Dust to Dust

slapped her and she hit him back with a mop handle. Tyler said he had to get between them. He said his grandfather convinced Wendy that what they were doing was for the best.”
    “Best?” whispered Marsha. “Best?”
    “Look, Mrs. Carruthers, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth years ago. But I was afraid. And then later, well, I couldn’t bring myself to relive the whole thing. I just tried to pretend it didn’t happen, until I had to come home. I only came forward now because of Stacy Dance. I’m really afraid that Tyler or his grandfather . . .”
    Colton stopped talking because Marsha was up and going to the phone. They all watched as she dialed and waited.
    “Wendy, I need you to come over.” She replaced the receiver.
    Diane didn’t imagine, given their relationship, that Wendy thought the request was strange, or, in fact, much different from other summons she probably received over the years of Marsha’s growing dependence on her.
    Marsha sat down again. No one said anything. The quiet made Diane uneasy. She was sure they all felt uneasy, but emotions were too quiet, too under the surface. It reminded Diane of a volcano waiting for just the right pressure to build up before it erupted.
    “Did you have anything to do with her death?” Marsha asked Colton after a moment. Her gaze bored into him with an intensity that seemed to literally nail him to his seat.
    “No ma’am, as God is my witness, on my father’s grave, I swear to you that I only found out after it happened, when Tyler came to my window and told me,” Colton said.
    While all their attention was on Colton and Marsha, Diane snaked her hand inside her jacket, took her gun from its shoulder holster, and put it in her jacket pocket. She wasn’t sure why she felt she needed to do this, other than she had experience with the inconvenience of having a gun zipped up inside a jacket when she needed it—or rather, Frank had.
    Her movement didn’t go unnoticed. Ross looked over at her and gave her a quick smile with a twitch of his lips. He had felt it too. It was as if emotions were becoming a miasma settling in the room that could be seen and breathed in. Diane shivered. It was cold. If she believed in ghosts, she would have been convinced that Ellie Rose’s spirit was in the room. She was glad she had worn the jacket.
    Diane heard the door open and close. Wendy had arrived. Diane unconsciously slid closer to the tall parlor palm.
    “Marsha, are you in the living room? Is something wrong? I saw those dreadful people’s cars parked across the street. . . . Oh, Colton, dear. I didn’t know you were home. How nice to see you.”
    Wendy had started talking before she entered the room and hadn’t stopped once she was there. She looked much as she had when Diane had last seen her. Nice hairstyle, but sans makeup. She didn’t come in her robe, but had slipped on emerald green slacks and a dark pumpkin sweater.
    “I thought those awful people were back—” She stopped talking when she spotted the awful, dreadful people standing next to the wall. “What are you doing here? Marsha, we can get a restraining order.”
    Marsha stood facing her. “It was Tyler all along, Wendy. It was Tyler, and you knew.” Marsha’s voice was quiet and came out in a rasp.
    “What? Marsha, are you all right?” said Wendy.
    “Tyler killed my baby girl and you knew, damn you. Damn you to hell.” Marsha’s voice was loud now and shaking with anger.
    Wendy looked as though Marsha had hit her in the stomach with a baseball bat. There it was, the knowledge she dreaded anyone ever knowing.
    “I don’t know what these people have been telling you,” began Wendy.
    “I told her,” said Colton. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Walters, but Tyler told me when it happened and I’ve been carrying it with me all these years. With what’s been happening, it has to come out. You know that.”
    “Why? Why did you cover it up?” said Samuel. “I thought we were friends.”
    “How can you ask that?” said Wendy. “It was an accident. Ellie was dead and nothing could bring her back. I didn’t want Tyler’s life to be ruined too.”
    “What? You didn’t want your son’s life to be ruined? What kind of self-centered,” began Marsha. “I see it all now. You here all the time keeping me drunk so I would never suspect.”
    “Now, wait a minute. I did everything in my power to help you get over it,” said Wendy. “I didn’t mean—”
    “Get