Page 63 of The House of Cross

“Hold on a second,” she said to Bree and Sampson. “Be right with you. I’m addicted to this thing.”

They grabbed chips, homemade turkey sandwiches, and drinks and brought them to the counter as she said, “Ha! There it is!”

She looked up at them, beaming. “Quiltis the Wordle of the day!”

Bree smiled, liking the woman immediately. “My husband’s grandmother plays it.”

“I just started last month,” she said. “I play this and that Spelling Bee. Love them. And the doctor says it’s good for the stuff going on with my memory.”

Sampson said, “Business slow?”

She laughed as she rang up their purchases. “A real snoozer until you two walked in. What brings you up this way in the dead of winter?”

“Are you Lucille Danvers?” Sampson said, and she nodded.

Bree said, “We came to see you, Mrs. Danvers.”

“You did?” she said, the smile fading a little. “About what?”

Sampson said, “We’re detectives investigating a traffic death near Elko, Nevada.”

“Yes?”

“The victim’s name was Ryan Malcomb.”

Lucille Danvers stared blankly at them for a moment, then herhand traveled slowly to her mouth. She got up from behind the counter, waddled fast to the front door, turned the sign fromOPENtoCLOSED,and drew down the blind.

She burst into tears. “Was it my Ryan? Please tell me it wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Bree said, going to her and giving her a hug.

“Even though I had them for only a day, I never stopped loving those boys,” she said as she blubbered. “Even after I married Big Ed and had my girls, I never stopped loving them.”

When she calmed down, she told them the adoptions had been handled by an attorney her mother knew. She and Billy were each given ten thousand dollars to stay quiet about it.

Bree said, “Who was the attorney?”

“Mel Allen in Salmon. He’s dead. Twenty or maybe thirty years ago. I can’t remember so many things these days.”

Sampson said, “And you never heard from the boys?”

“No,” she said sadly. “I got updates over the years from Mel, a few pictures of them and their family, letting me know they were okay and reminding me to keep quiet about the money and all.”

Bree told her that Ryan Malcomb had petitioned the court to unseal his adoption papers, that he had known who his biological parents were. That saddened Mrs. Danvers even more. “He knew who I was and didn’t contact me? I wonder why.”

They showed her a photo of Malcomb, and she was stunned. “I know him,” she said. “He came to the store several times over the past four or five years, said he was rafting and fishing in the area. Sometimes he was fine. Other times, he couldn’t walk very well.”

“He developed muscular dystrophy as a teenager,” Sampsonsaid. He gave her a brief rundown of Malcomb’s accomplishments and wealth but left out his possible involvement in a deadly vigilante ring.

Mrs. Danvers was amazed. “He did all that? My son?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bree said. “And we’re trying to track down his brother.”

“Like I said, I don’t know anything. I can’t help you.”

“Mrs. Danvers,” John said, “by any chance do you still have those photographs of the boys and their family?”

“Big Ed doesn’t know I have them,” she said softly. “But he’s in Twin Falls tonight with our daughter and granddaughter. I’ll go up and get them.”

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