The Drowned Woman Read online

  ‘Helen.’ I moved toward her. She didn’t respond. I reached out to touch her shoulder. Just before my hand made contact, she snored again, a deep, nasal grunt. She slept on, unaware of my presence. Her brown lace-up shoes lay next to my bed, scuffed and soiled. The soles were worn all the way through in places. She hadn’t bothered to take off her stockings; both of them were torn with ladders up the sides and gaping holes in the heels. Blisters had formed on both of her big toes. One of them had bled and scabbed over. She stank of sweat, and dirt, and fear. Her dress had stains in the armpits, as though she had been running and sweating for a long time. I should have woken her and demanded an explanation, but I didn’t have the heart. At least she was safe. No one would think to look for her here. I would have to hide her and keep her safe until Zeke got home. I hoped that my husband could make Helen see reason. I went back into the sitting room and turned the key in the lock.

  Knowing that Mrs Griswold would be in the basement dealing with Toby’s laundry, I hurried downstairs and assembled a tray of bread, butter, jam, a pitcher of water, a pot of coffee, and the last of a wheel of cheddar cheese. If she asked, I would tell Mrs Griswold that I had helped myself to a snack. She might wonder at my sudden appetite, but she wouldn’t mention it to anyone.

  ‘Helen,’ I shook her shoulder. ‘Wake up.’

  She yelped and sat up, her eyes wide with terror. ‘You’re safe.’ I pointed to the tray. ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘Starved,’ she said. ‘I haven’t eaten in hours, and I’ve come ever so far.’

  ‘Did you walk here?’

  ‘Part of the way,’ she said. ‘I’m in trouble, Sarah.’

  ‘I know. I want to help you. Eat first, my dear. I’ll get you some clean clothes and we’ll figure out what to do.’

  ‘Thanks. I should have listened to you from the beginning. If I had gone to Zeke when I first—’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. You’re here now. I’ll keep you safe.’

  After she finished eating, Helen ran herself a bath while I surveyed my clothes, trying to find something that would fit. Helen hadn’t brought anything with her except her handbag, and the clothes that she wore were beyond repair. Just then, a voice carried through the door.

  ‘Sarah? Can I come in?’

  I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Helen sat neck deep in bubbles, her eyes wide.

  ‘I’m in the tub,’ I called out.

  ‘Oh.’ There was a question in Daphne’s tone. I imagined her, standing outside my door, her head cocked, wondering what had possessed me to take my bath now. ‘Well, lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  I tiptoed over to the door and kept my ear pressed against it until Daphne’s footsteps faded away. Back in the bathroom, Helen had stepped out of the tub and wrapped my robe around her. She had tried on one of my dresses, but couldn’t zip it.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked.

  I went to Zeke’s chifforobe and brought Helen a pair of trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. ‘You can wear these for now. I have to go down for lunch. Will you be okay up here by yourself?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be right back. Do not open the door.’ I left her and headed downstairs for yet another tray.

  * * *

  Mrs Griswold and Daphne were in the kitchen, along with Toby, who sat at a small table in the corner eating a sandwich with the crusts cut off, grape jelly smeared all over his face.

  ‘Aunt Sarah, I’m having grape jelly,’ he said.

  ‘I can see that.’ I smiled at Daphne and Mrs Griswold. ‘Would you mind if I took a lunch tray up to my room? I’m so busy.’

  Mrs Griswold opened a cupboard and took out an extra tray. ‘What would you like?’

  ‘Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Mrs Griswold. I don’t mind doing for myself. And I hope you don’t mind that I came down for a snack earlier. I’ll bring both trays back down, so you don’t have to make an extra trip.’

  ‘If only everyone was as good and kind as you two,’ Mrs Griswold said to Daphne and me. She busied herself, slicing some bread for my tray. She gave me some cold chicken, a hardboiled egg, and two slices from a loaf of bread. ‘You’ve got quite an appetite today. Are you eating for two? It would be so wonderful to have a baby in the house.’

  ‘Sarah?’ Daphne’s voice was incredulous.

