Page 84 of Grounded
It was well into the night, but they were all too wound up to go to bed. Annie missed Evelyn’s soothing words in the group, but she was in Lexington taking care of her sister Dixie, who broke her arm.
The unspoken questions hovered over the group. Had someone been in the upstairs? Would they find a body tomorrow morning? The thought nauseated Annie, the stench of fire and wet wood still strong in her nose.
When the phone rang, Annie grabbed it and handed it to her grandmother.
“This is Beulah,” she said.
There was a long pause. Annie tried to read the look on her grandmother’s face, but as in so many other times when Annie had watched her under stress, her facial expression betrayed nothing.
“Thank you.” She handed the phone back to Annie to hang up.
“It was Jeb. He said no evidence of a body so far, but they still haven’t found Stella. They think the fire might have started from a candle.”
Jake nodded and stood. “I’m going on home. Call if you need me.” He looked at Beulah when he said the words but his eyes didn’t seek hers.
“We better all get to bed. I’m as weak as a kitten.” Betty stood and put the coffee cups in the sink.
“I’ll get that tomorrow morning,” Annie said. “Thank you all for coming over and sitting with us.”
“And for calling the fire department. Evelyn’s cow knew when to calve, didn’t she?” Beulah said.
“She’s a fine little Jersey heifer. Annie, you might want her for a milk cow. You could call her Firebug,” Joe said.
It felt good to laugh after the intensity of the night. “I might,” Annie teased back.
From the back door, Annie watched the Gibsons walk to their truck, and she felt an overwhelming exhaustion press down on her.
“You need anything before I go upstairs?” she asked her grandmother.
“Nothing. I’m glad you were here with me, Annie. With Evelyn gone, I would’ve been up a creek with this knee not quite right yet.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The next morning, Detective Jeb Harris sat in the living room. Beulah was full of a hundred questions, but she sat as patient as she could be and waited on him to set the pace.
“We found Stella Hawkins last night,” Jeb said.
“She was in the house?” Annie asked.
“No, she had gone to Rutherford to get groceries. When she turned down your road and saw the fire, she panicked and tried to leave the county. One of the deputies spotted the car and pulled her over. We brought her in for questioning and identification as the missing person.”
Beulah exhaled, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath. “Why was she a missing person?”
“Yeah, did she do something wrong?”
“Nothing illegal. She drove down from Chicago in a distressed state, planning to end her life at some point on the journey, but she can tell you about all that. As for her legal troubles, it will depend on how you all feel about her leaving a candle unattended and damaging your property.”
“But what was she dumping in the creek?” Annie asked, her forehead creased like the folds in a quilt.
“Nothing. She was using the bucket to sit by the creek, then decided to try scooping up minnows, then pour them back out. She was … playing, for lack of a better word.”
Beulah rubbed her forehead, wishing she could remove the dull ache that gripped her head like a vice. “Jeb Harris, you’re telling me this woman walked out of her life up North, came down here planning to kill herself, and ended up playing in our creek?”
Beulah didn’t know quite what he found so funny, but Jeb burst out in laughter.
“There’s more to it, but she wants to tell you herself. I’ll bring her out as soon as we’re finished.”
He started out the door and hesitated. “You might have reporters and TV crews bothering you about the fire and Stella’s ordeal. If you get phone calls, tell them you’re cooperating with the police. If you want, we can block off the end of your driveway for the day if it would give you some peace and quiet.”
