Chapter 45 Susan
Chapter 45
Susan
“I repeat, what are you doing in my room?” said Brooke.
Susan had no excuse, no ready explanation that could justify her rummaging in Brooke’s room. And here she was, with Brooke’s jewelry spread out across the bathroom counter, caught with the glaring evidence of her guilt.
“I thought you and Colin had left—I didn’t know—”
Brooke looked at the jewelry and gave a disbelieving laugh. “Are you trying to steal something?”
“No! No, I—”
“Then what, Susan? What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to find out if this belongs to you.” Susan held out the gold ear stud.
Brooke frowned. “Where did you find that?”
“In the trunk of your car. I found it when we were unloading the groceries.”
“Oh.” Brooke paused, then managed a careless laugh. “So that’s where I lost it.”
“No. Yours are here.” Susan pointed to the pair of Brooke’s studs on the countertop. “Both of them.”
“Then I don’t know where that one came from.”
“Zoe has a pair just like these. When they found her in the ravine, one of them was missing.” She held out the nubbin of gold. “How did this end up in the trunk of your car?”
Susan watched as Brooke processed this information. As its significance slowly dawned on her.
Brooke shook her head. Said softly, “This can’t be happening.”
“ Think about it, Brooke. My daughter’s missing ear stud ends up in your car. How did it get there?”
“Colin would never—”
“Put my daughter in the trunk? Drive her to that lookout and throw her into the ravine? Who else was strong enough to do all that? Not you.”
“You’re wrong. You’ve got to be wrong!” Legs suddenly wobbling, Brooke stumbled backward and sank onto the bed.
“I’m sorry, Brooke,” Susan said quietly. “I have to call the police.”
Brooke took a shuddering breath and dropped her head in her hands. “God, I don’t understand. Why would he do this? Why would he hurt her?”
“That’s something for the police to find out,” said Susan, and she walked out of the room.
In the hallway, she paused to take a deep breath, to calm her racing heart. She pulled out her cell phone. What she was about to do would set off an irreversible chain of events: The police swarming in to search Colin’s car, the entire house. The high-and-mighty Colin, arrested and thrust into the glare of publicity. She thought of Elizabeth’s words: Loyalty to family, above everything else. To hell with that. My daughter comes first. She’d go downstairs, out of Brooke’s earshot, and call Jo Thibodeau. Then she’d get out of this house, away from the Conovers. Away from Elizabeth, the family puppeteer, the one whose every word must be obeyed. She headed to the landing, took the first step down.
That’s when two hands slammed into her back, a shove so powerful it pitched her forward. Arms flailing, like a bird with broken wings, she fought to slow her descent, but she could not resist the relentless pull of gravity. The stairs dropped away before her, and she was falling, falling, an impossibly long plunge toward the bottom of the stairs. Brooke, was her last thought. Why?
The first thing to penetrate the darkness was Kit’s voice, pleading, desperate: “I don’t want to do this again, Mom. Please don’t make me do this.”
Then the pain exploded in her head, like a hammer pounding again and again against her skull. Between the cruel blows of that hammer, the voices faded in and out.
“We have to, darling,” said Brooke.
“Why? She doesn’t know anything.”
“Yes, she does, and she’ll tell the police. She’s not family, not really. Remember what Grandma always says. Family comes first. Now, hurry!”
Hands closed around Susan’s wrists and pulled, dragging her across the floor. That pitiless hammer kept pounding, pounding against her head. She opened her eyes, struggling to focus on the faces above her, but the light only made the pain pierce deeper into her skull.
“Where are we taking her?” said Kit. “Dad has the car.”
“We’ll put her in the pond.”
“You mean, drown her?”
“It’s the water that will do it, not us. That’s not murder, Kit, not when the water does it.”
Kit suddenly released Susan’s wrist. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. Remember our promise? I protect you, you protect me. Remember ?”
A whisper: “Yes.”
“Now let’s do it.”
Light faded to shadow as Susan was dragged outside and down the back steps. She felt the chill of the night air on her face, heard Brooke’s breathing, labored from the effort. Groaning, she struggled to wrench her hand free.
“She’s waking up!” said Kit.
“It doesn’t matter. Pull. ”
The grip around her wrists tightened, as overpowering as steel bands. She was being dragged across the lawn now, dampness from the grass soaking into her blouse. Down the slope they pulled her, closer and closer to the pond. She could hear water lapping against the shore, the creak of the floating dock. Brooke’s breathing had turned harsh, frantic.
Their shoes thumped onto wood.
Panic sent new strength coursing into Susan’s limbs. She fought them, her arms thrashing, feet kicking, but there were two of them, and she was still stunned and half blinded by pain.
With one brutal shove, they tipped her onto her side and rolled her off the dock.
The cold water shocked her fully awake. She splashed to the surface and gasped in a breath of air. Looming above, Brooke and Kit stared down at her, two black cutouts against the background of a starry night sky.
“Please, Kit!” she gasped. “Don’t do this!”
“Hold her down,” Brooke ordered.
Kit remained frozen, crouching at the edge of the dock.
Desperate, Susan reached up to grasp the dock. Began pulling herself up.
“ Kit! ” his mother ordered, but her son did not move. Brooke stood up, raised her foot, and slammed her shoe down on Susan’s hand.
Susan screamed and lost her grip. Down she went again into the water, so cold. So dark. Once again, she surfaced, took another breath.
Swim away. Get away from them.
Across the pond, lights glowed in Reuben Tarkin’s house. If she could just reach him, if she could scream for his help—
Brooke grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so brutally that Susan’s skull thudded against the dock. She had time for only one last breath before her head was shoved underwater. This she could not fight. The woman forcing her down was as unforgiving as stone, as merciless as the stones that had dragged Jane Doe to her grave at the bottom of the pond. Wildly, Susan clawed at the hands that were holding her underwater, but those hands were unyielding. Her heart thrashed. Her lungs shrieked for air. She could hold her breath no longer.
Zoe. I love you.
She opened her mouth and water rushed into her throat.