She looked at her watch. Five o'clock. Only an hour ago she had pounded on Iris's door, angry at her for not answering.
Her imagination conjured possible scenarios. Perhaps Iris had been attacked outside, managed to get away, run inside, and lock her attacker out before collapsing. But why would someone attack Iris? There was nothing in the house that would be easy to steal. The jewelry was in a safe deposit box at the bank, the good silver at Crystal's house. The antique furniture had value, but she couldn't imagine anyone carrying it off.
Maybe an escaped killer had assumed the neglected house was abandoned, only to be surprised by a shotgun-toting Iris. But where was the shotgun? He had it. The mad killer—and he was hiding in Iris's house.
Reining in her wild imaginings, Crystal drove into the hospital parking lot. As far as she knew, there had been no news bulletins about escaped convicts.
That left suicide. Iris had tried to kill herself. Tears stung Crystal's eyes. Somewhere in the house, a noose was hanging and a suicide note was waiting to be discovered. SANDS RECLUSE ATTEMPTS SUICIDE the headline on the front page of The Sentinel would read. Carter would see to it.
She parked the car and hurried across the parking lot to the emergency entrance, the thought of suicide more troubling to her than her mad killer scenario.
Thank God, Mama hadn't lived to see this.
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