Comes The Blind Fury Part 31

Mich.e.l.le nodded.

"Now I want you to think very carefully," Tim said. "I want you to go over it all once more, and try to remember if you left anything out."

Mich.e.l.le began going over the story again. This time Tim stopped her occasionally, trying to prod her memory for detail.

"Now, when Billy started walking along the top of the backstop, where were you standing?"

"At the end of it, right where he climbed up it."

"Were you touching it? Leaning on it?"

Mich.e.l.le frowned a little, trying to remember. "No. I was using my cane. I was leaning on my cane."

"All right," Tim said "Now, tell me again what happened while Billy was walking the rail."

She told it exactly as she had before.

"I was watching him," Mich.e.l.le said. "I was telling him to be careful, because I was afraid he might fall. And then he tripped-he just tripped, and fell. I tried to catch him, but I couldn't-he was too far away, and I-well, I can't move very fast anymore."

"But what did he trip on?" Tim asked.

"I don't know-I couldn't see."

"You couldn't see? Why not?" A thought occurred to him. "Was it foggy? Did it get foggy?"

For a split second there was a flicker in Mich.e.l.le's eyes, but then she shook her head.

"No. I couldn't see because I'm not tall enough. Maybe-maybe there was a nail sticking up."

"Maybe so," Tim agreed. Then: "What about Amanda? Was she there?"

Again, for just a split second, there was that flicker in Mich.e.l.le's eyes. But, again, she shook her head.

"No"

"You're sure?" Tim urged her. "It could be very important."

Now Mich.e.l.le shook her head more definitely. "No!" she exclaimed. "There was no fog, and Amanda wasn't with me. Billy tripped! That's all, he just tripped. Don't you believe me?"

Tim could see that she was on the verge of tears.

"Of course I do," he said, smiling at her. "You like Billy Evans, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever tease you?"

"Tease me?"

"You know-the way Susan Peterson did, and some of the other kids."

"No." Again, Tim thought he noticed a hesitation.

There was more to the story than Mich.e.l.le was telling him, but he wasn't sure that he would be able to get it out of her. Something was holding her back. It was as if she was protecting something. He thought he knew what it was.

Amanda.

Amanda, the dark side of Mich.e.l.le, had done something, and Mich.e.l.le was protecting her. Tim knew it would be a long time before he would be able to convince Mich.e.l.le to abandon her "friend."

As he was wondering what to say next, Mich.e.l.le suddenly met his eyes.

"He's going to die," she said softly. Tim stared at her, not sure he had heard her right. Then, her voice still soft, but very definite, Mich.e.l.le repeated the words.

"I know Billy's going to die."

June drove slowly, Cal beside her in the front seat, Mich.e.l.le in the back. Each of them was in his own private world, although both Cal and June were thinking about Billy Evans, lying in a coma in the clinic. Josiah Carson had done as much for the boy as he could, and had given Cal a light sedative. Tomorrow a neurologist would come from Boston. But Cal and Josiah were both sure that the specialist's findings would only verify what they already knew-Billy's strangulation had gone on too long; there was brain damage. How extensive the damage was wouldn't be known until Billy came out of the coma.

If he came out of it.

The silence in the car was beginning to tell on June. She was relieved when she finally had an excuse to break it.

"I have to stop at the Bensons' to pick up Jenny."

Cal nodded once, but made no verbal reply. Only when she had turned in at the Bensons' did he speak.

"I wish you wouldn't leave Jenny like this."

"Well, I couldn't very well bring her with me, could I?"

"You could have called me. I'd have come out and driven you both in."

"Frankly, I wasn't sure you'd even be at the school," June said. Then she remembered Mich.e.l.le's silent presence in the backseat. "Never mind. Next time I'll either call you or bring Jenny with me." She opened the car door and got out, then held the back door for Mich.e.l.le. Cal was already on the Bensons' porch as June and Mich.e.l.le started up the steps.

