Page 26 of Brimstone Hollow

Finally, she says, “Let me wash my hands and grab something to drink. I’ll be right back. There’re some picnic tables down the hill, over that way.”

“Okay,” I say.

I check my watch—two minutes past eight—and walk in the direction she’d pointed. When I make it to the group of empty old picnic tables, I put down my food, and pull out my phone. I tap Tina’s number, take in a deep breath and—already wincing—tell her the bad news.

“YouWHAT?” she bellows. “YouWRECKEDHoney?”

I explain exactly what happened and listen as she bustles around the house. If a person can get ready in a violent manner, then that is exactly what Tina is doing. I hear Mel, Tina’s partner, in the background asking what’s going on, and then Tina huffs and shouts, “She’s wrecked Honey!”

“Tina,” I say. “I know it’s Memorial Day but—”

“Annie, shut up. I’m already on my way. I can borrow a wrecker. You know it’s a holiday weekend. My guy’s gonna charge me extra.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m gonna chargeyouextra,” she says, stomping across the hardwood floor of her old Highlands house. One door slams. Then another.

“I know.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she says.

“Drive safe,” I say.

She hangs up on me.

I sigh and sit down and tear open my bag, flattening it to use as a combo plate-placemat for my breakfast. I unwrap the biscuit like a present and the savory scent hits me in a wave of salty comfort. But the smell is nothing compared to the first bite. The pork is perfectly tender and juicy and wedged in the middle of a buttery, crumbly cathead biscuit. I’m practically moaning with pleasure when Zelda returns, lugging a big Styrofoam cup with a red milkshake straw.

“Frankie said that Katie King hired you,” she says as she sits across from me.

“That’s right,” I say. “Though she’s Katie May now.”

“Is she okay?” Zelda asks. “I’ve always wondered.”

“For the most part,” I say. “She seems like she’s doing very well. Successful, married, a baby.”

“That sounds okay, I guess,” she says with a half-snarky smile before taking a big sucking slurp of her milkshake. “The rumor is you think Ezra was murdered and that’s why you’re looking around. Is that true?”

“No,” I say. “I mean, not exactly.”

“But isn’t that what private investigators do? Solve murders?”

“Murder cases are for cops,” I say. “So, ultimately, if I do find evidence of foul play, I’ll have to hand the case over to them. Otherwise, I’d risk contaminating evidence.”

“So, whatdoyou do?” she asks. “Up until then?”

“Honestly, most of my job is just asking questions, digging into people’s secrets.”

Zelda grins approvingly at that and I try to get us back on course. “You knew her from before? When Katie lived in town?”

“That’s right,” she says. “Maggie, Katie’s mom, worked here. She was a waitress. My dad—before he died—was a cook here, and I hung around all the time. Maggie was funny and beautiful, and I thought she was thecoolest. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but she wasveryyoung. She must’ve just turned nineteen when she had Katie. Anyway, once Katie was big enough, Maggie would bring her in and I sort of babysat her, even though I think I was only about four years older than she was. We were friends, but I didn’t have any other siblings so, at the time, it felt more like sisters. Like Katie was my little sister.”

I nod and eat another cheddar tot and push the greasy envelope of golden rounds a little closer to Zelda. She takes one and gnashes it the same way I did.

“Then, one day, she was gone. My dad and I came into the Dairy and it was going around that Maggie left Mount Zion and took Katie withher. I think I cried for a whole week. My dad was best friends with Matthew Dishman and he got the chief to look into it, but there wasn’t much anyone could do—Katie’s mom had left a note explaining that she was leaving.”

A minor chord strums in my chest at that. The image of Katie’s mom leaving a note on the kitchen table, exactly the way my mom had. Only, in Katie’s case, her mom put her in the car, buckled her up safe, and took her along for the journey, away from her father.

Zelda continues, “My dad told me later that he was glad she’d left, in a way, that he could tell their marriage had been a big mistake. I mean, Ezra must’ve been almost in his thirties when they got together. And she was barely out of high school. I think Dad could see the writing on the wall before anyone else.”