All the Beautiful Lies(63)



When he was done with the dishes, he came into the living room to find her sprawled on the couch, head tilted back, passed out. The glass that had held the brandy and ginger ale was on the coffee table. It was empty, except for three slivers of ice and one swallow of liquid. He swirled the glass, and was able to see the dregs of the crushed pills. He had done a poor job mixing the Valium into the drink, but it hadn’t mattered. Edith had drunk it anyway.

He rinsed the glass in the sink, then put it in the dishwasher and started the cycle. He was planning on watching television, waiting to see what would happen to Edith, but he was too keyed up. He turned the television on, just for the noise, then straightened up the living room, returning to the kitchen to do a thorough clean of the junk drawer, something he’d been meaning to do for a while.

He was consolidating rubber bands, twisting them into a tight ball, when he heard the gagging sounds coming from the living room. He entered to find Edith’s body bucking slightly on the couch, vomit bubbling up from between her lips. Her head was tipped back, and she was choking. He watched, dispassionately, then heard footsteps on the outdoor stairs, and the click of a key in a lock. He hesitated, not knowing if he should bolt from the room, or try to start reviving Edith. He bolted, going halfway up the stairs into the shadows, as Alice entered the condo. He heard the door shut behind her, her steps, and then heard another wheezing breath from Edith. He thought he’d hear Alice rush to her side, maybe she’d shout for help, but he heard nothing. He moved down the steps as quietly as he could, and watched Alice watch her mother die. There was a peculiar look on her face as she watched—it wasn’t indecision or happiness. It looked like pity, and something else. Disinterest, almost. Or disgust.

She turned and caught Jake watching her, and for a sliver of a moment Jake felt like there was a telepathic acknowledgment of what was happening. Then Alice said something about an ambulance and Jake ran to the wall phone.





Chapter 26





Now



Unable to sleep any longer, Caitlin got out of the motel bed at just past six in the morning. She hadn’t brought her running clothes or her good sneakers, but she did have sneakers with her, and a pair of khaki shorts that weren’t really for exercising but would have to do.

She desperately wanted to go for a run, to exhaust herself physically. She’d slept some the night before, but only in short, troubled bursts, her skin itching with tension and her body aching with grief.

It was cool outside, the sky a flat, milky white. She was vaguely aware of where the ocean was and headed in that direction, not even stretching first. She spotted a sign that pointed her toward Kennewick Village. It was up a hill on a road without a sidewalk that was lined with pine trees. She ran on the gravel embankment, her lungs starting to hurt a little, her muscles stinging. By the time she reached the top of the hill, a thin layer of sweat covered her skin. In the distance she could make out a strip of the ocean, a hazy, half-shrouded sun above it. She passed the few shops and restaurants of the village, then started downhill toward the shore, not stopping even when she felt that familiar pinch in the joint of her left knee.

She stopped only when she reached the beach, a long crescent that ran along a road. It was empty except for one distant figure on the far end, hurling a tennis ball for a dog. She sat on the edge of the stone wall that overlooked the sea, and took deep, ragged breaths. The sun was burning through the thin layer of cloud and causing spots to swim in Caitlin’s vision. She was light-headed, and she thought about how little she had eaten in the previous twenty-four hours. Still, she felt better after the run than she’d felt in the past few days.

When her heartbeat had slowed down, she turned and began to walk back toward the motel. She’d made up her mind on the run. She’d travel back with Grace on the plane the following day, if she could still get a reservation. It meant another day in Maine, another day alone in the town where Grace had died, but she could handle it. She’d call her mother as soon as she got back to the motel.

Once the decision was made, she felt relieved. And now that she had a day to kill, she thought about Harry. She wanted to see him again. Talking with him at the diner the previous afternoon had helped her. Some of that had to do with how grief-stricken he seemed, not just by his father’s death, but by Grace’s as well, and some of that was because she’d felt so instantly comfortable with him. She thought of Grace’s last e-mail, in which she’d written how cute Harry was, although Caitlin assumed that she was simply transferring whatever she felt for his father onto him. Caitlin and Grace had never been attracted to the same men. Grace, since their father’s abandonment, had always fixated on older men, or, if not older, then men who were quiet and distant, men who were challenging. Caitlin, less assertive, had always been drawn to gregarious boys, sporty types who told jokes, and treated her like one of the boys.

Reaching Kennewick Village, Caitlin spotted a bakery that appeared to be open. She bought a large coffee and a maple scone, then sat outside on a bench and ate the scone while waiting for the coffee to cool down enough to drink. The sweat had dried on her skin, and her legs and arms had broken out in goose bumps in the cool air. She crossed the street to a bench that was in the sun, which had now entirely broken free of the clouds. From her new position she could see a row of shops, including one that had books in the window. It must be Bill Ackerson’s store, she thought. After warming up in the sun, she walked over and looked through the window. It was Ackerson’s, and it was dark inside, not surprising this early in the morning. She watched as a bushy cat padded toward the glass front door, looked up at her, and opened its mouth. She couldn’t hear the meow through the door. Something about the plaintive look on the cat’s face made her feel a sudden stab of emptiness. She thought again of Harry.

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