Constance Benson must have been waiting for them, for the door opened just as Cal was about to knock. June thought she saw the woman's lips tighten as she glanced at Mich.e.l.le. When she said nothing, June decided to wait until they were inside to explain what had happened. But it soon became apparent that Constance Benson had already heard. "I just talked to Estelle Peterson," she said. "A terrible thing-terrible." Again, she glanced at Mich.e.l.le. This time, June was sure there was hostility in her eyes.

"It was an accident," June said quickly. "Billy was trying to walk the backstop, and he fell. Mich.e.l.le tried to catch him."

"Did she?" Constance Benson's voice was carefully neutral, but June was sure she could hear a hint of sarcasm in it. "I'll get the baby. She's upstairs, asleep."

"I can't thank you enough for taking care of her," June said gratefully. Constance was already on the stairs, but she turned back to face June as she spoke.

"Babies aren't any trouble at all," she said. "It's only when they start growing up that the problems come."

Mich.e.l.le was standing just inside the door. She took a step toward her father.

"She thinks I did something, doesn't she?" she asked, when Constance continued up the stairs.

Cal shook his head but said nothing. Mich.e.l.le turned to her mother.

"Doesn't she?" she repeated.

"Of course not," June replied. She went to Mich.e.l.le, and slipped an arm protectively around her daughter's shoulders. When Constance reappeared a moment later with Jennifer cradled in her arms, she paused, as if unwilling to deliver the baby to June while she was so close to Mich.e.l.le. There was a silence, broken at last by Mich.e.l.le.

"I didn't hurt Billy," she said. "It was an accident."

"What happened to Susan Peterson was an accident, too," Constance replied. "But I wouldn't want to try to convince her mother of it."

June felt herself becoming angry, and decided, quite consciously, not to suppress it.

"That's a cruel thing to say, Mrs. Benson. You saw what happened to Susan Peterson, and you know perfectly well that Mich.e.l.le had nothing to do with it. And today, she tried to help Billy Evans. If she could move faster, she would have."

"Well, all I know is that 'accidents' don't just happen. Something causes them, and you can't tell me any different!" She handed Jennifer to June, but her eyes suddenly moved to Mich.e.l.le.

"If I were you, I'd be careful with this baby," she said. She was still staring at Mich.e.l.le. "It doesn't take much of a fall to kill a child this age."

June's mouth dropped open in astonishment as she realized the implication of what Constance Benson had said. She searched for a suitable reply. When no words came, she simply handed Jenny to Mich.e.l.le.

"Take her out to the car, will you, darling?" she asked.

Mich.e.l.le carefully took the baby in one arm while she used the other to balance herself with the cane. June kept her eyes on Constance Benson, as if challenging her to say anything further. Mich.e.l.le, cradling the baby in her left arm, started shakily toward the door.

"Will you go with her?" June asked Cal. "I don't see how she'll be able to get the car door open, too. But I imagine she could do it if she had to."

Cal, sensing the tension between the two women, quickly followed Mich.e.l.le out to the porch. Left alone with Constance Benson, June struggled to control her voice.

"Thank you for looking after Jennifer," she said at last. "Now that I've said that, I have to tell you that I think you're the most cruel and ignorant person it has ever been my misfortune to meet. In the future, neither I nor my family will bother you again. I'll find someone else to sit with Jenny, or do it myself. Good-bye."

She started toward the door but was stopped cold by Constance Benson's voice.

"I won't hold that against you, Mrs. Pendleton," Constance said. "You don't know what's happening. You just don't know."

Mich.e.l.le started down the steps, holding Jenny tight against her chest while she used the cane to find her footing. She stayed close to the bannister, so that if she slipped she could lean against it. When she got to the bottom she stopped, and slowly released the breath she had been holding as she made her way down from the Bensons' porch. "We made it," she whispered, smiling down at Jenny's little face. Seeming to understand her, Jenny looked up at her, gurgling happily. A tiny trickle of spittle dribbled from one corner of her mouth. Mich.e.l.le dabbed it away with a corner of the blanket.

And then, suddenly, the fog started closing around her. She glanced up quickly, seeing the mists coming fast, and hearing the first faint whispers of Amanda's voice. She saw her father, standing next to the car, watching her.

