Her eyes widened as she felt what I offered. My hips rolled just a little; my broken ankle growling with torment. Does that answer your question?
Constance was her name. There was a pause. It just doesn’t add up. Why’d she make her way to the attic? While she was one fire?She panicked. Instead of dropping and rolling, she ran and ended up in the elevator. She told us later she thought that was where a fire extinguisher was. She flailed around, pushed a bunch of buttons, fell out upstairs. She was found right outside the open doors of the thing.
It’s what she told police happened. Why would she lie?I don’t know. I want to find out, though.Anne, you’re not a homicide detective, and the case is closed. Oh, and there was a fire extinguisher in the elevator, mounted under the button panel.
So why didn’t she use it on herself?I guess she collapsed. I don’t know. There was a silence. Hey, before you go. What’s up with you and Mom? You can’t wait to get rid of her most times and won’t even talk to her on the phone—and now she’s staying with you?.
Up ahead, the Canterbury Inn’s lit-up exterior looked like an ad for autumn in New England, the maples on either side just beginning to turn red, the colonial’s yellow clapboards, white trim, and black shutters as traditional as they were attractive.
She’s fine, Anne muttered. And I want her to stay.So what are you working on? Danny said between bites of the pepperoni-and-onion.
She tried out the salad and decided it tasted like cardboard. You know what a fire investigator does.She put her fork down. Danny, this is—
He wiped his mouth with a paper towel. Look . . . I just wanted to see you when I was sober. Last night, I was outta my mind, and not making any sense. And I would have called first, but you’d’ve told me not to come over.So you just showed up. Have you ever waited for an invitation in your life, Danny?