Full Scoop (6 page)

Maggie had other things on her mind. “Why do you need your satchel?”

“Oh, I thought I’d make up a protective floor wash. It can be used for a personal protection wash as well, but you already know all that.” She got up. “Better put on some water to boil.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to boil a bunch of basil and smell up this whole house,” Maggie said. “Please tell me you don’t expect Mel and me to bathe with it because it’s not going to happen.”

“And I’ll leave a jar of basil with you to sweep up with as well,” Queenie said, obviously choosing to ignore the question.

Maggie didn’t put up an argument as Queenie went about her business. Not that she could say or do anything to stop the woman once she made up her mind. Queenie had tried more than once to convince Maggie that many of her remedies were as good as or better than modern medicine, but Maggie did not use them, and she strongly opposed root work or other practices for harmful purposes.

“I have to make a grocery list,” Maggie said after a moment. She needed to occupy her mind and stop her obsessive worrying or she would drive herself nuts. She grabbed a tablet and pen from a drawer in the small built-in desk.

Zack entered the room as Everest came through the back door with the candles and satchel. “Here’s your hoodoo-voodoo mojo mumbo-jumbo stuff, Granny Queenie,” he said, grinning. “I hope you don’t have any cat’s eyeballs or lizard’s tails in this big old satchel,” he added as he placed it on her chair. “Because I’ll get a bad case of the heebiejeebies.” He winked at Zack. “Just kidding. Nothing scares me.”

“You know I don’t use eyeballs and all that nasty stuff,” Queenie told Everest.

Maggie gave Zack a questioning look. “Everything okay?”

“I found three unlocked windows, including the one in your daughter’s bedroom,” he said.

“It cooled off for a change last night so we opened them.”

“We need to keep them locked from here on out. Also, I want all the blinds and curtains closed, and I want you and Mel to avoid standing in front of them. Beginning now, the two of you don’t leave the house without me. Not even to grab the morning paper.” He smiled. “Deal?”

Maggie and Queenie exchanged glances. “Do you think he’s already here?”

Zack shook his head. “I seriously doubt it. The airports, bus stations, and even the marinas were crawling with cops and security within an hour of Stanton’s escape. My guess is they dumped the car the minute they left the hospital. I suspect they had another one waiting nearby. It’s hard to imagine that they would have been dumb enough to steal a vehicle because somebody would report it right away.

“I think the three of them are traveling together by car. Unless, as a witness to the crime suspects, one of the shooters was hit. If that’s the case we might be looking for two bad guys instead of three.”

“Maybe Carl Lee was shot,” Queenie said, her voice hopeful.

Zack smiled at her. “That would help. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything to go on, but I want to be prepared.” He paused and looked around. “What’s that smell?”

“Queenie is boiling basil to protect the house from evil,” Maggie said as though it were an everyday occurrence. “She practices folk medicine.”

Zack looked intrigued.

“This is powerful stuff,” Queenie said. “Carl Lee Stanton will not set foot in this house after I’m done.”

Maggie sat quietly for a moment, rolling her pencil back and forth on the table. “Um, Zack?” she said. “I need to discuss something with you.”

He joined her at the table. “I’m all ears.”

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mel, but I think it’s too dangerous for her to stay here. I have an old college friend in Charleston. I could take Mel there.” Maggie heard a sound from the doorway and looked up.

“No way am I leaving,” Mel said. “I don’t even like your friend Cheryl. All she does is complain because she can’t find a boyfriend.”

“I could help her with that,” Queenie said.

“Excuse me,” Maggie told her daughter, “but I’m having a conversation with Zack.”

“I’m not leaving, Mom. You can’t make me go.”

Queenie stood at the stove stirring. “I should probably stay out of this. I should probably keep my big mouth shut.”

Mel crossed her arms. “If you make me go I’ll force myself to throw up in your car. Then, as soon as you leave Cheryl’s house I’ll run away. I’ll hitchhike back.”

Mel turned, strode across the kitchen floor and into the hall. A second later her bedroom door slammed.

Queenie made a tsking sound with her tongue. “The girl is scared something is going to happen to you,” she said to Maggie. “As much as I dislike hearing back talk from a child, I’m going to have to cut her some slack this time.” Queenie turned to the stove. “Once this is all past us though, I think you should ground her until she’s thirty. Everest, look in my satchel and grab more basil. Get the big jar. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

“Would she actually run away from your friend’s house?” Zack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Maggie assured him. “She is willful and stubborn and spoiled. Tell him, Queenie.”

