Sisters (10 page)

Alex felt her hope rising. ‘So what happened to your coat? The one you wore out on the walk?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Dory irritably. ‘Why?’

‘It might be nothing,’ said Alex. ‘What did the coat look like? Describe it.’

‘Why?’

‘Humor me,’ she said.

Dory sighed. ‘It was a black pea coat from Gap. Size eight. The belt was attached to it. Sewn onto it. I always liked that coat.’

‘And that’s the last time you remember wearing it?’ Alex asked. ‘When you went out for that walk?’

‘I guess so. Why are you asking me all this?’

‘Look, it’s probably nothing. I don’t want to get your hopes up.’

‘No danger of that,’ Dory said.

Alex heard some noise on the other end of the line.

‘I gotta go,’ said Dory. She hung up without another word.

Alex thought about what she needed to do. First, she had to go to the Back Bay station and see if there was a trash can in that little shop. Of course it was several years ago but if there was none now . . .

All right, she thought. Steady. If there was no trash can, the next thing to do was to go to the Colsons’ South End apartment to try to locate that coat.

She shook her head and consciously derailed her train of thought. She realized that she should clear this idea with Marisol. She might have already thought of it, already tried it. Alex could call and ask her. But even as she thought it, she realized that she didn’t want to. She felt sure that Marisol would try to talk her out of it. It was a complication she didn’t need to make her case. But Alex wanted to try, to see if there was a way to help. If it didn’t work out there wouldn’t be any harm done, she thought. But if she asked, and Marisol told her not to do it . . .

Alex knew better than to ask permission when she wasn’t willing to take no for an answer. She’d explain afterwards if nothing came of it. She glanced at the clock. It was rush hour. There would be lots of trains. If she drove to the Chichester station, she could be in the Back Bay in half an hour. She put her groceries in the refrigerator and threw her coat back on.

TEN

A
lex bought a bag of peanuts and wolfed them down while she looked around in the dim, fluorescent light of the shop. No trash can. She looked outside the door. None there either. ‘Excuse me,’ she said.

The clerk, a young woman with heavy eye make-up, stared at her.

Alex held up the empty peanut bag. ‘Do you have a trash can here?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Take it out on the street. There are trash cans out there.’

‘Not even behind the counter?’ said Alex.

The clerk looked at her as if she had grown a horn in the middle of her forehead. ‘Take your trash outside.’

‘What do you do when you have something to throw away?’

The clerk shook her head. ‘My boss says let the city pay to haul the garbage. He says I can take it outside or bring it home with me.’

‘That’s terrible,’ said Alex, but she felt her heart lift hopefully as she walked out of the Back Bay station and surveyed the block. There were no trash cans on this side of the street. She saw one on the other side. Would someone cross the street to use it? Maybe not, Alex thought.

The streets were teeming with cars and pedestrians hurrying home in the darkness. Alex thought about her next stop. Elaine and Garth Colson lived about ten blocks from here. They would probably be home, having dinner. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say to them. She only knew that she needed to get into that apartment. She merged into the river of people on the sidewalk, and headed in the direction of Dory’s former home.

The smell of Italian food cooking emanated from the apartment along with the plaintive, vibrant voice of a woman singing about lost love to the sound of an electric fiddle. Alex pressed the buzzer in the vestibule and waited, still not sure of what she was going to say. The door opened and Garth Colson stood there, frowning at the sight of her. Then his brow cleared. ‘Oh, hello, Alex,’ he said. ‘I thought you were our dinner guests.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,’ said Alex.

‘Oh, it’s nothing special. It’s just our neighbors.’

‘I was wondering if I could talk to you.’

‘Come in. Come in,’ he said. ‘I’m cooking my famous spaghetti and meatballs and I have to get back to it. Elaine’s not home yet. Come on in. Hang up your coat.’

Alex stepped into the apartment where Dory had grown up and looked around curiously. Inside, the house seemed elegant but comfortable. The wallpaper was a dark rose color and the hardwood floors were scuffed. There was a big mirror to the right of the door and, beneath it, a table with a Chinese bowl flanked by brass candlesticks.

On the other side of the front door was a chipped, ceramic umbrella stand stuffed with umbrellas and a long line of hooks surmounted by a shelf which was fastened to the wall. On the shelf were a riotous pile of hats, most of them knitted and of bright colors. From the hooks hung an assortment of garments, some several layers deep. Beneath them were several pairs of boots, neatly lined up.

