“That’s right,” Sister said. “Penny. I couldn’t remember which brand it was. Do you suppose it cost a penny when it first came out?”

Neither Albert Lee nor I answered.

We rode in silence for a few minutes. Then Sister said, “Oh, you’re going up Highway 11. One of my husbands used to own some property up here. I should have held on to it. It’s probably worth a fortune now. You know, sometimes I wish I’d buried them up here at Jefferson Memorial Gardens. Look how nice it looks without tombstones.”

I swear you’d think we were going for a casual drive in the country.

“Albert Lee,” I said. “I think I know why you killed Susan, but will you tell me why you killed Monk Crawford?”

He looked startled. “I didn’t kill Monk. Hell, that brother-in-law of his did him in. Hated him.”

“Because of the snakes?”

“Because Monk was giving the snakes up. You don’t do that, not on Chandler Mountain. Not without paying for it.” He wiped his forehead again. “Especially if you’d been the leader.”

“Could Susan have left the group?”

“Probably. They’re not so rigid with the women. They don’t think they’re important.” He sighed. “But she didn’t want to.”

“Is that why you killed her? Because she wouldn’t give up the snake handling?” I asked.

“Not that it’s a damn bit of your business, but I loved her. I wanted to marry her and she laughed. It was simple as that. Then I took her to Mama.”

“And you put her in the church.”

“It was where she would have wanted to be. I couldn’t do anything else for her.” Tears were coursing down his face now. “I’d always loved her. I always will.”

“Oh, look,” Sister said. “We’re in Trussville. I love the barbecue place here, don’t you, Albert Lee?”

Albert Lee turned around. “Shut up.”

There was another silence of about fifteen minutes before I brought up the subject of Susan Crawford again.

“Albert Lee, you were in the church, weren’t you, when our cousin went in.”

He nodded. “Brushing Susan’s hair. Did you see that hair? A Rossetti painting.”

“What did you do?”

“Ducked behind a pew. Mama saw him coming in. She hit him so I could get out.”

And now we were going to die because Luke had walked into a church. Pukey Lukey was going to be the death of us.

“You’re going to get on the interstate in Springville, aren’t you?” Sister asked.

Hadn’t she been paying any attention to what we were talking about? I was trying to figure out some kind of strategy here and she was doing a travelogue. The woman was nuts.