denise put her head down on the table and sobbed like a child. Faith stood behind her and stroked her head.
A few hours later Dunne had left and Tom was driving Denise to McLean's Hospital. Faith was back in the kitchen waiting for her husband's return. She was idly leafing through her recipe file looking for something new to do with squash—squash tortellini in brown butter?—but her mind strayed to Hubbard House, as usual. She'd started to phone Aunt Chat earlier with an update and decided it was too complicated to explain except in person. Instead she'd written on a postcard of the Aleford green:
