“None. It’s beyond tragic. Hugh and Helene both had so much to live for. Hugh had his art and a wonderful wife. They had a child they loved. My niece, Callie.”
“It was incredibly fortunate that she happened to be staying with her aunt in the city for the weekend,” Wolf said.
Tobias nodded. “I’d spoken with Hugh on Saturday morning just as he was dropping her off downtown with Helene’s sister before heading out to Pequod. We lamented that our schedules didn’t permit our getting together this trip. If I hadn’t been so busy with the conference, I would’ve seen Hugh before . . .”
Tobias looked down. He paused and then cleared his throat. “Anyway. I thank the Lord for the fact that Callie wasn’t in that house with them. It was a miracle.”
“One bit of light for you in this dark time,” Wolf noted gravely.
“Yes. She’s a lovely child.”
“I’m sure I speak for many people when I say our hearts are with you.”
“Thank you, Wolf.”
Wolf returned the thanks and the show gave over to a boxing match promo.
Tobias had been in New York City over the weekend? Hugh would never have “lamented” not meeting with him. Hugh avoided his brother. He barely saw him after their parents died. We’d even been ambivalent about inviting him to our wedding.
I remembered how Hugh prepared me to meet Tobias for the first time.
“Tobias makes his living teaching biology laced with creationism at an evangelical school,” Hugh scoffed. “He married a local kindergarten teacher. They have one boy, Gideon, I assume named after the Bible.
“Don’t be surprised when he talks about Christ like he’s a member of the family. Or his superhero best friend,” Hugh warned. “We were baptized Lutheran, but only Toby took it seriously. Really seriously. Until he left for college, we shared a bedroom, and he’d harangue me at night by reading the Bible aloud. Or quoting religious scholars. I can still hear him reciting Martin Luther’s anti-Semitic screeds. ‘We must drive the Jews out like mad dogs, so that we do not become partakers of their abominable blasphemy.’ ‘Their breath stinks with lust for the Gentiles’ gold and silver . . .’ That’s the kind of religion Tobias is into.”
I could never look at Tobias without thinking about those words and resenting him.
Wolf Blitzer returned and introduced footage of Callie, who was holding the hand of a frazzled, auburn-haired woman wearing a leather motorcycle jacket. He identified the woman as Helene’s sister. Callie’s aunt. The pair was exiting a grungy loft building in Chinatown, fleeing the paparazzi and rushing into a cab. Little orphaned Callie. I could finally see her face and was thankful she didn’t look anything like Hugh except for the dark, curly hair. She was so frightened and pale. What would happen to her? Who was responsible for causing all her misery? Whoever it was should be locked up forever.
Was it me?
I loosened my robe. Suddenly the room had turned warm and airless.
The special report ended and I surfed more news channels. None of them reported progress on the case. My cell buzzed again from the bedroom. I dashed back to answer it, disappointed that the ID said Lizzie. I hesitated. I wasn’t eager to talk to her after Sinead’s revelation that she’d been gossiping about my divorce, but it might be something important about work. I picked up.
“Hello, Lizzie.”
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“I’ve been calling and calling. You looked so upset at Eden’s yesterday. I was starting to worry when you didn’t answer.”
“No need.”
“Well, it’s a zoo here. People are dropping in to ask questions every few minutes. Basically, they just want to talk because they’re flipping out. There were satellite vans along Pequod Avenue with reporters filming people’s reactions. It looks like they’ve left. But the phones don’t stop. It’s so nuts in here, no one can concentrate. Ben went home to make calls and see if he could wring out any more information from the DA before he writes the front-page story. He gave me seven hundred fifty words on Walker’s career, but I can barely get any work done—”
I interrupted. “Is that why you called, Lizzie?”
“Oh. Well, no. Ben just phoned and said to tell you not to come in. You know, to take some time to process all this. I’ll cover you.”
I felt a twinge in my chest. Why hadn’t Ben phoned to tell me this himself?
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, and then it just popped out. “And thanks for gossiping about my marital history.”
“Me?”
“That’s what Sinead said. Why would you do that, Lizzie?”
Lizzie went silent for a few seconds. Then she groaned.
“I guess I did say something.”
“But I specifically asked you not to.”
“I’m so sorry, Nora. It was the day you told your divorce story. That night Danny and I had a stupid fight over the invitations to our wedding reception. He stormed out, and I kept thinking about you and your ex. How you’d been together for so long before you made it official. Just like us. How it could end so miserably. Just like that. I was upset and went to the Tea Cozy and got a little loose. Sinead wouldn’t let me drive. She took me home. We were talking and it slipped out.” She paused. “I’m really sorry. Really.”
I heard a car slowing down outside.
“So, you weren’t just gossiping about me then,” I said, walking to the window.
“No! I wouldn’t. I feel awful.”
“That feels better.” I sighed. “Let’s just forget it. I hope you and Danny are back on track.”
“We’re great.”
“That’s good. This should be a happy time for you both.” I pulled aside one of the curtains. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“The press.”
One, no . . . two white TV vans already sat at the edge of the driveway, and two more cars were pulling up.
“Shit. There’s a small army out there.”
Altogether, nearly a dozen people spilled out of the various vehicles. They were from the city, judging by their mostly black clothes. Some had long-lens cameras hanging from their necks. Two men lugged video packs. One labeled CNN, one FOX.
“What are you going to do?” Lizzie asked.
“I don’t know.”
I felt cornered. I stepped back from the window and let go of the curtains, frustrated that Hugh had succeeded in turning my life into tabloid trash again from beyond the grave. But did I deserve it this time?
“Why don’t you give me the exclusive?” Lizzie asked.
“Exclusive what?”
“Interview with you. I’ll come over and tell them they’re too late—we have a contract. You aren’t allowed to answer any questions except mine.”
“I’m not giving interviews, Lizzie. I want less publicity, not more.” I peeked out the window again, dismayed.
“Unless you talk to them, they’ll probably be there until the police announce they’ve caught the killer.”
I winced. Lizzie could be tactless. “Great. I’ll be ordering in food then.”
“FYI. I do know one thing about whoever did it,” Lizzie said. “It was someone they knew.”
Only the police and the DA’s office had that information. And Ben.