hugged them and all the women, murmuring how sorry I was, how enraged and stunned. As I looked into their faces, the weight in my heart grew heavier. Jerald’s eyes were hollow, like those of an old man. The make-up on Evy May’s lined face was tracked with tears. Nothing I could say or do would take away the grief in this house.
They graciously offered me food. Drink. All I could handle was water.
Dora’s green eyes were red-rimmed, her typical graceful way of moving now rigid. She held herself like a statue threatening to crack. “We have plenty to eat, as you can see, and more in the oven for lunch.” She waved a hand at the casseroles and salads lining the counter. “I’ve just been trying to put it all away. People have been so kind …” Her face crumpled. She turned away. Gretchen wrapped her in a hug.
Fresh anger simmered within me. The waste of it. Of a precious life, so ready to be lived. Clara would never be married. Never have children. Never grow into the mature, incredible woman that she would have become. And for what? Who would do this?
Dora pulled away from her sister and wiped her eyes. She turned a circle in her kitchen, as if not knowing what direction to take next. “I have to get all this food put away.”
Evy May laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll do it, Dora.”
“No.” Dora’s voice sharpened. “I have to keep busy. I have to do … something.” She yanked open the refrigerator door and started shoving its contents around. Then, just like that, she slammed it shut and turned to me. “What did you see last night? I have to know.”
“I want to hear, too.” Dave Crenshaw sounded so weary, as if he’d walked a thousand miles. His expression bore the intaglio of anguish. Gazing at him, I remembered my own father, mourning his wife. “Just a little while ago we heard Chief Melcher took Billy King down to the station,” Dave said. “We’ve been hearing about Billy all morning. He was there, right there when Clara was …” He swallowed hard. “Did you see him, Delanie?
Something inside me snapped. I pressed a hand against my mouth. No, no, I could not cry now. These people deserved answers, not to watch me break down. But I couldn’t stop the tears, and once they started, they flowed for so many people. For Clara and her family. For Billy. For myself accused of murder those years ago, and my father. For my mom.
“I’m so sorry.” The words sputtered from me.
“It’s okay.” Gretchen handed me a tissue.
They all watched as I pulled myself together, which took too long. I could feel their aching need to know who took their Clara . To see justice done.
“If you interfere anymore in this investigation, I will haul you off to jail.”
But Clara’s family had asked what I’d seen. How could I not tell them the truth?
I balled the tissue in a fist. “I saw a man. But it wasn’t Billy.”
The questions came fast. “How do you know?” “Who was it, then?” “What was he doing?”
My mouth opened, and out came the answers. All of them. Including how Mr. Grayson and I had measured the bush.
Dora held on to the kitchen counter, drinking in my every word. “But I heard that Becky insists she saw Billy.”
“I’m sure she did. But it doesn’t mean he was involved in this.”
Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. That boy … He’s had a crush on Clara for a long time.”
“And I never did anything about it.” Jerald thrust a hand in his hair.
Evy May patted his shoulder. “How could you know, he always seemed so harmless.”
“But I should have seen it. I should have known …”
My throat tightened. Had they not heard a thing I said?
“Well, we’ll just see what Billy King was doing on that street.” Dora’s voice hardened. “Right now I’m not believing in coincidence.”
The phone rang. Dave answered it. All eyes followed him, waiting to hear his end of the conversation. Would it be more news? Or simply another friend,
They graciously offered me food. Drink. All I could handle was water.
Dora’s green eyes were red-rimmed, her typical graceful way of moving now rigid. She held herself like a statue threatening to crack. “We have plenty to eat, as you can see, and more in the oven for lunch.” She waved a hand at the casseroles and salads lining the counter. “I’ve just been trying to put it all away. People have been so kind …” Her face crumpled. She turned away. Gretchen wrapped her in a hug.
Fresh anger simmered within me. The waste of it. Of a precious life, so ready to be lived. Clara would never be married. Never have children. Never grow into the mature, incredible woman that she would have become. And for what? Who would do this?
Dora pulled away from her sister and wiped her eyes. She turned a circle in her kitchen, as if not knowing what direction to take next. “I have to get all this food put away.”
Evy May laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll do it, Dora.”
“No.” Dora’s voice sharpened. “I have to keep busy. I have to do … something.” She yanked open the refrigerator door and started shoving its contents around. Then, just like that, she slammed it shut and turned to me. “What did you see last night? I have to know.”
“I want to hear, too.” Dave Crenshaw sounded so weary, as if he’d walked a thousand miles. His expression bore the intaglio of anguish. Gazing at him, I remembered my own father, mourning his wife. “Just a little while ago we heard Chief Melcher took Billy King down to the station,” Dave said. “We’ve been hearing about Billy all morning. He was there, right there when Clara was …” He swallowed hard. “Did you see him, Delanie?
Something inside me snapped. I pressed a hand against my mouth. No, no, I could not cry now. These people deserved answers, not to watch me break down. But I couldn’t stop the tears, and once they started, they flowed for so many people. For Clara and her family. For Billy. For myself accused of murder those years ago, and my father. For my mom.
“I’m so sorry.” The words sputtered from me.
“It’s okay.” Gretchen handed me a tissue.
They all watched as I pulled myself together, which took too long. I could feel their aching need to know who took their Clara . To see justice done.
“If you interfere anymore in this investigation, I will haul you off to jail.”
But Clara’s family had asked what I’d seen. How could I not tell them the truth?
I balled the tissue in a fist. “I saw a man. But it wasn’t Billy.”
The questions came fast. “How do you know?” “Who was it, then?” “What was he doing?”
My mouth opened, and out came the answers. All of them. Including how Mr. Grayson and I had measured the bush.
Dora held on to the kitchen counter, drinking in my every word. “But I heard that Becky insists she saw Billy.”
“I’m sure she did. But it doesn’t mean he was involved in this.”
Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. That boy … He’s had a crush on Clara for a long time.”
“And I never did anything about it.” Jerald thrust a hand in his hair.
Evy May patted his shoulder. “How could you know, he always seemed so harmless.”
“But I should have seen it. I should have known …”
My throat tightened. Had they not heard a thing I said?
“Well, we’ll just see what Billy King was doing on that street.” Dora’s voice hardened. “Right now I’m not believing in coincidence.”
The phone rang. Dave answered it. All eyes followed him, waiting to hear his end of the conversation. Would it be more news? Or simply another friend,
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