Dave opened his mouth and a garbled bunch of words came tumbling out.
“The cops are looking for me everywhere and they may be here soon. They think I did it and they're right. I mean," he amended hastily after seeing the looks of horror and disbelief on Faith and Tom's faces, horror for Tom, disbelief for Faith, "they're right that I wanted to kill her. I didn't actually do it, but I could have. I really think I would have done it if somebody hadn't beaten me to it."
“ But Dave, if you didn't do it, why are you avoiding the police ? " Tom asked.
“It's a long story," he answered, looking out the window anxiously as if he expected MacIsaac to be peering in.
Faith took his arm and led him to the table.
“Sit down. I'll get us something to eat and you can tell us about it," she offered.
She put Ben in his playpen and stuck sonic plastic keys in his hand. He smiled benevolently at her. She was not deceived. She just hoped his fascination with the toy lasted long enough for Dave to tell his story.
She took some of her sour cream waffles from the freezer, put them in the microwave, and started the coffee. A lot of coffee. She had visited the Svensons and the house always smelled like freshly baked bread and Maxwell House. It was unusual to see one of the Svenson family without a mug in hand. Dave had started to talk again ; he grasped the cup she put in front of him as it was a lifeline.
“ Wednesday night Cindy and I had a wicked big fight. I had finally told her I couldn't marry her. I know I shouldn 't have waited this long, but every time I tried I just couldn't tell her. We'd been together so many years and—well, she could be very nice at times.”
Faith had a pretty good idea of what being nice meant and gave a small knowing nod toward Tom.
“I came home and told my parents and I planned to tell the Moores on Thursday, but I didn't want to see Cindy. I knew if I stayed away from her for a while I could stick to it. We've broken up before, but I always went back when she called. You don't know how much I've hated myself this past year. And hated her.”
Faith pried the empty mug from his grasp and gave him a refill along with a stack of waffles.
“ I'm sorry, Dave," Tom said, " I wish I could have helped you. I must confess I didn't think the marriage was a good idea, but I thought you wanted it."
“ So didn't everybody. Even my parents. I guess a lot of people thought I was marrying her for the money. And she did give me a lot of expensive things, like this watch." He looked at the Rolex on his wrist in horror as if it had suddenly started to ooze slime. He quickly took it off and dropped it on the floor. Faith retrieved it and put it on the counter. A Rolex was a Rolex, after all.
“The truth is, I was marrying her because I didn't have the guts not to. She's had her whole life planned since she was eight years old. She picked me then and in her mind there was no backing out. But I did."
“Dave, just because you fought doesn 't mean the police suspect you," Tom said firmly.
“ Maybe not, but the fact that the person she was waiting for in the belfry was me does."
“What ? " Faith exclaimed.
Dave nodded his head. The circles under his eyes madehim look like an underripe jack o 'lantern. One of the sad ones.
“She called my house all day Thursday and I wouldn 't talk to her, then Friday she called at the crack of dawn and told my mother her parents wanted an explanation, which was a lie, I 'm pretty sure. She never told them anything. But my mother was getting upset, so I told Mom to tell her I'd see her and she said she'd be waiting in the belfry at noon. We used to go up there a lot."
“S-E-X," Faith mouthed over his head. Tom pretended not to see.
“She called back later to make sure I'd gotten the message and Mrs. McKinley was there drinking coffee with Mom and heard the whole thing. So you know there wasn 't a person in Aleford who didn 't know I was meeting Cindy in the belfry."
“But Dave," Faith said, "I started walking up the hill around noon and I didn 't see you and I would have. It's not that big and the top is flat."
“That's because I didn't go. I didn't like going against my mother, but she didn 't know Cindy the way I did. I guess I didn 't trust myself and maybe I hoped I 'd make her so mad, she would agree to break up. I started going in that direction, then turned and went for a walk in the woods by the railroad tracks instead. The later it got, the freer I felt. Then I went home, got my car, and drove into town to do some studying at the library. I didn 't even hear she was dead until I got home last night."
“ And of course nobody saw you down at the tracks," Tom said.
“That's the problem. Some guy on a dirt bike buzzed by, but I have no idea who it was or what time he was there," Dave answered morosely.
“I know they're looking for me" he went on, "be- cause they've been to the house twice. My parents were worried sick and when I walked in they both started talking at once.”
Which must have been an event tantamount to sunshine in Stockholm in January for the taciturn Svenson household, Faith reflected.
“They hadn't told the police anything except that I was at school and things were fine between Cindy and me.”
Dave was a senior at BU and had applied to law school for the following year. He had wanted to get a degree in agriculture at U Mass, but Cindy did not fancy herself a farmer 's wife, even the kind of farmer Dave had wanted to be, a researcher in alternative food sources. " It's all cow cakes, Dave, no matter how you slice it," she had said, laughing at him.
“When the police get me, they don't have to look any further. I wanted to do it and so far as anybody knows I was there. Even my parents thought I might have done it. I've been pretty crazy lately. All I know is I'm not going to be locked up."
“Dave, believe me we'll straighten this out. It looks bad, but we 'll do everything in our power to help you. You must remember, God protects the innocent. Hold on to that," Tom consoled.
“Thank you. I guess that's why I came. I need your help, though unless you find out who the real murderer is, I'm not sure what you can do."
“Then that's what we'll have to do," Faith said briskly, suddenly seeing Dave twenty years ago, a replica of her own darling babe. The thought stabbed her, but it was nothing compared to the hardball of a baleful glance that Tom threw across the table. She took it bravely full in the face and got some more waffles. Benjamin was still contentedly in training for a lock-picking career.
After Faith had spoken Dave looked a lot better, eating waffles steadily and to all appearances without a care in the world save whether State would take the pennant this year or not. It amazed Faith that even someone as relatively grown up as Dave still invested real adults with so much power. Faith considered herself to be one of the real adults since starting her business and even more since Benjamin was born. Unreal adults were all those yuppies somewhere in their twenties for decades who appeared intent only on making a fortune, brushing their teeth, and having an inordinate amount of fun. They weathered market fluctuations and favorite restaurant closings with equal aplomb. The wages of sin weren't what they used to be.
Tom continued to look at her, cartoonlike balloons coming out of his mouth : "Don't make promises you can't keep.”
“This could be dangerous.”
“Stay out of it."
“I don't see why I can 't devote a little time to thinking about all this," Faith muttered to herself. "It's not as if I'm going to get myself killed.”
She had leaned over to pick up Benjamin, who had started to demand a new diversion, when they heard a car pull into the drive. Dave was out the back way before the engine stopped.