Alex walked over to where the coats were hanging. Was it possible, she wondered, that Dory had come home that long ago day, thrown her coat on a hook and forgotten it? Maybe the Colsons left it there, as if in hope that one day their daughter would return. Or, more likely, distracted by the horrible events of the day, they might not have noticed it and never gotten around to removing it. Alex knew better than most, after clearing out her parents’ house, how clothing could pile up and stay in place, unused, sometimes for years.

Garth, who had disappeared into the kitchen, came back out into the hallway, wielding a wooden spoon. ‘Can I get you a beer or a glass of wine?’

‘Oh, no,’ said Alex. ‘Thank you, anyway.’

Once Garth had returned to his cooking tasks, Alex shrugged off her own coat and quickly ran her hands over the collection on the hooks. She had to pull the coats back without pulling them off, and sort through them. She was looking for a pea coat, not a long coat, so that eliminated some of the candidates. She rummaged through looking for jacket-length coats, and her heart leapt when she saw a dark jacket with a bathrobe-style belt sewn into it. In the dimness of the vestibule, which was lit by a chandelier, Alex couldn’t tell if the jacket was black or navy. But it was definitely the right style. She wrestled it out from among the others and quickly examined the inside of the neck. Gap. Size . . . She could not make out the number of the size because it was nearly worn away. But the coat was made for a slim person. It could have been Dory’s size.

Shifting her own coat to her other arm, Alex reached into the pockets of the pea coat. Her heart sank when she realized that each pocket was filled with wads of Kleenex, change, dog treats and scrunchies. And multiple small pieces of paper. One of them might be exactly the receipt she was thinking of.

Suddenly she heard the key in the lock, and she withdrew her hand from the pea coat pocket and folded the flap down over it, smoothing it as she did so. She stepped away from the hooks as the door opened. Elaine came in, wearing a plaid coat and carrying a book bag. She stopped short when she saw Alex and shook her head.

‘What are you doing?’ Elaine asked bluntly. ‘How did you get in here?’

Alex hesitated. ‘Just hanging up my coat. Your husband let me in.’

‘Come with me. Bring your coat. Garth,’ Elaine called out as she set off through the apartment.

Alex pulled her coat back on and followed Elaine down the hallway. They descended a short staircase to a great room with a fireplace, with a cozy brick kitchen at the other end of the ground level. Elaine set her book bag down beside a chair and laid her own coat over the back of it. Then she walked up to her husband who was standing by the stove. ‘Where are Joy and Therese?’ she said, putting a finger into the sauce on the stove and tasting it.

‘Not here yet,’ said Garth.

‘Why did you invite her?’ Elaine asked.

‘Alex? She just arrived. I didn’t know she was coming,’ said Garth. ‘But she’s welcome to stay. I made plenty.’

‘Never mind that, Garth,’ said Elaine. She turned to Alex. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here on kind of a mission,’ Alex admitted. ‘I’m trying to help Dory.’

‘Ah, yes. I’ve heard,’ said Elaine. ‘She’s left me several voicemails.’ She shook her head. ‘You didn’t listen to a word we said.’

Alex blushed but refused to apologize. She imagined the lonely voicemail from Dory, speaking to a mother who never picked up the phone. ‘Elaine, I know that you warned me, but I find I can’t turn my back on her.’

Elaine looked exasperated. ‘What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?’

‘I’m hoping to help her prove her alibi.’

‘Her alibi.’ Elaine snorted and opened the refrigerator door. She pulled out a bottle of water. ‘Garth, do you need anything in here?’ she asked.

‘Get me that jar of garlic,’ he replied.

While Elaine searched in the refrigerator, Alex looked at the assortment of photos affixed to the open refrigerator door with magnets. The largest photo was of a beautiful young woman onstage, her arms extended out in a plea, her gaze troubled, her mouth open and lips forming an oval. Her shining blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and she was wearing jeans, boots and a gauzy top over a camisole. When she looked more closely, Alex realized that all the photos were of the same person. In one photo, she was a young teenager accepting a bouquet, her golden hair in a long braid down her back. Another was a headshot. Her sweet eyes snapped with life. Lauren, Alex thought.

