Rachel Alexander 09 - Without a Word

are you?” I asked.
    “At home.”
    I got into the cab and gave the driver his address.
    “I’m at the airport. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Chapter 27

    “Where’s JoAnn?” I asked when Charles
    opened the door.
    But he just stepped aside to let me pass. I did, walking over and sitting on the sofa, waiting for him to sit down and tell me more.
    For a moment, he just stood in the doorway, his face pale, his hands shaking. I went into the kitchen and got some water for him. When I came back into the living room, he was sitting on one of the chairs that faced the couch, his mouth moving as if he might be biting the inside of his cheek.
    “They said she was despondent over Bechman’s death,” talking too loud. “They said that’s why she did it, that she couldn’t cope. That’s not Celia.” Shaking his head, his hands curled into fists now. “If there was one thing Celia could do, she could cope.”
    “How did it happen?”
    “She went out the window.”
    “And where was JoAnn?”
    “Asleep in her bed.”Shaking his head again. “Even supposing it were true, that she just couldn’t live without that bastard, she never would have left JoAnn unprotected like that. Never.”
    “When did it happen, Charles?”
    “Thursday night.”
    The night I left for Florida.
    “Eleven forty-five,” he said.
    “How do they know the exact time? Broken watch?” Thinking unless there was a witness, they wouldn’t know. There’d be a range of time during which it probably had happened.
    “The woman on the ground floor in the back, Ida Berman, she actually heard Celia land. Can you imagine?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It seems she hit the outdoor table. Ida looked out the window, then called the police right away.”
    “So JoAnn, she was taken care of, she didn’t wake up to find herself alone?”
    He shook his head. “No. She was still asleep when the detectives got there.”
    “When did you hear?”
    “Around two. Ida told the police that JoAnn was with me a lot. The ex, she called me. She didn’t know my name but they found it in Celia’s address book and called. They didn’t tell me what had happened at first. They asked me to come down to the precinct. I had no idea what it was about. ‘At this hour?’ I asked the detective, and he said, ‘It’s important, sir, it’s about JoAnn.’ ”
    “So you did, you went?”
    “They said there was an open bottle of wine on the coffee table and one glass but the glass was unused, and they didn’t find any alcohol in her system. That’s what they said. ‘Her system.’ ”
    “So she hadn’t had too much to drink?”
    “She hadn’t had anything to drink.”
    “And they don’t think it was an accident, that she fell?“
    “No, they said it was deliberate, not an accident.”
    “Was there a note?”
    He nodded.
    Why hadn’t he mentioned it right away? “What did it say?” I asked, leaning closer, talking softly.
    He shook his head.
    “They didn’t show it to you?” Wondering how I might get to see it
    “No, they did. It was addressed to me.”
    I waited, watching his face.
    “It said ‘Dear Charles, Please take care of JoAnn. Celia. ' ”
    “So they’re sure, because of the note? It was definitely her handwriting?”
    He looked surprised at my question, then he nodded. “It’s her handwriting. There’s no doubt about it. And the door was double-locked.”
    “I guess she took it pretty hard.”
    “Bechman’s death?”
    I nodded.
    “She . . .“ But then Charles just shook his head. “They asked me a bunch of questions and then they gave me JoAnn,” he said.
    “Because of the note?”
    “No. She didn’t tell you?”
    ‘Tell me what?”
    “They weren’t married, of course, so it would have been awkward for Eric to have his name on the birth certificate.“
    “You’re saying that your name is there?”
    He nodded. “I’m the father of record. As far as the law is concerned, she’s my daughter. As far as I’m concerned, that’s true as well.”
    He stood and walked over to the windows, his back to me. “She wouldn’t have written it like that.”
    “Like what?” Trying to keep up as he leaped from one thing to another.
    “I had this nickname for her, you know, something just between the two of us. She would have used it. She never called herself Celia to me. I hated the name and so did she.“
    “Even after everything? Even after Bechman, the split, JoAnn, even so?”
    He turned and walked over to