she hoped, he was the only one around. Charley was still savoring the feast at the Garrisons'. 'Oh dear:' Faith had said, 'I think he wanted to get my fingerprints again—to eliminate them from the ones on the basement light switch.'
“I don't think so, Mrs. Fairchild,' Dale had reassuredher. 'We didn't find any prints on the switch. In fact, we haven't found any prints anywhere they should be. It was all wiped clean. Don't worry about it.' Faith had thanked him profusely. Such a nice boy.
Crescent Hill had been the brainchild of a group of Cambridge architects about thirty years earlier. They'd purchased the large tract of land collectively and created a small community of unique houses, complete with a shared pool and park. Over the years, the group had gone on to greater fame and fortune. The houses were highly prized—not by people of Millicent's ilk but by everyone else. Most sold through word of mouth before they even reached the market. They were set far apart and now that the landscaping had matured, it was hard to see them from the road.
Faith located the Heunemans, by the name on the mailbox, turned up the drive, and parked in the carport. The house had a dramatic glassed-in entryway on one side, next to a small pond stocked with goldfish in the summer. The sun had burst through the clouds shortly after the funeral, and passing from the cold of March into the warmth of this solarium made Faith regret the lack of such an amenity at the parsonage. She rang the bell.
f Audrey was surprised to see Faith at her door, she did not show it. She asked her in, duly admiring the baby. James was nowhere in sight and had apparently returned to work.
Faith refused an offer of coffee. She sometimes felt she was swimming in it in Aleford, and it was never espresso. Somewhat awkwardly, she sat down on part of the large sectional sofa in the second-floor living room, which overlooked the yard, and unzipped Amy's snowsuit.
“I think I know why you left the service so suddenly this morning,' she began.
Two bright red spots appeared on both of Audrey's cheeks. 'It's really not something I care to discuss.”
Faith felt she had to continue. She knew Penny would agree.
“I don't mean to push you into talking about anything you don't wish to, but I think in this case, it might make you feel better.”
Audrey started to interrupt.
“No, please, let me tell you what I came to say and then you can do whatever you want. I have learned a great deal about Alden Spaulding since his death, and there is no question that he was a very disturbed individual, especially sexually.”
Audrey breathed in sharply. She looked alarmed.
“He tried to molest his own half sister, Penny, when she was a child. She didn't tell anyone until she got married and her husband confronted Alden, who denied it. The Bartletts thought their warning, and surveillance, would prevent any other attacks. But I don't think they were right.'
“No,' Audrey said softly, 'they weren't?' Holding Amy on her lap, Faith moved closer to Audrey. The woman started to sob uncontrollably and Faith put an arm around her. The tears were streaming down Faith's cheeks, as well. It was only when the bewildered baby began to add her own cries that the two women pulled apart and Audrey, taking a tissue from her pocket, said, 'You may not want any, but I have to have some coffee—or something else.”
In the kitchen, with Amy comfortably ensconced in her mother's lap, daintily devouring the Cheerios Audrey had spread in front of her, Faith felt enormouslyangry—angry that she had attended this man's funeral; angry that she had been correct.
Audrey sat with her hands around a mug from Disney World. Her kids would be home from school soon, so she'd decided to go with coffee.
“You never stop feeling vulnerable. You never stop feeling afraid. When my girls were born, my first reaction each time was panic—how could I keep them safe when I hadn't been kept safe? It wasn't joy. He robbed me of that, too.”
Faith wrapped her arms around Amy a bit tighter.
“My father was an early investor in COPYCOPY. The whole idea was so new and everyone connected to it was terribly excited. Eventually, when he made enough money, Spaulding bought everybody out, and they never got the big return he did, but they didn't do badly. My father was fascinated by the process and by Alden. The two spent a great deal of time together, going over different systems and, when things got started, overseeing the stores. Mother felt sorry for Alden because he lived alone and she often invited him to dinner. Our houses were close together and he told me to come and play in his grounds whenever I wanted”
Her voice became dreamy. 'You can't imagine how beautiful it was. I would take my dolls and have all sorts of pretends. It was my private, special place. I was eleven. Then one day, he was waiting for me and he made me do things to him. Horrible things. I screamed, but no one could hear me. It was impossible to get away from him. He told me if I told anyone, especially my parents, he would take all my father's money away and we would have to leave our home. That I would have to go into an orphanage.'
“He was a monster!”
Audrey nodded. 'I didn't believe the part about the orphanage, but I did about the money. I was an only child and a bit old for my years, in spite of my dolls, and I knew what this business meant to my father. He hadn't been particularly successful before. So I never said anything. I was very careful never to be alone with Alden, and I never went back to my special place, but he forced himself on me three more times—once in my own bedroom.'
“Oh, Audrey, how horrible!'
“The day Daddy said he'd accepted Alden's offer and would no longer be involved in the business was the happiest day of my life. I thought we wouldn't see each other anymore, and gradually that is what happened. Yet from the first moment he made me touch him, I swore I would get even.”
And how did you do that? The question hung in the air. It was difficult to imagine this small woman, who looked more like one of her daughters in a pair of Guess jeans and a striped turtleneck, wielding a piece of lumber with such deadly accuracy, but years of rage may have granted her the power.
“I didn't kill him.' She spoke almost wistfully. 'I've thought about it so often over the years that it was what finally pushed me into therapy. I had told James. Told him even before we married. That's another thing Alden stole—years of sexual enjoyment. James wanted to go to Alden immediately, hurt him. But my parents were both alive—still are. Alden Spaulding had done enough. I couldn't have Mother and Dad find out after all those years. They would have felt so helpless and guilty. And now I'm the parent.”
Faith shifted Amy. The baby was getting drowsy and becoming heavier as she relaxed.
“I thought of sending anonymous threatening letters to frighten him, except I was afraid he'd hire detectives and I'd get caught. So I did little things. Like the coffee urn. It's made me feel better. But the big revenge was the election. As soon as I heard he was running, I begged James to run. I wanted to see Alden lose. I wanted him to be humiliated. It wasn't rational. Probably, if anything, it was Penny's chances we were hurting.'
“Actually, once Alden started his vicious campaign against Penny, it was a godsend James was running.'
“I hadn't thought of that. Anyway, that's my story. I wanted to go to the cemetery and laugh at his grave, but I couldn't even make it through the service. And all I've done since I came home is cry”
Audrey was crying now. Crying for that little girl who was robbed of her innocence and the feeling of being safe that is every child's right. Crying for that adult woman whose sexuality and first moments of motherhood were compromised.
“The kids are going to be home soon. I don't want them to see me like this.' She grabbed another tissue. 'I suppose you have to tell the police?' It was definitely a question.
And Faith didn't know the answer. Nor did she know the answer to the larger question: f Penny or Audrey hadn't killed Alden Spaulding, who had?
She reflected a moment. She didn't intend to reveal Penny's whereabouts until the next day. She also didn't intend to reveal what Penny had told them about Alden ever, unless it was absolutely necessary. Audrey's confession—which Faith had sought—fell into the same category.
“I don't think there really is anything to tell the po- lice at this point. What happened was in the past. Maybe we can keep it that way.”
Audrey looked enormously relieved. 'I wasn't happy to see you pull up outside, but now I think you are a kind of angel. I'll be telling James everything when he comes home. We don't keep anything from each other, and it's possible he may look at this in another way, though I hope not.”
