A Cry in the Night Read online

  A low, harsh laugh behind her. “Erich, oh, Erich, I didn’t mean . . .”

  But he was gone, his footsteps decisively slapping the tiled floor. When she got to the car he was there, stony-faced, and did not speak to her on the way home.

  During the inquest the same questions were asked a dozen different ways. “Mrs. Krueger, Kevin MacPartland told a number of people you had invited him to come to your home in your husband’s absence.”

  “I did not.”

  “Mrs. Krueger what is the phone number of your home?”

  She gave it.

  “Do you know the telephone number of the Guthrie Theater?”

  “I do not.”

  “Let me tell you or perhaps refresh your memory. It is 555-2824. Is it familiar to you?”

  “No.”

  “Mrs. Krueger, I am holding a copy of the March telephone bill from Krueger Farm. A call to the Guthrie Theater appears on this bill dated March ninth. Do you still deny making that call?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Is this your coat, Mrs. Krueger?”

  “Yes, I gave it away.”

  “Do you have a key to the Krueger residence?”

  “Yes, but I’ve mislaid it.” The coat, she thought. Of course it was in the pocket of the coat. She told the prosecutor that.

  He held up something, a key; the ring had her initials, J.K. The key Erich had given her.

  “Is this your key?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “Did you give it to anyone, Mrs. Krueger? Please tell us the truth.”

  “No, I did not.”

  “This key was found in Kevin MacPartland’s hand.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  On the stand Maude unhappily, doggedly, repeated the story she had told Jenny. “He said his ex-wife wanted to see him and I pointed the road. I’m very sure of the date. He came the night after my son’s dog was killed.”

  Clyde Toomis on the stand was embarrassed, tongue-tied, but patiently honest. “I told my wife she had her own good everyday winter coat. I scolded her for accepting it. I put that maroon coat back in the closet in the hall off the kitchen of Krueger farmhouse myself, put it there the very day my wife wore it home.”

  “Did Mrs. Krueger know that?”

  “Don’t know how she coulda missed it. The closet ain’t that big and I hung it right next to that ski jacket she wears all the time.”

  I didn’t notice, Jenny thought, but knew it was possible she simply hadn’t paid attention.

  Erich testified. The questions were brief, respectful. “Mr. Krueger, were you at home the night of Monday, March ninth?”

  “Did you make known your plans to paint in your cabin that night?”

  “Were you aware your wife had been in contact with her former husband?”

  Erich might have been talking about a stranger. He answered with detachment, weighing his words, unemotional.

  Jenny sat in the first row watching him. Not for a second did his glance meet hers. Erich, who hated even talking on the phone, Erich, who was one of the most private people she had ever known, who had become estranged from her because he was upset about Kevin’s phone call and her meeting with him.

  The inquest was over. When he summed up, the coroner said that a severe bruise on the right temple of the deceased might have been incurred during the impact of the crash or might have been inflicted previous to it.

  The official verdict was death by drowning.

  But as Jenny left the courthouse she knew the verdict that the community had passed. At the least she was a woman who had been seeing her former husband clandestinely.

  At the worst she had murdered him.

  In the three weeks that followed the inquest, the dinners Erich ate with her fell into a pattern. He never spoke directly to her, only to the girls. He would say, “Ask Mommy to pass the rolls, Tinker Bell.” His tone was always warm and affectionate. It would have taken sensitive ears to pick up the tension between them.

  When she put the girls to bed, she never knew whether she would find him still in the house when she came downstairs. She wondered where he went. To the cabin? To the home of friends? She dared not ask. If he did sleep in the house, it was in the rear bedroom that his father had used for so many years.

  There was no one she could talk to. Something told her that he would get over it. There were times she caught him looking at her with such tenderness in his face that she had to restrain herself from putting her arms around him, begging him to believe in her.

  Quietly she mourned the waste of Kevin’s life. He could have accomplished so much; he had been so talented. If only he had disciplined himself, stayed away from involvements with women, drunk less.

