Cold Wind - C. J. Box [41]
Although Lucy had distanced herself from Missy in the past year, there was absolutely no doubt that Missy preferred her over all the girls. At one time, when Lucy was still vulnerable to her grandmother’s charms, Missy had gone through a period where she bought matching outfits for the two of them and took her favorite granddaughter for shopping and long lunches.
“Something terrible happened today,” Marybeth said to the girls on the couch.
“You took my phone,” April muttered.
Marybeth closed her eyes, fighting back anger. “Much worse than a phone,” she said. “Your Grandmother Missy was accused of murdering Earl. They found his body this morning. In fact, your dad found it.”
April’s mouth shot open involuntarily, then just as quickly she realized that she was baring her feelings and she shut it again. It was as if the Perpetual Mask of Petulance had slipped momentarily. Joe was relieved to see there was still a girl inside vulnerable to such news.
Lucy’s eyes were huge. She said, “I got some texts in school asking me about Grandma Missy, but I didn’t know what to answer.”
“I got no texts,” April hissed, “because you people stole my phone.”
“It’s all been a terrible misunderstanding,” Marybeth said, ignoring April.
“You mean Earl isn’t dead?” Lucy asked softly.
“No . . . he’s gone,” Marybeth said. Then she turned to him. “Joe?”
“He was murdered,” Joe said. “No doubt about it. Somebody killed him.”
“But it wasn’t Grandmother Missy?” Lucy asked, looking back and forth from Joe to Marybeth.
“Of course not,” Marybeth said. “But she’s been accused of it. We don’t have all the facts yet, but we think someone made it look like she had something to do with the crime. We don’t know who or why. Once everything’s investigated, she’ll be back home.”
“I can’t believe it,” Lucy said. “Did she stab him or poison him or what?”
“Neither,” Marybeth said heatedly.
Joe thought it interesting Lucy made the leap from Earl’s death to how Missy would have likely chosen to kill him.
“He was shot,” Joe said. “Then hung from a windmill.”
“Eeew,” April said, making a face.
“This is like a joke,” Lucy said. “What will people say about her? What will people think about us?”
Exactly, Joe thought.
April snorted and sat back in the couch, her arms still folded across her like an iron breastplate. “Well,” she said, “I guess maybe I’m not the only one in this perfect little family who makes mistakes.”
Marybeth recoiled, tears suddenly in her eyes. Joe reached out and pulled Marybeth to him and said to April, “I know you’re mad, but that wasn’t necessary.”
“But it’s true,” April said, narrowing her eyes, looking mean. “Maybe it’s time you people learned how to handle the truth.”
“Actually,” Joe said, “I think we’re pretty good at it.”
April rolled her eyes, suddenly bored.
“Meeting’s over,” Joe said. His tone was hard. And effective, since he rarely used it.
April sprang up and marched to her bedroom, smirking and satisfied with herself, but a quick look back at him indicated she thought she might have gone too far.
Lucy got up and walked behind her, slowly, and before she entered her room she said, “If anyone cares, I got the part.”
Joe felt as if he’d been punched. They hadn’t even thought to ask her about it. Marybeth pulled away from him and said to Lucy’s back, “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve had so much on my mind . . .”
They lay in bed awake, neither speaking. Joe ran through the events of the day in his head, trying to make sense of them. Trying to come up with alternative scenarios to the one most compelling and obvious. Trying to figure out why an innocent woman would be on the telephone to Marcus Hand within minutes of hearing about the death of her husband.
And wondering who had tipped off the sheriff.
Marybeth no doubt had the same thoughts. But there was more. At one point she sighed and said to Joe, “I hope this doesn’t tear our family apart.”
“Missy?” Joe asked.
“Her,