"No." He looked at her as she spoke. "No, I don't have to ask. I know you too well."
Dean sighed, feeling more contented than he'd felt in days. But then he remembered the doubts. He'd even considered his wife might have killed Shipton. She had doubted, too-she had hung up the phone. Perhaps they both were human after all.
Over a desert of flan he asked her about Jerome Shipton's ice park fall. "Why were you avoiding the police?"
She took her time before responding. "Donnie was right there. I saw him clearly. I could tell something happened because everyone was running up to the area but Donnie was just skipping down the trail. I've never seen a child so happy. When I found out Shipton had fallen, it frightened me to death."
"You thought he killed him?" She nodded.
"He must have seen his stepfather fall. It doesn't mean he cut the rope."
"I didn't know what to do. He's just a boy. I was sure he was there. My mind was all awhirl and then Janet came up and told me mother was ill-I didn't know what to do. I was frightened to death to talk to the police. I didn't want to tell on Donnie yet I couldn't lie about it." She looked at him, big brown eyes incredibly sad. "I'm sorry. I should have confided in you. I wasn't being fair."
"You were just upset. Your mind was on overload." He took her hand.
"It was more than that. I hated the man. I truly did, for the way he grabbed me, like I was some street whore. Annie, maybe. I guess in a way I bonded with Donnie, thinking he did what I wanted to do. How awful his life must have been living with that shit Shipton. I truly wanted to do it myself! God, I was so confused!"
They were silent for a few moments before he asked, "If you were that close to where Shipton fell, you must have seen Edith."
Cynthia looked up and shook her head. "When I came back down the trail, Edith was still standing at the bridge. She couldn't have been back there." Dean rubbed his chin but said nothing. Suddenly, Cynthia looked startled. "Do you think I was right? Does that mean that Donnie did cut the rope?"
"No. All it means is Edith didn't."
Cynthia fumbled with her napkin. "If she didn't try to kill Jerome, then why did she kill herself?"
"Everything piled up, I guess. She had no one. She obsessed with the Annie Quincy story, and...."
They both knew the other obvious answer. Edith Shipton was protecting the one person she truly loved, her son Donnie. She was admitting to a crime she didn't commit, knowing it was her son who did it. Knowing her suicide would put the matter to rest.