Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [110]
“Heidi, come on, girl. These people won’t hurt you.” The dog turned and trotted back to Mrs. Knoll on the porch.
I laughed at Detective Hudson’s stunned face. “She does kind of favor your girlfriend around the muzzle, don’t you think?”
“Let’s get this done,” he said stiffly, opening his door and walking around the passenger side. The shredded paint caused a deep moan to erupt from his chest.
“Oh, cowboy up, city slicker,” I said. “Better your door than your face.”
Though the dog sat quietly next to the old woman, we were hesitant as we walked up to the shadowed porch. After a short introduction and a minute of letting Heidi sniff our hands, she rolled over and exposed her pale brown stomach, begging for a scratch.
“You’re just an old fake, aren’t you, girl?” I said, rubbing her muscled stomach. Detective Hudson stood a foot or so back, glancing over at his truck’s ravaged door, still annoyed at the dog’s disregard for his paint job.
“Oh, she can take a hunk out of you,” Mrs. Knoll said. “Don’t doubt it.”
I straightened up and held out my hand. “I’m Benni Harper. You said Lukie called?”
Mrs. Knoll nodded, her short, white hair wispy about her dried-apricot face. Her handshake was firm and direct, like that of a young woman. “Said you needed to ask me some questions.”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
She set her shotgun down on the corner of the porch. “Don’t reckon I have much anyone wants to know.”
“It’s about Rose Brown,” I said.
Her old face seemed to sink further into itself, and she stared out over my shoulder at something in the distance. She seemed lost for a moment in the past. She turned her ghost-lit eyes on me. “He the lawman Lukie was talking about?” she asked, nodding over at a silent Detective Hudson.
“Yes, he’s with the Sheriff’s Department.”
“I don’t have any use for the law. Won’t talk to him. It’s you or nothing.”
I turned to look at Detective Hudson, raising my eyebrows in silent question.
He threw his hands up in frustration. “I give up.”
“Come inside,” she said to me. “You.” She pointed at the detective. “Go sit in your truck. Sound travels around here, and this ain’t none of your business what I got to say.” The wooden screen door slammed shut behind her. Heidi remained on the porch, panting and watching me and Detective Hudson.
“I’m not sitting in my truck,” he said. “I’m the one with authority here. If that batty old woman thinks...”
I put a finger over my lips. “You want to blow this just because of your overinflated ego? She’s agreed to talk to me, so just humor her and go sit in your truck.”
Looking as if he’d like to take a bite out of someone’s leg, he stomped back to his truck.
Inside the cramped house filled with the accumulation of a lifetime of possessions, Mrs. Knoll was already sitting in a ratty blue velour armchair with beige doilies on the arms. Heidi had followed me into the house and settled in what was obviously her accustomed spot in front of a fireplace filled with charred bits of wood.
“Over there.” Mrs. Knoll pointed with a spindly finger to a Victorian sofa across from her. I moved a pile of ancient Life magazines and sat down.
“Sorry for the clutter,” she said. “I don’t get many visitors.” We sat there for a long, silent moment. Finally I said, “Mrs. Knoll, I have some questions about the years you worked with Rose Brown out at Seven Sisters ranch.”
“That was a long time ago, young woman,” she said, her thin arms resting quiet and still on the chair’s lacy arms.
“Yes, it was. But there’s been some... trouble out there recently, and Detective Hudson and I think it might have something to do with what happened back then.”
“What kind of trouble?”
I quickly told her about Giles’s death and the circumstances behind it. Her face never changed expression.
When I finished, she took some time to answer. The ticking of a large grandfather clock next to the door reminded me that an impatient Detective Hudson was fuming outside.
“Do you know . . . ?” I started.
She held