Dovetail: A Novel(88)

She pulled on John’s arm. “Let’s go,” she said. “It’s getting late. We can row back, and you can drive Pearl and me home. We can talk tomorrow if you want, Frank. I’m getting tired, and I want to go home.”

Both men were locked in a stare and didn’t waver. “Put away the gun, Frank,” John said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “You’re scaring Alice.”

“Looks like I’m scaring you too.” He waved the gun again.

Pearl went up to Alice and slipped her hand through the crook of her elbow. “Let’s take the boat back to the dance and let the gentlemen settle this themselves. It’s getting late.”

Alice wasn’t going anywhere without John. “This has to stop, Frank. I am in love with John, and we are going to get married. There is nothing you can do about it.”

Frank shook with anger. “Nothing I can do about it? That’s where you’re wrong, Alice.” He cocked the gun. “You will never marry him.”

“That’s enough, Frank.” John kept his voice even.

“Not enough for me,” Frank said. “You aren’t gonna be fit for pigs to eat by the time I’m through with you.”

Alice wrenched her arm away from Pearl and rushed forward, putting herself between Frank and John and grabbing at the barrel of the gun. The word no was barely past her lips when the gun went off. The deafening bang overshadowed everything else, and she fell back into John’s arms, setting off a profusion of sounds.

Screams from Pearl.

An utterance of profanity from Frank.

A cry from John.

There was despair on John’s face as he held her, sitting on the ground, frantically pressing on the front of her dress to try to stop the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Alice. Just keep breathing,” he said. “You’re going to be fine. Just stay here.”

The last thing she wanted was to leave him, but she felt herself weakening, her grip on this world slipping as she was pulled into the next.

“I love you, Alice,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “Don’t leave me.”

She tried to tell him she loved him too, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate, and the light called to her with a pull stronger than her own will. She began to shake, and now, despite the sticky night air, she felt cold, so cold.

One second she was there lying on the ground, her eyelids flickering, breath ragged, and love in her heart.

The next second her body was limp and lifeless.

She was gone.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE





1916


And then it was quiet, so quiet, only the chirping of insects to interrupt the silence.

“She’s dead,” John said, sobbing. “You killed her.”

“No,” Pearl said in shock. How could that be? Alice had been fine only a minute ago, and now she was dead? No. It was unfathomable. She stared down at John, who held Alice in his arms, blood everywhere. “Someone has to do something.” She knelt next to her sister and frantically said, “Alice? Can you hear me?” She looked up at Frank. “We have to get her to the doctor. Right away.”

Tears streamed down John’s face; he pressed his lips against Alice’s head and rocked her in his arms. “It’s too late. She’s gone.”

A few feet away, Frank turned his back and dropped to a crouch, cradling his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. She shouldn’t have stepped in front of me and grabbed the gun.”

“You didn’t have to shoot her!” Pearl cried out. “Why’d you pull the trigger?”

Frank said, “Dammit, Pearl, this was your idea. I’m not going to jail for this. I’m telling them it was you.”

“Me? Shoot my own sister with your gun? You bastard. No one will believe you.” She began to wail, tears streaming from her eyes.

John interrupted. “I’m taking her home.” He scooped Alice up and started to stand, then staggered back. “I think . . .” He looked down at the front of his white shirt, now stained bright with blood. “I think it got me too.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX





1983


Impressively enough, Kathleen rowed all the way to the island. Joe watched her elegant strokes, perfectly in rhythm.

“Quite the biceps you’ve got there, Miss Dinsmore,” Joe said as they approached the opposite shore. “I could get used to this.” He leaned over one side of the boat, a hand trailing in the cool water while he admired her determination.

“Moving furniture at the store does more for me than Jane Fonda’s Workout. I do a lot of heavy lifting. I’m strong.” To his amusement, she paused to flex, then went back to rowing. “I’ll let you row on the way back, though.”

“Fair enough.” He watched the reflection of the moon on the lake. “I’m looking forward to seeing those turtles you mentioned, unless you don’t think they’ll be out at night.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You remember me talking about the turtles?”

“Of course. You and your mom fed them worms from a Styrofoam cup. You told me about it the first time we ate lunch at the Pine Cone.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”