Charlaine Harris - Poppy Done to Death

This was certainly a simple-enough account.

Bryan took John David through the morning’s activities and their timetable once more, quickly. Maybe the contrast was clearer because John David and I were so stunned, but I had to admire the lawyer’s clarity and focus.

Then Bryan took my hand, much to my surprise. “And you, young lady,” he said gravely, though I was sure he was only a year or two older than I, “tell me what your part in all this was.”

Once again, I told him a compressed version.

“The Uppity Women,” he said with a smile. “My ex-wife is an Uppity Woman.”

By that time, he was shepherding us into the building, and I took a step back. “I’m not going in,” I said.

“Of course, you need to get back to the family,” Bryan Pascoe said, his voice warm and understanding, but his thick blond eyebrows flew up.

“I need not to go in here with him,” I said emphatically, though unclearly. “I’m a widow,” I pointed out, and though John David still looked dazed and uncomprehending, Bryan Pascoe immediately grasped my point. Any unmarried woman would be doubly suspect if she accompanied John David on this day, of all days. “Good thinking. I’ll talk to you later,” he said, and he and John David marched into the complex, ready to plunge into the business of justice.

Since I had to go back to the house and explain all this to John Queensland, I wondered who would have the easier time of it.

On my way back to Mother’s, I stopped by the library to explain the situation and beg for some time off. Still in my nice dress, with my good pumps on, I was much admired before the condolences started rolling in. Perry Allison and Lillian Schmidt both gave me hugs, which I appreciated. After I’d accepted the first wave of sympathy, Perry said, “Oh, by the way, there’s a young man here waiting for you.”

Those words were not exactly the thrill they might have been. “Not my stepson?” I asked, peering in all directions so I could hide if I saw Barrett coming.

“No, no, this one’s younger.” Perry, who was resplendent today in deep green cargo pants and a chocolate brown shirt, pointed at the magazine area, and I looked at the young man sitting at the round table with a Gaming magazine in front of him. He was easily five nine, and he was broad-shouldered. His teenage-chic clothes had started out expensive, but now they were definitely on the grimy side. His skin was not perfect- teenage spottiness had hit him pretty hard-but it was deeply tan, and his hair had been dyed a bright metallic gold. His face looked familiar; there was something about the nose and mouth that made alarm bells sound in my head.

“I know him,” I muttered. “Who is he?”

He glanced up, and his gaze returned to me after passing me over once. He got up slowly, closing the magazine and tossing it back on the rack.

“Want me to stay?” Perry asked as the teenager came over. I didn’t answer him, because a hope had begun to grow in me, one I could scarcely bring myself to admit.

“Sis?” the boy said.

Oh my God-his voice had changed.

Peering up at him, I said, “Phillip?”

The next instant, muscular arms lifted me into the air and the oddly familiar face was grinning up at me.

“My brother,” I said proudly to the gaping Perry. “This is my brother.”

Once Phillip had replaced me on the floor, I pushed my glasses up on the bridge of my nose and grinned back at him.

“Are my dad and Betty Jo here in Lawrenceton?” I asked, amazed that I hadn’t known of such a trip.

“Ah, no.” He might as well have had the word apprehensive tattooed on his forehead. Hmmm.

My coworker reminded me he was present by making a little noise in his throat. “Phillip, this is Perry,” I said, sure I was making Perry’s day. The arrival of a long-unseen brother was great news for Lawrenceton’s gossip mill.

Perry shook Phillip’s hand solemnly, said he was glad to meet any brother of mine, and then found something to do on the other side of the library. Perry was not insensitive to atmosphere. After an awkward moment, I suggested to my brother that we go outside to the employees’ parking lot to have a little talk. It was cooler, and gusty; I was sure it was going to rain. Phillip was wearing a tank top under an unbuttoned flannel shirt, and the breeze was way too brisk for his ensemble. His flesh looked goosey.

“I’m truly happy to see you, but you better explain why you’re here,” I said, trying not to sound too stern.

“Things haven’t been going too good at home,” he admitted, shoving his hands down in his pockets. He’d hinted as much in his E-mails, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Dad couldn’t keep his-” I stopped abruptly and substituted a milder phrase. “Dad was not faithful to Betty Jo?”

“Right,” my half brother mumbled.

“I guess some things don’t change.” I tried not to sound bitter. “Listen, Phillip, please tell me they know where you are.”

“Ah, not exactly.” He tried to smile at me, but it didn’t work.

“How’d you get here?”

“Well, a friend of mine’s big brother was driving to Dallas, so I told him if he’d take me along, I’d split the gas.”

“This brother didn’t know how old you are?”

“Uh, no.”

Sure he had. He had helped a fourteen-year-old runaway. Or was Phillip fifteen now? Yes, just barely.

“And after you got to Dallas?”

“I, uh, hitched a ride with a truck driver to Texarkana.”

“He was okay?” Phillip wasn’t meeting my eyes.

“He was okay. The next guy wasn’t.” Phillip was just shivering from cold, I hoped. After giving him a good look, I was sure.

I took a deep, deep breath, trying to keep it silent. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?” I asked very gently. “There’re lots of specialists in Atlanta; they don’t know you or me, and they’d never see us again.”

“No,” Phillip said, his face brick red. “I get what you’re saying, but it didn’t come to that. It was pretty intense, though.” He may have thought he was smiling, but it was a grimace, compounded of fear, embarrassment, and humiliation.

“Where’d you end up?”

“I just made it partway to Memphis with the bad guy. I got another ride into the city.”

“Okay.” I was biting the inside of my mouth to keep my face calm. “What then?”

“Uh, I went to the college campus-you know, the University of Memphis? And I found the Student Center, and I read the notices on the bulletin board.”

I wondered how he had learned to do that.

“And in those notices, there was one from two girls who needed a guy to ride with them to Birmingham. They were scared they’d have a flat tire or something, and I can at least change a flat tire. I think. Anyway, Britta never had one.”

Britta. Hmm. “So they took you as far as Birmingham.”

“Yeah.” If possible, Phillip’s face was an even deeper red. I was willing to bet those girls hadn’t known his true age, either, and I was thinking even more grimly that Phillip might need a blood test. “So from Birmingham, I just rode the bus.”

“I’m glad you had the money left for that.”

“Uh, Britta and Margery chipped in on it.”

“You had a lot of adventures,” I said, smiling so I wouldn’t scream. He was lucky to be alive.

“Yeah. I think, you know, I did okay.” He seemed to know that sounding any more boastful than that would get him a good slap on the wrist.

“And all this time your parents haven’t known where you were?”

He nodded.

I could not even imagine how they were feeling.

“How long has that been?” I asked in a voice I just barely managed to keep even.