Verdict in Blood by Gail Bowen

moment of connection for us.
    Eli seemed to feel the closeness too. “Thanks for bringing the school stuff by,” he said.
    “It’s a good school, Eli. You could be happy there.”
    For a moment he was silent. Then he said, “Do they know about me being in the hospital?”
    “Your teacher does,” I said. “She seems pretty decent. She said to tell you you’re not the only person who’s ever needed time to work things out.”
    “You mean this has happened to other kids in that class?”
    “I don’t know about the other kids,” I said, “but I have a feeling Ms. Greyeyes has had some problems in her life. She asked me to give you a message.”
    His look mingled hostility and hope. “She doesn’t even know me.”
    “Maybe not,” I said, “but she says she understands what you’re going through because she’s been there.”
    “And she’s all right now?” he asked. The question was barely a whisper, but I could hear the yearning.
    “She’s fine,” I said. “And you’re going to be fine, too. A lot of people care about you, Eli.”
    Riding down in the elevator, Taylor was quiet. As we walked towards the parking lot, she said, “When’s he getting out?”
    “Soon, I hope,” I said. “But I don’t know.”
    “I’m almost finished that painting of us watching the dragon boats.”
    “Good.”
    “Do you think Eli would like it as a present?”
    I smiled at her. “I know he would,” I said.
    When we got home, the dishes were done, the kitchen was shining, and the table was set for breakfast. I pointed Taylor towards bed, stuck my head into the family room where Angus was listening to a CD , and went out to the backyard. Hilda was sitting on the deck with a gin and tonic.
    She raised her glass when she saw me. “I bought a bottle of Beefeater this afternoon. Will you join me?”
    “Absolutely,” I said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink gin before.”
    “It’s been a gin kind of day,” Hilda said.
    I poured myself a drink and went back outside. It was a beautiful night. The air smelled of charcoal and heat, and from the park across the way we could hear the sounds of an early-evening ball game. I sipped my drink. “The house looks wonderful,” I said. “I love it when you stay with us. Everything seems to run so smoothly.”
    “I don’t do much myself, you know. Your children are very cheerful about pitching in.”
    “Only when you’re here,” I said. “The rest of the time, they pitch in, but I wouldn’t characterize their attitude as cheerful.” I smiled at her. “You’re kind of like Mary Poppins.”
    Hilda winced.
    “You don’t like the comparison?” I said.
    “Not much,” she said. “But I am relieved to hear that you welcome my presence, because I’m going to ask if I can stay a few days longer.”
    “You can stay as long as you want to,” I said. “You know that. Has something come up?”
    She sighed wearily. “This business with Justine,” she said. “I can’t seem to extricate myself from it.”
    “Do you want out?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I went to see Eric Fedoruk this morning. My intention was to tell him that, after giving the matter some thought, I’d concluded my responsibility to Justine Blackwell was discharged.”
    “That’s an about-face, isn’t it?”
    Hilda turned towards me. “It is, but there are times when reversal is the only sensible course. Joanne, I went to Eric Fedoruk’s because it seemed that my commitment to Justine was a problem for you.”
    “Hilda, you could never be …”
    She made a gesture of dismissal. “I know what you’re about to say, but I saw your face last night when I told you a TV crew had interviewed me at your house, and I saw you change your plans this morning when Wayne J. Waters turned up on your doorstep. This business with Justine has simply become too much of a burden on you, and that’s what I intended to tell Eric Fedoruk.”
    “You were going to step aside?”
    “I