Scrapbook of the Dead by Mollie Cox Bryan

from overseas?”
    â€œWho knows why Pamela does what she does,” DeeAnn said. “Money has never been an issue for her, right?”
    â€œOh no,” Beatrice cackled. “Not at all. She went from her rich daddy to her rich husband.”
    â€œVery difficult for me to relate to,” DeeAnn said. “I’ve had to struggle and work hard for everything I have, including the bakery. I can’t do fancy events and mark my goods down to reel people in.” Her heart began to race as she thought about the unfairness of all of it. How can I compete with people like Pamela?
    â€œNow hold on,” Vera said. “What you’re saying is true. But she’s always been good to you. She’s never said a bad thing about you or the bakery. And she’s so filthy rich I’ve often wondered why she bothers working. She could be sitting around all day or doing lunch with the ladies, or whatever rich women do. Instead, she works.”
    â€œWell,” DeeAnn said after a moment. “I guess you told me.”
    Vera laughed.
    â€œWe’ve got to get going,” Beatrice said. “Is there anything we can get for you? More books?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t finished the ones you already gave me,” DeeAnn said. “Jacob will be home soon. Don’t worry about me.” Her back was beginning to jab at her again. Damn, she wished he’d hurry home.
    After everybody left, she opened her new laptop to the scrapbooking program that Karen had loaded for her and began to place graduation photos onto a virtual page with virtual paper she had selected.
    Karen had graduated top of her class in nursing school. DeeAnn had just started to journal a little bit about it—Karen in her cap and gown. She loved thinking about her and her sister, a year behind in nursing school. She was thinking about studying midwifery in England. England , for God’s sakes! Fear tore through DeeAnn’s body. What if she went to England and something happened to her, like it did with Marina and Esmeralda? How would she know? Suddenly, Beatrice’s busybody-ness—finding the girls’ family—made sense. It wouldn’t take away their pain and confusion, but it might provide some comfort.
    DeeAnn sifted through the memories of Hathaway Transatlantic. Things were pretty fuzzy. It was the damn drugs. She could not think clearly; she was still in pain. Why did she have to choose between pain and more pills? Couldn’t anybody help her?

Chapter 22
    â€œSit down, please,” Sheriff Bixby said to Annie. “What can I help you with?”
    The sheriff’s office was nice, clean, and warm with plants in the room and pictures of flowers on the wall. Sheriffs were very different from police officers. They served at the will of the people. It was important that their constituency like them.
    Is that why Sheriff Bixby is so polite? Annie wondered. “I’m writing about the Martelino sisters. I’m here because Marina was found in your jurisdiction and I have some questions.”
    â€œFire away. Hasn’t been a murder in the county since 2001 and that was a crime of passion, a domestic dispute. It’s rare for us to have a homicide.”
    â€œWere you the sheriff back in 2001?”
    â€œI’ve been the sheriff for twenty-six years. I’m proud to serve the people of Albamont County.” Sheriff Bixby tapped his fingers on his desk, keeping time to some unknown tune in his head.
    â€œDo you know Pamela Kraft and her husband well?”
    â€œNo, they run in different circles.” He grinned and stopped tapping.
    â€œBut she is on the up and up?” Annie persisted.
    â€œWhat do you mean? Permits and so forth?” Sheriff Bixby asked, leaning forward, reaching for a pencil.
    Annie nodded.
    â€œAs far as I know, she’s as legit as it gets,” he said, tapping the pencil. The man just couldn’t sit still.
    â€œIsn’t it