My parents had eloped. I'd seen a copy of their marriage license dated November 18, 1935. My grandmother had been horrified. She'd had her heart set on Rita Cynthia's marrying someone she considered worthy of her firstborn daughter. Instead, my mother had fallen in love with a common mail-carrier, who was moonlighting as a waiter on the day of her debut. There was apparently no Thanksgiving that year. And precious little in the way of celebrations since.

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Saturday morning after breakfast, Stacey and I drove to the McPhees'. The day was clear and sunny. The wind had died down and the desert stretched out in a haze of beige and mauve. Cactus, mesquite, and creosote bushes grew at neatly spaced intervals, as though planted by an arborist. Out there, unseen, the bobcats, foxes, owls, hawks, and coyotes were feeding on the smaller vertebrates. I'd read that jackrabbits constitute half the diet of breeding coyotes, so that when hard times reduce the rabbit population, the coyote population shrinks, as well, thus maintaining the balance in Nature's culinary scheme. We paused briefly on the street and I pointed across the pasture to the shed where we'd found the Mustang. Stacey said, "I wonder why he got himself in such a lather when the car was impounded?"

"Territorial, I guess. You'd do the same in his place."

"I'm not so sure about that. Sounds like a man who knows more than he's letting on."

"Maybe he's just another cranky old geezer, used to having his way."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Stace, I wasn't talking about you."

I rang the bell and the two of us stood on the porch, waiting for someone to respond. From the backyard, I could hear children giggling and shrieking while a dog barked.

When Edna finally opened the door, she seemed somewhat taken aback. "Oh. I didn't expect to see you here again," she said. She averted her gaze politely from Stacey's patchy head.

"Hi, Edna. How are you? This is Detective Oliphant from the Santa Teresa Sheriffs Department. Have we caught you at a bad time?"

"I have my Baptist Church Auxilliary Committee here and we're busy." I held out the quilt. "We won't take long. I wanted to return your quilt."

She took it, murmuring "Thank you," and then moved to shut the door. I put a restraining hand on the frame. "We were hoping to see Ruel.

"s he here?"

"He's in the garage."

"Mind if we talk to him?"

With a tiny flicker of irritation, she gave in. "You might as well come through the house and I'll send you out the back. It's quicker than going all the way around."

The two of us stepped inside while she closed the door and then we followed her down the hall.

She said, "Did you talk to Medora?"

"I did. She was great. Thanks so much."