tongue. “Saw all these cars turn in while I was heading home and thought I’d see what was doing.”
Caroline gave her a blank look. It was odd, almost obscene, to see someone so vivid and pulsing with life when death was still hovering. “I beg your pardon?”
“No need for that, honey.” Still smiling, Josie walked up the steps. “I’m just nosy, that’s all. Can’t stand for something to be going on and not know about it. Josie Longstreet.” She held out a hand still a bit sticky from the melted ice.
“Caroline. Caroline Waverly.” After she’d shaken hands, Caroline thought how innate manners were, how absurdly automatic.
“You got trouble here, Caroline?” Josie set the sticks on the porch rail. “I see Burke’s car. Gorgeous, isn’t he? Hasn’t cheated on his wife, not even once in better than seventeen years. Never seen anyone take marriage so damn serious. But there you go. Doc Shays, too.” She glanced back at the crowded lane. “Now,
he’s
a character. That shoe-black hair all puffed up and slicked back like a fifties rock and roll singer? Sounds a little like Mickey Mouse, don’t you think?”
Caroline nearly smiled. “Yes. I’m sorry, would you like to sit down?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Josie took a cigarette out of her purse. She lighted it with a gold butane. “You got all these visitors, but I don’t see a soul.”
“They’re …” She looked toward the trees. She swallowed hard. “The sheriff’s coming now.”
Josie shifted position subtly, turning her body slightly, lifting her shoulders. The sassy smile she offered Burke faded when she saw his eyes. Still, her voice was bright. “Why, Burke, I’m jealous. You hardly ever come to pay calls on us at Sweetwater, and here you are.”
“Official business, Josie.”
“Well, well.”
“Miss Waverly, I need to speak to you. Could we go inside?”
“Of course.”
As he started by, Josie took his arm. The teasing had gone out of her face. “Burke?”
“I can’t talk to you now.” He knew he should tell her to leave, but he thought Caroline might want another female around when he’d finished with her. “Can you wait? Maybe stay with her awhile?”
The hand on his arm trembled. “How bad is it?”
“As bad as it gets. Why don’t you go in the kitchen, fix us something cold? I’d be obliged if you’d stay in there until I call you.”
Caroline settled him in the front parlor, on the striped divan. The little cuckoo clock that she had wound faithfully since her arrival tick-tocked cheerfully. She could smell the polish she’d used on the coffee table just that morning, and her own sweat.
“Miss Waverly, I’m awfully sorry to have to ask you questions now, when you must be upset. But it’s best to get to all this quickly.”
“I understand.” How could she understand, she thought frantically. She’d never found a body before. “Do you know … do you know who she is?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The deputy—Johnson?” Her hand was up at herthroat, rubbing up and down as if she could stroke the words free. “He said she didn’t drown.”
“No, ma’am.” Burke took a notebook and pencil from his pocket. “I’m sorry. I have to tell you she was murdered.”
She only nodded. She wasn’t shocked. A part of her had known it from the moment she had looked into the wide, sightless eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to tell me anything you saw, anything you heard in the last forty-eight hours.”
“But there’s nothing, really. I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve been trying to—to settle, to put things in order.”
“I understand that.” He tipped his hat back on his head, used his forearm to dab at sweat on his brow. “Maybe you could think back. You didn’t maybe hear a car pull into your lane at night, or anything that didn’t sound quite right to you?”
“No … that is, I’m used to city noises, so nothing really sounds right to me.” She dragged