“You look just like your mother.” Olivia shook her head as if disappointed.
“Thank you,” I said anyway. “I’ve seen pictures of my mother and she was very beautiful.”
“Just be careful you don’t end up like her,” Grandma Olivia said.
I broadened my smile. “I have no plans to kill myself, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good. I’m glad she’s dead after killing my boy.”
I pulled my hand out of her grasp. “I don’t know the whole story. I’m sure if she killed Uncle Sid, it was an accident.”
“She had no business going to the cops. He was just doing what he had to do to get by. He wasn’t hurting anybody.”
I scrunched my forehead. “I don’t understand. She killed him by calling the cops?”
“It was none of her business. People got scared that Sid might talk. And they started that fire.” Olivia struggled to sit up. “Some things are better left alone.”
Joel pushed me aside to get to our great-grandmother. He laid his hands on her shoulders and eased her back down on the bed. “Calm down, Olivia. No sense getting worked up over old news.”
Olivia pulled in a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. “Sit with me awhile, Patricia.”
I looked at Joel. He shrugged and left the room. I sat in a wooden upright chair and scooted it close to the edge of the bed. The old gal held my fingers. Within ten minutes she had fallen asleep.
I looked at her face, now lying in peaceful slumber. The lines in her forehead came together in the center like an arrow, evidence of a lifetime of worry. The skin around her mouth lay in a deep frown, betraying disappointment and bitterness. How sad that she’d held on to all her griefs. I realized how fortunate I was to have been able to let go of so many of my own.
The door squeaked open behind me. My grandfather came into the room.
“Hello, Patricia,” he whispered.
“Hi, Puppa.” I kept my voice low.
He lifted a matching chair and set it next to mine. “I see Olivia broke down and asked you over.”
I looked at him funny. “Joel drove to my house and picked me up. She told him she was dying and had to see me right away.”
My grandfather smiled and looked at his mother’s quiet form. “Maybe. She probably just feels foolish for shunning you earlier. What better way to save face?”
“I guess so.” I stared at Olivia’s fingers intertwined with mine. Even in sleep she hadn’t relaxed her grip.
I looked at my grandfather, realizing we were alone for the first time. I remembered my promise to Missy Belmont. “Uh, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Sure. What is it?”
I struggled for the right words. “A friend of mine is hoping you’ll help her out.”
He furrowed his forehead. “What do you mean?”
I bit my lip. “Back in March, Melissa Belmont asked me to tell you that her husband was dealing drugs and beating her. She said you’d know what to do to help her out.”
He held a finger to his mouth to quiet me. He stood and pointed to the far door. I wriggled my hand from Olivia’s hold and tiptoed after my grandfather.
We entered a large master bedroom that apparently served as a study as well. A huge desk sat against the windows overlooking the front yard. Papers littered the surface. Rows of filing cabinets filled a whole corner. A double bed was scrunched against a wall, as if an afterthought.
“Wow. You’re a little behind with your filing.” I smiled as I made the comment.
Puppa ignored me and sat down at the desk, with pen perched over a scratchpad. “So when exactly did Missy ask you to talk to me?”
14
I put a hand to my forehead, trying to remember the events surrounding Missy Belmont’s plea for help. “I met her the Sunday after I moved up here. The next Tuesday we met at the library in Manistique, and she told me everything.”
Puppa glanced up at a twelve-month wall calendar. He wrote on his paper.
“And what exactly did she say to you?” he asked.
I relayed the details the best I could. “Then I told her she should take the kids and go to a shelter.”
My grandfather nodded. “That works for most people, but Missy knows she’s in a little deeper than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a drug network involved. It’s not just Drake she’s got to break away from. As with a lot of the wives and girlfriends, Missy has seen and heard too much. If she runs, she could be dead.”
I sucked in a breath. “So what can you do?”
Puppa shrugged. “Make a few phone calls. Call in a few favors. We’ll see.”
“But why would Missy think you could help her?”
“I used to be in law enforcement. Maybe she thinks I still have an inside track.”
“Do you?”
“We’ll see.” He scribbled a few more notes on his pad. “Or, maybe there’s something else going on altogether.” He paused, pencil in midair as he concentrated. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Go back in there and check on Olivia.”
I hesitated at the door. Puppa strode to a file cabinet and started flipping through folders.
“So, you’re like a retired cop?” I asked him.
“No, I’m like a fired cop.” He turned his back to me.
I gulped and nodded and walked back into Olivia’s room.
She was awake.
“How are you feeling?” I went to the bed and touched her hand.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Tell Joelly I’m hungry.”
“Sure.”
I found him in the kitchen, putting supper together.
“Mmm. Smells good,” I said.
He glanced up from his place at the stove where he was mixing something in a fry pan. “Hey, little cousin.”
“Hey, yourself.” I snuck a peek in the skillet. “Stir-fry. Looks yummy.”
“I take it Olivia’s not dead?” he asked.
“Nope. She’ll be kicking for a long time yet. In fact, she’s hungry.”
His spatula slowed. “Uh-oh. What’d you tell her? She only gets hungry when she’s gearing up for the gossip circuit.”
“You heard everything. She insulted my mother and I thanked her for it. She fell asleep right after you left.” Fat scraps and veggie ends were scattered across the top of the island. I scooped up a handful and put it in the trash. “So. Papa B was a police officer?”
Joel looked up from the stove. “State cop. How’d you know?”
I shrugged. “He told me. Said he was fired. What happened with that?”
His spoon halted mid-stir. “I’m surprised he said something to you. He never talks about it.”
I grabbed a dishcloth and wiped down the island. “So? What’s the scoop?”
Joel shook his head and went back to stirring. “I was pretty young at the time. Four or five years old, I guess.” He tapped the spoon on the edge of the pan. “In fact, it was right around the time Lizard died.”
“Lizard?”
Joel’s cheeks blushed red. “Elizabeth. Beth. Your mom. That’s what me and Gerard called her. She was a lot of fun.”
My forehead bunched. I could see two freckle-faced boys jumping out in ambush along some forest
