She turned her head to look at the picture, as if she’d forgotten it was there. “He was a good man,” she said softly. “He was just nuts about the kids, of course. He’d had pneumonia, one of those strains that’s resistant to antibiotics, so he’d been in the hospital in Little Rock. He’d had a little heart trouble, but the doctors kept telling us it wasn’t much, not to worry. They were going to do more about it when he got over the pneumonia, you see. But one afternoon, while he was recuperating, he was in his study with all the medical records from the past year. He wasn’t satisfied with our insurance, or he thought that they should have paid more on his doctor bill, or something. I don’t even remember now. But it had been a big year medically, you have those sometimes, I guess. Mary Nell had had a tonsillectomy, and Dell was the passenger in a car that had a little accident. The driver had a broken leg, and Dell had a little knock on the head and some stitches. Bloody, but really after it was cleaned up, he wasn’t hurt too badly. And I’d had high cholesterol. So Dick had this pile of papers he was going through, and sometime in the afternoon he just . . . passed. When I went in to get him for supper, he had his head on the desk.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. Sybil had had a lot to bear in her life, and I had to respect that, no matter how cold I found her.

“I’m curious, Sybil,” my brother said, sounding as if going from one subject to another was simply logical. Sybil blinked and refocused on Tolliver. “Why didn’t you ask Harper to come to Sarne earlier?”

“I’m sorry?” Sybil’s attractive face was blank.

“Why didn’t you ask Harper right after Teenie went missing?”

“I . . . well, I . . . of course, at first I was shocked by my son’s death, and I just couldn’t think about Teenie. Frankly, I just . . . didn’t care, in the face of my own loss.” Sybil gave us a noble face, telling us she was ashamed of that, but so what?

“Of course,” I said. “Of course.” This was just noise, to get her to continue.