Sue Beth didn’t respond. But Decker could see her eyes fill with moisture. The woman had an “ain’t life a bitch” face. Weathered skin, green eyes as hard as jade. Her cheeks were high-boned, sharp and pale, her hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail. Only her lips gave her visage a hint of softness—full and blood red. Perhaps they were the only part of her face that had ever known any tenderness. Decker said, “We have all the papers necessary for Katie’s release—”

“When can I see her?” Sue Beth interrupted. Her voice was husky, strong.

“In a moment,” Marge said. “After we’ve asked you a couple of questions.”

“Here?” Sue Beth asked.

“Would you prefer to sit in the car?” Marge asked.

“Can’t this be done another time?” Sue Beth protested.

Decker shook his head, then said, “I’ll go check on Katie. Make sure everything is in order.” He patted Sue Beth on the back. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

After Decker left, Marge said, “Again, I’m very sorry, Mrs. Litton. You’ve suffered a terrible tragedy.”

Sue Beth said nothing, and Marge assayed the situation. Everyone had to be approached differently. Many grieving women reached out at a time like this. But this one was retreating, and Marge had to figure out how to reel her in. First, Marge tried empathy, how unreal this must feel. Then she expressed sympathy again, how sorry she was for the loss. But Sue Beth remained stoic and silent.

Then let’s get down to business, Marge thought.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, Mrs. Litton,” she said. “Some of the questions might seem odd, some personal, some like I’m trying to insinuate something. Believe me, I’m not. I’m just trying to get a total picture so we can solve this as quickly as possible.”

“Go ahead,” Sue Beth said. “Quicker you ask, the quicker I can get Katie and go home…or what’s left of it…. Oh God, this is a real nightmare.”

Marge agreed with her. Slipping out her notebook, she asked Sue Beth to go over the trip to Fall Springs. The woman spoke in a monotone as she recounted the past week. Four days ago, she, her husband, B.B., and their kids left for the Annual Western Beekeepers Association Convention at about eleven in the morning. Luke wasn’t home when they left, but Carly and Linda were, and she said good-bye to them and everything seemed normal.

“Where were your parents?” Marge asked.

“Pappy and Granny were giving Carly and Linda last-minute instructions on how to take care of Earl. They were going to leave Earl at home for the first time in ages—Luke volunteered to watch after him. But at the last minute, they must have changed their minds and brought Earl along.”

“Why do you think they changed their minds?” Marge asked.