Page 18 of Witness 8

John looked to Alison, the wound from that question landing in his chest, punching the air from his body. As quickly as the hurt registered, John shook it off. He didn’t want to worry his little boy, or let him see that his father was deeply upset.

He knelt down to Tomas, ‘Why would you ask that?’

‘I heard two of the teachers whispering today. They were pointing at me. They didn’t think I could hear them, but Ilistened real hard and I heard every word. They said you did a bad thing and they felt sorry for me.’

John’s brow creased. A menacing look flashed over his face. The expression quickly disappeared, and John smiled at his son. He kept his voice low, and as he spoke the light from the hallway lamp caught on the tear forming in the corner of his eye.

‘What bad thing did they say I did?’

‘They said you killed a nice lady,’ said Tomas, and burst into tears.

‘No, no, no, I didn’t, son. I promise youI did not. Some people are confused right now. The police have made a mistake. I didn’t hurtanyone.’

As John led Tomas into the living room by the hand, Alison turned away. Ruby could only see her back. Alison cupped her hand over her mouth and sobbed, silently, her shoulders heaving. Ruby stepped forward, making her feet loud and purposeful, so Alison would hear her approach and would not be startled when Ruby put her hand on her shoulder and began to comfort her.

‘Oh, Ruby, thank you. I don’t know what we would do without you,’ said Alison.

‘I’m here for you. For whatever you need. Whenever you need me,’ said Ruby.

She gave Alison a napkin to dry her tears. The skin around her eyes was inflamed and swollen. This wasn’t the first time Ruby had heard Alison crying today. Ruby had not been present when the police raided the house. She’d been with one of her other clients, laundry day at the McSorley’s. The day after the murder, Ruby had been at the Pullers’, looking after their rotten kids as Chad puked his guts out upstairs. The detective had asked Ruby where she’d been last night. She told them the truth: she had left the Pullers’ after midnight and walked home. Shelied when she said she’d not seen anything, and not heard any shots.

Alison wiped her tears. Ruby spent a few more minutes with Alison, calming her. Telling her everything would be alright.

They both heard the sound of a key in the lock and turned to face the front door.

Esther wrestled her key from the lock as she stepped into the hallway. Alison’s mother had shocking white hair in a loose curl and brown eyes that always betrayed her true feelings. She wore a tan suit, black patent-leather Christian Louboutin heels and carried a Gucci shopping bag in one hand. In her seventies, but good for it. Plastic surgery, a rich dead husband and very little conscience had kept her looking young.

Ruby didn’t like Esther. Because Esther didn’t like Ruby. At first, Ruby thought it was a territorial thing. Another young woman, working in her daughter’s house. Always around her daughter’s handsome brain surgeon husband. Esther had been a player in her younger days. That was the impression Ruby had. And perhaps Esther thought she spotted a fellow grifter in Ruby.

She closed the front door, embraced Alison, said, ‘My darling, how is he?’

‘He’s okay, I think. We got the lawyer we wanted. He’s in the living room with Tomas. Give him a minute.’

Esther didn’t ask how her daughter was feeling. Ruby noticed that. She got the impression Alison noticed it too.

‘Ruby, how are you?’ said Esther, and contorted her face into what passed for a smile, but her eyes always let Esther down. The cold look she gave Ruby was unaffected by what the rest of her face was doing. Esther’s gaze sometimes reminded her of the way her grandmother used to look at her.

Ruby said she was okay, but Esther had already turned away from her. She shook off her tan jacket and without looking at Ruby held it out for her to hang up.

Ruby hung the jacket on the coat rail on the opposite wall from the priest picture. It began to whisper in its low hiss, as if there were layers of voices inside her head.

Ruubbbeeee . . .

You have to hurry. Get the money. Your mother doesn’t have long left . . .

Ruby turned sharply, and in her mind she told the priest to be quiet.

‘Do you like that picture?’ asked Esther.

Ruby hadn’t realized that Esther was standing in the hallway. She’d thought the woman had gone through to the living room. But she was still there, staring at Ruby inquisitively.

‘Ah, sure. It’s . . .’ She was about to say the picture was lovely, but it wasn’t. It was ugly and frightening, and it haunted her. ‘It looks very old. Is it expensive?’

‘It’s worth a lot of money, yes. More thanyoucould earn in a lifetime,’ said Esther.

Ruby’s skin began to crawl, as if Esther was looking right through her. Quickly, Ruby said her goodbyes to Alison and said it would be better to leave the family to some private time.

She lifted her backpack and closed the front door softly behind her. She headed across Riverside Drive to the Henry Hudson Parkway, then on to the Empire State Trail on the Hudson River Greenway. Her feet took her to Pier One. There were few people around, even in summer. Line fishermen and tourists. At the end of the pier, Ruby leaned over the rail and glanced back at Manhattan, the glass towers, the contour of the island, and then returned her eyes to the mud-gray waters of the Hudson.