Missing Pieces(32)

“I’m afraid not,” Gilmore said, and Sarah became increasingly alarmed. He held up a piece of paper. “We’ve got a warrant.”

“I think you better wait out on the porch. I’ll go upstairs and get Hal and Jack.” Gilmore didn’t argue, but Sarah also knew that the sheriff and his men weren’t planning on going anywhere.

Sarah turned on the living room lamps before she headed upstairs. The light warmed the room and made Gilmore’s unsettling visit seem more ominous. Suddenly, she knew exactly why Gilmore was here at this early hour and she hated him for it.

Her mind was racing. Foul play was suspected in the death of Julia, an object covered with what looked like blood had been found at Amy’s and now Amy was being questioned. Had more evidence been discovered? Surely it was too soon for Julia’s autopsy to be completed. Had Amy confessed to something? Sarah took the steps two at a time and stumbled, falling to one knee at the top of the landing. “Dammit,” she mumbled in embarrassment, and as she pushed herself to her feet, her eyes landed on the spot where the dark oak trim met the plastered wall.

She saw a small spatter of brown dots that looked like blood.

Sarah thought about what Amy had said about Julia being attacked before falling down the stairs. Or was it Jack who had said this? She couldn’t remember. She bent down and ran her fingers along the hardwood floor, looking for any clue into what happened to Julia on these stairs. There was one deep gouge about three inches long and two inches wide, but it was an old house, an old floor. The gash could have been there for years. Her eyes traveled upward from the baseboard to the wall. Tiny, dark spots freckled the plaster. She moved even closer. It definitely could be blood, she thought.

She decided to wake Jack first. “Jack, Jack,” she said, and prodded him gently. His eyes fluttered open and landed sleepily on her. “Everything’s okay,” she began, not wanting to alarm him. “The sheriff is downstairs. He wants to talk to you and Hal. He has a warrant.”

“Sheriff Gilmore?” Jack asked blearily. “Here? What time is it?”

“Six,” Sarah said, handing Jack his pants. “He has two deputies with him.”

Jack immediately became alert and sat upright. “Let me handle this. Let Hal sleep. He doesn’t need to deal with this today.”

“He told me to get Hal.”

“Dammit,” Jack muttered. “Why can’t we grieve in peace? Can you wake him up?”

“Jack.” She grabbed his elbow. “There’s blood on the stairs.”

“What?” he asked as he pulled on a pair of jeans.

“At the top of the steps and on the wall. I think there’s blood.”

Jack stuffed his shirt into his pants. “Is it noticeable?”

“No, there’s just a little bit, if that’s what it even is.” Sarah hugged her arms close to her.

“Don’t say anything to Gilmore,” he said shortly.

“But what if it has something to do with Julia’s fall?” Sarah asked.

“It’s probably nothing. Did he say anything about Amy?”

Sarah shook her head. “Just that she’s okay.”

“Go ahead and wake Hal,” he said firmly. “And don’t say anything about the blood on the steps.”

Sarah watched him leave the room. Didn’t he want to know what had happened to his aunt? Was it more important to protect the person who might have hurt her, even if it was Amy?

She heard Jack greet the sheriff and walked quickly to Hal’s room. He was sleeping soundly, one arm flung to the empty side of the bed as if he fell asleep reaching for his wife.

“Hal,” Sarah said as she roused him. “Sheriff Gilmore is here. I think he wants to search the house.”

“What? Why?” Hal sat up and turned on the lamp on his bedside table. He reached for his glasses and slid them onto his face, magnifying his red and swollen eyes.

“They must be investigating Julia’s fall. He wants you to come downstairs.”

He swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. They were thin and lined with spidery purple veins. His large, round stomach hung heavily over the elastic band of his boxer shorts and his hands clutched the mattress on either side of him as if to help keep him upright. “Does it have something to do with what they found at Amy’s house? Do they really think she could have hurt Julia?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah finally said out loud. “Do you think Amy could have hurt her?” she dared to ask.

Hal stood, and the hardwood floor creaked beneath his bare feet. “Of course not,” he said emphatically, and Sarah wondered if he was trying to convince himself as much as Sarah.

While Hal dressed, Sarah went to the bathroom to quickly wash her face and brush her teeth. She turned on the tap, scrubbed her hands under the hot water and looked at herself in the vanity over the sink. She looked the way she felt, which was downright haggard. The trip and lack of sound sleep had left her skin dry and her lips cracked. Her hair, usually smooth and shiny, was dull and frizzed, and she futilely tried to pat it down with her fingers.

She glanced around in search of a hand towel and in the corner noticed a wicker basket lined with Spanish moss and filled with what Sarah could only describe as old farm tools. A small pulley, a rusty hand trowel, a worn leather tape measure and several other items that Sarah couldn’t identify. One spot stood glaringly empty, as if one of the tools had been removed. Sarah flashed on the bloody object found in Amy’s home. Wouldn’t it have fit perfectly within the empty space? What if Amy, in a fit of rage, pulled the bale hook from the basket and attacked Julia at the top of the steps?