Page 60 of I Know She Was There

“The good news is that your body seems to tolerate it well.”

“Yes,” I said, thinking,too well. “I wish there was something to make me forget.”

She tilted her head to one side. “I understand why you would want to forget, but today you start fresh. You make new memories.”

I smiled at her optimistic view of the world. I felt so old, so tired, and worn out. When did I first begin to fear the prospect of making new memories? Probably the instant the old ones went up in flames.

* * *

The Uber dropped me home at 11:00 a.m. I instinctively felt my pockets for my front-door key but realized I didn’t have it. I remembered how Tim had pulled me out of my house nearly a week earlier, not allowing me to grab my handbag or lock the door behind me.

Mary may have locked it with her key. If so, she’d have to let me into my own house. She knew I was coming home. Dr. Ellison’s nurse told me Mary had dropped by the hospital the day before and learned I was being discharged this morning. I pictured her standing in front of her living-room window watching the cars amble along the street, waiting for the one that would drop me in front of my house. I shivered. The irony was undeniable. I thought of all the nights I’d lurked in the shadows of Deer Crossing, spying on others. I also wondered why she wouldn’t have swung by my hospital room when she’d been right there. When I was so desperate to know if she was okay, and whether or not she’d phoned the police.

I stepped out of the car and, looking at my front door, placed my hand against my breastbone, willing my heart to cease racing. Someone had invaded my home again. Watching Mary shuffle out of her house and across my yard, I once more considered it could be her.

As she chattered about neighbors helping each other out, she unlocked my front door and swung it wide. I wondered how I could get my spare key back. I didn’t think I was strong enough to wrestle it away from her, which was pathetic. I was fifty years younger. Thanking her stiffly, I followed her inside, my gaze darting around the room. Everything appeared to be the same, minus the alarm parts spread across the living room carpet. I stared at the spot.

“The alarm...”

“Don’t worry dear,” she offered, beelining through my house as though she were the homeowner.

“Was someone definitely in here, Mary?”

“I told you there was.” She paused halfway between the living room and kitchen and turned back to look at me. “Did you forget?”

“No, but you never called me back after I told you to alert the police.”

Mary shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Tim said not to. He told me he’d handle everything, and that the doctor requested I not bother you.”

My brows gathered over my eyes. “Why? Washethe one in the house?”

“Not that night, no—at least I don’t think so.” Mary wavered on her sturdy legs, looking confused. “I called him after I got off the phone with you. I figured it’s his house too. He’d want to come over and check things out. And he did, the next day. He even tidied up. He loaded a bunch of things in his car.”

“Damn it, Mary, why wouldn’t you just call the police?”

“I told you?—”

“Someone wasin my house!”

And then it occurred to me. Perhaps she feared the conversation I would have with the cops. Afraid I would reveal what she’d done to me. And to her husband.

“Caroline, just come over here, have a seat.” She flitted around the kitchen table like a foraging butterfly. “You must be very...”

I spooled out the breath in my lungs. Did Mary have plans for me? Was she going to imprison me in my own house? Maybe tie me up this time? I didn’t know a lot about her. Maybe her frantic call to me reporting an intruder was a ruse. A way to get me home faster. Was she somehow in cahoots with Tim? What would she have to gain? What advantage would Tim have, for that matter? I felt the pulse throb in my neck. Something wasn’t right. Fear prickled the hairs at my nape, traveling up my scalp. I’d have to play it cool, try to placate the old lady until I could figure out what her angle was.

“I wouldn’t betray you, you know,” I said, keeping my voice calm, my tone even.

Mary’s face went blank, her features appearing two-dimensional. Stuck onto her face as an afterthought. “Betray me, dear?”

“I’d never tell the police about what you did to your husband, or that you drugged me. I know you’re?—”

“Drugged you?” Mary leaned forward, her eyes and mouth turning to perfect O’s. “I never did that!”

“You most certainly did, Mary. The night I came to stay with you, but it’s okay?—”

She dropped to a kitchen chair, placing her hand against her chest so abruptly I feared she was having a heart attack. “Good heavens, no!”

I narrowed my eyes as I walked toward her. “But you made me that drink before I went to bed. It was a strong drink.”

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