“Oh, sure. It’s about gone. Yesterday I was red from the neck up, though. That Thomas Benson fellow said I looked like I’d been snakebit.”

“So he was a snake handler.”

“I guess so. I didn’t get into it with him.”

“Do you think he might be here today? Maybe we could talk to him some more.”

Luke shook his head. “He comes in three times a week, he said. He’ll probably be back tomorrow or the next day.”

An orderly came in with a wheelchair. While he was taking Luke to the car, I stopped by the nurses’ station and asked about his allergic reaction. He’d be fine, they assured me. I hoped they knew what they were talking about.

“Aren’t we going up on the mountain?” Luke asked as I turned onto the Birmingham highway.

“We’re coming back tomorrow, all four of us. You, me, Richard, and Mary Alice. I think I can get a key for the house and we can look around in there and in the church, too. Maybe the woman who has the key can tell us some people to talk to, too.”

“They’ll all be gone to West Virginia.”

“Surely not all of them.”

Luke sighed. He was sitting very straight and holding the plastic bag in his lap. Which I was grateful for.

“Richard told me all that happened to the Crawford guy. God, I can’t believe it.”

“It was awful,” I agreed.

“And in Virginia’s car. Can you believe it?”

I couldn’t.

“Well, at least it’s got a leather interior.”

“Lucky.”

It was a beautiful day and Luke didn’t seem to be turning paler or green.

“Does your head still hurt?” I asked him.

“Only if I move.”

“Well, I’m going to take you to Mary Alice’s and get you settled. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“You’re welcome to come to my house, but Richard’s staying with her and they’re expecting you up there.”

“Fine.”

“She’s got all the room in the world, you know.” I didn’t know why I was babbling. “But you’re welcome to come to my house.”

“Mary Alice’s is fine.”

I slowed down behind a pickup truck with a Confederate flag decal across the back window.

“This lady who probably has the key is the girl we found in the church’s sister. Looks just like her. She told me she was sure Virginia was all right, that Holden Crawford was a kind man.”

“Good.” Luke clutched the plastic bag and gazed out at the mountains and valleys that we were moving through slowly because of Mr. Confederate in front of us and a curvy road that made passing impossible.