Queenie looked at Zack. “That girl is willful and stubborn and spoiled.”

“You’ll have to keep Mel out of school for a couple of days,” Zack said. “I want her at your office where I’ll be able to keep tabs on both of you.”

“I’m really trying hard not to get freaked out over this,” Maggie said, her eyes bright with tears.

Zack nodded. “It’s tough with kids.”

Maggie looked at him, noted that his eyes had softened. She did not want Zack Madden feeling sorry for her. She did not want him looking at her like that because it made her feel even more vulnerable, and if she let down her guard she might start crying and never stop. She cleared her throat and tried to sound casual. “Do you have children?”

“Nope.” Zack grasped his hands behind his head. “I discovered early on that my line of work doesn’t make for a good family life.” His cell phone rang, and he pulled it from the pocket of his jeans and checked the readout on his screen. “I’ll take this outside,” he said.

“Man, oh man,” Everest whispered once Zack left the room. “I’ll bet that call is from FBI headquarters. This is like watching a movie. Zack is one slick dude.”

“Yeah,” Queenie said. “But I’m thinking it might be tough for him to keep an eye out for Carl Lee Stanton when he can’t keep his eyes off Maggie.”

Everest nodded. “I noticed it too, Dr. Maggie.”

“Know what I think?” Queenie said, mopping her face with a paper towel. “I think under that beard is one fine man. And he’s got the nicest behind I’ve seen in a long time. If his front side is as good as his back side—”

“Queenie!” Maggie glanced toward the kitchen door. “Mel might hear.”

“Oh, good grief, the girl is thirteen years old,” Queenie said. “What? You don’t think she knows a man has a front side?”

Maggie almost groaned out loud. She did
not
want to start thinking about Zack’s front and back parts. “I thought we were going to have an ice-cream party,” she said.

Queenie gave a grunt. “No way am I going to eat Better than Sex chocolate ice cream with a good-looking man around,” Queenie said. She pretended to fan herself. “I might have an orgasm.”

“Granny Queenie!” Everest said, clearly shocked.

Maggie burst into laughter. It felt good to laugh after the day she’d had, with all the fears and worries swirling around in her mind. “I can’t believe you said that!”

Everest grinned at the older woman. “Hey, you could pretend it was gas.”

“I don’t
think
so,” Queenie said, tipping her white head to one side and giving a wicked smile. “Gas doesn’t make you go ‘ooh-ooh-ahh-ahh-ahhhhhhh’ and move like this.” Queenie began a hootchykootchy dance, swinging the dish towel seductively, then pretending to towel off her behind with it as she began swiveling.

“I may be old, but I’m still hot,” Queenie said, touching herself with one finger and blowing hard on it as though she’d just given herself a bad burn. Maggie and Everest laughed so loud it brought Mel into the room, but Queenie paid the girl no mind and began moonwalking across the kitchen.

Maggie shrieked with laughter.

Everest doubled over and held his belly, then grasped the back of Maggie’s chair to keep from falling on the floor.

“What in the world is she doing?” Mel asked.

Maggie couldn’t stop laughing, even when she noticed Zack peering through the screen door, an odd look on his face. He stepped inside, tucking his small cell phone into the pocket of his jeans. “Are you okay?” he asked Queenie.

She came to a dead stop, and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Everest snapped upright and threw his shoulders back as though standing at attention, and Maggie tried to swallow her laughter.

Queenie blinked. “Um, I, um. It’s just gas,” she said.

Zack looked amused. “You might want to have that checked out.” He turned to Maggie. “Could we chat for a minute? Alone,” he added.

Zack followed Maggie through the living room to the front door. He thought she looked a little stiff; she was probably trying to prepare for bad news, and it pissed him off that he couldn’t make things okay for her and Mel.

They stepped outside and Zack decided he liked the front porch, with its large rocking chairs with fat cushions, and ferns and potted plants. He’d noticed it first thing when he’d arrived earlier. Maggie Davenport was all about providing and making a good home for her daughter, and it grated on him that some mean son of a bitch would think nothing of destroying it.

He waited for Maggie to sit in one of the rockers before dragging the one next to it closer to her. She turned to him, her eyes troubled and expectant. “Okay, Madden, lay it on me,” she said, and he knew she was trying to sound brave. The faint tremble of her bottom lip told him she was having trouble pulling it off.

“I just got some news,” he said. “A security guard spotted the red Jeep Cherokee used in Stanton’s escape.”

“Where’d they find it?”

“Sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot, not far from the hospital,” he said. “I’m pretty certain Stanton wasn’t interested in shopping.”

“Not unless there was a sale on handguns,” she said.

“As I mentioned earlier, I think they had another car lined up. It would be too risky to steal one, although police are checking stolen-vehicle reports as they come in. Until now, all they’ve had to go on is the Cherokee.” He saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“Which means Carl Lee and his groupies have probably been on the road since ten-thirty this morning,” she said.

“Unless they had to look for a place to dump a body,” he said. “Our witness was right; the guy who pulled Stanton inside got hit. There was blood on the backseat of the car.”

“How do they know it wasn’t Carl Lee’s?” she asked. “It happened so fast. I understand there was a lot of confusion.”

He noted the hopeful look on her face. “It’s possible. The crime lab in Houston is going over the vehicle now.” She raked her hands through her hair, and Zack wondered if it was just a habit or if she was trying to compose herself. He watched the thick dark strands slide through her fingers and fall to her shoulders.

“What do we do in the meantime?” she asked.

“We wait.”

Max Holt walked into his wife’s office where she was eyeballing her computer monitor. “Hello, gorgeous.”

She looked up. “Oh,
now
you show up.” She crossed her arms and tried to look miffed, but miffed wasn’t easy with Max standing there grinning. She pulled her thermometer from her desk drawer where she kept it hidden from Vera. She waved it about. “Where were you when my temperature went up?”

He chuckled, rounded her desk, and sat on the edge. “Sorry about that. I was going through the plant, and I accidentally left my cell phone on my desk. I’m not usually so forgetful, but my wife is wearing me down with this sex-on-demand business.”

Jamie uncrossed her arms. She knew how anxious Max was to start production at the polymer plant. “We’re never going to get pregnant,” she said on a sigh. “I’m going to end up on fertility drugs. Women on fertility drugs usually have about eighteen babies.”

“Maybe we should stop trying so hard.”

Jamie shook her head sadly. “Poor Fleas is going to be an only child.”

They both looked at the snoring hound, sprawled on his back in front of the window. Max cocked his head to the side. “Is it me or is he getting better looking by the day?”

“Trust me, it’s you.” Jamie turned back to Max, her expression suddenly serious. “We have to talk. My friend Maggie is in trouble.”

“I know.”

She was surprised. “
How
do you know?”

“Helms called me. You can stop worrying now because there’s an agent already in place. Zack Madden will be staying with Maggie and her daughter until this thing with Carl Lee Stanton is over.”

“Why did Helms call you?”

“They needed more information on Stanton.”

“And they know you don’t have a problem breaking the law getting it,” she said.

“Only if it’s for a good cause,” Max said with a grin.

“Uh-huh. So what do you know about this Madden guy?”

“His father was the agent Stanton gunned down.”

“Holy crap!”

“Yeah. All of this is strictly confidential,” Max said. “Helms pulled a few strings so Madden could have the case. To sort of make up for the fact the bureau screwed up. Evidence was mishandled and lost. Which is why Stanton escaped the death penalty,” he added.

“I have a vague recollection of the case,” Jamie said, “but we were busy trying to get Maggie out of town and do the whole cover-up thing.” She paused. “Does Maggie know it’s personal for Madden?”

“No, and it is best that she doesn’t. Zack Madden has revenge on his mind. He’s going to take Stanton out.”

Chapter Four

Maggie went about the house pulling shades and closing drapes once she and Zack had finished their conversation. She knocked on the door to Mel’s room and found the girl sprawled on her bed sketching. Mel looked up but turned her sketch pad facedown. She was, at times, self-conscious about people seeing her work.

“We need to talk about the new house rules that Zack has put into place,” Maggie said, trying to sound casual as she listed them and went about the room pulling the curtains closed. Zack had taken down the café curtains over the kitchen sink and covered the window with aluminum foil, even as Queenie had shaken her head and told him how tacky it looked.

“He’s just taking extra precautions,” Maggie said, “and it’s only temporary.” She turned. “This is going to break your heart, but you’ll have to miss a couple of days of school.”

“What about my friends?” Mel asked. “Will I be allowed to visit them?”

“We’ll have to discuss it with Zack.” Mel didn’t look happy. “It’s not forever,” Maggie reminded. “The police are doing everything they can to find Carl Lee.” Maggie clasped her hands together in front of her. “We should talk.”

Mel gave a pained expression. “Mom, I don’t want to talk any more right now, okay? If you want to talk to somebody why don’t you talk to Aunt Queenie about how she’s stinking up the whole house?”

