realized she was shaking. It was the oddest thing.
A man came on the line and said, âElla tells me youâve got a skeleton in the basement. This donât happen every day. Are you sure itâs a skeleton?â
âYes, quite sure, although, to be honest, Iâve never seen one before, at least lying at my feet on the basement floor.â
âIâll be right there, then. You stay put, maâam.â
Becca was staring down at the phone when Mrs. Ella came back. âEdgar said I was to keep talking to you, not let you go all hysterical. Edgar tends to get tetchy around women who are crying and wailing and carrying on. Iâm surprised that you fell apart on him, given the way you were talking to me about this and that.â
âI appreciate that, Mrs. Ella. Iâm not really hysterical, at least not yet, but how could the sheriff have possibly known that I was wavering on the edge? I never said a word to him.â
âEdgar just knows these things,â Mrs. Ella said comfortably. âHeâs very intuitive, now isnât he? Thatâs why Iâll keep talking to you until he gets there, Miss Powell. Iâm to help you keep your wits together.â
Becca didnât mind a bit. For the next ten minutes, she heard how Ann McBride disappeared between one day and the next, no explanation at all, just as Tyler had told her. She learned that Tyler wasnât Samâs father but his stepfather. Samâs real father had just up and disappeared fromone day to the next, too. Odd, now wasnât it, the both of them, just up and out of here? Of course, Samâs father had been a rotter, whining and bitching about how hard life was, and he didnât want to stay here, so his leaving made some sense, now didnât it? But not Annâs, no, she couldnât have just up and left, not without Sam.
Then Mrs. Ella began with all her pets, and there were a bunch of them since she was sixty-five years old. Finally, Becca heard a car pull up.
âThe sheriff just arrived, Mrs. Ella. I promise I wonât fall apart.â She hung up the phone before Mrs. Ella could give her own motherâs tried-and-true recipe for stretched nerves. And she wouldnât fall apart, either, because by Mrs. Ellaâs fifth dog, a terrier named Butch, there were no more tears in her eyes and the bubbling, liquid laughter was long dried up.
Sheriff Gaffney had seen the Powell girl around town, but he hadnât met her. She looked harmless enough, he thought, remembering how she was squeezing a cantaloupe in the produce department at Food Fort when he first saw her. She was pretty enough, but right then, she was as white as his shirtfront last night before heâd eaten spaghetti. Sheâd opened the front door of the old Marley place and was standing there staring at him.
âIâm the law,â he said, and took his sheriffâs hat off. There was something odd about her, something that wasnât quite right, and it wasnât her too-pale face. Well, finding a skeleton could put a person off in a whole lot of ways. He wished sheâd stop gaping at him like she didnât have a brain or, God forbid, was hysterical. He was afraid she would burst into tears and he was ready to do just about anything to prevent that. He threw back his shoulders and stuck out a huge hand. âSheriff Gaffney, maâam. Whatâs this about a skeleton in your basement?â
âItâs a woman, Sheriff.â
He shook her hand, pleased and relieved that now she appeared reasonably under control and her lower lipwasnât trembling. Her eyes looked perfectly dry to him, from what he could tell through her glasses. âShow me this skeleton who you believe with your untrained eye is a woman, maâam,â he said, âand weâll see if youâre guessing right.â
Iâm in never-never land, Becca thought as she showed Sheriff Gaffney down to Jacob
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley