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Back Bare Bones Save as PDF
Chapters (37)
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  37. About the Author

“Number one, several witnesses have stated that your sister was pregnant. Two, the bones were found in a stove atherresidence. And three, she and Tyree have disappeared.”

“Could be someone else’s baby.”

“And I could be Mother Teresa, but I ain’t.”

Genevaturned back to me.

“What about that DNA stuff?”

“The fragments were too few and too badly burned for DNA testing.”

Genevashowed no reaction.

“Do you know where your sister has gone, Miss Banks?”Slidel ’s tone was growing sharper.

“No.”

“Is there anything youcantel us?” I asked.

“Just one thing.”

Genevalooked from her father to me toSlidel . White woman. White cop. Bad choices.

Deciding the woman might be safer, she launched her bombshel in my direction.

3

ASSLIDELL DROVE BACK TO MY CAR, ITRIED TO QUELL MYemotions, to remember that I was a professional.

I felt sadness for Tamela and her baby. Annoyance atSlidel ’s cal ous treatment of the Banks family. Anxiety over al I had to accomplish in the next two days.

I’d promised to spend Saturday with Katy, had company arriving on Sunday. Monday I was leaving on the first nonfamily vacation I’d al owed myself in years.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my annual family trek to the beach. My sister, Harry, and my nephew Kit fly up from Houston, and al my estranged husband’s Latvian relatives head east fromChicago . If no litigation is in process, Pete joins us for a few days. We rent a twelve-bedroom house near Nags Head, or Wilmington, or Charleston, or Beaufort, ride bikes, lie on the beach, watchWhat About Bob?,read novels, and reestablish extended-kin bonds. Beach week is a time of relaxed togetherness that is cherished by al .

This trip was going to be different.

Very different.

Again and again, I ran a mental checklist.

Reports. Laundry. Groceries. Cleaning. Packing. Birdie to Pete.

Sidebar. I hadn’t heard from Pete in over a week. That was odd. Though we’d lived apart for several years, I usual y saw or heard from him regularly. Our daughter, Katy. His dog, Boyd. My cat, Birdie. HisIl inois relatives. MyTexas andCarolina relatives. Some common link usual y threw us together every few days. Besides, I liked Pete, stil enjoyed his company. I just couldn’t be married to him.

I made a note to ask Katy if her dad had gone out of town. Or fal en in love.

Love.

Back to the list.

Hot waxing?

Oh, boy.

I added an item. Guest room sheets.

I’d never get it al done.

By the timeSlidel dropped me in the ME parking lot, tension was hardening my neck muscles and sending tentacles of pain up the back of my head.

The heat that had built up in my Mazda didn’t help. Nor did the uptown traffic.

Or was it downtown? Charlotteans have yet to agree on which way their city is turned.