Page 123 of For the Birds

“But you know I’m willin’ to help. So if you need anything, ask me, okay?”

“Yeah. It might be nice for us to just hang out in the afternoons . . . like we used to sometimes.”

“We’ll even make cookies,” I said. “Only, this time you can be the one watchin’, even if it’s your own kitchen. Or maybe you and the kids can come out to the farm. They can chase Muffy around and wear themselves out while we sit on the porch drinking lemonade or tea and relaxin’. I’ll come pick y’allup.”

A soft smile lit up her face. “Okay. Deal.”

I stood but stayed next to the sofa because I still hadn’t gotten around to the business that had brought me here. “Vi, could I ask you a question about some people from the Henryetta Baptist Church?”

She frowned at my seemingly out-of-nowhere question. “Yeah. Sure . . .”

“Do you remember a Seymour and Mary Ellen Constant?”

Violet’s frown deepened. “They sound vaguely familiar. Give me a moment. My memory hasn’t been the same since the chemo.” She was silent for several seconds; then she smiled. “I do. Mary Ellen was my Sunday school teacher. She used to give us peppermints when we recited our memory verses. She was sweet. I think she stopped teaching right after my grade, so you probably never had her. I haven’t thought of her in years.”

“What about her daughter and her son-in-law, Pam and Timothy Beagle?”

She nodded. “I remember Miss Pam. Seems like she had two sons who were older thanus.”

“Yes,” I said, trying not to get too excited. “Do you happen to know their names?”

“I remember Paul . . . He was older than me, by about five years. He had an older brother who went to prison. I don’t ever remember meeting him. I just heard abouthim.”

“I’ve tried to look up Paul Beagle, but he doesn’t seem to exist.”

“That’s because he doesn’t,” Violet said. “Mr. Beagle’s not their father. Pam got divorced when Paul was a baby and remarried a few years later.”

No wonder we hadn’t found any records of him. “So what was theirlastname?”

Her mouth twisted to the side like she was concentrating hard, but then she shook her head. “I can’t remember. I’m sorry.” She looked close to tears.

I sat on the coffee table and grabbed her hand. “No. Don’t be sorry.”

“I just feel so stupid when I can’t remember things.”

“It’s a whole lot more than I can remember. And I don’t have an excuse.” I grinned even though I was disappointed. “If it comes to you, will you textme?”

“Sure.”

I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You get some rest, and I’ll check on you tomorrow.” I paused. “I love you, Violet.”

“I love you too, Rose.”

I left the house even though I didn’t have a car. I started walking, hoping I’d get some brilliant ideas on how to handle this. Witt’s vision was prominent in my head, and I knew at some point I’d ditch Neely Kate and her cousin today. What if I had to separate from them so I could find Scooter? Maybe this was the time to doit.

I grabbed my phone and calledJed.

“How do you feel about breakin’ into a house withme?”

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