Vivian stayed up to watch the news at 11:00 p.m. John Bowman reported a new development stemming from the recent firestorm.
“Fire officials have determined the cause of the explosion to be an act of malice,” John Bowman said. “Investigators have found evidence of arson. Fragments of an incendiary device with chemical residue suggest a powerful explosive of some type, which officials have taken to the forensics lab for analysis. The local fire chief expressed suspicion of murder by way of arson, and officials aren’t saying what device was used until chemical tests have been concluded. Two charred bodies were found amidst the rubble, burned beyond recognition. Dental records will be used to identify the victims. Police don’t have any suspects at this time but encourage anyone to come forward with any information that may be helpful in this case.”
Vivian wondered if Christine may have had anything to do with the explosion, either directly or indirectly.
No, she thought. That’s stretching the imagination. She’d been staying at a hotel by herself all this time. She’s one person. But then again, that’s all it takes—just one person. Sister or not, suppose she did it, and how would she have gone about it?
You shouldn’t be speculating, a different voice said.
Christine would have to have a very, very good reason for doing so, Vivian thought.
Maybe she did, the other voice said. It’s obvious she had a reason, valid or not.
I’m sure she had more than a reason. She also had opportunity and motive. I know how Christine is. I’ve seen what she’s capable of, seen what she’s done. Again, I know I shouldn’t be surmising. I know there isn’t a shred of proof. I don’t believe where this is going. Vivian shook her head in disgust. My thoughts are becoming muddled. I’m going to bed.
She rose from the loveseat in the front room, switched off the TV with the remote, and went upstairs.
How about calling the police? she thought as she reached the top of the stairs. All of a sudden, I feel compelled to call the police.
You wouldn’t dare, the inner voice said in a menacing tone.
Oh, yes, I would.
Would you tattle on your baby sister?
I have my suspicions. It’s possible she may have had something to do with it. Who else would plant a bomb, or whatever it was, in that house and let it go off like that?
You’re basing all this on circumstance. You’d be wasting your time and making a fool of yourself.
Maybe. But what if I’m right?
What if you’re wrong?