Jennifer L. Jordan - Kristin Ashe Mystery 3 - Commitment to Die by Jennifer L. Jordan

Author:Jennifer L. Jordan [Jennifer L. Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780966735901
Google: Rj4EAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0966735900
Publisher: Spinsters Ink
Published: 2004-04-21T03:00:00+00:00

I staggered back to Dr. Schmidt's office and propped myself against the doorframe, afraid to enter, scared of what more we might find.

Weakly, I said, "Did Lauren see her mom kill herself, too?"

Fran gathered the materials and began to pace. "No. According to this, she went upstairs, found Patrice, and hightailed it to the doghouse."

"Read me all of it," I said, reclaiming my spot on the couch. I put a pillow over my eyes to block the glare of the light.

"You sure you're up to it?"

"Yes," I said feebly.

"Okay. Looks like she told Dr. Schmidt this six months ago."

"It took her that long?"

"Apparently. Now, don't interrupt. Here goes verbatim: 'Brother Brian cried all night. Probably sick. Early in morning, after father left for work, mother brought infant down to kitchen. Ironing Lauren's dress. Two-year-old Patrice upstairs asleep. Lauren sitting at kitchen table eating cereal. Waiting to give mother birthday present she made in school. Brian in playpen in kitchen screaming. Mother calls for quiet several times, each time becoming more agitated. Approaches child and hits iron against playpen walls, yelling for quiet. It works. Baby stunned silent by violence. Mother returns to ironing board five feet away. Crying starts again. Without warning, mother hurls iron at 10-month-old child. Hits him in stomach.'" Fran gulped and stopped to catch her breath.

When she resumed, her voice was soft. "'He wails even louder. Lauren runs to playpen to stop mother. Mother crosses room, picks up iron and beats child on head and chest until there is no sound. Lauren clutches mother, afraid to make any noise. Mother brushes off daughter and returns to ironing. Lauren runs upstairs, wakes up Patrice, stuffs pillow over her head to quiet her crying, and goes outside. Confused as to what to do. Knows she'll get in trouble for missing school, but too frightened to go back inside house for clothes, and doesn't know what to do with sister. Hides both of them in the doghouse. Shivering cold. Tries to cover Patrice with her body. Calls dog, Beau, in to keep them company. Hears sirens late in the afternoon, but won't come out. Night falls. Father comes home and drags her out. Policeman says her mother and brother are dead.'"

A few moments after Fran stopped reciting, I removed the pillow from my head and blinked rapidly. Fran, stunned, had returned to her seat behind the desk.

"How did she ever survive?" I asked, a hitch in my voice.

"She didn't, kiddo. That's why we're here, because she killed herself."

Our tear-filled eyes met. "You think this is it, this is the answer?"

"Could be."

"But why a month ago? Why not ten years ago or twenty years ago? And what about her recent contentment? Where did that come from? Why did she celebrate a two-year anniversary the week before she died? What was that about? Clearly, her childhood affected her, but it can't be what pushed her over the edge, not after all these years. Is there anything in those notes, anything at all that refers to suicidal thoughts?" I asked desperately.

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