something in Nancy by demanding she celebrate?… And then that article. Had…?

'No!' Ray looked up and blinked, turning his head away from the sight of the policeman standing by the back door.

'What is it?' Chief Coffin asked.

' Nancy is incapable of harming the children. Whatever happened, it wasn't that.'

'Your wife when she's herself wouldn't harm them, but I've seen women go off the deep end, and there is the history…'

Ray stood up. His hands clenched the edge of the table. His glance went past the Chief, dismissing him. 'I need help,' he said. 'Real help.'

The room was in chaos. The police had made a quick search of the house before concentrating on the outside. A police photographer was still taking pictures of the kitchen, where the coffeepot had fallen, spewing streams of black coffee on the stove and floor. The telephone rang incessantly. To every call the policeman answering said, 'The Chief will make a statement later.'

The policeman at the phone came over to the table. 'That was the AP,' he said. 'The wire services have got hold of this. We'll be mobbed in an hour.'

The wire services. Ray remembered the haunted look that had only gradually left Nancy 's face. He thought of the picture in this morning's paper, with her hand up as though trying to fend off blows. He pushed past Chief Coffin and hurried upstairs, opening the door of the master bedroom. The doctor was sitting next to Nancy, holding her hands. 'You can hear me, Nancy,' he was saying. 'You know you can hear me. Ray is here. He's very worried about you. Talk to him, Nancy.'

Her eyes were closed. Dorothy had helped Ray strip off the wet clothes. They'd put a fluffy yellow robe on her, but she seemed curiously small and inert inside it – not unlike a child herself.

Ray bent over her. 'Honey, please, you've got to help the children. We've got to find them. They need you. Try, Nancy – please try.'

'Ray, I wouldn't,' Dr Smathers warned. His lined, sensitive face was deeply creased. 'She's had some kind of terrible shock – whether it was reading the article or something else. Her mind is fighting confronting it.'

'But we've got to know what it was,' Ray said intently. 'Maybe she even saw someone take the children away. Nancy, I know. I understand. It's all right about the newspaper. We'll face that together. But, darling, where are the children? You must help us find them. Do you think they went near the lake?'

Nancy shuddered. A strangled cry came from somewhere in her throat. Her lips formed words: 'Find them… find them.'

'We will find them. But you must help, please. Honey, I'm going to help you sit up. You can. Now, come on.'

Ray leaned down and supported her in his arms. He saw the raw skin on her face where the sand had burned it. There was wet sand still clinging to her hair. Why? Unless…

'I gave her a shot,' the doctor said. 'It should relieve the anxiety, but it won't be enough to knock her out.'

She felt so heavy and vague. This was the way she'd felt for such a long time – from the night Mother died… or maybe even before that – so defenceless, so pliable… so without ability to choose or move or even speak. She could remember how so many nights her eyes would be glued together – so heavy, so weary. Carl had been so patient with her. He had done everything for her. She had always told herself that she had to get stronger, had to overcome this terrible lethargy, but she never could.

But that was so long ago. She didn't think about that any more – not about Carl; not about the children; not about Rob Legler, the handsome student who'd seemed to like her, who made her laugh. The children had been so gay when he was there, so happy. She had thought he was a real friend – but then he sat on the witness stand and said, 'She told me that her children would be smothered. That was exactly what she said, four days before they disappeared.'

' Nancy. Please. Nancy. Why did you go to the lake?'

She heard the stifled sound she made. The lake. Did the children go there? She must search for them.

She felt Ray lifting her and slumped against him, but then forced her body to begin to sit up. It would be so much easier to slip away, to slide into sleep just as she used to do.

'That's it. That's right, Nancy.' Ray looked at the doctor. 'Do you think a cup of coffee…?'

The doctor nodded. 'I'll ask Dorothy to make it.'

Coffee. She'd been making coffee when she saw that picture in the paper. Nancy opened her eyes. 'Ray,' she whispered, 'They'll know. Everyone will know. You can't hide… you can't hide.' But there was something else. 'The children.' She clutched his arm. 'Ray, find them -find my babies.'

'Steady, honey. That's where we need you. You've got to tell us. Every single thing. Just get your bearing for a few minutes.'

Dorothy came in with a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. 'I made the instant. How is she?'

'She's coming round.'

'Captain Coffin is anxious to begin questioning her.'

'Ray!' Panic made Nancy clutch Ray's arm.

'Darling, it's just that we have to have help finding the children. It's all right.'

She gulped the coffee, welcoming the searing, hot taste as she swallowed it. If she could just think… just wake up… just lose this terrible sleepiness.

Her voice. She could talk now. Her lips felt rubbery, thick, spongelike. But she had to talk… make them find the children. She wanted to go downstairs. She mustn't stay here… like last time… waiting in her room… unable to go downstairs… to see all the people downstairs… the policeman… the faculty wives… Are there any relatives?… Do you want us to call anyone?… No one… no one… no one…

Leaning heavily on Ray's arm, she stood up unsteadily. Ray. She had his arm to lean on now. His children. His children.

'Ray… I didn't hurt them…'

'Of course not, darling.'

The voice too soothing… the shocked sound. Of course he was shocked. He was wondering why she would deny it. No good mother spoke of hurting her children. Why then did she…?

With a supreme effort she groped towards the door. His arm around her waist steadied her steps. She couldn't feel her feet. They weren't there. She wasn't there. It was one of the nightmares. In a few minutes she'd wake up, as she had so many nights, and slip out of bed and go in to see Missy and Michael and cover them and then get back into bed – softly, quietly, not waking Ray. But in sleep he'd reach out and his arms would pull her close, and against the warm scent of him she'd be calmed and sleep.

They started down the stairs. So many policemen. Everyone looking up… curiously still… suspended in time.

Chief Coffin was at the dining-room table. She could feel his hostility… It was like last time.

'Mrs Eldredge, how do you feel?'

A perfunctory question, non-caring. Probably he wouldn't have bothered to ask except that Ray was there.

'I'm all right.' She had never liked this man.

'We're searching for the children. I have every confidence that we'll find them quickly. But you must help us. When did you last see the children?'

'A few minutes before ten. I put them outside to play and went upstairs to make the beds.'

'How long were you upstairs?'

'Ten minutes… not more than fifteen.'

'Then what did you do?'

'I came downstairs. I was going to. turn on a wash and call the children. But after I started the wash, I decided to heat the coffee. Then I saw the boy deliver the community paper.'

'Did you speak to him?'

'No. I don't mean I saw him. I went to get the paper and he was just going around the corner.'

'I see. What happened then?'

'I went back into the kitchen. I turned on the coffeepot – it was still quite warm. I started turning the pages of the paper.'

'And you saw the article about yourself.'

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