There were no photos of Dory.

‘Is that Lauren?’ Alex asked.

Elaine closed the door and handed Garth the jar he was seeking. Then she tilted her head and listened, her eyes misting. ‘Yes. That’s our Lauren. She had such a beautiful voice.’

Alex was suddenly aware of the CD that had been playing since she arrived. ‘Oh, is that Lauren singing?’ she asked.

Elaine frowned at her. ‘Isn’t that what you asked me?’

‘I meant the pictures,’ said Alex. ‘I’m sorry – I don’t really know country music. But you’re right. She does have a beautiful voice. It’s so clear.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know,’ said Elaine.

Alex, who had not been asked to sit, shifted from one foot to the other. ‘Like what? What is it that I don’t know?’

‘Elaine,’ Garth said in a warning tone.

Elaine scowled and Alex could see that she was debating with herself whether or not to heed his warning. Finally she made up her mind. ‘This was not the first time,’ she said.

Alex frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s no need to bring this up,’ said Garth.

Elaine ignored her husband’s warning. ‘Do you know what it means to have your record expunged?’ she asked.

‘Well, I imagine . . .’ Alex’s voice trailed away. ‘No, not really.’

Garth muttered something unintelligible. He set the spoon down and turned on his wife. ‘Elaine, stop. I understand how you feel, but stop. This is a stranger you’re telling all this to. And she doesn’t need to know this stuff.’

‘She wants to know about Dory. I think she has a right to know, before she gets herself in any deeper. If you don’t want to hear it, why don’t you go upstairs and see what’s keeping Joy and Therese.’

Garth shook his head and sighed as he walked out of the room. Alex heard the door to the apartment slam.

‘What were you saying? About a juvenile record?’ she prompted.

‘Expunged. It’s something they do for minors,’ said Elaine crisply. ‘It’s a way of clearing the criminal record of a minor, so that it doesn’t affect their whole lives.’

‘Now that you mention it, I think I have heard of that,’ said Alex.

‘When she was fifteen years old, Dory took a razor to school and sliced the face of one of her classmates,’ Elaine said calmly.

Alex stared at her.

‘We knew she was troubled by the time that happened, but we tried to support Dory. We made excuses for her. That the other girl was picking on her. It cost a fortune for the lawyer to arrange it, but her record was expunged. We never dreamed . . .’ Elaine heaved a sigh and looked at the spot in front of the double French doors which led into the garden, as if she could still see her daughter’s body lying there on the floor.

‘This incident at school. Maybe she was provoked,’ Alex said.

Elaine looked back at Alex in disbelief. ‘You’re determined to take her side.’

‘I’m not,’ Alex protested. ‘I’m just trying to understand.’ But there was no question that she was shaken by this revelation about Dory’s violent past. What kind of person attacked another student with a razor?

The sound of voices filled the hallway and Garth came back into the kitchen, trailed by Therese and a tired-looking woman with dark curly hair shot through with gray. She was wearing an ill-fitting polyester suit and flowered blouse.

‘They were on their way downstairs,’ said Garth. ‘Alex, these are our neighbors. Joy and Therese Ennis.’

‘Oh, this album is my favorite,’ exclaimed Therese, closing her eyes to be transported by the music. She twirled around, her delicate frame graceful as she moved to the music. ‘Nobody could sing like Lauren.’

Elaine smiled indulgently at the teenager. ‘She thought the world of you,’ she said. Then she turned to Joy. ‘Where’s Chris tonight?’ she asked.

‘He started teaching a calligraphy class at the Y,’ said Joy.

Looking at Joy, Alex could faintly discern the lovely, even dreamy young girl that she had once been in that photo upstairs from her student days. She still had the fetching mole by her lips and wide, beautiful eyes, but they were encircled by shadows.

‘At least they’re paying him for it,’ she said in a resigned tone.

The song ended and Therese opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on Alex and she frowned. ‘Hey, you were here before,’ she said accusingly.

‘That’s right,’ said Elaine. ‘She was pretending to be a relative.’

‘Joy, do you want a beer?’ Garth asked.

Joy Ennis nodded. ‘I could use one,’ she said. ‘I had a crappy day at work. Nice to meet you,’ she said to Alex, offering a handshake.