  But how did her coat get in the car?

  One night she came downstairs to find Erich sipping coffee at the kitchen table.

  “Jenny,” he said, “we have to talk.”

  Not sure whether the emotion she felt was relief or anxiety, she sat down. After the girls were settled, she’d showered and put on her nightgown and the robe Nana had given her. She watched as Erich studied her.

  “That red is perfect against your hair. Dark cloud on scarlet. Symbolic, isn’t it? Like dark secrets in a scarlet woman. Is that why you wear it?”

  So this was to be the “talk.” “I put it on because I was cold,” Jenny said.

  “It’s very becoming. Maybe you’re expecting someone?”

  Odd, she thought, in the midst of all this I can still feel sorry for him. What had been worse for him, she wondered suddenly, Caroline’s death or the fact that Caroline had been planning to leave him?

  “I’m not expecting anyone, Erich. If you think I am, why not stay with me every night and reassure yourself?” She knew she should be outraged and furious but there was no emotion left in her except pity for him. He looked so troubled, so vulnerable. Always when he was upset he seemed younger, almost boyish.

  “Erich, I’m so sorry about all this. I know people are gossiping and how distressing this must be for you. I don’t have any logical explanation for what happened.”

  “Your coat.”

  “I don’t know how it got in that car.”

  “You expect me to believe that.”

  “I would believe you.”

  “Jenny, I want to believe you and I can’t. But I do believe this. If you agreed to let MacPartland come here, maybe you did want to warn him to stay away from us. I can accept that. But I can’t live with the lie. Admit you invited him down here and I’ll put this behind us. I can see how it happened. You didn’t want to bring him in the house so you had him drive to the dead end at the riverbank. You warned him and you had your key in your hand. Maybe he made a pass at you. Did you struggle? You slid out of your coat and got out of the car. Maybe when he went to reverse he went forward. Jenny, it’s understandable. But say so. Just don’t look at me with those wide, innocent eyes. Don’t look thin and wan like some kind of wounded victim. Admit you’re a liar and I promise I’ll never mention this again. We love each other so much. It’s still there, all that love.”

  At least he was being totally honest. She felt as though she were sitting on a mountain looking down into a valley, observing what was going on, a disinterested spectator.

  “It would almost be easier to do what you wanted,” she observed. “But it’s funny; we’re all the sum total of our lives. Nana despised liars. She was contemptuous of even the social life. ‘Jenny,’ she used to say, ‘don’t evade. If you don’t want to go on a date with someone just say no thank you, not that you have a headache or have to do math homework. Truth serves everyone best.’”

  “We’re not talking about math homework,” Erich said.

  “I’m going to bed, Erich,” she said. “Good night.” There was no point in continuing like this.

  Such a short time ago they’d gone upstairs arms around each other. To think she’d objected to wearing the aqua nightgown. It was so unimportant in retrospect.
>
  Erich did not answer her even though she went up the stairs slowly, giving him the chance to respond.

  She dropped off to sleep quickly, the exhaustion weighing her down, forcing her into weary dreams. She slept restlessly, always just under the conscious level, aware of herself moving around the bed. She was dreaming again; this time she was in the car, struggling with Kevin; he wanted the key. . . .

  Then she was in the woods, walking in them, searching. She flung up her arm to push away the nearness of the trees and touched flesh.

  Her fingers felt the outline of a forehead, the soft membrane of an eyelid. Long hair brushed her cheek.

  Biting her lips over the scream that tried to escape her throat, she bolted up and fumbled for the night-table light. She snapped it on and looked around wildly. There was no one there. She was alone in bed, in the room.

  She sank back on the pillows, her body trembling helplessly. Even her facial muscles were twitching.

  I’m going crazy, she thought. I’m losing my mind. For the rest of the night, she did not turn off the light and the first rays of dawn were filtering through the drawn shades before she finally fell asleep.

