Locust Lane(32)

And so she moved out to Emerson. She and Danielle took a time-out, as they called it nowadays. Eden was also, by her own admission, taking a breather from the boys who’d always been such a big part of her life. As the days and weeks passed, it became harder and harder to argue with Betsy’s assessment that everything was just grand. Danielle only visited a few times, the last being just over a month earlier. And Eden did not come home at all. But that was fine. She needed to start figuring out how to look after herself and this was a good, safe place to start. Everybody was happy with the arrangement. On the drive home from her last visit Danielle had even allowed herself to think she might be able to stop worrying about her daughter.

And now she was dead. Laid out on a gurney, her left eye like a squished raspberry.

Their own house suddenly uninhabitable, the Bondurants were staying with another elderly couple in one just as big as theirs. After profoundly awkward hugs, the three of them gathered in a vast living room. The dog was there. It came toward Danielle to say hello.

“Thor, come here,” Betsy said, sensing the other woman’s discomfort.

Danielle noticed its limp as it retreated.

“We’re just so sorry,” Betsy said, for the fifth time in the last two minutes.

“I can’t imagine what happened,” Bill added.

“So what did the police tell you? They’re not telling me anything.”

“They weren’t very forthcoming with us, either,” Bill said. “We do know there was no forced entry. Which means that Eden must have let them in.”

“I don’t think she would have done that with a stranger.”

“No, it’s my impression that they’re thinking she knew the attacker.”

“Had she made any friends here?”

They exchanged a look.

“Well, yes, I believe she had,” Betsy said, a little stiffly.

“Did you meet them?”

“She was always pretty guarded about her personal life,” Bill said. “Especially after the party fiasco.”

“Party?”

“Didn’t she tell you about this?”

“No.”

He frowned.

“I specifically asked her to.”

“Okay, I’m kind of in the woods here.”

The Bondurants exchanged another glance.

“We attended a dinner in the city last month,” Betsy said. “We stayed overnight and wound up coming home first thing in the morning. It was clear when we arrived that she’d had herself quite the shindig. There’d been drinking and, well, I think they’d been smoking something. Things looked like they might have got out of hand.”

“There wasn’t any damage but there was certainly a mess,” Bill said. “Let’s just put it that way.”

“So we had a little sit-down the next day. We told her we didn’t mind if she had friends over but, you know, we’d rather know about it.”

“And underage drinking,” Bill added. “People can be pretty touchy about that nowadays.”

Goddammit, Eden.

“She promised she’d never do it again,” Betsy said, reading Danielle’s anger.

“And you don’t know who any of these people were?”

“Well, we didn’t actually see them, but Eden indicated they were kids from town,” Bill said.

“Presumably some of them will be coming forward,” Betsy added.

“Do you think something like that happened last night? A party?”

“Well, it’s impossible to know without getting into the house,” Bill said.

“What do the police say?”

He spread his hands. Something occurred to Danielle.

“Do you have security cameras?”

“No,” Bill said, wistfully. “There never seemed to be the need.”

They lapsed into a profound silence.

“I’m so sorry,” Betsy said. “We should have looked after her better.”

“Don’t say that. She loved you guys. You were incredibly generous.”

Betsy started to cry.

“I’m just thinking about Rick and how that was and I’m just so sorry.”

Danielle felt as if she should comfort her but Bill was already on it. He rose creakily and leaned over his wife and gathered her in a loose hug and spoke quietly to her. Danielle watched them, wishing she was far away from here.

“Is there anything you need help with?” Bill asked when his wife had gathered herself. “I mean, in terms of arrangements?”

It took Danielle a moment to understand that he was talking about the funeral. Her immediate instinct was to politely decline, but that would lead to a conversation she didn’t have the energy for.

“That’s very kind of you.”

There were probably a thousand more questions she should ask, but she doubted she’d hear anything that wouldn’t frustrate her even further.

“She was an angel,” Betsy said suddenly.

There was a vehemence in her voice that caused both Danielle and Bill to rear back in surprise.

“I understand that she had her peculiarities but she was a good soul.”

“Bets,” her husband said.

“No, it’s true. I knew it the moment I met her. For someone to have done this … this? It’s just barbaric.”