had to find her. It must have been awful."
I tilted my head in a brief nod. "I guess you and Deedra had known each other for a long time, both growing up here and all."
Janet nodded, her thick brown hair swinging against each cheek. She'd let it grow to chin length, and wore bangs. It became her. "Deedra was a little younger," she said, leaning against my car. I threw my gym bag in to land on the passenger's seat, and propped myself against the open door. It was a beautiful night, clear and just a little cool. We wouldn't have many more evenings like this; summer practically pounces on spring in southern Arkansas.
"I was a year ahead of her in school," Janet continued after a minute. "I went to Sunday school with her at First Methodist. That was before they formed Shakespeare Combined Church, and way before Miss Lacey's first husband died and she married Jerrell Knopp and began going to SCC. My mom is still real good friends with Miss Lacey."
"Was Deedra always ....romiscuous?" I asked, since I seemed to be expected to keep the conversation going.
"No," Janet said. "Not always. It was her chin."
And I understood. Her severely recessive chin was the only feature that had kept Deedra from real prettiness, the flaw that had kept her from being homecoming queen, head cheerleader, most prized girl to date - everything. It was easy to imagine Deedra gradually coming to feel that if she couldn't achieve those things, she could be remarkable in another way.
"Wonder why her parents didn't do anything about it?" I asked. "Is there anything you can do about chins?"
"I don't know." Janet shrugged. "But I can tell you that Lacey has never believed in plastic surgery. She's real fundamentalist, you know. A great lady, but not a liberal bone in her body. That's why she took to Shakespeare Combined Church so well, when she married Jerrell and he wanted her to go to church with him."
A tap on the jaw seemed to have much the same effect on me as a glass or two of wine. I felt disinclined to move, oddly content to be standing in a parking lot having an idle conversation with another human being.
"Jerrell and Deedra didn't get along so well," I commented.
"No. Frankly, I've always wondered..." and Janet hesitated, her face compressing into an expression of both reluctance and distaste. "Well, I've always wondered if he ever visited Deedra ... you know? Before Lacey's husband died, before Jerrell ever imagined being able to marry Lacey?"
"Ugh," I said. I turned this over in my mind for a minute. "Oh, yuck."
"Yeah, me too." Our eyes met. We had matching expressions.
"I would think he would hate remembering that," Janet said, slowly and carefully. "I would think he'd hate wondering if Deedra would ever tell."
After a long, thoughtful moment, I replied, "Yes. I'd think he certainly would."
Chapter Three
Lacey Knopp called me the next morning. I was about to leave for Joe C Prader's house when the phone rang. Hoping it was Jack, though the time difference made me fairly surely it wasn't, I said, "Yes?"
"Lily, I need you to help me," Lacey said. I hardly recognized her voice. She sounded like she'd been dragged over razor blades.
"How?"
"I need you to meet me at Deedra's tomorrow. I need help packing up the things in her apartment. Can you do that for me?"
I try to keep Wednesday mornings free for just such special projects. I wasn't more than a little surprised that Deedra's mother was in such a hurry to clear out Deedra's apartment. Many, many people react to grief with a furious flurry of activity. They figure if they don't hold still, it can't hit them.
"Yes, I can do that. What time?"
"Eight?"
"Sure." I hesitated. "I'm sorry," I said.
"Thank you." Lacey sounded shakier, suddenly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
I was so buried in thought that I took the wrong route to Mr. Prader's, and had to turn around and go back.
Joe Christopher Prader was as old as God but as mean as the devil. Called "Joe C" by all his family and cronies (those few still surviving), he'd been known for years for stalking around Shakespeare brandishing a cane at everyone who crossed his path, lamenting the passing of the better days, and bringing up old scandals at the most inopportune times.
Now Joe C's stalking-around days were pretty much done.
Some visits, I kind of enjoyed him. Others, I would have decked him gladly if he