  23

  Jenny awoke to bright sunlight and instantly remembered what had happened. A bad dream, she thought, a nightmare. Embarrassed, she snapped off the table lamp and got out of bed.

  The weather was finally breaking. She stood at the window looking out at the woods. The trees were a mass of opening buds. From the chicken house she heard the strident crowing of the largest roosters. Opening the windows, she listened to the sounds of the farm, smiled as she heard the new calves bawling for their mothers.

  Of course it had been a nightmare. Even so the vivid memory made her perspire, a cold, clammy sweat. It had seemed so real, the feeling of touching a face. Could she be hallucinating?

  And the dream about being in the car with Kevin, struggling with him. Could she have phoned Kevin? She’d been so upset that day thinking about what Erich said at the birthday dinner, realizing that Kevin could destroy her marriage. Could she have forgotten that she called Kevin and asked to see him?

  The concussion from the accident. The doctor had warned her to take any future headaches seriously.

  She’d been having headaches.

  She showered, tied her hair in a knot at the top of her head, pulled on jeans and a heavy wool sweater. The girls weren’t awake yet. Maybe if she was very calm, she’d be able to eat some breakfast. She must have lost ten pounds in these three months. It was bound to be bad for the baby.

  Just as she put the kettle on, she saw Rooney’s head bob past the window. This time Rooney knocked.

  Rooney’s eyes were clear, her face composed. “I had to see you.”

  “Sit down, Rooney. Coffee or tea?”

  “Jenny!” Today Rooney had none of the vagueness. “I’ve hurt you but I’ll try to make amends.”

  “How could you hurt me?”

  Rooney’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been feeling so much better with you here. A young, pretty girl to talk to, teaching you to sew. It’s made me so happy. And I didn’t blame you a bit for meeting him. Krueger men aren’t easy to live with. Caroline found that out. So I understand. And I never was going to talk about it, not ever.”

  “Talk about what? Rooney, there can’t be anything to be so upset about.”

  “There is, oh, Jenny, there is. Last night I got one of my spells. You know I just keep talking but this time I told Clyde how I came to show you the blue corduroy that Monday night after Caroline’s anniversary to see if you liked the color. It was late. Near ten o’clock. But being it was so near the anniversary I was restless. And I thought I’d just look and see if your light was on in the kitchen. And you were just getting in the white car. I saw you get in. I saw you drive away with him down the road to the riverbank but I swear, Jenny, I never planned to tell. I couldn’t hurt you.”

  Jenny put her arms around the trembling woman. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” I did go with Kevin, she thought. I did go. No, I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.

  “And Clyde said it was his duty to tell Erich and the sheriff,” Rooney sobbed. “This morning I told Clyde I made it up, that I got all mixed up, but Clyde said he remembers he woke up that night and I’d just come in with the material under my arm and he was mad I’d gone out. He’s going to talk to Erich and the sheriff. Jenny, I’m going to lie for you. I don’t care. But I’m causing trouble for you.”

  “Rooney,” Jenny said carefully, “try to understand. I think you are mistaken. I was in bed that night. I never asked Kevin to come here. You wouldn’t be lying if you tell them you got confused. I promise you that.”

  Rooney sighed. “I’d like that coffee now. I love you, Jenny. Sometimes when you’re here I can start to believe that Arden may never come back and that I’ll get over it someday.”

  It was later in the morning that they came into the house together, the sheriff, Erich and Mark. Why Mark?

  “You know why we’re here, Mrs. Krueger.”

  She listened attentively. They were talking about someone else, someone she didn’t know who had been seen getting into a car, driving away.

  Erich didn’t look angry anymore, only sorrowful. “Apparently Rooney is trying to retract her statement but we couldn’t keep this information from Sheriff Gunderson.” He came over to her now, put his hands on her face, smoothed her hair.

  Jenny wondered why she felt as though she were being stripped in public. “My darling,” Erich said, “these are your friends. Tell the truth.”

