Unbreathed Memories by Marcia Talley Page B

looking normal and holding a cold bottle of beer. Coffee and beer. Uppers and downers for the masses. Daddy perched on the arm of the sofa and took a long drink, then turned his attention to the TV. But now the reporter had moved on to describe a fire that was burning out of control in a warehouse near Fells Point. Daddy grunted.
    “They didn’t mention anything about Georgina, Daddy.”
    He set his beer down on top of the Capital . I watched as the moisture from the bottle slowly soaked into the newspaper. “That little girl doesn’t have her head screwed on straight, but there’s no way in hell she could have killed anybody. What can the police be thinking?”
    They’re thinking they don’t like to be lied to . I didn’t tell Daddy about that. I couldn’t predict how he’d take the news that I ratted on Georgina. If he found out about it later, it wouldn’t be from me.
    Leaving the TV playing on low volume, I helped Dad unpack books, fighting the old librarian’s urge to put them in alphabetical order by author and title. Size is good. So is color. I rearranged a shelf so all the blue bindings were together, then ended the row with a two-volume set of yellow-bound essays. The complete works of Patrick O’Brian, my father’s favorite novelist, went on the next shelf down. I left him to check on the children from time to time, finding them happily eating popcorn and watching The Lion King for the umpteenth time.
    When the doorbell rang, I was thumbing through an ancient paperback copy of Thunderball . I rushed to the door, thinking it might be Dennis, but the officer with her index finger on the button wasn’t Dennis. She was Sergeant Williams, with her partner, Detective Duvall. It didn’t compute. What the hell were they doing here in Annapolis?
    Suddenly I panicked. “Where’s my sister? Has something happened to Georgina?”
    Officer Williams didn’t answer. “May we come in, Mrs. Ives?”
    I stood in the doorway like a stone fool, one hand grasping the doorknob, the other balled into a tight fist.My heart was pounding. Something must be wrong with Georgina! I took a ragged breath. “Not until you tell me why you’re here.”
    Officer Williams shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then ran her short, stubby fingers through her light brown hair. “There’s no need to worry. Your sister’s fine, under the circumstances. We sent her home with her husband over an hour ago.”
    An hour ago? I couldn’t believe Scott hadn’t called. What a selfish clod!
    I continued to block the door. “Then why are you here?”
    “We’d like to talk to your father.”
    Daddy appeared suddenly at my shoulder. “What about?” The deep, confident voice that had caused many a young sailor to quake in his deck shoes had no perceivable effect on this lady. She didn’t even blink.
    “Is there someplace we can go where we won’t be interrupted?”
    That was odd. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they’d come to talk to me after everything I’d blabbed to Officer Williams. But Daddy? What could they want with him? I glanced quickly at my father, hoping for a clue. He looked bewildered and didn’t answer right away, so I blurted out, “We can go to the kitchen, I suppose.” I tugged on his arm.
    My father led the officers down the hall with me following close behind. Once in the kitchen, Daddy leaned against the dishwasher and waved the officers toward the table. “Have a seat.”
    Officer Duvall turned to me and drawled, “We’d like to speak to your father alone.”
    “Daddy?”
    He frowned, deepening the natural crease that separated his eyebrows. “I’d rather she stayed.”
    Officer Duvall shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
    “I’ve nothing to hide.”
    Officer Duvall settled his ample behind into a chair that groaned alarmingly under his weight. I wondered if the chair had been screwed back together securely after being disassembled for the move. He pulled a small notebook from his