He slammed a fist on the steering wheel. “She said he took her father’s keys, and it’s the SUV, John Fox’s, they’re looking for. Goddamn it.”

  “I feel sick for that little girl, losing her parents this way. But listening to her telling it the way she did, it gave me the creeps.”

  He shot her one look, cool and mild, as he drove. “You’d best get over that. This isn’t our investigation, but those are our people. If you’re going to work our part of it with me, you’d best get over that right quick.”

  Inside the house, Lucy held Thea. “I can give you something to help you sleep awhile.”

  “I don’t want to sleep.”

  “How about you come up with me, lie down in my bed? Darling, I’ve got to call your uncles.” Her voice shook a little on the words. “That’s something I have to do.”

  “Can I stay in your bed tonight?”

  “Of course you can. Come on now.”

  “We have to tell Rem.”

  “Let’s wait till morning. That can wait till morning. He’s going to need your help, Thea. So am I. We’re all going to need each other. We all have to help each other.”

  “They never hurt anybody, Grammie.” Eyes swollen from weeping lifted to Lucy’s. “They never even spanked me or Rem. Even when I guess we deserved it.”

  “I know, I know. Sometimes there’s no understanding. Sometimes something’s so cruel it seems impossible. Lie down, honeypot, maybe close your eyes. You don’t have to sleep. Just rest.”

  “I want them. I want Mom and Dad.”

  “Oh, so do I.”

  She sat, stroking Thea’s hair. “Find a memory of them, a happy memory. Go into that for a while and rest.”

  She sat and stroked. Then she stretched the phone’s cord as far away from the bed as she could to call her sons.

  While she told them, while they wept and she wept, she watched her granddaughter finally drift to sleep, drift into a dream, a soft one.

  “I only need a minute, darling.” She murmured it as she brushed a kiss over Thea’s cheek. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  In her bare feet, she ran down the steps, then out the front door she left open behind her. The wet grass soaked the hem of her sleeping pants as she ran across the road, into the trees.

  Where she screamed and screamed and screamed until the mountains shuddered with her grief.

  * * *

  Lucy didn’t expect to sleep, so took the single hour of oblivion with gratitude. She’d need strength to get through the day, and that hour helped.

  She rose in the predawn light, even more grateful Thea slept and Rem slept on. The thought of Rem and what she’d have to tell him brought tears rushing into her throat.

  She swallowed them back as she dressed. Her animals needed tending. And when they woke, so would the children.

  After yanking her hair back in a tail, she wrote Thea a note.

  I’m just outside, darling, doing the chores.

  On her way down, she peeked into Rem’s room. He slept flat on his stomach, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Cocoa yawned, stretched, then padded out to join Duck and Goose.

  Tails wagged.

  Just a boy, she thought, barely ten. A boy who still smelled of forests and all the wild, wonderful things in it.

  She left him sleeping.

  She’d let the dogs out. She’d make coffee—she needed it—then see to her animals.

  In the kitchen, she turned on the light, started the coffee just like any ordinary day. Just as she would if Cora and John were still on this earth with her.

  Fighting more tears, she walked to the screen door to let the dogs out, to just breathe in the morning mountain air.

  The sun, she knew, would be peeking over the eastern hills, but in this western view the light held back in a quiet, pearly gray.

  In that pearly gray she caught movement by the barn. A movement that walked on two legs. Her first thought was the shotgun locked in the closet in the mudroom. She could have it out and loaded in one quick minute.

  She had children to protect.

  Then she recognized that gangly silhouette, and stepped out on the porch.

  “Will McKinnon.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Lucy. Didn’t mean to give you a start.”

  At seventeen, Will didn’t have his father’s solid build. A walking beanpole with a head full of twists, he carried a lidded pail of milk.

  “I milked Aster. I’ll take her on out to the pasture there. And I’ll see to Molly and your ladies.”

