shelf—and only spilled half a cup on the counter when I tried to transfer a small amount of the liquid into a pitcher. From a glass canister on the counter, I filled the sugar bowl and set it on the tray with several spoons and a handful of paper napkins. Should I tell the police what I know? Should I tell them now? I decided to wait and see what Georgina had to say.
I was serving coffee to the two officers when Scott arrived a few minutes later with Georgina in tow. Literally. He held her hand and dragged her into the living room behind him. She wore a long, plush bathrobe, loosely belted, and her slippers were on the wrong feet. Her glorious hair was caught behind her head in a careless ponytail with a fat red rubber band. She looked sleepy and confused, as if she had awakened in a strange hotel room in a foreign city where everyone was speaking Hungarian. Scott led her to the chair he had recently vacated and held on to her hand until she was comfortably seated. Then he perched beside her on the arm of the chair. “Georgina, these people are from the police. They want to talk to you about Dr. Sturges.”
Georgina looked from Sergeant Williams to Officer Duvall with wide, frightened eyes. Her lips formed a tight line and she shook her head back and forth like a reluctant child.
“I’ve explained to my wife that her doctor is dead,” Scott said. “I’m afraid she’s in shock.”
Georgina stared at her hands, which were folded tightly together in her lap.
“Tell them what you told me, honey.” Scott’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. His big hand reached out to envelop hers.
Georgina glanced from my face to her husband’s and back again, as if she were watching a tennis match.
“Come on, baby.”
Georgina bowed her head and gazed up at her husband through lowered lashes. When she spoke, it was to Sergeant Williams. “I went for my regular appointment at three. It was at three, wasn’t it, honey?”
“Yes, at three. I drove you there myself.”
“I opened the door, went up the stairs, and sat down on the couch like always. But she never came.” Big tears coursed down my sister’s pale cheeks. “Diane never came.”
“Did you notice anything unusual while you were waiting for the doctor, Mrs. Cardinale?” Officer Duvall leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
Georgina shook her head.
“Anybody coming or going?”
“No.”
“What did you do when the doctor didn’t show up?”
“Walked.”
“Walked? Walked where?”
Georgina raised her head. “Home, like I always do.” She glared at me as if daring me to contradict her. I was beginning to suspect she wasn’t as out of it as she seemed.
I opened my mouth to reply, then thought better of it.
“Walking relaxes her,” Scott volunteered. “Sometimes if it’s been a difficult session, she’ll call me for a pickup, but this time, she walked.”
Now Scott was lying, too. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Why was Georgina afraid to mention that she had discovered the doctor’s body? True, we had run off without calling 911, but that wasn’t a crime. Notthat I knew of, anyway. Besides, we had made that call. Eventually.
I was leaning back against the mantelpiece digesting all this when it suddenly came to me. My God! Scott must think Georgina did it!
Georgina began to sob, shoulders shaking. I reached out to smooth her hair while Scott sat silently, holding her hand in both of his. “I think my wife needs to go back to bed now, Officers. She’s on medication.”
Officer Duvall set his coffee mug down on the tray and stood up. “Fine. But we will want to talk to her again later.”
Scott led a dazed Georgina away, leaving me alone with the officers and in a fine pickle. I knew I had to say something , but was paralyzed with indecision. I had been at the scene, after all, and I hadn’t been wearing rubber gloves. It would be hard to explain away my fingerprints if I didn’t tell them what I knew about