Free All Fall Down by Carlene Thompson Page A

entertain people, especially when so many are just curiosity seekers, not real friends like you.” Which wasn’t exactly true, Blaine thought. It was Martin with whom Joan had been good friends. Blaine had never been much more than an acquaintance and a colleague at work. “But I know you understand exactly what I’m talking about,” Joan was going on. “You’ve been through it all.”
    Once again Joan’s memories were inaccurate. No one had come by to comfort her and Caitlin when their father had gone to bed in a drunken stupor and died in his sleep from a leak in a gas stove. And no one except Joan had come to the home after Martin’s brutal death. Everyone had been too daunted by the police swarming through the house and around the lawn. But Blaine saw no point in correcting Joan’s recollections.
    Joan took another sip of brandy, lighted on a chair opposite her for a moment, then quickly rose and began pacing around the room. “I keep prattling because I don’t know where to begin,” she said, twisting the wide silver bracelet she always wore. “Your Ashley found Rosalind.”
    “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
    “In the creek. My beautiful girl lying out there in that filthy water for God knows how long. Was it awful? I mean, did she look—” She gasped. “Oh, God, what am I going on about that for? I know how she looked. Her face, at least.” Joan took a deep, shaky breath, getting control. “I suppose I should be glad she was caught in those roots and didn’t sink. Bodies don’t surface for days, you know. That’s what Logan Quint told me. If not for those roots, it might have been spring before she was found…” She made a shattered motion with her hand, her voice breaking. “Blaine, I thought she was in Charleston.”
    “I know.”
    “She said she wanted to visit her cousin Amanda. You know she did that a few times a year. This particular trip did seem a little sudden to me, but I didn’t put up an argument. Mother has been impossible the last few weeks—I thought Rosalind just needed a break. She didn’t even feel free to invite people to the house anymore. We never knew when Mother was going to throw one of her colossal tantrums. A young girl shouldn’t have to deal with someone in Mother’s condition. I should have put her in a nursing home.”
    “Joan, we can spend our whole lives thinking of what we should have done, but it’s useless. You were doing what you thought was best for your mother. Lots of people don’t adjust well to nursing homes, and I know Rick Bennett thought your mother was one of those people. He thought she was better off at home. And you certainly shouldn’t blame yourself for letting Rosie go on her weekend trip.”
    “That’s what everyone keeps saying, but I do.” Joan rubbed her forehead distractedly. “I asked Rosalind to call when she got to Amanda’s. She fussed a bit, but agreed. And a little over an hour after she left, around five, she did call. That’s when I should have known.”
    Blaine frowned. “You should have know what?”
    “That she was lying. The call didn’t sound right.”
    “How?”
    “There was background noise—traffic. It flashed through my mind that she was calling from a pay phone, but when I asked, she said Amanda’s mother had the window open. She didn’t sound as if she was telling the truth, and besides, Amanda lives on a fairly quiet street. I should have called right back to verify her story. It’s just that Rosalind had been complaining lately about my being too strict, too protective. Oh, not making a big thing out of it, but dropping little remarks here and there. So lately I haven’t been checking up on her as much as I always did. And look, just look what came from my carelessness!”
    She was speaking much faster than usual, her voice high and tight. She set down the brandy snifter and began wringing her hands. Blaine stood up, taking those twisting hands in hers. Close up, in the bright light streaming