Grave Sight by Charlaine Harris Page A

sober now for thirty-two months,” Helen Hopkins said, gesturing to us to take the two armchairs squeezed together opposite the sofa, where she perched on the edge of a cushion.
    â€œCongratulations, I’m glad to hear it,” I said.
    â€œIf you’ve been in this town for more than ten minutes, someone will have told you something bad about me. I drank and fornicated for many years. But I’m sober now, by the grace of God and some damn hard work.”
    Tolliver nodded, to show we were registering her words.
    â€œBoth my girls are dead,” Helen Hopkins continued. Her voice was absolutely steady and harsh, but the muscles in her jaw were taut with agony. “I ain’t had a husband in years. No one here to help me but me, myself, and I. I want to know who brought you here, and what you are, and what you done out in the woods to find my girl. I didn’t know anything about this till yesterday, when Hollis called me.”
    You couldn’t get more straightforward than that. Tolliver and I looked at each other, asking a silent question. This woman was a lot like our mother—well, my mother, Tolliver’s stepmother—except my mother had gone to law school, and she’d never gotten sober. Tolliver gave a shrug that couldn’t have been seen by anyone but me, and I returned an infinitesimal nod.
    â€œI find bodies, Mrs. Hopkins. I got hit by lightning when I was a girl, and that’s what happened to me afterward. I found out I just knew when I came close to a dead person. And I knew what had killed that person—though not who, if the person was murdered.” I wanted to be real clear about that. “What I know is how the person died.”
    â€œSybil Teague hired you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow’d she know about you?”
    â€œI believe through Terry Vale.”
    â€œAre you always right?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œYou think the Lord likes what you’re doing?”
    â€œI wonder about it all the time,” I said.
    â€œSo, Sybil asked you to come here and find Monteen. She say why?”
    â€œThe sheriff told me that everyone was thinking her son had killed Teenie, and she wanted to find Teenie’s body to disprove that.”
    â€œAnd you found Teenie.”
    â€œYes, that’s what Sheriff Branscom told me. I’m sorry for your loss.”
    â€œI knew she was dead,” Helen said, eyes dry. “I been knowing since she vanished, that Teenie had passed over.”
    â€œHow?” If she could be blunt, I could, too.
    â€œShe would’ve come home, otherwise.”
    According to Hollis, Teenie had been as out of control as her mother at one time. I doubted Helen Hopkins was speaking realistically. Her next words echoed my doubts so closely that I wondered if the woman was psychic.
    â€œShe’d been a wild girl,” Helen Hopkins said slowly, “acting out because she could get away with it, because I was a drunk. But when I sobered up, she began to come around, too.”
    She gave me a wisp of a smile, and I tried to smile back. This dried-out husk of a woman had once had a jaunty charm not too many years ago. You could see the traces of it in her face and posture.
    â€œI liked Dell Teague just fine,” Helen said. Her voice was slow, as if she was thinking out what she was saying very carefully. “I didn’t ever think that he’d killed my girl. I liked him, and I think Sybil’s okay. But the kids wanted to get married, and I didn’t want Teenie to marry early, the way Sally did. Not that Sally made a bad marriage. Hollis is a fine man, and I don’t blame him for not caring for me none. He had enough reasons. But Teenie . . . she didn’t need to be getting so tight with Dell Teague, so young. Ijust wanted Teenie to have some choices. It was good of Sybil to pay you to look for my girl, though. . . .”
    â€œHollis tell you we went