  She reached up, grasped his hands, pulling them from her face. Otherwise she would suffocate.

  “I have told the truth as I know it,” she said.

  “You ever had spells of any kind, Mrs. Krueger?” The sheriff’s voice was not unkind.

  “I did have a concussion once.” Briefly she told them about the accident. All the time she was aware of Mark Garrett’s eyes studying her. He probably thinks I’m making this up, she thought.

  “Mrs. Krueger, were you still in love with Kevin MacPartland?”

  What a terrible question to ask in front of Erich, Jenny thought. How humiliating this is for him. If only she could go away. Take the girls. Leave him to his own life.

  But she was carrying his child. Erich would love his son. It would be a boy. She was certain of that.

  “Not in the way I presume you mean,” she said.

  “Isn’t it true that you showed public affection for him to the point where the waitress and two patrons of the Groveland Inn were shocked.”

  For a moment Jenny thought she would laugh. “They shock easily. Kevin kissed me when I left. I didn’t kiss him.”

  “Perhaps I should ask it this way, Mrs. Krueger. Weren’t you pretty upset about your ex-husband showing up? Wasn’t he a threat to your marriage?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Initially you gave out to Mr. Krueger that you were a widow. Mr. Krueger’s a wealthy man. He’s adopting your kids. MacPartland coulda ruined your pretty setup.”

  Jenny looked at Erich. She was about to say that the adoption papers would show that Kevin had signed them, that Erich knew about Kevin before their marriage. But what point? This was hard enough on Erich without having his friends and neighbors know that he had deliberately lied to them. She evaded the direct question.

  “My husband and I were in complete agreement. We did not want Kevin to come to the house and upset the children.”

  “But the waitress heard him tell you that he wasn’t giving up, that he wasn’t letting the adoption go through. She heard you say, ‘I warn you, Kevin.’ So he was a threat to your marriage, wasn’t he, Mrs. Krueger?”

  Why didn’t Erich help her? She looked at him and watched his face darken with anger. “Sheriff, I think this has gone far enough,” he said firmly. “Nothing could ever upset our marriage, certainly not Kevin MacPartland, alive or dead. We all know Rooney is mentally ill. My wife deni
es being in that car. Are you prepared to press charges? If not I demand that you stop harassing her.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Okay, Erich. But I have to warn you. There’s a possibility the inquest will be reopened.”

  “If it is, we’ll face it.”

  To a degree he had defended her. Jenny realized she was surprised at his matter-of-fact attitude. Was he becoming resigned to notoriety?

  “I’m not saying it will be. Whether or not Rooney’s testimony would change anything, I’m not sure. Until Mrs. Krueger starts remembering exactly what happened, we’re not much further along than we were up till now. I don’t think there was much doubt in any juror’s mind that she was in that car at some point.”

  Erich walked the sheriff to his car. They stood for a few minutes deep in conversation.

  Mark lingered behind them. “Jenny, I’d like to make an appointment for you with a doctor.”

  There was deep concern in his face. Was it for her or for Erich? “A shrink, I suppose?”

  “No, a good old-fashioned family doctor. I know one in Waverly. You don’t look well. This certainly has been a strain for you.”

  “I’ll hold off a bit, I think, but thanks.”

  She had to get out of the house. The girls were playing in their room. She went upstairs and got them. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  It was springlike outside. “Can we ride?” Tina asked.

  “Not now,” Beth said positively. “Daddy said he’ll take us.”

  “I want to give Tinker Bell sugar.”

  “Sure, let’s go to the stable,” Jenny agreed. For a moment she allowed herself to daydream. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Erich were saddling Baron and she were on Fire Maid and they could go riding together on a beautiful day like this? They’d planned that, looked forward to it.

  A somber-faced Joe was in the stable. Since she’d become aware that Erich was angry and jealous about her friendship with Joe, she’d made it a point to avoid him as much as possible. “How’s Randy the second?” she asked.