His saccharine tone was just about making Lucy sick to her stomach. In fact, there was something about this whole meeting that was making her uncomfortable. She was beginning to feel trapped, like Hansel and Gretel in the witch’s house. Maybe it was the small room, maybe it was the sense of falseness that was beginning to unsettle her.
“None for me, thanks. I’m probably overreacting,” she said, getting to her feet. “Making a mountain out of a molehill.”
Coach Buck shook his head and rolled his chair closer to her, blocking the doorway. “Not at all. You’re concerned about your daughter and it’s very understandable.”
“Not just my daughter,” said Lucy, unable to stop the flow of words. “All the cheerleaders and the players, too. They’re at a very vulnerable age and this sort of thing is very damaging. It’s important they develop healthy self-images, that they learn to treat others with respect.” Feeling trapped, her eyes darted all around the room, looking for a way out. Spotting a photo of a bearded young man in a BU sweatshirt, she seized on it. “Is this you?” she asked, leaning over for a better look. As she’d hoped, Buck got out of his chair and joined her by the bookcase.
“It’s no secret I went to BU,” he said.
“My dad did, too,” lied Lucy. “On the GI Bill. Class of forty-nine. What year were you?”
“Seventy-five.”
“Turbulent times on college campuses,” she said. “You look as if you might’ve been a bit rebellious yourself.”
“The beard was as far as it went,” he said quickly. “And it didn’t last long. Too itchy. I shaved it off right after this picture was taken.”
Lucy was thinking that the young man in the photo looked a lot like the fugitive getaway car driver from the bank robbery in which Mimi’s father was killed, but dismissed the thought. Men with beards tended to look alike.
“I stayed clear of all that political stuff,” continued the coach. “I focused on sports. Never read the paper.”
“Right.” Lucy smiled. “Let’s work on this together,” she said, trying another tack. “Maybe we can get the parents together with you and the athletic director and try to figure out a solution. Not a big public meeting but just a quiet little get-together, completely off the record. I’m sure we can come up with something if we all put our heads together.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” he said, extending his hand.
Lucy took it, finding it surprisingly moist and limp. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” she said, stepping into the hall.
The narrow space felt claustrophobic, with the coach following her, and she found herself hurrying for the open space of the great room. Bonnie wasn’t there and Lucy assumed she was with the twins. She could hear their voices coming from another part of the house. They’d probably converted the basement into a playroom, she decided, stopping at the kitchen door.
“Thanks for everything,” she said.
“No problem,” said Buck, opening the door for her. “Coaching isn’t a nine-to-five job.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, stepping outside. “I feel much better now that we have a plan.”
“Me, too,” he said, closing the screen door behind her.
Outside, in the fresh air, Lucy did feel better, and she was optimistic that she could round up a group of parents who would be interested in working on a committee to develop a more positive sports program. Renee would help, and she was pretty sure Willie would, too. She would call the JV players’ moms, too. She was sure some of them would be willing to help. Raindrops began to plop down, dotting the ground with spots of damp and Lucy hurried along the cul-de-sac to the little path through the lilacs, hoping to get home before the rain started in earnest. Like everything else in the garden, the lilacs were definitely looking droopy and needed the rain. They were also a bit hoary with mildew and she reminded herself to put some lime on their roots as she raised her arm to push aside a leafy bough.
That’s when she saw Bonnie, still wearing those yellow rubber gloves, holding her carving knife.
CHAPTER 21
“I tried to warn you,” hissed Bonnie, her eyes glittering. Her jaw was clenched, revealing the cords in her neck, and she was gripping the knife handle so tightly that the yellow vinyl of the glove was stretched taut across her knuckles. “But you had to keep sticking your nose in.”
Lucy felt suddenly cold as the rain pattered down, plastering her hair to her head and soaking her shirt. She began to shiver and wrapped her arms protectively across her chest. She couldn’t believe it. Bonnie, the perfect housekeeper and mother of those adorable twins, was the last person she would suspect of murder.
Bonnie stepped closer, waving the knife dangerously. “Who do you think you are, threatening my husband?” she hissed.
“I didn’t threaten him,” said Lucy, taking a step backwards, feeling the ground growing slick beneath her feet and struggling to keep her voice calm and reasonable. She was beginning to regret letting the lilacs grow. If she’d cut them like Mimi had wanted, she wouldn’t be in this predicament, hidden from view and at the mercy of a mad-woman. She was convinced Bonnie was out of her mind. Only an insane woman would run around attacking neighbors with a kitchen knife.
“Oh, yes you did.” Bonnie stepped closer to Lucy, raising the knife. Her face was a mask of certainty. She was right and Lucy was wrong. “I heard you.”
“Bonnie, we were talking about the football team,” said Lucy, who was rapidly putting two and two together.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been out to get my husband from the day we moved in. Snooping around, just like that Mimi.”
Lucy had a sudden image of Mimi, with a knife very like the one Bonnie was holding sticking out of her back. She felt herself swaying, almost blacking out and forced herself to focus. Her life depended on it.
“Bonnie, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now put the knife down and go home and we can forget all about this,” she said. She was the voice of reason, even though she was shaking with terror; her heart was pounding so hard she thought it must be visible through her T-shirt and her mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out. “Think of your girls, Belle and Belinda. They need their mother.”
“That’s who I am thinking of,” snapped Bonnie. “They need a mother and a father.”
“Don’t you think you should get back to them? It’s almost lunchtime,” said Lucy.