I slammed the door and yanked the bolt across the top.
“Pass me the keys, Edwin,” I said.
Edwin’s eyes were wide, but he did as I asked.
A floorboard creaked again, and I heard Ruth’s bedroom door open. The gravel crunched outside, and from the window I watched Alex march away toward the lane, his hands raking through his hair as he went.
I ushered the boys back into the kitchen as Ruth plodded down the stairs. Her hands supported her bump, and she had a line down one cheek from a crease in her pillow.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Alex.”
“What did he want?”
I steeled myself to maintain eye contact. “He wanted to know if—” The boys were chattering quietly in the kitchen, but I was unable to form the words. I looked at her bump.
She sank down on the steps, her face a ghastly white.
“What did you say?” she asked.
I shook my head, my hands making a hopeless gesture.
“You told him? You told him, didn’t you?”
I closed my eyes, holding on to the doorframe.
Ruth wrapped her arms around her abdomen and rocked back and forth.
“What have you done?” she said.
“I’m sorry. He asked me outright. I couldn’t lie.”
Her gaze was unfocused as she rocked, and I’m not sure she even heard me. “What have I done?” she said. “What am I going to do?”
23
Seraphine
THE POLICE ARRIVEwhile Edwin and Joel are still upstairs. Martin Larch and a younger officer I don’t recognize. Danny introduces Kiara to Martin, and Martin gives her a searching look, and then glances at me.
“I knew your father, a long time ago,” Martin says to Kiara. “And he knew the lady who has just been assaulted. I’m rather interested to know why you happen to be here today?”
Kiara is jittery. “I have no idea what’s going on,” she says, and Danny puts a hand on her arm the same way he does to me when I’m upset.
Edwin and Joel clatter down the stairs.
“You’re the one who found Ms. Silveira, Dr. Harris?” Martin asks Joel.
Joel says, “Yes.” He’s had a shower and is wearing some of Edwin’s clothes. I examine him in brief glances, searching for an indication of guilt or innocence, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“It might have been better if you’d waited before washing,” Martin remarks. “Could you bring your clothes, please?”
Edwin starts to protest, but Joel waves a hand.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I’ll go and get them.”
The young police constable accompanies Joel back upstairs.
