Reading Online Novel

Starter House(56)



“Three.” Drew rolled a three. “You can’t play with babies. They cry all the time, and they don’t know the rules. Four.” He rolled a four.

Beth Craddock said she put the baby down for a nap and then lay down herself, and when she woke up, she found him facedown in the tub, still fully dressed. She said someone must have broken into her house and drowned her baby while she slept, but the jury took only forty-five minutes to convict her. She was convicted in 1982 and killed herself in prison in 1986.

Had Drew done that, killed the baby and destroyed the mother? Greeley Honeywick thought so. Lacey followed the link to the newspaper archives. Beth Craddock looked like anybody’s mother, in the picture from her son’s second birthday party: she stood behind him, laughing, in a pink blouse and a denim skirt, while the dark-haired toddler blew out the candles. Six other toddlers sat at the table, with a smattering of mothers and older siblings in the background. There was a blond boy turning away from the camera, his face blurred. Could Drew appear in pictures?

“Did you go to Tyler’s birthday party?” Lacey said casually. Drew glanced up at her, and she pulled a smile onto her face.

Not a good house for babies. The smile hurt, but she held it. She was good with boys. Maybe Beth Craddock had been impatient and careless. Maybe she’d told Drew to go away and leave her alone, she had her own children to take care of; maybe she’d snapped, Leave me in peace for once. Drew wouldn’t take well to that, not at all. She wished she could take back the question about Tyler’s birthday. She didn’t want to raise any bad memories.

“Stupid baby birthday parties for stupid babies,” Drew muttered. “Like I would even care. Six.” He rolled a six. “Nobody ever makes me a birthday cake,” he said.

“When’s your birthday?”

“August seventh.”

“Oh, honey. You should have told me. We missed it and I didn’t know! I’ll make you a cake next year.”

“Big deal.”

The boy in the picture must be some party guest’s big brother. A camera couldn’t capture what CarolAnna and Ella Dane couldn’t see. Lacey closed her laptop. It was too dangerous. Drew needed all her attention now; he was on the edge, ready to tip over into rage. She knew the signs, the muttering and self-pity. He predicted four more rolls.

He was cheating. If she challenged him, would that push him over the edge, or surprise him into cooperation? She had to put her faith in his sweetness, his desire for connection. Through the ringing in her own ears, she said, “I’m not playing if you cheat.”

“Whatever. Two.” He rolled a five. “Okay? So can we play?”

Noisy boys were bad losers, and worse winners. Lacey played games with them all the time, as part of the process of civilizing them. Rainy days with indoor recess were her secret weapon. She urged the die on for every roll, her own or theirs, and she cheered for every ladder and groaned for every chute, no matter whose piece climbed or fell. If she brought enough enthusiasm to the game, the boys surrendered their desire to win, and enjoyed the game itself.

But it was difficult to play with Drew. For one thing, she saw him mouthing numbers as he rolled, and she was sure he was still controlling the die. Up the ladder, down the chute, her mind circled on Beth and Tyler Craddock. That lovely little boy, dead within weeks of the birthday party; the young woman in the pink blouse, smiling over the cake. Had Drew done that?

Perhaps he had loved Beth too. Perhaps he had slipped his hand into hers at odd moments, as with Lacey. He had sat at Beth’s kitchen table—different table, same kitchen—watching her decorate Tyler’s birthday cake with green icing and plastic dinosaurs. Nobody made a birthday cake for him, so he killed them. All children wanted to do these things. Children are small psychopaths, her educational psychology professor had told her. If they could do what they wanted, we’d all be dead. This will not be on the test.

Unlike other children, Drew could do what he wanted, and the Craddocks were dead.

He won two games in a row, avoiding every chute, landing on every ladder. “See,” Lacey said, forcing her voice into a teacher tone of gentle guidance. “It’s no fun if the game’s not fair. Let’s start over.”

Drew rolled a four, which took him to the first ladder. He picked up the green piece, looked at Lacey, moved the piece back, and rolled again. He got another four. “I didn’t do it this time,” he said.

“I believe you. Climb the ladder.”

The front door opened and closed, and Bibbits raced out of Lacey’s room and down the hall. “Who’s a sweet puppy?” Ella Dane crooned. “Did you miss your mama?”