The Bone House - Brian Freeman [32]
Hilary didn't think that Delia had ever suffered a pang of doubt. She was convinced she was right and would never believe otherwise. In her eyes, Mark was a child molester who deserved the ostracism he'd received. Now, like a bad dream, he was back in her life, violating her family again in an even more terrible way than before.
'Mrs Fischer, I'm so sorry,' Hilary began. 'Mark and I—'
'Don't you dare.'' Delia cut her off in a voice hoarse with bitterness. 'Don't you dare defend him. Don't you dare speak his name in front of me.'
'Mrs Fischer, please. I understand your grief.'
Delia's cheeks flushed. 'You don't know the first thing about my grief, so don't pretend that you do. Everyone says how smart and attractive you are, and all I see is a woman who's a fool. You're married to a monster, and you won't admit it to yourself. Maybe if you'd opened your eyes last year, my daughter would still be alive.'
'Mark didn't do this,' Hilary told her, but she knew her words were useless, and she almost regretted saying them.
Delia flinched, as if she might slap Hilary's face, but then she closed her eyes and breathed heavily. When she opened her eyes again, Hilary felt a wave of violence breaching the small space between them. The policeman coughed, like a gentle warning to draw their attention, but Delia ignored him.
'I almost feel sorry for you,' Delia said, 'trying to convince yourself that he's not evil. But then I think, you must know, and you just don't care. Because you're not a fool, are you? You really are as smart as everyone says. So I guess you've just decided you'll protect him regardless of what he's done.'
Hilary noticed that other people coming and going from the police building had begun to stop and watch them. She felt a burn of embarrassment. It was familiar; she'd learned to expect stares from strangers. She knew that Delia was lashing out in pain and desperation, and she knew that there was no way for her to bridge the divide between them. If anyone could comfort Delia, it wasn't her. Her presence just made it worse.
'I should go,' Hilary told her. 'You may not believe me, and it doesn't matter, but I'm very sorry about Glory. You're right, I can't understand your grief. I can't imagine losing your daughter. It may mean nothing coming from me, but I'm hurting for you. I really am.'
Delia's face was impassive. Hilary hadn't expected to reach her. The policeman approached Delia and touched her elbow in order to guide her toward the door of the building. Delia allowed herself to be led, but she pulled away abruptly and jabbed a finger at Hilary's face.
'Do you have any idea what he took from me?' she shouted. 'Glory was my baby! I almost lost her once, and I thought I got a second chance. But now I've lost her all over again because of you and your husband. He took her away from me. It wasn't enough what he did to Tresa. He had to go after my baby, too.'
Hilary said nothing. She stood there and let the woman vent her despair.
'Mrs Fischer,' the policeman murmured. 'Let's go inside.'
'Well, you know what?' Delia continued, screaming at Hilary now.
'He's not going to get away with it! I promise you that. Not again. This time I'm going to make sure he pays for what he did to us!'
Troy Geier sat on a concrete bench in the lobby of the police building. His back was slumped as he leaned forward, and his hands dangled between his thick thighs. Tresa sat next to him, as straight as a board. They both watched the altercation outside between Delia Fischer and Hilary Bradley, and the noise of Delia's screaming cut through the glass windows, clear and shrill.
Tresa didn't look at Troy. 'You told my mom, didn't you? You told her you thought that Mark did this.'
'What the hell was I supposed to say?' he muttered.
'You bastard. Mark would never hurt Glory.'
Troy blew out his breath in a disgusted sigh. 'Shit, Tresa, listen to yourself. You're more concerned with your teacher boyfriend than you are with your sister. Glory's dead, and you're still protecting