Page 34 of Bone Echo

She raced off to get the broom and the dust pan, but not before she sent the girls back to their rooms to get dressed. “Right this minute!” she yelled as they raced off.

Dudley stood in the middle of his living room feeling like a failure. To be chastised in front his children was humiliating enough, but to feel as if he had failed them and his wife was a burden he never expected to bear. All his life, he and Charlie had sworn they would never be like their own parents, careless, selfish alcoholics who neglected family to the point that Social Service officers were often sent out by one school teacher or another who had reported the Stephens boys were undernourished and threadbare.

Realizing he still wore the trousers that had blood spatters above the spot where his protective shoe coverings stopped, he hurried to the shower to strip and try to wash away the stench of death that clung to him. Afterward he made his way to the kitchen where the coffee pot was still hot and the coffee strong, just the way he liked it. Lest he take that as a sign his wife still cared about him, the lipstick on her cup reminded him that she liked her coffee the same way.

He heard his children upstairs, chattering and scurrying around as they dressed for school. Two cereal bowls with remnants of the corn flakes they’d had for breakfast still sat on the kitchen table. He rinsed them out and put them in the dishwasher.

He reached to add his wife’s cup, but then, what if she wanted another cup before she left for work? He’d feel the sting of her tongue.

Indecision over such a small matter made his head hurt. He was saved by the ringing of his Blackberry. He pulled the smart phone out of his pocket.

“Dudley,” he said.

“You need to get down to the station.” It was Jack. “We’ve just had a 911 call from your sister-in-law.”

“Has she found Charlie?”

“No. Someone broke into her house.”

Dudley turned to see his wife standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “You work all night and now you have to go to into work early.”

It wasn’t a question. “That’s what I do.”

She glared at him, her lips pursed, a dozen unspoken accusations on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she grabbed her cup, turned her back to him and poured herself another cup of coffee. She glanced briefly over her shoulder. “Don’t forget Elizabeth Ann’s piano recital at seven.”

“I won’t.”

She turned her back. “You missed her last one.”

What was the use in saying,I know. Gloria Jean just wanted him to know she was keeping a tally of his shortcomings, and he was already so deep in the doghouse he might never get out.

CHAPTER SIX

West Memphis

Laura met Dudley and his partner at the door, the dark circles under her eyes evidence of a sleepless night. Something in him cracked.

“Laura.” He caught her hand between his. “I loved my brother. I want to help you through this.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. She glanced up at him, briefly, then turned away, her whisper barely audible. “I know.” Then she turned and led them into the den.

Her navy slacks and crisp yellow blouse looked freshly pressed, but she’d buttoned her blouse up wrong so the neckline sagged on one side. She was usually a stickler for neatness, cleanliness, and punctuality.

Blue throw pillows lay on the floor in front of her beige sofa. The calico cat lying atop one scampered away when they walked in. A darker blue blanket was wadded at one end. The serving bar between the den and the kitchen was littered with a cereal box, two empty boxes of frozen chicken pot pies, and an openbag of potato chips. The sink in the kitchen beyond was piled high with dirty dishes.

Was this departure from routine a sign of grief or guilt?

Dudley couldn’t tell by looking at the careful blank of her face. For a woman who had just called in a break-in, she was remarkably composed. Was she still in shock, or covering up a deed so unthinkable it made him dizzy to even consider it?

He caught the back of a wing chair, then sank into it. Jack gave him an anxious look then stood beside him. A sentinel. Always ready to help his partner, he took over the questioning.

“Mrs. Stephens, can you tell us why you called 911? What happened here?”

She nodded. “I was in the kitchen, trying to… trying to clean up the mess.”

She choked up, and Dudley felt a wrench of guilt. He had failed both her and Charlie.

“Take your time, Laura,” he said. “Can I get you anything? A glass of water?”

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