  ‘I’m not pregnant,’ I said. ‘Just hungry. Honest.’ I smiled at them as I carried the tray laden with food up to my room. I caught Daphne’s reflection in the mirror. She watched me as I walked away from her, a strange expression on her face.

  Helen held the door for me, as I carried the tray into the room. Zeke’s pants were tight through the hips, big through the waist, and much too long. Her wet hair hung in damp tendrils down her back. She eyed the tray.

  ‘You must still be starved. I got as much food as I could without arousing suspicion. We can share.’ We divvied up the chicken and the slices of bread and butter. I gave Helen the hardboiled egg. We sat in companionable silence, eating.

  ‘She’s very beautiful,’ Helen said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Rachel.’ She nodded at the portrait above the fireplace.

  ‘Did you know her?’

  ‘Not very well. She always had a kind word for everyone, no matter who you were. She was tough, I’ll give her that. Arliss Winslow tried to be rude to her once, but Rachel made quick work of her. She didn’t put on airs, if you know what I mean. Rachel knew who she was and where she came from. Marrying William didn’t change her.’ Helen’s voice was sleepy again. ‘I’m so tired. I’m afraid I need to sleep some more.’

  ‘Why don’t you lie back down? I have some work to finish. When Zeke gets back, we’ll figure out what to do with you.’

  ‘I’ll speak to Joe Connor. But you have to promise to keep that Detective Bateson away from me.’

  ‘Helen, what did you see?’

  ‘I saw who put the rucksack in Simon’s desk. I’ll tell Joe and Wade Connor what I saw, but not until they bury their father. Will you keep me here until then?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘You can’t tell anyone I’m here.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘What about Zeke? You can’t speak for him.’

  ‘I give you my word. If Zeke insists you go to Detective Bateson – which he won’t, believe me – I’ll help you leave. I’ll give you money and sneak you out of the house.’

  ‘You’d defy your husband?’

  I ignored her question.

  We were interrupted by a knock on the door. Helen dashed into the bathroom.

  ‘Sarah, it’s me. Why in the world have you locked the door?’

  I opened the door for Zeke. He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch, leaned back and shut his eyes. I sat next to him, not quite sure how to broach the subject of Helen.

  ‘What is it, my love?’ he asked without looking at me.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘You’ve something to tell me. You’re wound up tight as a drum, and you’re about to burst with the news of it.’ He opened his eyes and met my gaze. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Helen’s here.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘She ran out of her house when Detective Bateson showed up. It seems she got a ride part of the way and walked a good distance as well. She is utterly exhausted.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I promised we’d keep her safe until after Ken Connor’s funeral. Then she’ll speak to Joe and Wade. No one else.’

  ‘You made a promise on my behalf?’

  ‘No. I told her that if you didn’t agree, I’d help her leave,’ I said.

  He kissed me, and for the briefest moment I forgot that Helen was hiding in the bathroom, listening to every word we said.

  ‘She’s in the bathroom,’ I whispered into Zeke’s ear.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he whispered back, holding me tighte
r and kissing me again.

  I laughed and pushed away from him.

  ‘Helen, come out here,’ Zeke said.

  Helen came out of the bathroom and stood before Zeke, dressed in his clothes.

  ‘She left without her clothes, and mine didn’t fit,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t want to speak to Detective Bateson?’

  ‘No, sir. He won’t believe a word I say.’ She lifted her chin and met Zeke’s eyes. ‘Mr Zeke, what I saw, it’s going to ruin this family. You’ll hate me.’ She started to sob. ‘And Simon – everyone will know how I feel … I’m so ashamed.’

  I went to Helen and put my arms around her. ‘There, there.’ I patted her back and soothed her as if she were an infant. I met Zeke’s eyes.

  ‘Helen, we’ll keep you hidden until after the funeral. It’s only for one night. After that, you must go to Joe. Agreed?’

  Helen nodded, pushing away from me.

