"I just gave him a sleeping pill. Can't this wait?"
"It won't take a minute," said Oren. "I promise."
Hannah bent down to William Swahn, laying one hand on his shoulder, and they held the silent conversation of friends for life. She asked by a worried look if she should stay and defend him. Swahn smiled in assurance that there was no need to fight for him-but thanks.
When the housekeeper had quit the room, Oren said, "I've got a question about those pictures of you in the post office. Josh caught you passing an envelope to the librarian. You dropped it into her tote bag. If it was addressed to Mrs. Winston, I can see why you couldn't just mail it. Half the gossip in town comes from the postmaster."
Swahn closed his eyes and turned his face away. The interview was over.
When Oren came out of the bedroom, he found Hannah sitting on the staircase. She reached up to hand him a prescription. "That's for his pain. Could you have it filled at the drugstore? Your father will be here by the time you get back. So there shouldn't be any more questions about those pictures of Mr. Swahn and Mavis."
"Eavesdropping, Hannah?" He sat down beside her.
"Mr. Swahn's a gentleman. He won't tell you what was in that envelope. But I will. The judge used to do the same thing for years. The line at the post office was the best place for it. Before we had rural delivery, Mavis always picked up her mail at the same time every morning. Coventry didn't have anything as grand as welfare, and Mavis hadn't seen a paycheck for a while. You may have noticed-no one goes to the library anymore. Officially, it was closed for years. But Mavis still showed up for work every day."
"A creature of habit."
"Right. And crazy. I'm sure you noticed that, too. So, once a month, people with money-like the judge, like Mr. Swahn-they'd slip her some cash on the sly. It was done that way so she wouldn't have to thank anybody. The envelopes were labeled as donations to the library, and that was to save her pride. I know Addison was generous, too. His envelopes were the thickest ones. It took the judge a long time to force the town council into reinstating Mavis so she could get regular paychecks. But back then, she was the town charity."
Hannah shook her head, slowly, sadly. "Josh and his collection of secrets. Hanging that one out in public made your father so mad. Only a handful of people would've understood what was going on in those pictures, and maybe a year passed by before any of them caught on to what the boy had done-exposing a sick woman that way. The judge was the first one to notice. I remember when he came home from the post office-so angry. His last conversation with your brother was an argument. After that, they didn't speak for days. And then Josh was gone-dead."
Oren stopped on the sidewalk outside the drugstore. Down the street, Alice Friday stood on the verandah of the Straub Hotel. The psychic was keeping watch on the judge's Mercedes. Well, if she wanted a word with him, the feeling was mutual. He had read her old interview with the sheriff and memorized every line:
Alice Friday: I know that boy is dead. Only the dead speak to me.
Sheriff Babitt: Josh went missing a year ago. So that's hardly a revelation from the great beyond. Did the Ouija board tell you where to look for his body?
Alice Friday: The dead don't care about such things. I can tell you he's not at peace. Josh's death was violent.
Sheriff Babitt: Lady if you know something about that kid, you-
Alice Friday: He's my spirit guide. Now I came here today because I have a question for you. Josh keeps asking me all the time. What about the other one? Josh says you'd know about that. Now what does he mean?
Sheriff Babitt: If you were a real psychic, you'd know I'm planning to boot your bony ass out of my office.
Oren walked toward the Mercedes. He was about to open the door when the psychic noticed him and waved. Evelyn Straub came outside as Alice Friday ran down the steps and crossed the street, yelling, "Young man!" When she had closed the distance, she stood before him, thin arms folded, her stance resolute. "You shouldn't have walked out in the middle of my séance. You have to come back. Your brother isn't done with you."
He was distracted by the speeding car, a standout in the crawl of Coventry traffic, and now Alice Friday also stared at this unusual sight. A redhead sat behind the wheel and aimed her automobile at Oren. He pushed the psychic into a space between parked vehicles, and then he rolled onto the trunk of the Mercedes. The nose of the black sports car almost kissed his rear bumper.
Isabelle Winston had looked right through him as if he were not there, as if-
"That woman tried to kill us." Alice Friday's words were hushed. Her eyes were startled and wide.
"No," said Oren. "She tried to kill me."
This distinction was lost on the stick-thin woman. She reached into her purse to produce a small notebook and a pen. "Not to worry. I got a good look at the license plate." After jotting down the numbers, she saw the stout hotelier crossing the street, and she yelled, "Evelyn, go call the sheriff!"
"Not a good idea." Evelyn Straub walked up to the smaller woman. "Cable's got enough to deal with this morning."
Alice Friday grabbed Oren's arm. "That woman tried to murder him with her car."
"No," said Evelyn, "that's just how they say hello."
The glazier's truck was gone, and the cleaning lady's car had also departed. Oren was surprised to see the yellow stray standing at attention in front of William Swahn's door. The animal must have followed the judge down the road to Paulson Lane.
Addison Winston sat on the hood of his Porsche, dangling his legs as he engaged in a staring contest with the wary stray, trying to win over a dog with his professional smile. The lawyer shrugged and turned to Oren. "I've got a great lawsuit to pitch to my client. Did you see those news broadcasts? He can get millions from the TV station and the California Bureau. But Hannah won't let me inside."
"The CBI agent had nothing to do with what happened last night."
"Sally's interview incited the-"
"That was no interview. That was an ambush."
"Why let the truth get in the way of a tasty lawsuit?"
Oren climbed the steps to the front door and leaned down to pet the yellow stray. "Don't press your luck with any more cops. That bogus settlement in LA might come back to bite you."
"We had a deal, Oren."
"Your client is the wild card. I think he's putting it together all by himself. When Hannah barred the door, she probably did you a favor."
News of attempted vehicular homicide traveled fast.
The judge and Hannah were sitting at the table when Oren entered William Swahn's kitchen. Their conversation suddenly stopped.
That was a clue.
His father winked at the housekeeper, and then looked up with a pretense of shock. "I heard Belle Winston tried to run you down."
Hannah smiled. "Never dull, is it? I love this town." She rose from the table to fetch another cup and pour him some coffee.
Oren thanked her when she set it down in front of him, and then he let the two of them sit and wait. The judge was foiled by his own policy of never asking an obvious question, such as why would the Winston girl try to kill him? Oren sipped his coffee-slowly-and slowly he set down his cup to gaze out the window and watch the clouds roll by-while listening to his father's tapping foot beneath the table.
Finally, he said to no one in particular, " Alice Friday moved to Coventry a year after Josh disappeared. She knows Mrs. Winston, but she didn't recognize the daughter."
"Well, Belle's only been back for a few months," said Hannah. "I guess she's never been to one of Alice 's séances."