Life Penalty Read Free Page B

“I think we better go inside.” She felt an arm around her shoulder, felt herself being drawn across the threshold of her front door.
    “Where’s Cindy?” she said again, slightly louder. The hands led her into the living room and sat her down on the peach and green print sofa.
    “We’ve called your husband. He’s on his way.”
    “Where’s Cindy?” Gail screamed. Her eyes sought out those of her older daughter. “Where is she?”
    “She didn’t come home,” Jennifer was crying. “I got home from school right away like you asked me to, and I waited but she didn’t come back. So I called Mrs. Hewitt’s to see if Linda was home yet, and her nanny said that Linda had gotten sick at school and she’d had to go pick her up early. She said she called to tell you but no one was home.”
    “She must have gotten lost,” Gail said quickly, blocking out the knowledge that her house would not be filled with policemen had her younger child simply gotten lost on her way home from school. “She’s never gone home by herself before. I would never allow it.”
    “Mrs. Walton,” the policeman beside her said gently,“can you tell us what your daughter had on when she left for school this morning?”
    Gail frantically looked around the room trying to picture what Cindy had been wearing, able only to see the child’s dark blond hair falling over her forehead and into her eyes, remembering that she had thought about clipping the bangs before they got so long that Cindy wouldn’t be able to see. She saw the laughing blue eyes, the once fat cheeks now slim and finely structured, the small, full mouth with its missing two bottom front teeth. And the purple velvet dress at least one size too small. “She was wearing a purple velvet dress with smocking across the front, and a little white lace collar,” Gail told them as quickly as she remembered. “I told her that it was too small and that it was too hot to wear velvet, but once she makes up her mind, there’s no talking to her, and so I just gave in and let her wear it.” She paused. Why had she told them that? She could see by their expressions that they had no interest in the suitability of the dress to the weather. “She was wearing white socks and red shoes,” Gail continued. “Party shoes. She didn’t like running shoes or shoes with laces. She only liked shoes with buckles. And dresses. She would never wear trousers. She was a very feminine little girl.” Gail’s hand flew to her mouth with the shock of what she had just said. She only
liked
shoes with buckles. She
was
a very feminine little girl. She had been talking about her daughter in the past tense. “Oh my God,” she moaned, falling back against the pillows, wanting to pass out, trying to will her body into oblivion. “Where’s my little girl?” she asked in a voice so low and distant it was barely audible.
    The front door opened and suddenly Jack was beside her, his arms around her, his lips brushing against her cheek. “Do they know yet?” he asked.
    “Know what?” Gail demanded.
    The policeman who had brought her into the room now sat down across from her on a chair. Gail found her eyes being drawn to his face, surprised to find that it was quite a young face. “A child’s body was discovered about half an hour ago in the bushes by the small park just down from Riker Hill Elementary School,” he said evenly, careful to keep his voice nondescript. “It was found by some boys on their way home from school. Apparently, they cut through the park every afternoon. They heard some sounds coming from the bushes. They saw someone running off. When they went to see, they found the girl’s body.” He stopped as if waiting for Gail to interrupt, but she said nothing, kept staring at the light beige broadloom at her feet, waiting for him to continue. “At about the same time that we got there, your daughter came running up the street looking for her sister. We brought her back here and called