Wednesday passed in the same way. Afraid she'd somehow give the game away if she talked to anybody, Jane kept to the house. Only one strange incident marked the day. Around lunchtime the phone rang, but when she answered, the caller hung up. A half an hour later it rang again, and after a long silence there was something like a sob and then a click and a dial tone. Jane tried to convince herself it was Joyce Greenway trying to make an approach and unable to pull herself together. But she was still troubled.
She dialed Joyce's number, just to see who would answer, but no one did.
About nine o'clock that evening, Willard'shead suddenly came up from between his feet, and he howled horribly before running for cover. "What was that?" Uncle Jim asked.
“It sounded like a knock at the patio door!" Jane said, hearing nothing now but the pounding of her own heart in her ears.
Uncle Jim went to investigate and came back looking disgusted. "Damned fools came to the wrong house. There's no hope in hell for this.”
She assumed he meant the officers who were supposed to be sneaked into Shelley's house. "Why the back door?"
“Because they came across that field out back.”
Mike, who'd been sprawled in front of the fire reading Great Expectations, was now watching them with open curiosity. It was time to explain to him. Leaving out the specifics of the blackmail and the whole episode of the paring knife in the mattress, Jane gave him a summary of the plan for tomorrow. "You can see that it's very important that none of you change plans and come home until we know it's safe. You must wait for me to pick you up from school.”
He took it very well. She could never be sure when his maturity was going to come through and when it was going to crumble. "Sure, Mom.And Todd'll do what he's told without having to know why. But what about Katie? You never know where she'll turn up. I know! I'll tell her Johnny Hervey is coming home with us in the car; she'd wait forever so she wouldn't miss the chance to sit next to him in the backseat."
“Who in the world is Johnny Hervey?"
“You don't know him, but she does," he said with a leer.
Jane went to bed early, but slept fitfully. She kept hearing the middle-of-the-night creaks the house made and imagining sinister happenings. What would happen tomorrow? Had she and Shelley really made the horrible mistake Uncle Jim and Mel VanDyne claimed? What if it didn't work? Would they ever know which of their friends was a killer, or would they just go from day to day and year to year wondering… always wondering?
Twenty-three
She was awake long before the alarm went off. Going downstairs, she peeked out the windows at the Nowacks' house and the street. Everything looked absolutely normal. As soon as it was fully light, Paul came out, backed the car to the end of the driveway, then got out and returned to the house for his briefcase. Jane wondered it that was for real or planned to make sure any possible watcher was thoroughly aware of his leaving.
Jane drove Katie to cheerleading practice, came back and took the boys to band practice, and was home before Todd was picked up. "Hey, Mom, old thing. You look kinda sick or something," he said as Dorothy Wallenberg's Mazda pulled up.
“Just tired, Todd, old thing. I'll take a nap today and be gorgeous by this afternoon.”
Dorothy just waved to her and drove off when Todd got in the car. Apparently this wasn't going to be an exact replica of the last time or she'd have had her cake along.
Back inside, Uncle Jim was opening a can of cat food, having taken seriously his role as member of the family. "What'll you do?" she asked him.
“As soon as you two leave, I'll slip across to the Nowacks' behind that hedge."
“So you think it's a near neighbor — Laura or Suzie or somebody on the block who can see the house, instead of Robbie?"
“It's possible.”
She had a feeling he knew more than he was telling her, but this wasn't the time to try to pry anything out of him — not that she'd have any success anyway.
A few minutes later a blue Happy Helper van stopped in front of Shelley's. There was only one person besides the driver. The door opened and Edith got out. Jane had been afraid she wouldn't show up, in spite of Shelley's efforts.
At nine-thirty, Jane strolled across the two driveways and knocked on Shelley's door. "Come in," Shelley said.
“Where's Edith?" Jane asked.
“Upstairs in the master bedroom with an officer, being questioned and kept out of sight.”
There was the sound of heavy footsteps in the room above, a male voice mumbling from the basement stairway, and Mel VanDyne and another man were in the living room, talking quietly over some paper work. He looked up at the sound of Jane's voice. "Ah, Mrs. Jeffry. Are you ready to leave?" He sounded cranky.
“No, I'm not leaving," Jane said.
“What?" Shelley and VanDyne spoke in unison.
“This is my idea and I'm going to see it through," Jane insisted.
“Oh, it's your idea, all right," VanDyne drawled sarcastically, "but you're not seeing it through. In fact, if you don't get out of here right now, I'll have you arrested and taken away for interfering with an officer doing his duty."
“Jane, be sensible," Shelley implored. "If we aren't seen leaving, it'll wreck the plan. The whole point is to make it appear Edith is here alone. Come along right now!”
Jane might have marshaled a further argument, except at that moment her attention was diverted to a figure at the head of the stairway. Edith. No, not Edith. A woman with blond frizzy hair and a Happy Helper uniform that looked very much like the cleaning lady. "Hey, Mel, what time you got?" the figure said in a deep, male voice.
“That's a man!" Jane exclaimed.
“You didn't think they'd let the murderer actually attack Edith, did you?" Shelley asked. In a single, quick motion, she grabbed Jane's arm and steered her out the kitchen door before she could protest.
As per their instructions, they dawdled along, taking their time getting into Jane's station wagon. Shelley stopped and pointed to Jane's house and pretended to talk about the roof. Then they turned and looked at Shelley's roof. All this was to make sure that anyone who might be watching didn't miss their departure.
While they stood there, Mary Ellen Revere emerged from her house to get the paper and waved with her good arm. Suzie Williams tooted the horn merrily as she passed on her way to work. The Staplers' house showed no signs of life. Nor could Jane recognize any of the cars parked here and there along the street as suspicious.
At a discreet hand sign from Jane's kitchen window, she and Shelley got in the car and drove off. "Where are we going?" Shelley asked.
Jane didn't answer for a minute, then said, "Anywhere we want, just so they think we've gone, but we're coming back. I want to see what happens and make sure VanDyne doesn't screw anything up."
“If he heard you say that, he'd probably shoot you. I'm not sure I'd blame him. We are not going back until it's over."
“But Shelley—"
“No 'buts.' Consider yourself taken captive. I won't take you back there.”
They stopped at a fast-food drive-through and got danishes and coffee. Jane reluctantly dragged out a city map and pretended to look it over for possible destinations. "I know," Shelley said. "I know where there's a gardening supply store. Let's go look at bulbs and seeds and things. By the time we get there, have a nice look around and long lunch someplace, and then drive home, that ought to effectively eat up most of the day. Take a left out of here and then a right at the next stop light.”