  He didn’t have his father’s build, but he had Tate’s eyes. Wide and deep and now filled with sympathy.

  “Oh, Miss Lucy, I’m so sorry.” He stopped at the porch. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I’m going to take care of things out here. I don’t want you worrying about it.”

  She managed a slippery grip on composure as the gray faded toward light with the rising sun.

  “Did your daddy send you?”

  “No, ma’am. But he said it was fine if I came by and just took care of things for you. I didn’t want to wake you so I didn’t knock.”

  Lucy stepped down to where he stood and took the milk pail, set it on the porch. Then she wrapped her arms around him.

  After a brief hesitation, he wrapped his around her.

  “I’m just so awful sorry. I’ll take care of the milking and such for you, Miss Lucy. You shouldn’t ought to worry about it today.”

  “Thank you, Will. You’ve made this hard day just a little easier for me.”

  “I can do it as long as you need, and anything else needs doing. You just have to tell me.”

  “This morning’s enough for now. It’s helped me when I needed help the most. I’ll take care of the milk.” Stepping back, she patted his cheek. “I can make you a hot breakfast. I’ve already got coffee on.”

  “No, ’um, don’t you worry about that either. I know you’ve got your grandkids. I’m just going to leave Molly’s milk and the eggs on the porch here.”

  “You have a kind heart, Will. It’s going to take you to some good places.” She went onto the porch, picked up the milk pail. “You brought a little light into my dark today.”

  She went back in, then stopped short when she saw Thea and her sleep-starved eyes standing by the kitchen table.

  “Who was that?”

  Lucy set the pail on the counter. “That was Will, Sheriff McKinnon’s boy. He’s taking care of the chores for us this morning.”

  “Did you ask him to?”

  “I didn’t have to. He’s a good young man, a kind one. He sees to things here when I come up…”

  “When you come for Christmas,” Thea finished. “But you won’t come for Christmas anymore.”

  “Thea—”

  “When I woke up, for a few seconds I didn’t remember. I didn’t remember what happened. I didn’t remember about Mom and Dad. Then I did. You weren’t there, and for a few seconds I was scared you were gone, too.”

  “Oh, darling. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, Grammie. You left a note right there on the pillow, so I wasn’t scared very long.”

  To keep her hands busy, to will them not to tremble, Lucy started filtering the milk.

  “I won’t leave you or Rem alone, and that’s a promise. Sit down, honeypot. I’ll make breakfast in a minute.”

  “I’m not hungry, Grammie.”

  “I know, neither am I. But we’re going to have to eat a little anyway. We need to eat and sleep so we can get through this.”

  “I dreamed a memory, like you said. I dreamed the day we got here, and eating fried chicken and buttermilk biscuits. The dogs were wagging, and everybody was talking and laughing. We were all happy.”

  “That’s a good one.” Lucy thought about screaming out her grief again, but she couldn’t.

  She had children to protect.

  “You can pick a good one anytime you need.”

  She put the jug of fresh milk in the milk cooler before reaching for a mug for coffee.

  “Can I have coffee, too?”

  Lucy looked back into those sleep-starved, grieving eyes. “How about I make you a mug of what my mama always called coffee milk?”

  “Okay.”

  Thea said nothing as Lucy fixed up a mug—a lot of milk and sugar with enough coffee to flavor it. She just sat, watching Lucy’s every move. Under the table, her hands twisted together.

  Instead of starting breakfast, Lucy sat at the table, took her first sip of morning coffee.

  Thea tasted hers. “It’s good.”

  “And I’m probably starting you on a lifetime addiction. Thea, I see worry on you. Tell me what worries you.”

  Thea took another sip, then a long breath. “I—I need to know—”

  They both heard Rem bounding down the stairs like a pack of wild dogs.

  Lucy closed her eyes. She would crush his childhood, break his young, happy heart. She had no choice.

  He came rushing in, all grins and energy. As if some of that energy came from an electric socket, his hair stuck out in all directions.

