Free Promises of Home by Jeff Abbott Page B

return.
    “Arlene, hello.” Hart really should have taken that foreign service test; he’s a natural diplomat. “I know you must feel awfully upset—”
    “Shut up, Hart, and just tell me where Trey is,” Arlene snapped. “I don’t want to hear from you.”
    Now, I’d be the first to note that Sister can be a tad sharp-tongued. I’ve been sliced, diced, and julienne-fried by her more than once. But rude; that’s never been her style. I stepped forward and took her shoulder. She slapped my hand away.
    “Let me be, Jordan. I’m not about to be patronized by you.”
    “I’m not about to patronize you,” I shot back. “Listen to me, Sister. This is not the time or place for you to confront Trey. People are grieving here, including me. Now, if you have any common sense left or respect for the dead, you’ll go on home. How on earth did you know Trey was here?”
    “A little birdie named Ivalou called me. He’s in the house?” She’d ignored everything I’d said. “Fine. Either you get him out here or I’ll go in there and fetch him.Your choice.” She crossed her arms and I could practically see the roots shoot out of her feet. She wasn’t budging.
    Hart remained silent, and I saw the group on the porch had become still. I leaned in close to Sister’s implacable face. “Sister, please don’t do this. Please don’t do this to Mrs. Shivers. For God’s sake, her boy’s been murdered. You’ll embarrass yourself and our whole family.”
    Her mouth crinkled, but she wasn’t to be diverted. “I’m only interested in one former member of the family right now, Jordy. Go get him, please.”
    I knew from her tone that there was no arguing with her. All I could try to do was minimize the damage. I glanced at Hart and headed up to the house.
    Under other circumstances, Trey might consider me fetching him a rescue. He’d been cornered by Wanda Dickensheets and her mother, Ivalou Purcell. Ivalou’s not one of my favorite people. She always sweetens you up with honeyed words, but she’s so mean her folks fed her with a slingshot. I was not pleased she’d decided to phone Sister and stir up trouble. When I came in, Trey had a tired, indulgent smile on his face while Ivalou bragged about the fortune Ed and Wanda were going to see from their new Elvis emporium.
    Ivalou leaned in over Trey and patted her helmet of tightly curled gray hair.
    “I’m so glad you could come see poor Truda in her time of need. Of course it’s too bad you didn’t get to see Clevey before he passed away. Bad timing, I guess. Anyhow, I should go out and say hello to Hart. I haven’t seen him in several weeks.”
    Probably because he saw you first, I thought, but didn’t say. Ivalou was one of the more piranhalike of the local widows, avidly seeking bachelor flesh to sink her teeth into. Trey glanced up at me, clearly recognizing that he was caught between a rock and a hard place.
    “Ladies.” I nodded to Wanda and Ivalou. “If y’all will excuse us, I need to talk to Trey privately.”
    Ivalou Purcell kept her pasted-on smile glued in place. Wanda took the hint and steered her mother into a conversationwith Cayla Foradory. Ivalou followed her, but not before sharing with us: “Yes, I’m sure you two boys have a great deal to catch up on. Seen your family yet, Trey?” She didn’t wait for an answer; she wasn’t interested in one, anyway. I waited until Ivalou was out of striking range before I leaned down to Trey’s ear.
    “Look, Trey, Arlene’s outside and she’s insisting on seeing you. If I don’t come back with you, she’s coming in here with both guns blazing, and I don’t want anything to upset poor Mrs. Shivers any further. So I’m sorry, but you’re going outside to talk with her.”
    I could feel tension surge through his body. “Why— why’s she here now?”
    “I don’t know. It’s your problem now, not mine.” I wasn’t about to get in between the irresistible force and the immovable object. I