Free An Accidental Death by Phyllis Smallman Page B

pants and a square-cut orange flowered blouse, an outfit that did nothing to enhance her appearance. But looks had never been the important thing about Aunt Kay. She had something far rarer than beauty; she was easy to love.
    Frozen in front of the window, I watched her uneven gait as she made her way to the house. My brain was doing a quick survey of potential disasters and came up with too many possibilities to make speculation worthwhile.
    When she reached the carport and disappeared from my sight, I rushed to the kitchen door. I stepped out onto the small stoop, holding the screen door open with my butt, and waited as she pulled herself up the rickety wooden steps on knees that no longer bent.
    Aunt Kay stopped at the top, gave me a weak smile, and turned to wave at the police car. The cop saluted and reversed out onto Beach Road.
    “What are you doing here?” I reached out and kissed her smooth cheek and hugged her, smelling the familiar odor of rose-scented talc. The fragrance brought back feelings of comfort and safety. Aunt Kay had been my afterschool caregiver through most of grade school, and my weekend minder while my mother worked and Tully Jenkins, my mostly absent father, was either in disgrace or hauling oranges north.
    I liked going to Aunt Kay’s house. It was close to my best friend Marley Hemming’s house and there was always a jumble of kids to play with. Later, when I was too old to need watching and an abusive man moved in with my mother, Aunt Kay’s was my safe place to hide from his hands. She never turned me away or pushed me to tell her what was bothering me. She just accepted that I needed to be there.
    “What’s happened?” I was desperate to hear the worst now, needed to know the full extent of the nameless horror about to crash into me. “Why is a cop delivering you to my door? Why are you here?”
    I tried to hug her again but Aunt Kay shook me off. “Oh for goodness’ sake, Sherri, give me a minute.”
    I held the door while she went inside, dropped her bag on the table, took a deep breath, and then let the air out all in a rush. “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”
    I waited, my mind chasing shadows. Someone had to be dead. My first thought was Clay. But he was up north at Cedar Key and Aunt Kay barely knew him.
    It couldn’t be Marley. She was out at the ranch with Tully and if either of them were dead the other would have called. But what if they were both dead?
    I reached out to touch Aunt Kay’s arm. It felt chilled and damp, like her blood had gone cold. “Just tell me.”
    “It’s Holly.”
    “Holly Mitchell?” I said the name just to be sure I had the right person . . . that I’d heard correctly.
    Aunt Kay nodded. “She’s dead.”
    “She can’t be! Holly’s too young.” Silly thing to say—being twenty-one is no protection from death. “Was it an accident?”
    Aunt Kay looked away and her lip quivered.