The Unforgiven Read online

  “Nina, is something wrong?” he asked.

  She shook her head, and tried not to look tragic. She plastered a smile onto her face. “No, nothing,” she said. “That was fun. I’m glad we went.”

  Brandon looked over toward his house. “I’d invite you over to my house, but I see my dad’s car is back and my mom went upstairs with a headache before I left. They might not want any company.”

  Nina yawned, as if the very idea of spending another moment together was tiresome. “I better go in, too. I’ll see you, Brandon.”

  He gazed at her with a troubled look on his face, and for one second she thought he might be going to lean toward her and kiss her, but then he backed down off the front step. “Okay, I’ll see ya,” he said.

  She opened the front door, wanting to escape from his sight. It was a disaster, she thought. There was no other way to describe it. In her mind she’d rehearsed how she was going to tell her mother about it. Her mom was always interested in the details of Nina’s life. Earlier, when Nina left the house, her mother had been brooding and had hardly said good-bye. Nina knew she was distracted by her worries about Jimmy. And that fight with her dad. But by now she would be more relaxed, her cheeks flushed from the evening wine, that familiar half-smile on her face. She would be ready to listen.

  Nina stepped into the front hall and was surprised to find that it was dark. Instantly, she felt alarmed, her fretting over the date forgotten. Nobody around there ever went to bed that early. Besides, her mother wouldn’t turn the light out when Nina hadn’t come home yet. And there was something else. A funny smell. Somebody had to be here. Both of her parents’ cars were in the driveway. “Mom?” she called out. “Dad?”

  There was a light on in the living room. From the looks of it, it was only one light—maybe the standing lamp by the bookcase. She followed the dim arc of light and walked into the living room. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, to register what they were seeing. And then she let out a gasp and a strangled cry.

  “Nina,” her father said.

  He was crouching on the Oriental rug in front of the coffee table, looking up at her. His broad even-featured face was pale and sweaty. He was disheveled, still wearing his shirt and tie but no jacket. The front of the shirt was splotched with something dark. On the rug in front of him lay her mother, clutching the newspaper from the coffee table, as if she had pulled it down with her when she fell. Marsha’s eyes were open, and there was a look of panic frozen in them. The front of her turtleneck was ripped, and there was a huge dark splotch over her chest. Her jeans and even her white socks were speckled with dark spots. Near her head on the rug was a knife. Nina recognized it. It came from the block in the kitchen. It, too, was stained.

  “Mom, oh my God!” Nina started to rush toward her mother.

  Slowly, Duncan rose to his feet, waving his hands at her. “Nina,” he said. “Don’t. Don’t come any closer.”

  “Mom,” she cried in a hoarse voice. “Mom. What’s wrong with her?”

  “Honey, your mom is… gone,” he said. “I came in and found her like this.”

  “You mean… ?”

  “She’s dead. Yes.” He approached Nina gingerly, as if she were a rearing horse.

  “No, she’s not dead!” Nina cried. “Don’t say that.” She lunged toward her mother, but he intercepted her and held her back.

  “No. There’s nothing you can do. Some one’s stabbed her.”

  “No. That’s crazy. Let me go!” Nina cried frantically. “Mommy!”

  “Honey, stop. She’s dead. Believe me. I’m a doctor. I know when some one’s dead. Come on. Get away from her. I don’t want you to see her like this.”

  “Mommy,” she whimpered.

  “Don’t go near her,” Duncan murmured, holding her. “Come on. We have to go in the kitchen. We have to call the police. Come with me.” He steered her away from her mother’s body, although Nina could not tear her gaze from the horrible, incredible sight. Supporting one another, they stumbled into the kitchen, which was lit only by the light over the stove. Nina slid on something wet and slippery. She looked down just as Duncan flipped on the switch for the overhead light. Nina saw that her own sneakered foot was resting in a scarlet puddle. She looked up. Blood splattered the cheerful, fruit-garlanded wallpaper and smeared the checkered tile floor.

  “Oh my God,” said Duncan.

  Nina began to scream.