Page 13 of Deeper Than the Dead
Another fleeting, blank glance from their father.
“He may be a little tired this evening,” Vera offered when his silence continued. Generally, he would say hello or some other greeting in acknowledgment of another human presence, even if he didn’t recognize the person.
Vera really would have preferred to just leave. Sensory overload had hours ago exhausted her. She needed to close out all else and let her mind still for a while. This final outing reminded her that it was a full-time job keeping Luna happy. Always had been.
How had she and Eve gotten through as well as they had?
“Daddy,” Luna persisted, leaning her folded arms on the bed rail, “we have some important news to share with you.”
Whether it was the move closer or her persistence, he regarded his youngest daughter. Even held her gaze until she spoke again.
“They found Mama.”
He blinked.
For reasons Vera couldn’t fathom, she found herself holding her breath. Would he remember who Sheree was?
He blinked again, then asked, “Where’s she been?” His voice sounded eons older. It was rusty and cracked, barely recognizable. His voice used to be so deep ... so strong. He’d been tall and handsome—was still handsome actually. How sad that this disease had stolen so much of him.
While Luna practically vibrated with joy that he’d spoken, Vera and Eve exchanged a surprised look. It almost seemed that he understood the relevance in Luna’s words. It was typically hit or miss as to what he would grasp in a conversation.
“Someone took her from us, Daddy,” Luna explained, her voice wobbling. “She’s been dead all this time.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Mama didn’t leave us. Someone took her.”
Vernon’s gaze narrowed as if he was trying to understand the words, or perhaps he did. “Probably not much ‘taking’ to it,” he said finally. “She probably went because she wanted to.” He shook his head, the move barely visible. “That one never was happy with what she had.”
Luna looked to Vera, her lips trembling, fresh tears perched on her lashes.
Vera put aside her indifference and stepped closer to the bed. “Daddy, what Luna is trying to tell you is that Sheree has been dead all this time. She didn’t run off with someone else.”
Vernon frowned. “Are you from the police? Where’s Fraley? I want to talk to him. He was supposed to take care of all this.”
“I am,” Vera told him. Technically she was, even if suspended. “Sheriff Fraley has retired, and there’s a new sheriff now. You might remember him, Daddy. It’s Gray Benton.”
He blew out a puff of air. “Is he sober?”
Fair question. Unexpectedly so. “As best as I can tell,” Vera said.
“He’s a good sheriff, Daddy,” Luna said, her voice still sounding shaky. “He thinks someone murdered Mama.”
“Did the world a favor,” Vernon mumbled.
Luna drew back as if he’d slapped her.
Vera reached for her arm. Gave it a squeeze. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” she assured her little sister quietly.
Luna tried to smile but failed miserably.
Vera turned back to the bed. “We’ll let you know when we have more news. You rest now, Daddy. I’m sure this has been a shock.” Damned sure had been to Vera.
He glared at Vera now. “Where’s that Eve? Sheree said she won’t listen to a word she says.”
“I’m right here, Daddy.” Eve sidled in next to Vera. “I’ll try to do better.”
Vera was grateful Eve hadn’t argued with him. Luna didn’t need the added stress just now.
“You better,” Vernon said. “She’s trying her best, and you know it’s not easy for her after all she’s been through.”
“I know, Daddy,” Eve said.
