I will. Come in, please. I was in bed. Do you mind if I just climb back in?"
"Of course not, honey." Biggie pulled a blue velvet chair from the dressing table and placed it next to Laura. I stood at the foot of the bed. "Are you all right?" Biggie asked.
"Not really." She sniffed like a little girl. Biggie handed her a tissue from the box on the bedside table. "To tell the truth, Mrs. Weatherford, I don't know what I'll do without Rex. Oh, not that I don't think he's in a better place now. The poor man suffered so this past year. I'm selfish, I guess. But, you see, even as sick as he was, Rex was my strength. Can you understand that?"
"Of course," Biggie said. "He's always been that way, even as a boy."
Laura smiled at Biggie. "I forgot, you knew him, too. I guess we share something… I don't know how to say it…"
"You don't have to," Biggie said. "Now, what's to happen to you— to the ranch?"
"Oh, well, the girls need this place. Somehow, we have to carry on."
Biggie nodded. "What about Babe?"
"Babe?" Laura looked surprised. "Why should you ask about her? She'll go on with her life, I guess. She doesn't live here, you know, although she and Rob stay here a good part of the time. They have a house in Arkansas— up in the hills. Rob thinks of himself as a writer, although I don't think he's ever published anything. I can't see why they would continue to come here. Babe scarcely hides her dislike for me."
"And you? How do you feel about her?" Biggie looked hard at Laura.
Laura sighed. "I tried to be her friend at first, really. But Babe didn't want that, not for a minute. I can't prove it, but I have a feeling she tried to undermine me with her father. When she was still in high school, she used to spy on me. She didn't think I knew it, but I did. Even if I was only going to the grocery store, she'd follow me in her car." She stared out the window at the ivy trailing down from the house. "Once I confronted her about it when I caught her lurking outside the beauty salon, but only once. She became hysterical and accused me of things you can't even imagine. After that, I left it alone."
"Did you tell Rex?"
"Actually, no. Babe would have accused me of trying to cause a rift between her and her father— and, who knows, Rex might have believed it. We hadn't been married so very long when all this was happening."
"It sounds to me like that girl needed professional help."
"Oh, we sent her to counseling— the best money could buy. But she fooled the therapists. They would call us in for family sessions, and Babe would be all sweet reason. Eventually, I think, they ended up thinking we were terrible parents."
"My, my," Biggie said. "I guess you won't be sorry to see her go then?"
"Sadly, no. It was clear long ago that Babe and I could never be close, even now when we share the same sad loss." She closed her eyes and put her head back on the pillow.
Biggie stood up. "Honey, all this talk's just wearing you out. We'll be going now." She patted Laura's hand and headed for the door then turned back. "By the way, I was just wondering… do you know when the will's going to be read?"
Laura didn't answer. Her eyes were closed, and she looked to be asleep. But she wasn't asleep; she was playing possum. I could see her eyelids fluttering.
"Are we going home now?" I asked Biggie.
"In a minute," she said. "I just want to check Rex's room one more time."
I followed her down the hall and watched as she pushed open the door, noticing that someone had taken down the yellow crime tape. The room was dark and smelled nasty.
"What is that smell?" I whispered.
"It's death, J.R. You can't wash away the smell of blood. It lingers for a long time." She switched on the lights and began to walk around the room, picking up things and setting them down, opening drawers and pawing through the contents. I looked at the pictures and trophies on the mantel. My grandfather had been a great man, I could tell. In one picture, he was standing with Paul Newman beside a sleek, white racing car. In another, he was talking to Larry King. I