  Zeke said, ‘I’ll arrange for some appropriate clothes to be delivered to the house. Write down your size for me. I’m going to change. I have to go back to work.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ She went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

  * * *

  Once Helen had eaten her fill, exhaustion set in. Since Zeke would be staying at the mill through the night, I made a pallet on the floor in my room between the bed and wall. She curled up like a child and slept for eighteen hours, straight through. Toby snuck back down to the kitchen during the night and ate a whole jar of grape jelly, making himself sick in the process. Daphne had her hands full the next morning tending to him. Mrs Griswold left for the weekend to visit her son, which gave me free range to take up trays of food for Helen and myself. Around noon a delivery came from the local dress shop with a package of clothes for Helen. Zeke had arranged for two dresses, shoes, a hat, gloves, and stockings. At least Helen wouldn’t have to go about in Zeke’s clothes. We remained cloistered that entire next day, unable to do anything until Zeke made arrangements for Helen to speak to Joe Connor.

  By 10 p.m., Zeke still hadn’t come home. Helen and I prepared for bed, but Helen was growing restless, and I knew that if she didn’t see Joe by tomorrow, she would in all likelihood leave us for good. She was a resourceful young woman, who could easily make her way to Los Angeles and start over with a new name. If she got away, we would never see her again.

  We were lying in our respective beds, Helen on the floor next to me, when she spoke. ‘You’ve seen Rachel, haven’t you?’

  I nearly lied. I almost opened my mouth and told Helen that of course I hadn’t spoken to Rachel. After all, Rachel was dead and everyone knew that ghosts were nothing but figments of imagination, fanciful tales told on dark and stormy nights, designed to scare children. But I was asking Helen to trust me, and what better way to win trust than to give it?

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She came to me in Sausalito and told me if I found the emeralds, I would discover who killed her. When I found the emeralds in Simon’s room, Rachel took me there.’

  ‘Have you seen her since then?’ Helen’s voice wobbled with the promise of tears.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘She’s been noticeably absent. She told me she’d give me a dream, but that hasn’t happened either.’

  ‘Do you think she knows who killed her?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said.

  ‘Simon didn’t kill Rachel.’ Helen’s voice rang with conviction.

  ‘I know.’ I turned on the bedside light and met Helen’s eyes.

  ‘When I tell Joe Connor what I know,’ Helen said, ‘this family is going to hate me, even you.’

  ‘Not me, Helen,’ I promised. ‘And if you tell the truth, which I believe you will, not Zeke.’

  ‘How can you know that?’

  ‘Because there is never anything wrong with the truth. Now let’s get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is the funeral, and after that, you will speak to Joe and Wade.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Sarah,’ Helen said. ‘I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.’

  ‘Of course you would.’ I turned off my bedside lamp and fell quickly to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  The day of Ken Connor’s funeral dawned overcast and gray, perfect to suit my mood. As for Helen, Zeke had assured us that Wade and Joe would speak to her today, not at the police station, but at the mill. I would be glad to see Helen safely out of my hands. She had grown restless, and I was ready to have my small space in the house back to myself. We were working together to change the sheets and tidy the room when Daphne knocked once and barged in. Helen ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, just in the nick of time.

  ‘Is someone in your bathroom?’

  ‘No. The breeze shuts the door like that sometimes.’ She carried a new vase of flowers in her arms, this one a simple crystal design with a band of gold around the rim. ‘Another find at an antique store?’

  ‘Estate sale, actually.’ She set the vase on my dresser and fiddled with the stems until they were arranged to her satisfaction. Sunflowers this time, about two dozen of them. ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Beautiful.’ I picked up the robe that lay across the bed. ‘I was just going to bathe.’

  ‘Of course. Do you have linens? I can check—’

  ‘No, I’ve got everything I need.’ I got to the bathroom door before she did, and blocked it. ‘Is everything okay?’ She scrutinized me. ‘You’re acting funny, and you’ve got horrible circles under your eyes. Are you not sleeping well?’ ‘Not really. But I’ll sleep well tonight, really.’

  ‘Let me know if you need a sleep draught.’ Daphne gave me a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I’m to drive us to the funeral. I’ll see you downstairs at eleven-thirty, if that suits.’

  ‘Yes, fine. Thanks.’

  * * *

  Ken Connor’s intimate graveside service was short and somber. Lavinia Connor, Wade, and Joe sat on the only three chairs. Granna, Zeke, Simon, Daphne, and I, along with Sophie and Arliss, were the only people in attendance. When the casket was lowered, Lavinia went forward and tossed a red rose on top of it. When she broke down and wept, Wade and Joe led her to the waiting limousine.

