The Last of the Moon Girls(105)
“Thanks, no. I’ve already had more than my share this morning.”
Evvie came bustling out of the kitchen, wearing a pair of bright-yellow rubber gloves. “Not so fast,” she said to Rhanna. “I need to add some more cleaning stuff to that list of yours. The more I scrub, the more that mess spreads. It’s like the Exxon Valdez ran aground in there.”
Lizzy ducked her head sheepishly and slid her eyes to Andrew. “I forgot to warn her about the fingerprint dust last night before we got home.”
“Oops.”
Another set of raps sounded on the front door, this time with the knocker. Rhanna pocketed her list and went to answer it. After several minutes of muffled conversation, she returned.
“It’s Helen Hanley, Lizzy. She’s out on the steps, asking to talk to you.”
Lizzy stared at her. She knew Helen had been notified of her brother-in-law’s death, but had no idea how many of the details had been shared, or how she’d taken the news.
Andrew pushed out of his chair. “You don’t need to talk to her if you’re not up to it, Lizzy. I can send her away.”
Lizzy flashed back to yesterday’s confrontation at the market, the silent plea in Helen’s eyes, the bruise she had tried, and failed, to cover. She had one of her own now to match it.
“No. Don’t send her away. I’ll talk to her.”
Evvie and Andrew exchanged glances but said nothing.
A few moments later, Helen stood in the parlor, her little girl perched solidly on one hip. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed, and she wore no makeup. The yellow-green bruise stood out in ugly relief against her cheek.
“I’m sorry I had to bring Kayla. I couldn’t get a sitter on short notice, and I didn’t want to wait.” Her hand came to her mouth, her eyes pooling with tears. “Oh my god . . . your face. This is all my fault.”
Lizzy sat up and patted the settee beside her. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Helen eased down onto the settee and folded her daughter into her lap. She was crying softly, swallowing sobs as she pushed the words out. “The police came last night. They told me about Dennis—about what he tried to do. I came to say I’m sorry.”
“It was Dennis, Helen. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I do,” Helen sobbed brokenly. “I’ve been a coward. All these years, I’ve let him bully me into keeping quiet, and last night he almost killed you.” She sniffled loudly, using the collar of her shirt to blot her tears. “I’m going to the police when I leave here. I should have done it last night, but I wanted to talk to you first, to look you in the eye and say I’m sorry. For what happened to you yesterday, and what happened to your family all those years ago. I should have ended it when Hollis died. I should have, but I didn’t.”
Andrew leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. “You’re talking about Heather and Darcy Gilman.”
Helen hung her head. “Hollis was a good man. He was simple and gentle, but he was broken too. Even before Afghanistan. But he was worse when he came home. He was withdrawn, and he had nightmares. He started drinking. I begged him to get help, to see someone, but he wouldn’t. Then I found out about a group that met over in Rochester. PTSD sufferers dealing with the things they’d seen and done. I finally convinced him to go. Then Dennis got wind of it, and that was that. He made it clear that I didn’t get a vote. It didn’t matter that my husband was a basket case, or that there was a little girl who needed her daddy to get better.”
She had begun to cry again. She wiped her eyes, flashing Kayla a Mommy’s all right smile before going on. “I was furious at him for letting Dennis push him around. One night he got drunk and we had a horrible fight. That’s when it came out.”
Lizzy knotted her hands in her lap, willing herself to be patient. She’d waited eight years to learn the truth. She could wait a few minutes more.
Kayla had begun to squirm in her mother’s lap. Helen jiggled her gently, then pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde head. When she was quiet again, Helen went on. “The summer the girls disappeared, Hollis and Dennis had started hanging out with them. Hollis was never a ladies man, so Dennis hooked them up. The four of them would go out riding around. Dennis would bring along a few bottles of smash.”
Lizzy frowned, unfamiliar with the word. “Smash?”
“A concoction of hard cider and homemade hooch. It’s cheap, and you don’t need an ID to buy it. Plus, it gets you drunk pretty fast. And according to Hollis, Heather liked to get drunk. She was kind of screwed-up. Had a lot going on at home, apparently. Dad stuff.”
Lizzy seized on the offhand remark. “Dad stuff?”
“She told Dennis she woke up one night and found her father standing over her bed, and that he was always walking in on her when she was getting dressed. He’d pretend it was an accident, but she said it happened all the time. One time, she came right out and told Dennis that’s why she was hanging out with him, because it drove her daddy crazy. Anyway, one night the four of them were riding around. They ended up back at old man Hanley’s place. Heather and Dennis went off on their own. Darcy stayed with Hollis in the car. But when Hollis started getting friendly, she got spooked. She said she needed to pee and wandered away. When she didn’t come back, Hollis went looking for her.”