The Girl in the Green Raincoat_ A Novel - Laura Lippman [44]
Whitney realized that Epstein, while declaring his love for these women, had not declared his innocence in their deaths. The two things would seem contradictory to most people, of course. But was Epstein most people? Had he managed to blank out his responsibility for his wives’ deaths? Was that why he was such a persuasive tragic figure, one on one, because he no longer remembered that he had caused his own bereavement?
“Whitney, Whitney, Whitney,” he said. “I have brought you here today because I know you are not the woman you claim to be.”
She should really get her purse. “I should really get my purse.”
He shook his head. “Take my hand, Whitney.”
She did, realizing that it was the first time they had touched in any intimate way. As recently as a day ago she would have been at least curious about physical contact with Epstein. Now she wanted to snatch her hand and run. But where would she go?
“Whitney, you are not alone in this world. You are not without resources.”
Oh, dear. “I really need my purse.”
Don Epstein shook his head, placing his hands between hers, kneeling before her.
“Kneel with me, Whitney.”
“The ground looks awfully damp—” He jerked her down the ground.
“Pray with me, Whitney. Absolve me, Whitney. I feel I can tell you the truth. I am responsible for Mary’s death.”
“Oh, I can understand why you would feel that way—”
“No, Whitney. I killed her as surely as if I pulled that trigger myself. Will you pray with me, Whitney?”
“Um, sure.”
Tess, dozing, was awaked by her daughter’s nightly gymnastic routine and a comfortably familiar hollow feeling in her stomach. Who was supposed to be bringing dinner tonight? Lloyd? Mrs. Blossom? She had forgotten to ask Crow when he left for work. How late was it? Late enough that when she opened Dempsey’s crate, the dog insisted on relieving himself in the chamber pot. Great.
Finally, there was a discreet knock, then the door opened, a sharp rat-a-tat of high heels on the wooden floors. Ah, that would be Mrs. Blossom. No, her mother, because Mrs. Blossom never wore heels. Esskay and Miata, shut up in the bedroom, scratched and whined, then settled back down. Would it be Afghan food? Tess recalled telling Crow that morning that she craved kaddo borawni, the Helmand’s pumpkin appetizer. She sighed in happy anticipation.
“Mom?” she called out.
“No,” said the woman in the green raincoat.
In her hand she held what would appear to be a black and violet flashlight to the untrained eye. But Tess’s eye happened to be trained by the endless stream of catalogs she received at her office. It was a taser, a small one. But even the small ones had ranges of up to twenty-five feet.
“What’s the matter, Carole?” she said. “Couldn’t you find one in green?”
Chapter 14
So you’re alive,” Tess said.
“Yes, and trying to make a new life for myself.”
The woman in the green raincoat, seen up close, was as pretty and girlish as Tess’s first impression of her. Too girlish, little girlish, all but stomping her foot in frustration.
“You were the eBay seller.” She watched as Carole moved briskly around the room, lowering the shades. Cautious, but unnecessary. There were no lights on the houses to either side of Tess’s, no one around to see or hear what was about to happen. What was about to happen? “Not Don, but you. You have Annette’s jewelry. You have your sister’s jewelry. Which means—”
“Which means what, exactly? I took the items down. There’s no record anymore.”
“I cached them,” Tess lied.
“Really?” Carole Epstein looked mildly impressed. Then she picked up Tess’s laptop from her cluttered bedside table, held it high above her head and dropped it to the floor. In his crate, Dempsey yipped, but tentatively.
“Shut up,” Carole said.
Tess considered her options. No matter the taser’s range, Carole wasn’t going to settle for stunning her. She meant