Page 98 of Death on Riddle Road
“She acknowledged it?”
“Yup.”
“We need to talk to her, get corroboration—”
“Maybe you do, but we already have what we need.”
That’s when I said we’d have all the players at Kentucky Manor’s hospice center in an hour and we’d go ahead with or without him.
Not that I said it that baldly, but he got the drift.He is, after all, a good detective.
He agreed.With caveats.
As our call ended, a word echoed in my head.
Pieces...
Pieces of history caught up in the fabric of the present.Revealing themselves only by an occasional crackle, like the leaves in Gracie’s coat.
A swirl of thoughts and memories, snatches of conversation and impressions.
“Hattie.”
“What?”Clara asked.
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud.I repeated it anyway.“Hattie.”
“Donna’s Hattie?”Clara asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh-kay.”She drew out the first syllable.“Does that mean something?”
“I...I think so.”
Clara, bless her, didn’t ask what it meant.
I didn’t leave her much time to, because I said, “You have more calls to make.If you trust me.”
“Of course I trust you.Why do you have that look on your face?”
“That phrase —trust me.”
“Oh, right.A favorite of abusers.”
“And liars.Though it can take different forms.And I just realized another phrase that’s a close relative.”I shook my head.
“You’re not going to tell me the other phrase.No, don’t make an excuse.I’ll make the calls.And hope I can get them there the way you told Teague they’d be.”
“You will.”
****
Clara ended herlast call as I parked at Kentucky Manor.
Inside, we headed for the little conversation spot where we’d met Mamie and Robbie before.
There were other people in the first hallway, so it wasn’t until we’d turned the corner and passed Room One-Twenty-Seven that Clara made a demand.