  “There’s somebody outside and he’s feeding the ladies. I saw out the window. Did you hire somebody, Grammie?”

  “No. That’s Will, and he’s doing me a favor.”

  “I can help him, then we can all have buckwheat pancakes, ’cause I’m starving.”

  “Will’s going to take care of it this morning. I need you to sit down here with us.”

  He looked from face to face, and what he saw had the grin falling away from his. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No, sweet potato, you didn’t do anything wrong. Sit down here with us.” When he did, she took his hands in hers. “I have to tell you something, and it’s very hard.”

  “Are you sick or something? You look sick.”

  “I’m not sick, not the way you mean.” And now, she thought, just like for her, for Thea, there would always be a before and after. “My darling, your mama and daddy, they got hurt.”

  “They got in an accident? Are they okay? They’re okay, right?”

  His eyes begged her to say yes, yes, of course. And Lucy couldn’t find the words.

  “It wasn’t an accident. It’s best saying it fast, Grammie. Somebody broke into the house and killed them. He killed them.”

  “Don’t you say that.” The pleading went straight to fury as he tried to yank his hands free. “That’s mean. That’s a lie. You—you’re a lying bitch!”

  Thea didn’t flinch, just kept her eyes on his face.

  “It’s not a lie,” Lucy said, as gently as she could. “I hate telling you it’s truth. Thea’s hurting. I’m hurting, and I’m sorry that hurt’s in you now.”

  “It’s not true!” He wailed it as tears popped out of his eyes. “They’re coming to take us home in a week. And later we’re all going to the beach.”

  Saying nothing, Lucy got up. She lifted him out of the chair, and though he struggled at first, she sat with him in her lap. Rocked him as she had as a baby.

  “It’s not true, Grammie.”

  When he began to sob, Thea got up. She wrapped her arms around both of them and let her own tears come.

  “I’m going to call them. I’m going to call them on the phone.”

  “They’re not there, darling. They’re gone.”

  “How do you know for sure? Did you call? Did you call them?”

  “I saw it. I saw him.” Thea swiped away tears with the back of her arm. “I saw it all.”

  “You’re not supposed to do that!” Outraged and desperate, Rem shoved at her. “Mom doesn’t like it.”

  “I didn’t want to. I couldn’t help it.”

  “That doesn’t make it true.”

  “Rem. Rem.” Lucy shifted, took his face firmly in her hands. His angry, tear-streaked, terrified face. “I saw, too. We called the police, and what we saw is true. I’d give my life, I swear to you, if it wasn’t.”

  “But why! They didn’t hurt anybody.”

  “He hated them.” Thea sat again, gripped her hands tight together. “He didn’t know them, but he hated them anyway. He wanted Mom’s anniversary watch and money and her earrings, and Dad’s car. He just wanted things, but more than the things, he wanted to hurt them. Just because they had them.”

  “Did the police find him and put him in jail?”

  “Sheriff McKinnon will tell us as soon as they do.”

  Now, through the tears, he stared at his sister. “Are they going to? Are they?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t say you don’t know!” His fury slapped at her like angry hands. “If you can see stuff like a freak, why can’t you see that?”

  As Thea laid her head on the table, weeping again, Lucy looked into her grandson’s eyes. She said nothing but his name.

  “I’m sorry.” He slid off Lucy’s lap. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” With more tears, he sat on the floor and hugged Thea’s legs. “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  When Thea got down on the floor with him, when they held each other, cried on each other’s shoulders, Lucy got up. She fetched the milk and eggs Will, in his kindness, had left on the back porch.

  He’d fed the dogs, too, given them fresh water, she noted. Bless him.

  She let her grandchildren give each other comfort in shared grief, and she dealt with the milk, the eggs.

  When she sat again, they came to her.

  She held them both, kissed them both.

  “Y’all sit down now. I’m going to make us some scrambled eggs on toast. That’ll go down easiest, I think.”

