Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [92]
“At who?”
“My grandma. Do you know what she said at the hospital last night to me and my mother after everyone left? That it’s probably for the best. That Sam and Bliss were too young to have a baby. How could she say that? Say that Bliss’s baby dying is for the best?”
I shook my head, unable to give her an answer. It was a common, if insensitive remark I’m sure many people had said and thought in similar situations.
“How’s Bliss’s shoulder doing this morning?” I asked, trying to move the subject away from questions about her grandmother that I couldn’t answer.
“Much better. Susa’s with her right now. I just wanted to come find you.”
“Why?”
“To tell you I’m leaving San Celina. When Bliss is healed up, my mother and I are moving back up north. She called my father last night, and they had a long talk. They’re going to try to work things out. As for me, I just don’t like it here. Seven Sisters and all its problems is something I don’t need in my life.”
“We’ll miss you, JJ. I’ll really miss you.”
She leaned over and hugged me. “You’re one of the few things I will miss.” She reached down and petted Scout. “You, too, big boy.” Then she stood up and straightened her long cotton skirt. “As for all the stuff about the secrets in my family and who killed Giles, I just don’t care anymore. I really understand why my mom left when she was eighteen, why she didn’t want us raised around Seven Sisters. Frankly, I’m hoping Bliss and Sam come up north when they get married.”
“And I hope they don’t,” I said, smiling. “But I understand what you’re saying.”
Her visit helped me decide once and for all that stepping out of the investigation was the right thing. It was Detective Hudson’s job, not mine, and right now I was too concerned about my husband and his son to worry about which person in the Brown family was a killer.
I was unlocking my truck, having decided to drop by Elvia’s bookstore and catch up on the trials and tribulations of her love life, when Detective Hudson’s red pickup pulled up next to me. Scout barked in enthusiastic recognition. The detective stepped out, wearing the plain brown ropers today that he’d worn Saturday night when we’d danced. The sleeves of his blue Arrow shirt were rolled up, revealing a large leather-band Swiss Army watch.
“You should’ve worn those yesterday for our cemetery tour,” I said, glancing down at his feet.
“How’s Officer Girard?” he asked.
“They said she’d be going home tomorrow.” I looked at him curiously. “How’d you find out about her?”
“It was in the newspaper this morning, but I found out last night. When a cop goes down, believe me, it gets around even if it isn’t someone from your agency.”
“Did you hear she lost her baby?”
His eyes dropped to the ground. “That stinks. The gunshot?”
“No, the nurse told me that most likely there was something already wrong with the baby, that the gunshot didn’t cause the miscarriage. It was just one of those things.”
“My ex-wife lost one before Maisie was born. It’s hard on a woman.”
“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your daughter’s name. Maisie. That’s pretty.”
He grinned shyly. “Don’t get me started, or I’ll force you to look at all my pictures. Then after that it’s the home videos and refrigerator art. You’ll never get free.”
For the first time since we met, I almost liked Detective Hudson. “So there’s at least one woman who has you under her thumb.”
He nodded, laughing. “Benni Harper, you hit it right on the head with that one. Not to change the subject, but what did your husband say about our little wilderness experience yesterday?”
“I didn’t tell him and I don’t want you to either. He doesn’t need any more worries right now. Actually I’m glad you dropped by, because it saves me a phone call. I’m off the case.”
“You’re chickening out on me when we’re getting so close? You can’t give up now.”
“I’m not giving up, I’m just doing what I should have done from the beginning—let you investigate it alone. I should have never let you talk me into getting involved. We could have been hurt or killed yesterday.