Page 17 of Crosshairs

If she was trying to make him feel better, it wasn’t working.Linc pushed the past away and concentrated on how they could honor him. “Blake loved the water. What do you say to a picnic lunch at Natchez Lake? Maybe take your dad?”

Her face lit up. “You’d do that? Take time to be with us Wednesday?”

“Of course. Blake was my best friend.” Spending time with Blake’s family on the anniversary of his death was the least he could do.

8

Ainsley set the to-go boxes on her grandmother’s table.

“What’s that?” Gran asked as she entered the kitchen, cinching the belt on her robe. Even this early, every hair was in place. Did she still sleep in a silk hair bonnet?

“Breakfast.”

While her hair looked great, last night’s activities had taken their toll on Gran. Tired lines creased her normally smooth skin. Ainsley couldn’t believe that at thirty-four she had more wrinkles than her eighty-five-year-old grandmother.

“I only meant to get coffee, but everything smelled so good.” Ainsley frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Setting the table. I will not eat eggs from a foam box,” she said, handing her a mug. “Here’s something to put your coffee in.”

“I like drinking from Styrofoam.” It was what she was used to on the job, but when in Rome ... She poured the coffee into the mug, popped it in the microwave, and heated it for half a minute. “I also went by the hospital and checked on Cora,” Ainsley said as she sat down to eat bacon and eggs on the china plate.

“How is she?”

“About the same. The doctor came by, and if the next CT scan doesn’t show improvement, they’ll do surgery later today.”

Gran laid her fork down. “S-surgery?”

“Yes.” She explained what the doctor had told her. “If the bleeding doesn’t stop, they’ll have to go in to relieve the pressure.”

Her grandmother leaned back in the kitchen chair. “Oh my,” she whispered. “When can I see her?”

“Next visiting hours are at ten.” Ainsley checked her watch. “And I have to leave in five minutes if I’m going to meet Sam Ryker and the Claiborne County sheriff at the Port Gibson ranger station. I won’t be back in time to drive you to the hospital.”

“Excuse me?” Her grandmother’s blue eyes snapped. “Since when do I need a driver?”

“I just thought—”

“I know what you thought, and I’m not having it. Up ’til now, I’ve handled all kinds of emergencies without you. I can handle this.”

Ainsley knew Gran didn’t mean to make her feel guilty for not coming home more often, but the words stung. “I’ll get back as soon as I can,” she said.

“You just find whoever killed that poor girl and give her folks closure.”

“I plan to.” But what if she didn’t? Doubt always swept through her at the beginning of a case. Didn’t matter how many cases she’d solved or commendations she’d won.

Gran patted her hand. “I have total confidence you will.”

Ainsley wished she was as confident as her grandmother. With breakfast finished, she rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher, mentally ticking off a to-do list.

Gran cleared her throat, getting her attention. “I made you an appointment with Harold Blackwell for Monday at nine o’clock.”

Blackwell. The name rang a bell. “And this appointment is for ...?”

“Oh, Ainsley. Your trustee. You get the funds from the trust on your next birthday.”

Ohhh. The inheritance from her mother that had been put in a trust fund. She’d forgotten the fund would end next year when she turned thirty-five.

She hadn’t given it a thought in years, not since the last timeher grandmother made an appointment for her with Blackwell that Ainsley’d had to cancel. Actually, she’d never thought of the money in the trust as “real” money. Sure, it would be nice to have, what was it, a hundred thousand dollars? She’d probably leave it where it was for retirement, but like the trust fund, retirement was the last thing on her mind.

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