Free A Killing at Cotton Hill by Terry Shames Page B

know you’re working hard at it.”
    He stares at me for a minute, trying to work out if I’m being a smartass, but he can’t make anything out of what I said. Finally he says, “You got that right. I’m on it.” He slides back into the car and peels out.
    Late in the afternoon the coroner’s office calls to say I can send somebody to come and pick up Dora Lee’s body. A sense of relief goes through me. I’m glad to get her out of the hands of people she didn’t know. I call Ernest Landau and he says they’ll send somebody up right away to take care of her. I appreciate the way he says, “take care of her.” He knows the right lingo.
    He asks me if I could bring the boy down to select a casket and go over a few things. I tell him I’ll have him down there soon and ask him not to bring up the issue of money with the boy, just to leave that part to me.
    I expect Greg to balk when I tell him we need to pick a casket and make some decisions down at the funeral home, but he says he guesses it has to be done. Without me telling him to he goes to his little shack and comes back wearing a clean pair of pants and a button shirt.
    It turns out that the boy has opinions about the casket and the music and the way the service should go. He privately tells me he’s not sure Dora Lee would have wanted Duckworth to perform the service. I tell him I agree with him, but that some things just have to be left the best they can be. It would cause a big commotion if we rattled that cage. He holds out a little longer, but seeing as how he doesn’t know anybody better, he agrees.
    Back at the house the refrigerator is full of casseroles and sweets, but suddenly I have an appetite for a good steak. “Look here, Greg. What would you think about going over to the steakhouse in Bobtail to get something to eat?”
    He gets real still and I suspect he’s worried about how to pay for his end of things.
    â€œIt’s on me. I don’t think I can face a tuna casserole.”
    He manages a grin. “I know what you mean.”
    â€œLet me ask you this. Have you got a girlfriend, or a friend you’d like to invite to come along?”
    His face gets as red as a fire truck. “Nossir, I kind of stick to myself.”
    â€œDo you mind if I invite Jenny Sandstone? You may yet end up needing her law services, and it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her.”
    He says that’s fine with him. On the way to my place, we swing by Jenny’s office. It’s closed up tight, but since she lives right next door to me I can kill two birds with one rock. When I phone, she admits she was facing leftovers and is pleased to go with us.
    While we wait for her to get ready, I take Greg with me down to the pasture to check on the cows. One of them has a little pebble stuck in its hoof and I take the time to whittle it out with my pocketknife.
    Like all women I’ve known, Jenny takes a while to get ready, but finally she calls and we go and pick her up. It’s a squeeze getting the three of us into the truck, but Jenny smells good and is in a fine humor, and nobody seems to mind being a little crowded. We have a pleasant evening. Jenny manages to put the boy at ease and none of us brings up the matter of Dora Lee’s murder. For my part I enjoy the steak and feel livelier than I have in some time. I’m guessing it has something to do with suddenly being handed a purpose.

Saturday morning, Loretta comes back out and has to get caught up on every detail of the funeral arrangements. I ask her if she would mind figuring out what clothes to put Dora Lee in for her final resting. She tells me she’ll be proud to do it. “But you know Ida Ruth was Dora Lee’s best friend and she got back last night from Waco. I better call her to come out here and help me, or she’ll get her feelings hurt.”
    â€œI’m glad you thought of it. And that reminds me