"Daddy?"

Cal took a tentative step toward her, but the fog closed in on her then, and he disappeared.

"Daddy! Quick!" Mich.e.l.le cried.

She was going to drop Jennifer.

She could feel Amanda, next to her, prodding her, whispering to her, telling her to let go of the baby, to let Jennifer-Jennifer, who had taken her parents away from her-fall to the ground.

As Amanda's voice grew more insistent, Mich.e.l.le felt herself giving in, felt herself obeying her friend's voice. She wanted to hurt Jenny, wanted to see her fall.

Slowly, she began relaxing her left arm.

"It's all right," she heard her father say. "I've got her now. You can let go."

She felt Jennifer being lifted out of her arms. The fog dispersed as quickly as it had come. Next to her, her father stood holding the baby, watching her.

"What happened?" she heard him ask.

"I-I got tired," Mich.e.l.le stammered. "I just couldn't hold her any longer. I thought I was going to drop her, Daddy!"

"But you didn't, did you?" Cal said. "It's just like I told your mother. You're just fine. You didn't want to hurt Jenny, did you? You didn't want to drop her." There was desperation in Cal's voice, the sound of a man trying to convince himself of the truth of his own words. Mich.e.l.le, however, was too lost in her own confusion to hear the pleading in her father's words. When she replied, her own voice was uncertain.

"No. I-I just got tired, that's all," Mich.e.l.le said. But as she got into the backseat of the car, she thought she could hear Amanda's voice, far away, shouting at her.

Then her mother was in the car, too, and they were driving home. But all the way, Mich.e.l.le could hear Amanda's voice.

Amanda was angry with her.

She could tell by the way Amanda was shouting at her.

She didn't want Amanda angry at her.

Amanda was the only friend she had.

Whatever happened, she couldn't let Amanda stay angry.

CHAPTER 24.

It wasn't until Tim suggested that perhaps Mich.e.l.le should be inst.i.tutionalized, if only for observation, that Corinne lost her temper.

"How can you say that?" she demanded. She tucked her feet up under her in an unconsciously defensive gesture and clutched her coffee cup in both hands. Tim poked at the fire and shrugged helplessly.

"There was something in her eyes," he said. How many times had he tried to explain it? "I don't know exactly what it was, but she wasn't telling me everything. I'm sorry, Corinne, but I don't believe that Billy Evans fell off that backstop accidentally."

"You mean you think Mich.e.l.le Pendleton tried to kill him." Corinne's voice was cold. "You might as well say what you mean."

"I did. You seem to want me to say that I think Mich.e.l.le Pendleton is a murderer, but I won't. I'm not sure she is. But I am am sure she had something to do with Billy's fall. And Susan Peterson's, too, for that matter." sure she had something to do with Billy's fall. And Susan Peterson's, too, for that matter."

"You don't think she's a murderer, but you think she killed Susan? Is that what you're saying?" Without waiting for him to reply, she went right on. "My G.o.d, Tim, if you'd talked to her just a few weeks ago, you'd know that couldn't be true. She was the sweetest, nicest child. Things just don't change that fast."

"Don't they? All you have to do is look at her." Tim ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to keep his brown curls from tumbling over his forehead, but it did no good. "Look, Corinne, you have to face the facts. Whatever she is, Mich.e.l.le isn't the same girl who came to Paradise Point in August. She's changed."

"So you want to lock her up? You just want to put her away where n.o.body will have to look at her? You sound just like the kids in my cla.s.s!"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Corinne, you have to face up to what's happened. Whatever's causing it, Susan is dead, and Billy might as well be. And both times, Mich.e.l.le was there. And we know that something's happened to her," Tim said tiredly. They'd been going around and around the subject for hours, ever since dinner, and they hadn't gotten anywhere. If only, Tim thought, Mich.e.l.le had given that d.a.m.ned doll some other name. Any Any other name. It was as if Corinne read his mind. other name. It was as if Corinne read his mind.