Page 121 of The Secrets We Hide
“Oh,” Jude said. Another Clifton hallmark: naming your children after sixteen other Cliftons. “He’s from the farming branch of the family.”
“That’s right. He used to sit with Myrna when she could carry on a conversation. He’s a good man. But don’t tell Cousin Susan I said that. She’s never gonna forgive him for calling off the wedding.”
Jude pulled back from the family intrigue. “I need to ask you a difficult question.”
“Sounds ominous—giving the impression of something unpleasant.” Taybee’s laughter was filled with tension. She was not a person who easily navigated difficulty. “Maybe we should sit down.”
They both walked over to a wooden bench overlooking a retaining pond. Lights from the church rippled across the surface. Cars were still pulling out of the parking lot. Father Nate had gone back inside. Taybee perched on the end of the bench with her purse in her lap.
Jude couldn’t sit down anymore. She’d been in and out of Emmy’s cruiser all day. “What do you know about your father’s death?”
“Are you looking into it?”
Jude had let herself forget that Taybee was a lawyer. Her instinct was to question every question. “Why would I be looking into it?”
“Well, I know you slept with my daddy before he married my mama, but there wasn’t anything to it, was there? You weren’t in love with each other. You were just having a little fun.”
Jude noted the deflection, but she had to ask, “Who else has Millie told?”
“I didn’t get it from her.” Taybee gripped her purse. Her feet tapped a quick staccato. Three on the left. Three on the right. “The month before my wedding, I got into a big ol’ fight with Terrel. Mama told me she almost didn’t marry Daddy because of you.”
Jude wondered at her nostalgia when guilt could so easily erase it.
“Don’t worry. Mama wasn’t carrying a grudge,” Taybee said. “She told me that she used you as an excuse to start the argument. She had cold feet. Marriage is a big deal. Weddings are stressful. I don’t know why anybody has them anymore. I swear to God, the best thing about getting older is I don’t get asked to be a bridesmaid anymore. Your poor sister was asked four times in a single year. You could just see her hoping somebody got murdered so she’d have an excuse to say no.”
Jude had interviewed hundreds of people, but she had rarely come across someone who was so skilled at changing the subject.
“Let’s talk about what happened to your father.”
Taybee’s fingers tightened on her purse. “He was murdered, wasn’t he?”
Jude waited for more, but the woman who believed in using thirty words when she could use three had suddenly run out of steam. Taybee moved her purse to the bench beside her. Adjusted it the requisite three times. Smoothed out her skirt. Then she smoothed out the same section twice again.
Jude said, “I can tell this is very upsetting for you.”
“What gave it away?” Taybee’s laughter almost got the better of her. She tapped her finger to her head three times. “You’re a head shrinker, right? I bet you’re thinking you can fix me right up.”
“OCD can’t be fixed. It’s a chronic disease that can be managed with treatment.”
Taybee looked down at her skirt. Picked three pieces of invisible lint off the material. “You sound just like your mama. Not that Myrna didn’t think therapy was horseshit, but she got that tone in her voice that told you she knew what she was talking about.”
“I’m not a stranger to anxiety,” Jude said. “I would prefer not to have it, but in a lot of ways, it helped me with my work. I’m extremely thorough. I sweat the details. I don’t let questions go unanswered. I imagine you’re the same way. It’s what makes you a good lawyer.”
Taybee looked out at the water. Then she turned back to Jude.
“My daddy was so careful on the boat.”
Jude didn’t remember much about Ruel Clifton, but she knew he’d been a rule-follower. She also knew that obsessive–compulsive disorder was an inheritable condition.
“Before Daddy would go out on the water, he’d check everything twice, and then he’d check it again. Look at the hull for cracks and blisters. Check the engine for leaks and corrosion. Inspect the transom for rot. Test the electronics. And most importantly, follow the one-third rule. Daddy would map out his fishing plan before he got on the boat to make sure he had enough fuel on board. You gotta have one-third to reach your destination, a third for the return, and a final third in case there’s an emergency.”
Jude sat down on the bench beside her. She wondered if this was where Taybee had gotten her rule of thirds.
“Daddy was on the water just after sunrise angling for spotted bass. They found his boat anchored off a shoal down from Lanyard Bluff.”
Jude knew the stretch, which was at the edge of the Verona city limits.
“Another fisherman saw Daddy’s head bobbing just below the water. Said it was like his feet were glued to the muck. And I guess they were. His waders were full. Might as well been filled with concrete.”
