My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 18

18

AFTER DARK, I slipped into the laundry room and lifted a slat in the blind to get a look at Ashleigh's house. The place was dark. I visualized the inside and tried to recall anything she'd said that might be a clue, but nothing came to mind. I located another flashlight, slipped into a dark windbreaker, and stepped out into the night. It was cave black.

The darkness was alive with a thousand sounds. Endless rhythms and patterns of drumming, chirping, buzzing, rustling. Nature's symphony. The sounds of life. Sounds one would rarely hear locked away in prison.

I squeezed into the row of bushes at the back of the lot and emerged about thirty feet from Ashleigh's steps. There was a large seal on the door that hadn't been there Sunday night. Otherwise, it looked exactly the same; potted plants hanging along the edges of the porch and a pair of dirty tennis shoes sitting by the entrance.

I moved forward, lifted the police tape, and started to step under it when the backyard floodlights burst on around me. My heart leapt into my throat and I dove back into the bushes from where I saw Mrs. Hardesty at her kitchen window looking left and right. She disappeared briefly, then reappeared at the sliding door. The outside lights went off and she stepped out onto her back porch.

Holding her robe off the ground with one hand and carrying a flashlight in the other, she tiptoed across the yard to the pool house and under the police tape. Inching farther back into the shrubs, I watched her peel back the seal on the door and—with a key—enter the house.

Jumping the police tape, I crept around to the back of the house and, through a window, saw Mrs. Hardesty standing at the foot of Ashleigh's bed, her light slowly moving over the blood-splattered walls. It looked like someone had poured a bucket of red paint on the bed and tried to stir it with a chainsaw.

Suddenly her light shined directly into my eyes. I tore from the window, leaped the barrier tape, and smashed through the shrubs. The screen door banged behind me and I heard Mrs. Hardesty call "Who's there?" as I ran into Mrs. Winslow's backyard.

From behind a rotting shed, I watched Mrs. Hardesty search the bushes with the light. My neck pulsed with the beat of my heart as I watched her cross into my yard and aim her light at my back door.

"Mr. Baimbridge?" she called, her voice quivering.

She moved her light in a slow circle and shined it along the line of bushes separating our houses before heading back to Ashleigh's house.

I sat up and had just leaned back against Mrs. Winslow's shed when her back porch light blasted on in my face. Lurching forward, I dived into the shadows under her deck as her door opened and she stepped out ten feet from me. Lugging a weighted plastic bag, she crossed to a rubber garbage caddy, lifted the lid, and dropped the bag in. Edging to the back of the deck, she leaned and gazed through the trees toward the Hardesty's.

"What in blazes you s'pose that woman is doing in that girl's house?" she asked. Holding my breath, I cowered against the deck siding. "What was it you was seein' over there just now, Mr. Baimbridge?" Not sure I'd actually heard what I thought I'd heard, I lay perfectly still and didn't answer. "I know you's there," she said. "I seen you. I seen you when you snuck over to that girl's house, too."

I sighed and stood up. "You don't miss a thing, do you, Mrs. Winslow?"

She lifted the apron hanging from her waist and wiped her hands on it. "I gener'ly try to keep an eye on what's going on 'round here."

"I've noticed you do."

"Yes, I do. And I seen you jest now lookin' in the window of that girl's house, too."

I looked toward Ashleigh's. I could hardly see the house. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I just knew. That's all."

"Do you know who's in there right now?"

She leaned forward clutching the front of her robe and whispered, "T'is that uppity Mrs. Hardesty."

I whispered, too. "And do you know what she's doing in there?"

"I 'spect she's looking to steal something."

"What else do you know about the goings on in that house?"

She straightened tall and cut her eyes down at me. "Oh, I knows more'n people think."

"Mrs. Winslow, did you see who went in there Sunday night?"

Hearing the screen door at Ashleigh's house squeak open and slam shut, Mrs. Winslow shuffled back inside and cut off the outside light.

"Wait!" I whispered squatting by the deck. In the darkness I heard the sound of Mrs. Winslow's door jingle shut and a security chain being hooked on it. I waited for Mrs. Hardesty to get back inside her house, then jumped onto the deck and tapped at Mrs. Winslow's door. When it cracked open, I noticed there were no lights on inside.

"Mrs. Winslow, did you see who went into that house Sunday night?"

"I seen you."

"Did you see anyone else go in there?"

"Didn't see nobody else."

"But somebody must have gone in after me."

"Didn't see nobody."

"Did you see me when I left there?"

"I seen you laying in the yard."

"Do you know how long I was there?"

"Least an hour."

"Did you see how I got there?"

"Only other thing I seen was the girl leaving."

"What girl?"

"The girl. Her."

"She left? What time was that?"

"While you was layin' outside. She just walked away carryin' some kind of bag."

"Walked?"

"Just walked off."

"Did you tell the police?"

"They didn't ask me that."

"What time did she come back?"

"Didn't."

"Where do you suppose she would have gone at that time of the night? On foot?" Mrs. Winslow shook her head, then closed the door. "Wait!" I whispered tapping on the door.

She didn't answer and despite my determined knocking, she didn't open the door again. I finally made my way around my house and entered through the front door. I was wet, cold, and trembling. It took another double scotch to settle me down. Could Mrs. Winslow be mistaken? Could it have been another woman?