She could tell her underpants were on wrong-side out. She lifted one hip so she could strip them off. “Damn it! Now I got stuff running down the inside of my leg. Give me a handkerchief or something so I can clean myself off.”

He handed her his T-shirt, which he’d wadded up and tossed aside. She jammed it between her legs and cleaned herself as well as she could. She eased into her underpants again and hooked herself into her bra. She pulled on her T-shirt and shorts and used her fingers to get the snarls out of her hair. Once dressed, she climbed over the tailgate.

Ty said, “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. You’re not there, I’m knocking on your door and I don’t care who sees.”

She kissed him in haste, told him that she loved him, and then hurried toward the house and let herself in the back door. The screen whined softly. The kitchen light was off, but she could see the luminous hands on the wall clock. 1:15. Violet and Foley usually didn’t get home until after 2:00 so she was fine. Everything was okay. The same table lamp was burning in the darkened living room. The fan rotated at a steady pace, pushing hot air this way and that. Both bedrooms were dark. She paused outside Daisy’s room, listening to the child’s slow, deep, regular breathing. She was fine.

Liza crept into the bathroom. In the glow from the night-light, she pulled down her shorts and checked her underpants. The crotch was wet with semen, stained with blood. She had to talk to Violet. She knew she should have made him use a rubber, but he promised he’d pull out, and now what? Violet would know. Violet knew everything there was to know about sex. Liza returned to the living room, where she lay on the couch, hugging herself. What was done was done. He’d told her he loved her-he’d actually said that to her-and he was the one who brought up the subject of seeing her again, so it wasn’t like she was chasing him or anything like that. Still, she wished she hadn’t done it. She could feel her eyes burn as the tears spilled out. As soon as Violet came in, the two of them would talk and she’d be fine.

28

I put a call through to Sneaky Pete’s. I could hear the strains of the jukebox in the background and a steady hum of voices. This was Saturday night, but it was only 6:45 and the place wasn’t going to rock until well after 9:00. Tannie answered the phone.

“Hi, Tannie. This is Kinsey. You have a minute?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind the interruptions. I’m tending bar and the gal who’s scheduled to work called in sick an hour ago.”

“I’ll try to be quick. You heard about Violet?”