“But it doesn’t mean they found anything, June,” Melanie said. “They told us they were going to dig the firebreak that first day. If they’d found the body we would have heard about it, right? It would have been news. All the law enforcement agencies would have heard about it. The authorities would have come out to Palm Springs. You’d be in jail right now.”
The minute the words were out of Melanie’s mouth, she wished she could reel them back. June looked stricken.
“I shouldn’t have said it like that, June,” she went on. “I’m just thinking maybe you don’t have to worry about it. They can’t have found Elwood’s body. I think we would know. It’s not like you’ve been hiding in a cave somewhere. The police would’ve found you if they were looking. It’s been four days.”
“I think Melanie is probably right, June,” Eva said. “She is probably right.”
When June still said nothing, Melanie scooped the key ring out of June’s hands. “I said I’m driving.”
The drive to central Malibu seemed to take far too long, and when they reached its borders, the first smoldering patches of earth and skeletal landscape were an eerie greeting. The closer Melanie inched the car toward the turnoff for Paradise Circle, the moredestruction they saw: buildings with roofs burned clean off, buildings burned only partway, buildings burned to their foundations, and some buildings not burned at all, as though the fire had gone through the seaside community with a pointer and selected what it would devour and what it would not. At the street they needed to take off of the highway, they were stopped at a roadblock by a National Guard patrol armed with rifles and lists of who would be allowed in.
“I am renting the house at the top of Paradise Circle,” Melanie told the guardsman when he leaned in to inquire about the occupants of the car. “I’ve been living there since July.”
“Only homeowners are allowed up,” he said.
“Well, this is June Blankenship.” Melanie motioned to June sitting next to her. “Look on your list. I am sure Blankenship is on your list.”
The man consulted his clipboard. “Blankenship. Blankenship. Elwood Blankenship.” He turned his attention to June. “You Mrs. Blankenship?”
June swallowed. “I am.”
It wasn’t a lie.
“Can I see some ID?”
June lifted her purse onto her lap and fished out her wallet. Her hand was shaking as she opened it to where her California driver’s license lay framed behind a sleeve of clear plastic.
Melanie took it and handed it to the man.
He looked at it, looked at June, and handed it back.
“All right. You’re allowed to view your home only. Understand? No getting out of the car. It’s not safe to go traipsing about. You need to be back here in ten minutes. And I’m sorry for your loss.”
Melanie felt June startle in the seat and heard her gasp.
“What was that?” Melanie said.
“I said I was sorry for her loss.”
“Loss?” Melanie echoed.
“Her house. It’s a loss. You didn’t know? The new list came out an hour ago. The Blankenship house is a loss. I’m sorry.”
Melanie could not bring herself to look at June sitting next to her. “Oh, my. No. She didn’t know.”
“Remember what I said. Stay in your vehicle. Ten minutes.”
“Right. Thank you.”
The guardsman moved the barricade and Melanie drove forward several hundred yards before she turned to look at June. Behind her she could hear Eva sniffling.
“June?” Melanie glanced at the half-blackened road ahead and then back at June.
June’s face was jarringly void of expression. “It was all for nothing,” she muttered, seemingly only to herself. “I did that horrible thing to Elwood for nothing. For nothing.”
“June!” Melanie persisted. “Look at me.”
But June did not. “I stuffed him into a ball gown bag, zipped him up, and dragged him down the stairs like an ugly old rug I didn’t want anymore.”
