I looked up at him from my five foot minus. It worked.
Marcy and Virginia told Officer Finch that Ford had taken the first swing. I wasn’t surprised at Marcy’s testimony, but Virginia agreeing … that startled me.
Not that I was going to object.
The small living room grew so crowded that Finch gestured Aubrey and me outside. Another officer joined us.
Finch and his partner had been asked to watch Marcy’s house by the Lawrenceton police, and they were quick to call SPACOLEC to say they had Ford in custody. “And you can call off the search for Virginia Mitchell. She’s sitting in her mother’s house, crying,” Finch added. When he’d finished the conversation, Finch wore a different face. There was no humor in it whatsoever.
“Your Detective Suit will be here in fifteen, twenty, minutes,” he said.
Ford was taken to the hospital in handcuffs, Virginia trailing behind him as far as the car, still weeping. Marcy came out to ask the police if they wanted some sweet tea.
Then Robin’s car pulled to the curb, and he jumped out. There was no romantic rush across the yard to draw me into his arms, because he had to extricate Sophie from her car seat. She was bawling at gale force.
I felt that strange prickling in my chest, triggered by her wail. Just like Pavlov’s dog, I thought. Officer Finch was surprised to see a man holding a screaming infant hurrying up from the curb. The policeman held up his hand in the universal “stop” gesture.
“I have the baby,” Robin said, apparently thinking that was explanation enough. “It’s feeding time.”
Damp spots appeared on the front of my red T-shirt.
Officer Finch turned bright red and tried to keep his eyes above my neck.
“You go sit in the car and take care of that little baby, ma’am,” Finch said.
“Thanks.” I didn’t waste any time.
Within seconds, Robin and I were sitting in the front seat, I had a receiving blanket covering the action, and both Sophie and I were very relieved. “That feels so much better,” I said. I now carried only one rock on my chest instead of two.
“I got worried when I didn’t hear from you, and then Phillip came home and said someone had told him Virginia had been found, on Instagram. How do they do it? I knew where you were going, so I came here as fast as I could. Tell me about it.”
So I did.
Robin made appropriate noises of amazement, horror, and admiration. But when I was finished, he said, “Never again. Roe, you were in danger. I blame Aubrey, you bet I do, because he brought you over here. But why the hell didn’t you hit 911 the minute you saw her sitting on the couch?”
Because it had not occurred to me. I’d wanted to hear her story. After a moment of silence, I admitted that.
“Okay, I can understand that you were blindsided by the shock. But you hit him.”
“I had to jump high to do it, too,” I said, with what I felt was pardonable pride. “I hung air. Is that the right usage?”
Robin nodded, with the air of a man who was keeping a rein on himself by the narrowest of margins.
With a sigh of relief, I switched Sophie to the other breast. Her eyes closed, she resumed her favorite activity. She was still enthusiastic, but she was slowing down.
“Honey, you were in real danger.” Robin was using the level, reasonable voice that indicated he was really upset. “What would have happened if he’d had a gun or a knife?”
“If he’d had a gun or a knife, he’d have threatened us with it right away,” I said. “I’m not a total idiot. But I just lost it. When he was going to sock Aubrey, I thought, He’s not getting to be the boss of this situation. And before I knew it, I jumped and I really, really hit him. It felt great. Emotionally, that is. I think my hand is going to be real sore tomorrow.”
“I love you,” Robin said, and I looked up from Sophie’s intent little face to meet his bright blue eyes.
My little shell of bravado cracked and fell apart. “I love you, too,” I said.
“If you’re ever in danger again, please think twice,” he said, in such an earnest voice that I almost cried. “This won’t be funny, to me or Sophie, if something happens to you.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to me, but somehow stuff always does,” I said. “I got so angry. With people blaming us somehow because Tracy died in our yard. With people thinking somehow we were implicated. And she took your sweater!”
Robin looked startled. “But clearly, I couldn’t have done it.”
I nodded. “I know that, and you know that, and the police know that. But people were talking. I couldn’t stand them thinking wrong things about you, I’ve really wanted to hit someone for days. Finally, there was someone who needed to be hit.”
This time his mouth crinkled up at the corners. “But not again,” he reminded me. “I suppose the rumors were triggered by Jonathan Cohen saying he saw me that night? I must be a criminal mastermind and able to warp time.”
“Yes, it’s ridiculous. But the person who did kill Tracy must not have been far when she was found. Think about it. Within minutes, the yard was empty except for the body. Without your sweater. And Virginia didn’t see or hear anyone, at least that’s what she said.”
“What are the odds that we’d have two prowlers on the same night?” Robin said slowly.
“Even for someone with my luck, that’s simply unbelievable.”
“You’re saying that the murderer must live close.”
Sophie’s mouth had fallen open to release me, and she was out cold. I slid her into an upright position and began patting her on the back. Almost immediately she gave one of her huge burps. Her eyes fluttered open for a second, but she could not manage to stay awake. All that wailing had worn her out.
I knew how she felt. My rush of adrenaline had receded, leaving me feeling almost supernaturally calm and drained. Well, these days, I was used to feeling drained.
“What do you think really happened?” Robin said.
“I’m working it out in my head. I’m not trying to be mysterious, but there’s a thread of an idea tugging at me. Virginia sounds innocent to me. If she caught Tracy in the house and Tracy threatened her, Virginia would defend herself, I guess. But she wouldn’t chase Tracy out in the yard and bash her over the head. Not her house, not her yard … not her baby.”
“No,” Robin said absently. “She wouldn’t do that. And Ford, whatever else he may have done, is in the clear, too. He left—the first time—before Virginia encountered Tracy.”
We looked at each other thoughtfully.
Finally, I smiled. “So Virginia wasn’t murdered, Ford was the tall thin guy who went in our backyard, and it’s good to know those things. I can’t figure out anything else until the dust settles in my brain.”
He smiled back. “Think we can go home now? I left Phillip to answer the phone, but he’s pretty worried about you.”
“I’ll ask Officer Finch.”