After a few minutes, my mind began to wander. I thought about the night of the murder, picturing everything that had happened. It had worked so well when Robin had suggested I picture everyone in the ICU; maybe it would be helpful, again.
This felt oddly like a board game set out for last Saturday night.
My token would be in the square representing our bedroom, and it would not move. Sarah’s would have gone down the sidewalk. Phillip’s was stationary, as was Sophie’s. I assumed Virginia had been roaming the house, with the nursery monitor in one hand and her telephone in the other, so I pictured her token zigzagging around in an unpredictable way. But then Tracy had arrived on the scene, somehow, steered by some unfathomable purpose. Her token (red) would suddenly appear over the edge of the board.
I moved these tokens around in my head. Had Virginia been in the house when Tracy came in? Surely they would have had a noisy confrontation, if that had been the case. I was working on the assumption the two had never met, that Virginia would raise an alarm if she encountered a stranger in our house. That was what I believed, based on nothing but gut feeling.
How had Tracy gotten in the house? I should have asked myself that question days ago. Obviously, one of the doors had been unlocked. Had Virginia simply been careless, or had she been complicit? Had Tracy known she could get in? Surely she hadn’t been coming by the house, testing the doors … that idea made my skin crawl.
Robin came in, moving quietly. He sat on the stool of the rocking chair, and whispered, “How did Tracy get in?”
And that was another reason we were married. “Exactly!” I said, but in a hushed voice. I told Robin what I’d been thinking.
“If she’d been lurking for a few nights, I’d think we’d have seen her, or one of our neighbors would have,” he said. “The Herman sisters are always out late at night with Chaka. I’ve seen them when I was up with Sophie.”
When Sophie wasn’t ready to go back to sleep after she fed, Robin liked to wander around with her in his arms, gently jiggling her (and singing to her when he thought I wasn’t listening).
“So maybe this was the first time she’d tried to get in. Assuming she took her sister’s car, where is it now?”
“I don’t think the police have found the car,” Robin said slowly. “We would have heard?”
“At the very least, the Cohens would have heard and come over to tell us all about it.”
Robin nodded. “So we need to find out how she came to be in our backyard at all.”
Chapter Seventeen
As if the universe had heard us, but slowly, the landline rang early the next morning just after Phillip had left for school. Robin, showered and dressed, picked up the phone in our bedroom. He came into Sophie’s room with the phone to his ear, conveying his astonishment by waggling his eyebrows.
“Mrs. Beal,” he said, looking at me significantly.
I pantomimed amazement. Why would Tracy’s mom be calling us?
“Yes, I’m Robin Crusoe.” He listened. “Yes, I’m sure this whole thing has been a shock to you. Us, too.”
What an unexpected turn of events.
Moving carefully, I rose to place Sophie in her crib. Robin and I left her to her sleep. He was still talking as we went across the hall. Though I was intensely curious, I needed to shower. I had some errands to run, but mostly I wanted to get out of the house for a while.
Though I take short showers, I was slightly surprised to find Robin still talking to Mrs. Beal when I turned off the water.
“No ma’am, we didn’t hear anything. I was out of town, and my wife was sick in bed with the flu. That’s why we had a babysitter here. Yes, she’s still missing. I don’t have any idea why Virginia would harm Tracy. I’m not sure she did. We won’t know what actually happened until Virginia shows up.”
Robin listened, the corners of his mouth turning down. He rolled his eyes at me. “Well, Mrs. Beal—okay, Sandra—I don’t know why Tracy had strong feelings for me. And I’m sorry that made her behave like … ah, got her into so much trouble. I’m hoping the police can get to the bottom of her death.” He listened. “Since we’re talking, may I ask you a question?”
Evidently Tracy’s mom agreed. Robin continued, “I know Tracy left the hospital when she wasn’t supposed to. I understand she took her sister’s car?” He listened for a minute or two. “Um-hum. Um-hum. Well, we’d just wondered if the police had found the car. They haven’t? Well, I agree, that’s really strange. Yes, I’m sure Sharon’s missing her car.”
Robin did some more listening, made sounds of agreement or sympathy here and there, and finally hung up with obvious relief.
“So?” I was anxious to hear a summary.
“As you can tell, Sandra Beal is prone to oversharing. I learned that she’s divorced, that Tracy was her second daughter, that Mrs. Beal can’t understand this whole thing. She didn’t know Tracy had escaped from the hospital until hours after it happened. And of course, Sharon didn’t know Tracy had walked off the hospital grounds. Sharon was camping. Sharon didn’t get home for two more days. Then she reported her car missing.” He thought for a minute, reviewing the conversation. “Oh. Tracy knew where Sharon kept a spare set of keys. Because they were sisters.”
“What kind of car is it?”
“A silver Nissan Sentra. Bought at the year-end closeout, so Sharon got a really good deal on it.” Robin shuddered, just a little.
“Sandra told all this to you, the man her daughter was stalking.” I shook my head. “I’m amazed.”
“The woman’s so stunned by having a daughter as disturbed as Tracy, she was glad to have someone to talk to. Sandra doesn’t seem very smart, frankly, and she hasn’t been able to track down her ex to tell him about Tracy. She’s very unhappy all the way around.”
“I’ll try to feel sorry for her.” Just at the moment, I was out of pity.
Robin grinned at me. “Don’t apologize to me for any lack of feeling. I have sympathy for the woman, but I was counting the seconds until I could get off the phone. And someone at SPACOLEC gave Sandra Beal my phone number,” he added grimly. “Our landline is unlisted. I’m still wondering who gave it to the reporters who called.”
“That’s really disturbing. Sounds like after talking to Sandra, you could kind of feel where Tracy had gotten the wobbly mind.”
He eased down on the bed beside me as I pulled my sweater over my head. “I sure don’t think most mothers would have wanted to tell me so much. Or to talk to me at all.”
I nodded in agreement as I began to brush my hair. “I wonder why the police haven’t found the car. Could Tracy have hidden it somewhere? Why would she do that? I’d think she’d park it as close as possible, for a quick getaway. In case one of us raised the alarm.”
“We can’t know what she imagined would happen.”
I tried to figure that out but gave up very quickly. It made me shiver all over.