do to help?” she asked.
“You’ve already done it,” I said. “I’m so grateful you could come over and be with the kids tonight. Did Taylor ever wake up?”
Jill shook her head. “Nope. She slept through the whole thing. Cops and all.”
I winced. “Do the police have any theories about what happened here tonight?”
“If they do, they weren’t telling me.” Jill raised an eyebrow. “Of course, they couldn’t keep me from listening when they were talking to each other.”
“And?”
“And they didn’t find any signs of forced entry.”
Suddenly I felt cold. “You mean Hilda let her attacker in.”
“It looks that way,” Jill said grimly. “And it also looks as if this wasn’t a robbery. The police asked me to check around and see if anything was missing. I couldn’t spot any glaring aberrations. Your desk was a mess, but your desk is always a mess.”
“I suppose you shared that little nugget with the police.”
Jill nodded. “I did, but they didn’t seem very interested. Actually, the one thing they seemed really interested in was some towel. From what they said, I gathered the paramedics must have taken it with them to the hospital.”
“They did,” I said. “It was one of my kitchen towels. Whoever attacked Hilda had folded it to make a little pillow under her head.”
“That’s sick.” Jill’s voice was icy.
“Sick or compassionate. I guess the folded towel could suggest remorse.”
“A little late for that, wasn’t it?” Jill drained her glass and headed for the liquor cabinet. “Care for a refill?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “My stomach’s doing nip-ups. Oh, Jill, I’m so glad Taylor didn’t see Hilda. She really loves her. So does Angus.”
“He gave me a pretty graphic description of the scene you walked into tonight.”
“My son has had one hell of a weekend. So have we all, come to think of it.” I stood up. “I’m going to grab a shower and get out of this dress. When Angus told me about Mieka, I was so excited, I forgot to pack anything but my toothbrush and a change of underwear. I’ve been wearing this outfit since Saturday afternoon.”
“ ‘Fashion File’ says that once you get a look that works for you, you should stay with it.”
“I think I’ve stayed with this one long enough. Jill, I really am grateful that Angus had you to talk to. Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, beneath all that hip-hop-happenin’ attitude, he’s a pretty sensible kid. He’s worried, of course, but he’s handling it.” She looked at me hard. “How are you doing?”
“Not great,” I said. “But I’m coping, and I’ll cope even better when I get some sleep.” I finished my drink. A thought hit me. “Jill, is the kitchen … ?”
“Taken care of,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said. “I couldn’t have faced that.” I stood up. My legs felt rubbery. “Would you mind staying here tonight? If I have to go back to the hospital, I’d like somebody to be here with the kids.”
Jill smiled. “I brought my toothbrush, just in case.”
I slept fitfully, listening for the phone that, mercifully, did not ring and trying, without success, to banish the images of the night. The pictures of Hilda’s suffering were sharp-edged, but the scene that made my heart pound was one that existed only in my imagination: my old friend, in her cheerful summer outfit, hearing the doorbell, putting down Justine’s papers and walking down the hall to admit her attacker. But who had been on the other side of that door? In the week since Justine’s murder, Hilda had travelled in circles I could only guess at, among men and women whose characters were a mystery to me. For hours, I moved between sleep and consciousness, trying to conjure up the face of her assailant, but it was a futile exercise. By the time my alarm went off, I knew there was no turning away from the truth: any one of a hundred people could have picked up that croquet mallet and tried to end my old friend’s life.
I dialled the number of Pasqua Hospital. Hilda had made it through the night, but there was no change in her condition. For a few minutes I lay in bed, thinking about the day ahead. I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Jill was at the sink filling the coffeepot when I got back from the park with Rose. She was wearing the same white shorts and black NationTV sweatshirt she’d had on the night before, but her auburn hair was damp from the shower, and