her nose but said nothing, a woman in her sixties, neat in her white uniform, hair pulled tightly back off her full face. Her cheeks were doughy and she was wearing too much makeup. Behind her bifocals I could see she was fuming. A second later, I thought she was about to cry.
âShe was the last person here. She, sheâ¦â
I just waited, Dashiell sitting close to my leg.
âI heard him before I left for the day. I heard him saying what heâd said before, what heâd told Mr. Spector when he came in with her right after it happened,â pointing to her eyelid, âthat the effects of the Botox were temporary, that thatâs why she was supposed to come in every three months for shots, because it wasnât permanent. Anyway, this shot was supposed to be for her other eye. He did one at a time. He was very conservative in his treatment ofâ¦â
âYeah, yeah. And then what?â
Ms. Peach looked puzzled.
âYou heard him explain to Madison that the effects of the Botox were temporary. And then what happened?â
âI left. I had no idea, of courseâ¦â
âNothing else before you left?â
âYes. One other thing.â
This time my eyebrows went up, but whatever it was Ms. Peach was going to say, it wasnât coming easily.
âA kick.â
âA kick? You heard a kick?â
âIt sounded as if she kicked the desk.â In control again. âHave you ever seen one of her fits, Missâ¦â
âAlexander. Rachel Alexander. No, I havenât. I only met her once. The thing isâ¦â
Ms. Peach was shaking her head again. âThen you have no idea, simply no idea.â
âThatâs why I came to you,â I told her.
She nodded, then looked around to see who might be watching us. âNasty,â she whispered. âA real terror.â
âDid you know her before?â
âBefore what ?â
âBefore she stopped talking.â
Ms. Peach sighed. She shook her head.
âHow long have you been working here, if I might ask?â
âNearly five years, as if thatâs any of yourââ
âAnd the person who was here before you?â
âYou mean the temp?â She rolled her eyes.
âNo. The person who held the job before you.â
âOh, you mean Celia?â
âYes, Celia. How long had she been here?â
Ms. Peachâs brow furrowed. No free Botox for employees, I thought.
âWas she here before Madison stopped talking?â
âWell, yes, she was, butâ¦â
âBut what?â
âTwo weeks after Madison was diagnosed, thatâs when her mother disappeared and Madison became silent. So Celia would have only seen her five or six times.â
I nodded. âItâs Touretteâs syndrome, is that right?â
She began to shake her head. âI canât discuss that with you, Ms. Alexander. Youâre not a blood relative of the childâs, are you?â
âI understand,â I said. âBut Iâm confused now. Mr. Spector mentioned her, Celia, as one of Madisonâs favorite people.â
âCelia?â
I nodded.
Ms. Peach snorted. âSo thatâs what she did with her time.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âWell, she certainly didnât pay attention to the files. I can attest to that.â
âThey were disorganized, inaccurate?â
âYou wouldnât believe what I had to deal with.â
âHow long had she been here?â
Ms. Peach compressed her lips and waited for me to come to my senses and stop asking her questions she knew she shouldnât be answering. Or perhaps it was something else. Perhaps Ms. Peach was upset because she had already told me things she shouldnât have. She reached into her purse and took out her keys and turned her back to me.
âSome people just donât have the knack for it.â
âFor?â
âFor keeping things in order.