Out the Summerhill Road: A Novel

Girls in White Dresses

2 Out the Summerhill Road Girls in White Dresses It was horrible! Just horrible! Rosemary Winslow murdered! Her body found in the Park the night, the very night, of Sarah’s slumber party! Rosemary Winslow. A nice girl. Who could believe it? Not her best friends who waited until three in the morning before they woke up Sarah’s parents to tell them they didn’t know where she was or why she hadn’t come. When the girls saw the grim look on Mrs. Claiborne’s face and watched as Mr. Claiborne threw on his robe and rushed down the stairs to the telephone, they began to realize that something was horribly, dreadfully wrong. But even as the police were called and a search was begun, nobody dreamed it would end in a nightmare. Who could believe that? Not Rosemary’s father, who, after the call came from Sarah’s dad, hugged his wife and said, “Stay here. By the phone. In case she calls.” And Jacob Winslow threw a coat on over his pajamas, jumped into his car and drove slowly, forced himself to drive slowly, so that he could look down every drive between his house and the Claibornes’ for his baby girl’s blue convertible. But when he saw the two police cars blocking the entrance to the Park, saw a policeman holding his cap in his hand and with his face turned to stone, Jacob knew it was bad. He stepped out of his car and threw up before the policeman could say they had found a young man’s body in the Park beside a blue Chevrolet convertible and that a search for his daughter had already begun. One hour later Rosemary’s body was found. When that news came, Rosemary’s best friends—young, innocent, heartbroken—tearfully told the police they did not know a thing that might have triggered the slightest alarm about Rosemary’s safety while they waited for her to show up. And then, after a few questions, the girls were shielded by their parents from insensitive questions asked by the police, ques- Part 1 • Girls in White Dresses 3 tions that bore no fruit and that might cause psychological distress to their sensitive daughters. By good daylight telephones were ringing all over Cold Springs; parents were tiptoeing into their teenage children’s bedrooms to be sure they were safe, and later that morning, the terrible news came from church pulpits, news sad beyond the telling of it. At Bryce’s cafeteria, the Gleeboff twins swore they would find the man who murdered Rosemary. They called their buddies in Troop 18, called all the guys who could finagle a car, to meet at the high school and form a search party. Bane and Hollingsworth, with red-rimmed eyes, said they would be there with their gas tanks full. Aston, red-faced and sweating , brought up the rear in his dad’s old Chevrolet, but when the dozen or so cars arrived at the Summerhill exit that led into the Park, the boys found that road had also been closed. f On the night of Sarah’s slumber party, a kind of madness had come over the girls. After all, they were seniors! Seniors in Cold Springs High School and about to go off to college where their lives could begin. Seriously begin. The night Rosemary was murdered not a one of Sarah’s guests had arrived at Sarah ’s house before ten o’clock, and Sarah herself had shown up only a few minutes before ten. For weeks rumors had been flying all over town about the Park. Tramps taking a short cut through the Park had worn a trail between the Summerhill Road and 29th Street. And by 1946, a year after the War, soldiers had begun to hang out at the Park. With its great old native oaks and loblolly pines, its spring-fed lake and narrow dirt paths winding through the woods, the Park brought these men the sense of camaraderie they had known all through the War. During the day, they looked for work; at night they hung out together and looked 4 Out the Summerhill Road for women. “Bless them all,” the people of Cold Springs said about their heroes and meant it. Cold Springs was grateful, but . . . still, the soldiers were too old, too experienced for their young daughters. And there was...