“Do you think that green bag really exists?”
“Absolutely.”
“Technically the barn is Kirkland’s property, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Some of the old DeSalle holdings are held in trust for me. I don’t really know what Grandpapa owns and what he manages for my mother and me. It’s very complicated. But if he tries to stop me, I’ll go to the DA and make it an official murder investigation. It’s not my father’s body I really want, though. It’s Lena.”
Michael looks away from the Plexiglas windscreen long enough for me to see his confusion. “Your stuffed leopard?”
“Leopardess. I don’t know what she’ll tell me, but I know she’s important. May I use your cell phone?”
He unclips it from his belt and hands it to me. My pride tells me not to do what I’m about to do, but I have no choice. I dial Sean Regan’s cell number.
“Detective Sergeant Regan,” he says.
“It’s Cat.”
“Jesus. They’ve got a statewide manhunt going for you, and you call my cell phone?”
“Sorry to be an inconvenience.”
“Shit, it’s not that. But Karen wants to see copies of my cell phone bill from now on. I’m sure Piazza will be reviewing it, too.”
So, the women in Sean’s life finally got wise to him. “Well, I’m sorry. This is a business call.”
“Somehow I knew that.”
“I need you to do me a favor, Sean, no questions asked.”
“What favor?”
“That sounded like a question.”
In the silence that follows, I sense him remembering what it’s like to deal with me on a daily basis. “Okay, Cat. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Thanks. You know my aunt committed suicide last night?”
“I heard. I’m sorry.”
“There’s going to be an autopsy today in Jackson, Mississippi. Kaiser’s expediting it. I need to see that report, or at least know what the findings are.”
“Didn’t Kaiser tell you I’ve been suspended from the department?”
“Yes, but I know you’re still wired into the task force. Like knowing my aunt committed suicide. You’re already angling for a way back into this case. And if you help me, I might be able to give you one.”
More silence. “You need an actual copy of the autopsy report?”
“Whatever you can get. I’m particularly interested in anything the pathologist finds out about Ann’s reproductive organs. Scarring, old operations, anything like that.”
“Uh-huh.” Sean sounds anything but excited.
“I need this as fast as you can get it. Like yesterday.”
“I can’t give you what I don’t have yet.”
“I know. I just want you to understand-”
“Cat?”
“How are you doing? I mean with the baby and all.”
Anger surges up from a well deep within me, darker and more intense than I could have imagined. “Fine,” I say in a taut voice. “You don’t need to worry about me. Us. Whatever. I’m not your problem anymore.”
“You never were a problem.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’ll get that report for you.”
“Thanks.”
“I miss you, Cat.”
I hang up and punch in my mother’s cell phone number. As it rings, I feel Sean touch my arm. Then I realize it’s not Sean, but Michael Wells. For a moment I actually forgot I was sitting beside him in his plane.
“You’re crying,” Michael says. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think ‘okay’ is something to be aspired to at a time like this. I just have to keep moving forward.”
He withdraws his hand and goes back to flying.
Just as I expect to be kicked over to voice mail, my mother answers in a sleepy voice that makes me think
“Dr. Wells?” she says.
“No, it’s Cat.”
“Cat?” A brief pause. “I don’t understand. Are you at Dr. Wells’s house?”
“No. Mom, listen, I know about Ann.”
“Well, I figured you must have heard by now.”
“How are you doing?”
“Fine, I suppose. Considering. I’m at work, and it’s a very busy time for me. Which is good, I guess.”
“I always knew this was a possibility with Ann,” she says. “One of her doctors even told me to prepare for it. He said that if this ever happened, I should know ahead of time that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.”
“But is that how you really feel?”
She sighs heavily, and in the background I hear the Muzak she runs in her shop. “I don’t know. Look, I told you, I’m really busy today. I have to get out to Dunlieth to show the owner some new drapery fabrics.”
“Mom, I need to talk to you. Will you be at home this afternoon?”
“That depends on how long Dunlieth takes, doesn’t it?”
“Please try to be home. This is no day to be worrying about work.”
“Life goes on, Cat. I figured you of all people knew that.”
“What about the funeral arrangements?”
“Your grandfather’s taking care of all that.”
“I don’t mind talking to you,” she says, “but I don’t want you to start trying to tell me how to feel about this. I deal with my own feelings in my own way. You know that.”
“Or you don’t deal with them.”
Chilly silence. “I may not wear my heart on my sleeve like some people, but I’ve managed just fine so far.”
“Have you, Mom? Has life really been fine all these years?”
“I think I’ve done a pretty good job, considering the obstacles life put in my way.”
“I don’t know. She’s gone to the island. Deserted me with barely a word.”
This throws me. “The island? Pearlie hates the island.”
“Well, that’s where she went, right after she heard the news about Ann. I’ve got to go, Cat. If I don’t see you later, make sure you’re at that funeral. Ann would want you there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been having this dream about riding in that old truck with him, and it’s always raining.”
“Ohhh,” she says, her voice suddenly musical. “Daddy always got so tense when it rained, because no work could be done. You were the only one who could calm him down. He’d ride around the island showing you the birds
