“That’s a common thing with mothers,” I said. My own mother had forgotten how old I was, after she’d started chasing the drugs with alcohol. She’d decided I was much older and needed a boyfriend. She picked a doping buddy of hers who was willing to give her free samples for the privilege of being my first “date.” Tolliver had gone off to college by then, and I’d had to spend a day locked in my room. I had known that eventually they’d go to sleep and I’d be able to get out of the house, but I was hungry and thirsty and had no access to a bathroom. After that, I kept bottled water and a box of crackers and an old cooking pot in my room.

“Have you lived in Sarne all your life?” Tolliver asked Mary Nell.

She flushed when he spoke directly to her. “Yes,” she said. “My dad’s parents were born here, too. Dad died just before Dell.” I was startled. When Edwards had told me Sybil was a recent widow, I hadn’t realized how recent. “Dell, he really missed Dad. . . . He was closer to Dad than me.” She sounded vaguely resentful.

“I want to ask you a question, Mary Nell,” I said. “I don’t want to upset you any more than I have to, but when you were talking to us the other night, you paused after you said one sentence. You said something like, ‘I knew he wouldn’t kill Teenie and . . .’ and then you stopped. What were you going to say?”

Mary Nell eyed me. You could tell her feelings were conflicted. “Please tell us, Nell,” Tolliver said, and she crumbled when she looked into his dark brown eyes. He’d called her something special.

“Okay,” she said, leaning across the table to share her big secret. “Dell told me, the week before he and Teenie . . . the week before they died, that Teenie was gonna have a baby.” Her heavily made-up eyes were as big and round as a raccoon’s. The girl was clearly shocked that her brother had been having sex with his girlfriend, and she just as clearly considered the pregnancy top-secret knowledge.

“No one knew?”

“He sure didn’t tell my mom. She would’ve killed him.” Then, as she realized what she’d said, Mary Nell turned red as a brick, and tears filled her eyes.

“That’s okay,” I said hastily, “we know your mom wouldn’t really do that.”

“Well, Mom never has liked Teenie’s mom too much. I don’t know why. Miss Helen used to work for us a few years ago, and I thought she was great. Always singing.”

And I could tell that she suddenly remembered that Helen Hopkins had been murdered, too. There was a look on her face, a lost look, like she was drowning.