downhill?”
I nodded.
“So Haywood’s thinking he might try his hand at a
little truck farming. He even said something about rais-
ing leeks for the upscale Cary and Clayton crowds.”
32
HARD ROW
“Leeks?” I had to laugh. “Haywood’s heard of
leeks?”
“He’s decided they’re just fancy onions and he’s al-
ready taken a dislike to Vidalias. Says they’re nothing
but onions for people who don’t really like onions.”
Privately, I agreed with my brother. What’s the point
of an onion with so little zest that you could peel a
dozen without shedding a tear? Give me an onion that
stands up for itself.
After so much cookie dough, the children weren’t
very hungry and asked to be excused to go play in Cal’s
room. When we were alone, Dwight told me that he’d
heard from Chapel Hill. The ME could not give them a
specific time. Depending on whether or not those legs
were outdoors and exposed to the freezing night tem-
peratures or inside, the hacking had been done as recent
as forty-eight hours or as long ago as a full week. The
dismemberment had been accomplished with a heavy
blade that was consistent with an axe or hatchet. And
yes, the legs did indeed come from a well-nourished
white male, probably between forty and sixty, a male
with blood type O.
“The most common type in the world,” he sighed,
reaching for the untouched half of Cal’s grilled cheese.
“Maybe someone will call in by Monday,” I said and
slid the rest of my own sandwich onto his plate.
After lunch, Dwight volunteered to take the children
to a new multiplex that recently opened about ten miles
from us. I grumble about all the changes that growth
has brought, but I have to admit that sometimes it’s
33
MARGARET MARON
nice not to have to drive thirty miles for a movie. With
the house quiet and empty, I finally got to do some
personal weekend pampering. I put Bandit in his crate
out in the utility room, gave him a new strip of rawhide
to chew on, then took a lazy bubblebath, followed by a
manicure. And as long as I had clippers and polish out,
I decided to paint my toenails as well.
The phone rang when I was about halfway through.
Portland Brewer. My best friend since forever and, most
recently, my matron of honor.
