“Because at the time, it didn’t mean anything. Violet wasn’t even missing. When we saw the guy-Foley, or whoever-it wouldn’t have occurred to me he’d be doing anything like that. Digging a grave. God, it gives me goose bumps. I’m only telling you now because we know the car is buried there.”

“You remember anything else?”

“No. Well, yes. The guy was smoking. I remember that because we could smell it through the open window all the way upstairs.”

“Height? Weight? Anything like that?”

“Nope. It was dark and I only caught a glimpse. You think I should talk to the detective?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

“Even if it gets Foley in more trouble?”

“You can’t even claim it was him. All you can say is there was a guy out there working on a bulldozer. “The detective’s name is Nichols. He needs to know.”

By the time I got back to the emergency room, Foley had been released. He emerged from the examining area, clutching a head trauma precaution sheet and the pain pills he’d been given to take home with him. His eyes were already looking bruised, and I imagined that by the next day, the purple would be intense. He had a splint taped over the bridge of his nose, and it made his eyes seem as close together as a collie’s. Both nostrils had been packed with half-inch-wide strips of white cloth, and I could see sutures across his chin. I had to guess there were others on the inside of his mouth. Luckily for him, the pain medication was wiping out the ill effects of his drinking binge. He looked subdued. His eyes were fixed on Daisy’s with the mute, pleading look a puppy lays on you when there are table scraps at stake.

Daisy drove him into Cromwell, me trailing along behind in his truck as I had before. When she pulled into the driveway of the parish house, the porch light came on. The pastor pushed a curtain aside and peered out, then opened the front door in his slippers, pajamas, and a soft flannel robe. I parked in front, locked the truck, and crossed to Daisy’s car, where I handed Foley his keys. He wouldn’t meet my eyes and I could feel the embarrassment rolling off him like sweat. The pastor held open the screen door and Foley disappeared inside. Daisy had a few words with the man and then returned to her car.

We got in. For a moment, she sat staring through the windshield, her hands on the steering wheel.

“You okay?”

“I’ll tell you what’s weird. You know when you see a movie they have those previews of coming attractions? This feels like a preview of past attractions. I don’t remember seeing my father drunk, but this has to be what he was like when he was married to my mom. Not nice.”