  “I’m not hungry, Grammie.”

  “I know.” She kissed Rem again. “But we need to eat a little.”

  “Grammie, I need to know— We need to know,” Thea corrected. “What’s going to happen? What happens now?”

  “Yes, you do. I’m going to make us some breakfast, and we’ll talk about that.”

  Chapter Five

  Thea ate what she could. Food didn’t stem the grief, but the soft scrambled eggs on a slice of sourdough toast helped lessen some of her fears.

  Part of her thought it seemed wrong and selfish to even think about herself, but the other part knew she’d carry the fear and worry until she knew.

  And Rem was two years younger, so she had to look out for him, too.

  And Grammie—Grammie looked so tired, so sad. We all have to help each other, Thea remembered.

  “All right.” Lucy reached out on both sides, to pat their hands. “I appreciate you ate a little. I know you have questions, so maybe you can try to eat a little more while I try to answer them. You want to know what happens now, and I can answer some of it.”

  “Will they make us go back?” It blurted out, that fear. “And get fostered, even separated because—”

  “Right off, no. No to all of that, so put that worry aside. Not long after you were born, Thea, your parents had wills drawn up. Because they had you. And they asked me then, and every time they’ve updated that will since, if I’d take care of you, and Rem, too. If anything happened to them, if you could live with me. So that’s what happens if you both want it to.”

  “We can live here, with you?”

  Lucy nodded at Rem. “I’m your grammie, and I’ll be your legal guardian, and you can live right here, live with me as long as you want.”

  Thea’s shoulders shuddered as she looked down at her plate.

  “Nobody’s going to take you away, my darlings. Nobody’s going to separate you. I promise you that, as solemn a promise as I’ve ever made.”

  “I thought maybe we’d have to go with Dad’s parents, because they’re rich. They don’t even like us, so maybe they’d make us go to foster.”

  “You’re mine. You’ll stay mine. Put that worry aside.”

  “Cocoa, too?”

  “Yes, Rem, Cocoa, too. Let me ask you, do you want to go back to Virginia, get your things? And anything else that you want to have here with you?”

  “I don’t ever want to go back there.” Thea lifted her head again, eyes fierce as she snapped out the words. “I don’t ever want to go in the house again. He killed them there.”

  “Then you don’t have to. Your uncles will go, and they’ll get all your things. They’ll get anything else you want. It’s yours now. Your mama and daddy looked out for you, always. The house, all of it, it’s yours, in a trust.”

  “Can I have Dad’s drawing board?”

  Everything in Lucy softened when she looked at Rem. “Of course you can. I think that would please him, very much. You take all the time you need, the both of you, to think about what you might want.”

  “The house, it’ll just sit there empty?”

  “It could, Thea, if that’s what you want. We could put everything in storage and rent it, if you want that. We could sell it, if you want that.”

  “I don’t ever want to go back. Do you?”

  Rem shook his head.

  “We want to sell it.”

  “All right. You take a few days to think about that, then we’ll talk to the lawyers about it.”

  “Can they come here, too? Mom and Dad.” As he asked, tears swirled into Rem’s eyes. Then in Thea’s as she reached out, gripped his hand. “If we’re not going back, can they come here? They shouldn’t…”

  “They shouldn’t be buried in Virginia.” Still gripping his hand, Thea finished for Rem. “They should be here, with all of us.”

  Lucy pressed her fingers to her mouth, just nodded until she could speak again. “I think that’s what they’d want, too. I’ll see to it. I’m going to ask both of you not to worry. Or if worry comes, to tell me so we can fix it. We have to help each other now, do our best for each other.”

  Rem poked at his eggs. “I’m sorry I called you the b word and a freak. I’ll never ever do it again.”

  “That’s a fine apology, Rem, and a good promise to try to keep. Y’all are going to get mad at each other here and there, now and then. Brothers and sisters do. And that’s all right because under it, you’re always going to love each other.”