Jack popped another bacon bit into his mouth. “Let’s call all the husbands and ask if they were ever one of Verna’s customers.”
“Right, no problem,” Kate said with a roll of her eyes. “And all the high-school boys, while we’re at it. Maybe one of them thought he couldn’t survive hearing the wordno.”
“Cheryl told Gil he was her ‘second favorite,’” Sara said. “So who was first?”
“Flynn,” Jack said. The women gave small smiles, but there was no real humor.
Kate got up to get some of the photos Sara had run off. The two skeletons were vivid against the dirt of the tree roots. She tapped the picture that clearly showed a hole in one skull. “This isn’t fair. That girl had ambition. She knew what she wanted. Most teenagers have no idea, but Cheryl had goals and worked toward them.”
“Maybe Verna’s second job was meant to raise money for her daughter. College is expensive,” Sara said.
“I think her dad was going to help with that,” Jack said. He looked up to see the women glaring at him.
“Who was Cheryl’s father?” Sara’s voice was almost a threat.
“No idea,” Jack said. “One time Cheryl said her mother’s friend had bought her some diamond earrings. I guess to my kid mind that meant ‘father.’ But now I think that probably wasn’t what she meant.”
“I’d like to hypnotize you to get every bit of information of that time out of you,” Sara said.
“You’d be embarrassed,” he said. “Like Gil said, I also had, uh, dreams about Cheryl.”
“Ateleven?” Kate said.
Sara was cleaning the countertops. “I wouldn’t be shocked at all. Sex was part of what I used to write about. Knees, hands, mouths, where what went when. Sometimes I had to use action figures to keep body parts straight. After that, I don’t embarrass easily.”
Kate ate one of Jack’s million-calorie cheesy bacon bits. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like your books. I had to sneak to read them or Mom would have been angry.”
“When you wereeleven?” Jack mocked her tone.
“No. Last month. My mother believes I’m a virgin.”
“Ithink you’re a virgin,” Jack said.
“More of your fanciful dreams?” Kate said. “Speaking of sublime sexual fantasies, would you mind if I invited Alastair Stewart to the house? He’d like to see what you’ve done with it.”
“Everyone in Lachlan wants to see this house,” Jack said. “But it’s private.”
“Don’t let me forget to send Detective Cotilla an autographed book.”
“You should hold a big autographing and clean out the garage,” Jack said. “There must be a hundred boxes in there. Wish I could give a book to Cheryl.” He halted, the last bacon bit on the way to his mouth.
Kate’s eyes opened wide, and Sara froze, dishcloth in hand. They looked at one another.
“An autographing in memory of Cheryl and Verna Morris,” Jack said.
“And when they come to meet the world-famous, reclusive author Sara Medlar, we’ll ask them questions,” Kate said.
Sara groaned. “I liked the idea up until now, but I don’t relish being the bait.”
Jack held out the last bacon-and-cheese to Kate and she took it.
“The funeral is Tuesday,” Kate said. “It’s Friday. Is there time to arrange something? And what about the funeral itself? Where does the county bury unwanted people?”
“Unwanted.What an awful word!” Sara looked at Jack. “Think your mom and Ivy could arrange a nice funeral? Lots of flowers? My expense?”
“Of course,” Jack said.
“And a memorial service held in this house?” Kate asked. “Food, et cetera?”
