“I gave her a dose of the medication they were feeding me every day. It shouldn’t have hurt her. She was a big person.”

“Maybe she had an allergy,” Mel echoes Marion.

“They’re making it sound like I knifed her, or bashed her over the head,” Rose complains.

“Maybe she inhaled her own vomit,” Melanie says. “That happened to a kid on the football team. He suffocated.”

“At least she’s not dead,” Rose says to reassure them both.

“Not yet, anyway,” Mel says. “Cops came to the house. Regular uniformed cops, then detectives in suits. I’m glad Uncle Daniel wasn’t home. He’d have totally flipped out.”

Rose can believe that. Daniel is a great guy, a man not cursed with ambition. From what Rose has seen, he is happy with friends, football, and a job that pays enough for beer. He is so laid-back, it is considered a family miracle that he finally managed to ask Stella for a divorce.

“Who talked to the police?” Rose asks.

“Me. I was a confused little girl who didn’t know anything. Don’t worry, they bought it, and,” she adds with a note of pride in her voice, “I did not perjure myself once.”

“It’s only perjury if you’re under oath,” Rose says. “But I’m glad you didn’t lie for me.”

“I didn’t. They wanted to come in and look for you. I said Dad said not to let strangers in the house. Then I asked for their badge numbers, their names, their supervisor’s name and contact numbers, and how I could call and verify they were them. When they gave me the numbers, I asked how I could know the numbers were really real and they hadn’t just given me the number of a fellow conspirator who would vouch for them even though they weren’t real cops. They were pretty quick to decide to look for you somewhere else.”

“When does your dad get back?” Rose asks.

“Not for nine days. He’s running this massive home improvement trade show in Atlanta. Should I call him now? Or you can.”

“I don’t know,” Rose says.

“I could call Dad, say you needed him to come back. I’m sure he’d find a way to come,” Mel prods.

Rose thinks about that. “Not yet,” she says. “Tomorrow, first thing, I promise.” Her hand is trembling so much, the little red arrow from the remote darts frenziedly around the screen. Rose manages to turn the television off. Dropping the remote onto the sofa, she says, “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Are you kidding? This is more fun than I’ve had in ages.”

CHAPTER 11