“I’m Patricia Anne Hollowell, Terry,” I said, “and my sister’s right. We’re not sure what we’re looking for. Something that will tell us what might have happened to our cousin.”

I glanced out of the window. There were several more cars and pickups parked between the house and church than there had been just a few minutes earlier.

Terry followed my glance.

“They’re gathering,” he said.

“They?”

“The handlers. They’ll all be here for Monk’s funeral. Far away as West Virginia.”

Sister had joined us. “Will they have snakes?”

Terry shrugged. “It’s winter. I don’t know.”

There was a knock on the door and we all jumped. Richard stuck his head inside.

“Just checking. Sorry we’re late, but Daddy got sick a couple of times on the way up here. Had to stop at a Grub-mart for some Pepto-Bismol.”

He turned and called, “They’re here okay, Daddy. Come on in.”

“Dear Jesus,” Mary Alice said. “Maybe he ought to wait out in the car.”

“Too cold.” Richard went to help his father.

Mary Alice turned to me. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Damned if I knew.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter
Fourteen

An hour later, the four of us, Richard, Luke, Mary Alice, and I, were back in the living room with nothing to show for our search. Terry Mahall had left right after Richard and Luke had arrived. But before he left, he had called Betsy to ask if she knew how to get messages from Monk’s telephone. She didn’t know, but said she would try to find out. So far we hadn’t heard from her.

Luke was lying on the sofa, Sister and I were sitting in the chairs, and Richard was standing by the fireplace looking at the pictures on the mantel. Outside, several more cars had come up, and we could hear people greeting each other. Richard had gone over earlier, introduced himself, and explained that we were looking for his mother. None of them said they had met her or knew anything about her. He had come back to report that they were decorating the church with pine boughs and little lights as if it were Christmas. And no, he answered Sister’s question, he hadn’t seen any snakes.

“We might as well go,” he said, turning from the mantel. Tears suddenly filled his eyes. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

None of us answered.

Richard walked over to the sofa and stared down at Luke. “What the hell did you do to her, Daddy?”

Luke sat up. “What do you mean, what the hell did I do to her? Fed her and put a house over her head for forty years, is what I did to her.”

“Well, that answers that,” Richard said. “No wonder she left.”

“Hey, y’all, this is tacky.” Mary Alice stood up. “Come on. Richard’s right. It’s time to go.”