couldn’t get too excited. My mind had been racing while she was going on and on about Charlie and Cher and now Char, and I finally had to stop her.
“Leslie, listen to me. I might be in huge hot water. Sharon’s death might be ruled a negligent homicide or involuntary manslaughter, and then what?”
“Well, then, do what Momma said and get a lawyer. You’re a big girl; call someone!”
“Leslie, I don’t even know a lawyer.”
“Well, sister? I’d Google it, then. Let us know what happens, okay?”
“Sure,” I said and pressed the end button.
I was shaken. Leslie had not expressed any concern or sympathy. But she probably had no more of an idea on how to handle this pickle than I did. Maybe because they were on the other side of the country, it didn’t seem real to them.
I was feeling very alone in the world. Very. Archie didn’t want to see me? I needed a lawyer? What kind?
The car door opened. It was Ted again.
“So,” he said, “there will be an investigation, of course. I don’t want you to get upset, but you might be implicated. I don’t know how they can accuse you of anything, except keeping bees that may or may not have turned into a malicious private nuisance.”
“My bees have never been malicious. And they’ve never been a nuisance,” I said and then reconsidered. “Okay, they used her car as an outhouse and they bearded her car, but that’s normal behavior for bees. She did not get stung.”
“The coroner most likely will be calling for an autopsy. In a few days, we’ll know whether it was bee venom that killed her or not. I expect the odds are that it was the venom, because she was an otherwise healthy young woman.”
“With a very unhealthy mind,” I said.
“Listen, Holly, want to be smart? Don’t talk to anyone—from any kind of media. And hire a lawyer first thing in the morning. A criminal lawyer. And here’s my number if you need me. You know Darlene, our emergency dispatcher? Her husband, Mark, might be able to help. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door. And stay away from your bee yard. It’s a crime scene that needs to be combed, and you sure don’t want to be accused of tampering with evidence.”
I’ll admit, I was in total shock. How was I supposed to sleep that night? I sat by my kitchen window and stared at Archie’s house for hours. His lights were on, too. I wrote a text message to him that said, I’m so sorry. If I can do anything, please tell me. And then I deleted it. If he wasn’t texting me, why should I be texting him? I was so confused about Sharon’s death.
Sharon was dead, but Hunter and Tyler were saved. And did my bees in the pink hive do it? Had they heard everyone’s cries for help to the point that they just decided to intervene? Had anyone seen what happened? What was Sharon doing in my yard in the first place? Why wasn’t anyone asking that? Was she taunting the bees? Trying to harm them?
I made a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it would help me sleep. I went to bed, but sleep was not mine to be had that night. I caught twenty minutes here and there, but something would wake me up again. A noise. A foghorn. The screech of an owl. The howls of coyotes as the Lowcountry crept toward dawn. Finally, I heard the newspaper brush my driveway and I went outside to pick it up.
There was no sign of life at Archie’s house. It was seven thirty. I assumed Archie would be taking the day off to arrange Sharon’s funeral, to write an obituary, to order flowers, and to do all the things that are necessary when there’s a death. I went back inside and dropped the paper on the kitchen table. I was exhausted.
My phone rang. It was Darlene.
“Bad news travels fast, doesn’t it?” I said. “Who did you hear it from?”
“It came over the wire from the call center. Are you all right?”
“I don’t even know the answer to that. But I do know that I need a lawyer.”
“That’s why I’m calling. Mark is free this morning, which is so weird because he hasn’t had a free morning in months! But he wanted to know if you’d like him to come over and talk to you.”
“Oh! Yes! Please! You have no idea how frightened I am