  Ken Conner served on the Millport Police for forty years. He was a loved and respected member of this tiny community, so it seemed the whole town showed up at the Connors’ house for the reception after the service. The Connors lived in a mid-nineteenth-century farmhouse, complete with a wrap-around porch and surrounded by rose bushes in full bloom. The interior of the house was comfortable, lived in, and, like Lavinia and Ken Connor, without pretense. A long trestle table had been covered with white linen and was rapidly filling with casseroles, fresh bread, pies, and vegetable dishes. A punch bowl with lemonade had been set up for the children, and white-coated waiters circled the room serving champagne and orange juice. By tacit agreement no one spoke of the murders. Thunder banged away in the distance. Conversation centered on the rain that would surely come in the afternoon, and the war.

  I mingled, made small talk, nodded when a response was expected. Soon Helen would go to the mill with Zeke and Wade. There she would tell her story – whatever it was – to the men who had promised to help her. Zeke, Joe, and Wade stood huddled by themselves in the corner, speaking in hushed voices. Every now and then Wade would scan the room, missing nothing. When his gaze lingered on his mother, I was surprised by the softness I saw there. I reached for another champagne and took my drink over to a sofa under the ceiling fan. I could have started a conversation with any number of people, but I didn’t. I chose to sit by myself and people watch. I breathed a sigh of relief every time a newcomer would circulate away from me and onto a new group.

  Sophie Winslow moved through the buffet, filling two plates with a little serving from each dish. She wore a linen suit, her bare legs tan and muscular. When she had gone through the buffet line, Joe broke away from Zeke and Wade, took one of the plates from Sophie, and followed her to the sofa. Th
ey sat close enough that their thighs touched. Across the room, Arliss Winslow watched them, cheeks hot, eyes ablaze. Sophie, oblivious to her mother’s gaze, looked radiant, and didn’t even flinch when Arliss approached her.

  ‘Sophie, may I have a word, please? Joe, if you’ll excuse us.’ Arliss’s voice cut through the hum of the party. Lavinia, Wade, and Zeke stood near the buffet. A hush fell over the room. Not a sound cut through the air.

  ‘We’re eating, Mother. Surely it can wait.’

  ‘I’m afraid it can’t,’ Arliss said.

  ‘I’ll speak to you when I’ve finished eating, Mother,’ Sophie said.

  All eyes were riveted on Arliss Winslow and the unfolding scene. Wade and Zeke both wore a sardonic grin, as if they knew a secret.

  ‘Young lady, you’ll do as I say,’ Arliss snapped.

  ‘Mrs Winslow—’ Joe tried to speak.

  ‘Young man, stay out of this,’ Arliss said.

  ‘I will not,’ Joe said. He stood up and stepped around the table. ‘You won’t speak to her that way.’

  ‘Don’t you condescend to me, Joe Connor. You may think because you lost an arm and came home a hero, you can speak to me like that. I will not have it.’ Someone in the crowd gasped.

  ‘We’re engaged.’ Sophie spoke in a calm, measured voice. She got up and stood near Joe. He put his arm around her. Lavinia came around to stand next to Sophie. She’s surrounded by love. The thought sprung out of nowhere, but there it was. Sophie was with her new family. I knew it, just as I knew the sun would set in the evening.

  ‘Engaged?’ Arliss’s eyes ravaged Joe, Sophie, and Lavinia. ‘I suppose you knew about this, Lavinia?’

  ‘I was very pleased at the news,’ Lavinia said, her voice kind. She put an arm around Sophie. ‘I’ve always wanted a daughter. I’m in need of companionship now that Ken is gone, and they will need a chaperone. Joe has his own apartment—’

  ‘Do you think he can provide for her, give her the life to which she has become accustomed? He’s a cripple.’

  ‘That’s enough, Mother. What life have I become accustomed to? You hovering over me, not letting me do anything, not letting me socialize with anyone because they aren’t good enough? I’m tired of it. I’m getting married to Joe. I don’t need your permission.’