in front of Iris’ house. It was similar to Gladys’ house, except it was a light blue with white trim. The front door opened, and Iris came out. She stood on the porch as I gathered the photo albums in the front seat. One of them fell sideways from the seat onto the floorboard, and I picked it up, putting it on top. “Here, let me help you with those,” Iris said, coming down the steps toward me.
Gratefully, I let her take half of the large albums. “How’s she doing?”
Iris shook her head. “She’s fluctuating between denial and grief. I’m going to have to buy more tissues soon; she’s already gone through three boxes, bless her heart.”
“Mom says you were all childhood friends,” I said.
“That’s true,” Iris confirmed. “Our families were all good friends, so it was natural that the three of us became good friends as well. Goodness, these things are heavy!”
I followed her into the house. Iris put the albums on the coffee table in front of the couch, which is where Gladys was sitting. “Hello, Gladys,” I said, sitting next to her on the couch. “I hope I brought the albums you wanted. They were the only ones we found in the master bedroom.”
“These are the ones I wanted. Thank you, dear,” she said absentmindedly, patting my left hand. I looked at Iris, who shrugged.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Are the police through searching the house yet?”
I hesitated, unsure of what I should say. “Um, no, not yet. They were still there when I left.”
“I don’t know why Owen and that deputy of his are even bothering. They aren’t going to find anything,” she said, squeezing my hand as she got more upset. I used my free hand to remove her fingernails from my trapped hand.
“Of course they won’t,” Iris reassured her. She looked at me, and even though I did my best not to give anything away, she knew right away that something was wrong. “What’s wrong, Lizzie? Did they find something?”
“Well…errr…it’s not my place to say, Iris,” I stammered. “I’m sure the police will talk to Gladys about anything they find during their search.”
“Would you like something to drink, Gladys?” Iris said, suddenly standing up. “It’s such a warm day; I think we could all use something cool to drink. Why don’t you come help me, Lizzie?” She gave me a look that told me I should just do it, no questions asked.
I followed her into the kitchen, and she took some glasses down from a cabinet near the fridge. “Spill it,” she whispered to me. “What’s going on?”
Looking over my shoulder to make sure that Gladys couldn’t hear us, I said, “It doesn’t look good for her, Iris.” I quickly told her what had happened. “Even T.J. admitted it looks bad. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but if you know a good lawyer, I would call him.”
Iris looked shocked. “You really think it’s that bad?”
“Yeah, I do. Do you think she would feel up to answering a couple of questions?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. You can try.”
She handed me a Dr Pepper from the fridge, and poured some tea in the other two glasses. We carried them back into the living room, and Iris handed a glass to Gladys while I sat back down next to her. “Would you mind answering a question for me, Gladys?”
“About what?” she eyed me warily.
“About the rhubarb on the table in your backyard.”
“What rhubarb? There’s no rhubarb back there. Harold hates the stuff, and I’m not too fond of it, either. If I need some, I just buy it at the store.”
“When was the last time you bought any?”
She took a drink of her tea. “Let me see, I believe it was last year for the ladies’ church group luncheon. Someone requested two rhubarb pies, so I pulled out Momma’s old recipe and made them.”
“None since then?”
“Definitely not,” Gladys replied. “I may be getting old, but I’m not a blithering idiot, Elizabeth Crenshaw.”
I took a drink
Gratefully, I let her take half of the large albums. “How’s she doing?”
Iris shook her head. “She’s fluctuating between denial and grief. I’m going to have to buy more tissues soon; she’s already gone through three boxes, bless her heart.”
“Mom says you were all childhood friends,” I said.
“That’s true,” Iris confirmed. “Our families were all good friends, so it was natural that the three of us became good friends as well. Goodness, these things are heavy!”
I followed her into the house. Iris put the albums on the coffee table in front of the couch, which is where Gladys was sitting. “Hello, Gladys,” I said, sitting next to her on the couch. “I hope I brought the albums you wanted. They were the only ones we found in the master bedroom.”
“These are the ones I wanted. Thank you, dear,” she said absentmindedly, patting my left hand. I looked at Iris, who shrugged.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Are the police through searching the house yet?”
I hesitated, unsure of what I should say. “Um, no, not yet. They were still there when I left.”
“I don’t know why Owen and that deputy of his are even bothering. They aren’t going to find anything,” she said, squeezing my hand as she got more upset. I used my free hand to remove her fingernails from my trapped hand.
“Of course they won’t,” Iris reassured her. She looked at me, and even though I did my best not to give anything away, she knew right away that something was wrong. “What’s wrong, Lizzie? Did they find something?”
“Well…errr…it’s not my place to say, Iris,” I stammered. “I’m sure the police will talk to Gladys about anything they find during their search.”
“Would you like something to drink, Gladys?” Iris said, suddenly standing up. “It’s such a warm day; I think we could all use something cool to drink. Why don’t you come help me, Lizzie?” She gave me a look that told me I should just do it, no questions asked.
I followed her into the kitchen, and she took some glasses down from a cabinet near the fridge. “Spill it,” she whispered to me. “What’s going on?”
Looking over my shoulder to make sure that Gladys couldn’t hear us, I said, “It doesn’t look good for her, Iris.” I quickly told her what had happened. “Even T.J. admitted it looks bad. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but if you know a good lawyer, I would call him.”
Iris looked shocked. “You really think it’s that bad?”
“Yeah, I do. Do you think she would feel up to answering a couple of questions?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. You can try.”
She handed me a Dr Pepper from the fridge, and poured some tea in the other two glasses. We carried them back into the living room, and Iris handed a glass to Gladys while I sat back down next to her. “Would you mind answering a question for me, Gladys?”
“About what?” she eyed me warily.
“About the rhubarb on the table in your backyard.”
“What rhubarb? There’s no rhubarb back there. Harold hates the stuff, and I’m not too fond of it, either. If I need some, I just buy it at the store.”
“When was the last time you bought any?”
She took a drink of her tea. “Let me see, I believe it was last year for the ladies’ church group luncheon. Someone requested two rhubarb pies, so I pulled out Momma’s old recipe and made them.”
“None since then?”
“Definitely not,” Gladys replied. “I may be getting old, but I’m not a blithering idiot, Elizabeth Crenshaw.”
I took a drink
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