Criminal

more.” Amanda opened her hand. The fingernails fell to the carpet.
    Henry nearly jumped across the desk. He caught himself at the last minute, telling his wife, “Pick those up. Immediately.”
    Elizabeth seemed to debate her answer. “Oh, I don’t think so, Henry. Not today.”
    “We’ll talk about this later.” He angrily punched the numbers on the phone. “I’m calling the police.”
    “They’re right outside,” Amanda told him. “The envelope is enough to arrest you. I know a gal at the lab who’s just dying to get her hands on your DNA.”
    “I told you to leave.” Henry hung up the receiver and picked it back up again. Instead of dialing three digits, he dialed ten. He was calling his lawyer.
    Elizabeth said, “You’re nothing like him, you know?”
    She wasn’t talking to Amanda or Henry. She was talking to Will.
    “There’s a kindness about you,” she said. “James was terrifying. He didn’t have to speak, or move, or even breathe. Just being in his presence was like staring into the pit of hell.”
    Will stared at the ugly shape of her mouth.
    “He said he wanted to save them. Funny how none of them actually lived up to his promise.” Elizabeth inhaled deeply from the cigarette. “He gave Lucy a chance, at least. A chance to do something good, to bring something pure into the world.”
    Will asked, “What are you saying?”
    “Girls don’t matter. They never matter.” Her red lipstick had wicked into the deep lines around her mouth. “But you, handsome boy. You were saved from James. Saved from his brutality. His madness. You were our salvation. I hope you’ve earned it.”
    Will watched her round off the ash of her cigarette in the ashtray. Her nails were long, painted in a flame red that matched her skirt and sweater.
    Amanda said, “They were working together, weren’t they?”
    “Not like you’re thinking,” she answered. “Yes, Hank had some fun, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”
    Henry ordered, “Shut up. Right now.”
    She ignored him, telling Will, “He didn’t really want you, but he didn’t want anyone else to have you, either.” She paused. “I’m sorry about that. I really am.”
    “I’m warning you, Elizabeth.” Henry’s voice was terse. Sweat rolled down the side of his face.
    She continued to ignore her husband, staring at Will with what could only be described as a sinister smile. “He’d get you from the children’s home and bring you here for a day, two days at a time. I would hear you downstairs playing—inasmuch as a child can play without touching anything. Sometimes, I would hear you laugh. You loved rolling down that hill. You’d do it for hours. Down and up again, laughing the whole time. I would start to feel attached to you, and then Henry would take you away, and I was alone again.”
    “I don’t—” Will had to stop to catch his breath. “I don’t remember you.”
    She held the cigarette to her mouth. Her lipstick ringed the filter. “You wouldn’t. I only saw you once.” She gave a soft laugh. “The other times I was tied up.”
    The tinny sound of a woman’s voice came through the telephone receiver in Henry’s hand. He stood holding it from his ear, staring at his wife.
    Elizabeth told Will, “It could’ve just as easily been me, you know. I could’ve been your mother. I could’ve—”
    Amanda hissed, “Shut up, Kitty.”
    She blew out a stream of smoke. The tendrils swirled up into her thin blonde hair. “Bitch, was I talking to you?”

thirty
    July 15, 1975
    There was definitely a noise. A banging sound. Tapping. Amanda wasn’t sure. The house was full of men tromping around in heavy shoes, yelling across the rooms. The attic stairs were pulled down. Someone was checking the crawl space. They could see the beam of a Kel-Lite through the planks in the hardwood floor.
    Amanda stood in the hallway. “Shut up!” she yelled. “Everyone just shut up.”
    The men stared at her, not quite knowing what to do.
    Amanda heard the noise again. It was coming from the kitchen.
    Evelyn pushed past the crowd, fighting to get to the back of the house.
    “Hey!” one of them complained.
    Amanda followed her into the kitchen. The cabinets were metal. The white laminate countertop had a gold swirl pattern. The appliances dated back to the thirties. The overhead light was a single bulb, the same as in the other rooms.
    “Do you hear it?” Evelyn kept her jaw tight. The