Read Online Rachel Alexander 09 - Without a Word by Carol Lea Benjamin - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol Lea Benjamin
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hadn’t been armed, is that correct? And since you were gone and the door wasn’t secured, isn’t it possible that after Madison left, someone else entered the office, while the doctor was returning phone calls, say? You didn’t mention which phone you used to call the police?“
“The closest phone,” she said, her face flushed now. “As anyone would in an emergency.”
“Was it on the hook or off when you reached for it?“
“On the hook. I see what it is you’re trying to do, Ms. Alexander, and I understand why. But you’re wrong. No one else came in after Madison. She was the one who killed Dr. Bechman. Doesn’t the note tell you that?”
“The note?” I said.
Ms. Peach wheeled around and walked around her desk, opening the top left drawer, reaching under some papers and pulling out a single sheet. She came back to where I was standing and shoved it at me. “The note,” she said, too upset to remember that moments earlier she’d told me she hadn’t copied it. “The way Madison says what’s on her mind.”
It was a rather crude drawing, a heart with a shaky line going into the middle of it, just as it had been described to me.
I stood staring at it. Then I looked into Ms. Peach’s smug brown eyes.
“Why?” I asked her.
“Because of the droop,” she said, pointing to her own eyelid. “She had an absolute fit about it.”
“No, why did you copy the drawing?”
Ms. Peach just stood there, her face a perfect blank, as if she had been given Botox after all.
“Well, since you did,” I whispered, “how about if you make one more?”
She began to shake her head, but I interrupted.
“Surely making a copy of your copy wouldn’t be against the law, Ms. Peach.”
She went back to her desk and put the drawing in the copy machine. I heard it click and whir, saw the lights flashing.
“Were her fingerprints on the note?” I asked. “Madison’s?”
Ms. Peach turned to face me. “I don’t know, Ms. Alexander, but I was told they were on the needle.”
I flapped a hand at her, as if the bad news she’d just given me were nothing at all. “You just told me she handled everything, didn’t you?”
Ms. Peach didn’t answer my question. Instead she carefully put the copy of Madison’s drawing in a large manila envelope, as if it were a medical report or an X ray, and handed it to me.
“Anyone could have made that picture,” I said, as if I were talking to myself. “I certainly could have.” I stopped short of suggesting that Ms. Peach herself could have made the drawing. But I was sure she’d gotten the point anyway. Ms. Peach headed for the door, opening it for me.
“You said you were the one who found the doctor?“
“Yes, and I can tell you it was quite a shock.”
“So you were the first one in that morning?” I asked her as casually as I could.
“It wasn’t morning. I found him that evening.”
“I don’t understand. You said that you left when the doctor was in his office with Madison. I didn’t know there were office hours in the evening.”
“There aren’t. I came back.”
“Back to the office? Whatever for? Was it when you realized you hadn’t set the alarm?”
“No,” she said, her face red, her hands trembling. “I forgot my book.”
“Your book !?”
“Will you please stop repeating everything I say,” she shouted.
“It’s just that—”
“After dinner, I realized I’d left my book at the office and I wanted to finish it that night. It’s not that far and so I—“
“How long after you’d left was that?”
“About two hours.”
“Two hours?”
“See. You’re doing it again. If you don’t stop that compulsive mimicry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.“
“Must have been a good book,” I said, ignoring her outburst.
Ms. Peach opened the door. “I have work to do.”
“So the doctor’s wife hadn’t called to inquire where he was. That’s not why you came back?”
“No. He had a meeting. It would have
“The closest phone,” she said, her face flushed now. “As anyone would in an emergency.”
“Was it on the hook or off when you reached for it?“
“On the hook. I see what it is you’re trying to do, Ms. Alexander, and I understand why. But you’re wrong. No one else came in after Madison. She was the one who killed Dr. Bechman. Doesn’t the note tell you that?”
“The note?” I said.
Ms. Peach wheeled around and walked around her desk, opening the top left drawer, reaching under some papers and pulling out a single sheet. She came back to where I was standing and shoved it at me. “The note,” she said, too upset to remember that moments earlier she’d told me she hadn’t copied it. “The way Madison says what’s on her mind.”
It was a rather crude drawing, a heart with a shaky line going into the middle of it, just as it had been described to me.
I stood staring at it. Then I looked into Ms. Peach’s smug brown eyes.
“Why?” I asked her.
“Because of the droop,” she said, pointing to her own eyelid. “She had an absolute fit about it.”
“No, why did you copy the drawing?”
Ms. Peach just stood there, her face a perfect blank, as if she had been given Botox after all.
“Well, since you did,” I whispered, “how about if you make one more?”
She began to shake her head, but I interrupted.
“Surely making a copy of your copy wouldn’t be against the law, Ms. Peach.”
She went back to her desk and put the drawing in the copy machine. I heard it click and whir, saw the lights flashing.
“Were her fingerprints on the note?” I asked. “Madison’s?”
Ms. Peach turned to face me. “I don’t know, Ms. Alexander, but I was told they were on the needle.”
I flapped a hand at her, as if the bad news she’d just given me were nothing at all. “You just told me she handled everything, didn’t you?”
Ms. Peach didn’t answer my question. Instead she carefully put the copy of Madison’s drawing in a large manila envelope, as if it were a medical report or an X ray, and handed it to me.
“Anyone could have made that picture,” I said, as if I were talking to myself. “I certainly could have.” I stopped short of suggesting that Ms. Peach herself could have made the drawing. But I was sure she’d gotten the point anyway. Ms. Peach headed for the door, opening it for me.
“You said you were the one who found the doctor?“
“Yes, and I can tell you it was quite a shock.”
“So you were the first one in that morning?” I asked her as casually as I could.
“It wasn’t morning. I found him that evening.”
“I don’t understand. You said that you left when the doctor was in his office with Madison. I didn’t know there were office hours in the evening.”
“There aren’t. I came back.”
“Back to the office? Whatever for? Was it when you realized you hadn’t set the alarm?”
“No,” she said, her face red, her hands trembling. “I forgot my book.”
“Your book !?”
“Will you please stop repeating everything I say,” she shouted.
“It’s just that—”
“After dinner, I realized I’d left my book at the office and I wanted to finish it that night. It’s not that far and so I—“
“How long after you’d left was that?”
“About two hours.”
“Two hours?”
“See. You’re doing it again. If you don’t stop that compulsive mimicry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.“
“Must have been a good book,” I said, ignoring her outburst.
Ms. Peach opened the door. “I have work to do.”
“So the doctor’s wife hadn’t called to inquire where he was. That’s not why you came back?”
“No. He had a meeting. It would have
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