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"Just what you told me," I said.
"Exactly. What did I tell you? Be specific. Go on. Imagine you're in the police station. What did Karen Stoker tell you about her stepfather?"
"That he came into your room at night."
"Her room," she corrected.
"Her room. That he groped her and then he forced himself on her, especially when her mother wasn't around."
"Didn't she tell her mother about all this?"
"She said she tried, but her mother wouldn't listen, and she was afraid the more she pushed it, the more her mother would think she was only trying to turn her against Harry. She said her mother even ignored him being violent. I did see a bruise on her arm one morning, and she wouldn't talk about it. She acted as if she was ashamed about it. Oh. That's when you told me about your headaches . . ."
"She told you."
"She told me, and she even went to the nurse because of them. I already told them that, but now I'm telling them why."
"Exactly. Perfect. So, there it is. Simple. You can't give any more detail than that, Zipporah. Nothing to it, really. Just tell it like you just told it to me, and that's it. It will be my mother's problem after that. She'll be the one under suspicion. They won't accept her denials and her see-no-evil, hear-no-evil routine. The nurse will confirm I was in her office. The right amount of suspicion will be raised. And if I know this town, it will leak out eventually, and the chatterboxes will be open. Darlene will speed up her departure, believe me," she added. "It's just a matter of a little more time."
She did make it sound so simple, so matter-offact and predictable. From where did she get such confidence? She should be more frightened and nervous than I was. She smiled, and then she yawned and stretched.
"I'm tired," she said. "It's been a long day. You must be exhausted, too, considering what you've been through. Let's both get some sleep."
She started for the door and stopped. "I heard your father say your brother was coming home earlier than expected. What was that bit about a new car?"
"My father's bought a sports car?'
"That you'll be able to drive; too, after you have your license?"
"Yes."
She stood there, thinking. I could see the envy washing through her face.
"And your brother will be here soon," she said, almost in a whisper to herself.
"Yes, he will. What will we do about that?"
She snapped back to attention. "Nothing. If we kept it all from your parents, why shouldn't we be able to keep it from him) Besides, he's not going to lie around the house, is he? He's supposed to go to work with your father's agency, right?"
"Right," I said.
"So there," she said, and opened the door.
"But how much longer can we do this, risk your being discovered?" I asked.
She thought a moment. "The house will protect me," she said.
"What?"
"Remember? Lucy Doral killed her husband in this house, and the house kept the secret."
She laughed silently and then slipped out the door. I watched her practically float up the stairway to the attic. She was that quiet. She opened and closed the door with as much noise as a breeze blowing through, and moments later, she was one with the darkness above and gone just like a dream.
Below, my father was laughing at something he had heard and seen on television. I didn't know what he was watching. I never paid much attention to it.
But Karen knew.
