The Fall of Never(41)

Again—something faltered behind her eyes. She knew, all right. But it was probably something she didn’t want to think about. And did he really have any right forcing her to, anyway? He’d offered up his story about getting shot with little protest, but it was evident that he had crossed over into territory Nellie Worthridge probably preferred remain untouched. For whatever reason.

We’ve started opening all the doors, now, he thought. All sorts of doors…

When she spoke, her speech came out garbled. “I’m aware that some things were said, that I said them to Dr. Mendes, which caused him to become quite upset. I can’t recall what I said, but I know I upset him and I am sorry for that. My mind was in another place at that time.”

“You were medicated and just suffered a stroke,” he said in her defense.

“Afterwards, I tried warming up to the man, but he couldn’t reciprocate. I’d frightened him, that was evident. But beyond that…well, there’s nothing I can do about any of that now.”

For a moment, Josh thought she was talking about something much bigger than what had transpired between her and the doctor. Something just beyond his own ability to perceive, perhaps, although old Nellie Worthridge could see it just fine.

“Kelly,” she said, snapping him back to reality.

“Kelly?” Hearing the old woman speak her name startled him.

“Is she all right?”

It occurred to him that Nellie did not know Kelly was out of town. She might have been feeling hurt Kelly hadn’t shown up at the hospital. “She’s left town for a while, went upstate. Her parents’ house, where she grew up.”

“Is everything all right?” She sounded very concerned, which bothered him for some reason. He felt like he was in the middle of an empty room, and the walls were all beginning to fall in on him at once.

“She’s fine.” And thought, Kelly doesn’t know about your stroke and you don’t know about Kelly’s sister nearly being killed. I’m like a safety deposit box for sad little truths.

“When will she be back?”

He told her he didn’t know.

“You’ve spoken to her since she’s left?”

“No,” he said, “I haven’t.” Then, for whatever reason prompted him to do so, he said, “Do you think she’s all right?”

Nellie Worthridge only sipped her coffee, using one hand. There was a look of concern in her eyes, too obvious to be denied. It glistened there like drops of water on old boards. It was ridiculous, thinking he could find solace in the words of an old woman, particularly when she knew nothing of his concerns. He didn’t even know…

“I hope so,” she said finally, and with no relief. “I hope so.”





Chapter Twelve


No one noticed DeVonn Rotley was missing until well into the afternoon. When the dogs started barking.

Kelly had slept a restless sleep the night before and awoke late in the afternoon, groggy and with a sore neck. She would have probably slept longer too, if it wasn’t for the incessant barking coming from the rear of the house. The sound yanked her from sleep and she sat up like a bolt, running her fingers through her matted hair. She leaned over the edge of the bed and peered out the window (noticing that her window, like Becky’s, was now cracked open, though she couldn’t remember if it had been that way when she’d gone to sleep last night). Yes, there were dogs barking. An entire platoon of them, by the sound. Faintly, in the distance, someone was calling DeVonn Rotley’s name. It was her father—and there was some semblance of his long-gone intensity in his voice this morning. After some time, she saw Glenda hurry around the front of the house lugging a sack of dog food on her hip.

Kelly looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was well after lunch time. She quickly dressed, unlocked her bedroom door (it was locked all night, she convinced herself, so how could anyone get in to crack open her window?), and slipped out into the upstairs hallway. Jiggling the knob on Becky’s bedroom door, she found it unlocked and poked her head inside. The room was quiet, the window shut. Very much like a porcelain doll, Becky Kellow rested with her bruised and sleeping head on a silk pillow.

Downstairs, she found her mother in the dining room, leafing through thick catalogues of flowers and sipping cognac. Some pastries had been set along the dining room table. Without looking up, her mother said, “I thought you would never wake. And locking your bedroom door—is that something you’ve become accustomed to from living in the city?”

“What’s that noise?”

“Those filthy hounds from hell,” her mother growled. “I don’t know where in the world Rotley’s disappeared to, but if someone doesn’t feed those dogs and shut them up quick, I’m going to go out there with your father’s hunting rifle and make peace with nature.”

Glenda swooped into the dining room from the kitchen entranceway, anxious to collect the uneaten pastries from the table. She saw Kelly standing disheveled in the doorway and smiled. “Looks like someone let the Baby out,” the woman chirped. “I’ve left some breakfast in the kitchen for you, dear. I’m afraid it’s cold now, but if you give me just a minute I can heat something up for you, after I take care of your sister.”

“I’m not hungry.” She went to the dining room windows, peered out. “You have dogs?”