“That was a nice thing to do. I always bring flowers, too. I think I come here hoping to find answers. When you say it out loud like that, it sounds silly, too. It’s peaceful here, no televisions, no ringing phones. Just the quiet. I guess you could say it’s the end of the road. I bet no one visits half of these graves. There’s never anyone here when I come. I was shocked to see you. By the way, my name is Jill.”

“Hello, Jill,” Cady said, extending her hand. “I’m Cady Jordan.”

Jill laughed. “You look better in person than that picture in the morning paper. Ah, now I see why you’re here. You came to the boy’s grave site.”

“Yes. I don’t know what I expected. I don’t understand why I don’t feel something. I guess you know the story then. Did we ever meet? Did we go to school together?”

“No, we never met. I was born and raised in Pittsburgh. I moved here shortly after my parents moved here. I got married, then my dad died suddenly. It was a bad time. I know the story, though, because I married Andy Hollister.”

Cady blinked in surprise. “No kidding. How is Andy these days? I saw him the other day, and we waved in passing. He was on his way to Amy’s house.” Wait till she told all of this to Lola, Mandy, and Anthony.

“Andy and I hit a bit of a rough patch recently. He moved out and stayed with Amy for a day or so, then got an apartment of his own. We’re going to try and work at it to see if we can’t make things right. At least I’m hoping we can work at it. I’m willing but Andy…Andy…”

“…Andy allows other people to run his life. When we were kids, Amy called the shots. We always did what Amy wanted when she wanted it. I guess some things never change.” Cady sighed. “I hope you work things out. Don’t give up would be my advice.”

“I could always talk to my dad and tell him things. He’d think about it, and somehow or other, he always came up with just the right answer. I was talking to him before, but of course there were no ready-made answers. I’m going to have to work this out myself. You look to me like you’re trying to work something out yourself.”

“I am. I’m trying to remember what happened that day.”

“Listen, I don’t have anything to do. Let’s you and I go to breakfast. My treat. We can talk about our hairdos, the latest fashions, those dumb TV shows, or we can sit and eat our breakfast. You can tell me all about the movie they’re going to make, and I can tell you what a miserable bitch Amy Chambers is. What do you say?”

“I say that’s a great idea. Let’s go Dutch, though.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you at Eva’s. She makes the best potato, cheese, onion casserole in the state, and her bacon is to die for. The eggs aren’t bad either. She grinds her own blend of coffee, too.”