Split Second - Catherine Coulter [57]
“Did you ask them why they were smiling fake smiles?”
“Sort of. They told me it wasn’t anything at all, and I knew that wasn’t true. Grandfather didn’t come back from the store.”
“How long was your grandfather gone before your birthday?”
They watched her count off on her fingers. “Nearly a week, I think.”
“Okay, I want you to go back, Lucy, to nearly a week. Are you there? In the house?”
She nodded, a jerky sort of birdlike movement, like a child’s.
“What do you see?”
“I don’t see anything, but I hear Daddy yelling. He sounds really scared and mad at the same time. I’m scared now, but I don’t want him to see me because I’m not supposed to be there.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“At Marjorie’s house, next door, but something broke in a bathroom and there was water everywhere, and so I left. Marjorie’s mom didn’t know I left.”
“Where were your daddy and your grandmother when you heard them yelling?”
“Upstairs somewhere.”
“And you want to know what’s the matter, right? What do you do?”
She was shaking her head frantically, back and forth.
Dr. Hicks said, “It’s okay, Lucy. We’re right here to protect you. Nothing can hurt you. Do you believe me?”
Finally she nodded and expelled a shaky little girl’s breath. “I walk up the stairs and hide. I look down the hall and see my daddy going up the attic stairs.”
Savich said, “Do you see your grandmother?”
“No. She’s already up there.”
“Is your daddy carrying anything?”
“I don’t know. He’s crying. I think he’s crying about Mama again.”
“Do you go up the stairs to the attic?”
“No. I listen to them making noises, moving around in the attic, but I’m afraid to go up there, afraid they’ll see me.”
“Do you know what they’re doing in the attic?”
“I don’t see them, but they’re arguing, and Daddy’s crying again and yelling, and I’m afraid to move.”
“Could you make out what they’re saying to each other?”
“Grandmother keeps screaming about how she’s sorry, how he ruined everything.”
Lucy fell utterly silent, and her head fell to the side. Savich thought she’d come out of it and fallen asleep, but Dr. Hicks stayed his hand when he would have patted her shoulder. He shook his head to continue.
Savich said again, “Is your daddy saying anything to your grandmother you can understand?”
“My daddy’s voice is shaking. He’s yelling, and Grandmother’s crying.”
“What does your grandmother say?”
“‘I didn’t mean to, Joshua’—Grandmother always calls Daddy Joshua even though Uncle Alan and Aunt Jennifer call him Josh.”
“Do you hear your grandmother say what she didn’t mean to do?”
“She just kept crying and saying over and over, ‘He ruined everything, Joshua. My ring! He threw it out, said no one would ever find it. I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t.’”
“What happened next?”
“They went to Grandmother’s room, so I didn’t have a chance to sneak out. Then they came back and they were both carrying lots of clothes and shoes and stuff. They went back and forth, and when they were in the attic I ran down to the kitchen.”
“Did they ever know you were there, Lucy?”
“No. I went up later and saw my dad, and he was standing by his bedroom door, and he was crying. He saw me and called to me, and I ran to him, and he hugged me.”
“You never said anything to your dad? To your grandmother?”
“No. I knew they’d be mad. I didn’t want to get swatted.”
“Lucy, tell me about your grandmother.”
She looked confused. Savich realized she was only a kid and the question was far too complicated. “Do you love your grandmother?”
She nodded, another quick, jerky movement. “She makes me peanut-butter cookies; they’re my favorite. She lets me sit beside her while she’s reading. She’s always reading. But she always sits in the living room. I hate the living room; it’s like a dead room, and you can’t breathe.”
“Do you love your grandfather, Lucy?”
Her face lit up. “Grandfather likes me to sit on his leg, and he bounces up and down and says he’s my horse. He always smells like beef jerky. I really liked jerky until—”
“Until?”
“Until