“Helen’s husband. Sally’s father. He’s coming back for the funeral. He may have been divorced from Helen, but I guess he inherits the house now. He called me this morning.”

“Where is he staying?” I wondered if he would have a few words with us.

“He’s at the motel where ya’ll are at. But don’t expect to get much sense out of him. Helen may have quit drinking, but Jay ain’t. She had to take out a restraining order on him, I guess a year or two after Sally was born. Jay used to be a nice-looking man, and he had sweet folks, but he ain’t worth a tinker’s damn.”

“We’ve had experience in dealing with drunks,” I said.

“Oh, like that, huh?” She looked at me, with level eyes. “I thought I seen the mark on you.”

“The mark?”

“Kids raised by drunks. They all got the same mark. I can see it. Not everyone can.”

I was certainly not the only person walking this earth possessed of a weird little talent.

Tolliver and I rose to our feet, and Annie wiggled forward on her chair to rise with us. I looked around the small house, and I noticed she had good locks on the doors. And it was obvious a drove of friends and family came in and out all the time. The phone had rung twice while we were there, and she’d let her answering machine take the call. Annie seemed fairly well protected.

“If I were you,” I said, very carefully, “I’d go to Little Rock for a couple of days to go shopping, or something like that.”

“Are you threatening me?” she said right back at me.

“No ma’am, I am not. I liked Helen, the little I knew of her. And I saw her after she died. I don’t want you to be as scared as she was.”

“Sounds to me like you are threatening me,” Annie Gibson said. Her jaw hardened, and she looked like a very determined pug.

“I swear I am not,” I said, as earnestly as I could. “I’m just worried about you.” She wasn’t going to listen to a word I said, so I might as well save my breath. From now on, anything Tolliver and I told her would go straight to feed her conviction that we meant her ill.

“You all need to go to the gospel singing tonight, get some good thoughts in your head,” she concluded, shutting the door behind us.

“I thought Helen was a tough nut to crack,” I muttered. “I just hadn’t met Annie Gibson.”