“She’s boiling basil to, um, protect the house.”

“Can’t you make her stop?”

“What do you think?”

Mel made a sound of exasperation. “None of my friends have all this voodoo crap in their houses. It’s dumb. Everything that’s going on here is dumb. My whole life is dumb.” Mel turned on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Maggie prayed her daughter would get through puberty quickly. “Yeah, life can be like that sometimes,” she said, heading for the door. “Just one dumb thing after another.”

Maggie finished her grocery list and pulled a large container of spaghetti sauce from the freezer to thaw in the microwave. She had decided if the house was going to smell Italian she should cook something Italian for dinner to go with it. Mel had left her room in search of a snack and was in the process of spreading peanut butter, cream cheese, and strawberry jam on a warm bagel as Everest watched. The girl cut the bagel down the center and handed him half. “Try it.”

Everest took a bite. “Hey, that’s good.”

“Told you.” Mel took a big bite.

Maggie listened in amusement as Mel went through the list of ingredients carefully so Everest could commit it to memory. “Don’t tell him how fattening it is, Mel,” she said.

“Oh, right, Mom,” Mel said with a grunt of a laugh. “This coming from a woman who eats her weight in chocolate.”

“Okay, so I have one teeny-tiny vice,” Maggie said.

Mel looked at Everest. “The only reason my mom isn’t fat is because she has good genes. My grandmother is thin and so was my great-grandmother.”

“Did they eat a lot of chocolate too?” Everest asked.

Mel nodded. “Tons of it.”

Maggie opened the pantry and searched through it for spaghetti. All she could find was a box of macaroni and cheese. “If I don’t buy groceries soon we’re going to be in trouble.”

“I want pizza,” Mel said. “We always order pizza delivery on the weekend.”

“When you’re home,” Maggie answered, “which you seldom are.”

“You could go out on weekends too if you wanted,” Mel said, “instead of sitting home reading your dumb medical journals. You’re long-suffering.”

“Excuse me?” Maggie arched one brow.

“You haven’t come to terms with Dad’s death. You compare every man you meet to him, and they always fall short. You need closure, Mom.”

“That’s deep,” Everest said.

“She probably heard that on
Oprah
,” Queenie said, reading the newspaper at the table. “They’re always saying stuff like that on Oprah.”

“Nope,” Mel said. “Caitlin told me. She heard it from her mom who heard it from—”

“Abby Bradley,” Maggie and Queenie said in unison.

“Uh-huh.” Mel finished her bagel and licked her fingers.

“I’ll bet Abby heard it on
Oprah
,” Queenie said. “Abby isn’t smart enough to come up with something like that on her own. She’s not even smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, somebody needs to teach that woman a good lesson.”

“That somebody better not be you,” Maggie told her.

“Bottom line, Mom,” Mel continued. “You need to start dating. People are going to think you’re weird. I
know
you can find
somebody
in this town you’re attracted to.”

“I could help you with that,” Queenie said, giving Maggie a big smile.

“Yes, you’ve told me. A trillion times,” Maggie added. “And the answer is still
N-O
.”

“All you would have to do is pick out a man you like,” Queenie went on as though she hadn’t heard a word Maggie said. “And leave the rest up to me. Mel is right. There has to be
one
man in this town you find attractive. All it takes is one.”

The back door opened and Zack stepped through. Four sets of eyes stared at him.

“Why is everybody staring at me?” he asked. “If you tell me I have ketchup on my face it’s going to be hard to explain because I haven’t been near the stuff.”

“Um, we were just trying to decide what kind of pizza to order,” Maggie said, “and wondering what you like.”

He shrugged. “I’m easy to please.”

“Me too,” Everest said.

“I’ll call Crusty’s,” Mel said, going for the phone. “I’ll order one large pepperoni and one with everything.”

Zack looked at Maggie. “I forgot to ask you earlier,” he said. “What’s the deal with the goat?”

Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! Poor Butterbean!”

Mel stopped in her tracks and slapped her palm against her forehead. “I forgot we had a dumb goat. It’s hard to think with Aunt Queenie doing her smelly voodoo thing.”

“Be careful what you say about my practices,” Queenie said sternly. “I’d hate to have to put the root on you.”

Mel rolled her eyes back so far in her head that Maggie was certain she’d caught a glimpse of her brain.

“And don’t you roll those eyes at me, young lady,” Queenie said. “You know I don’t tolerate eye-rolling. You keep rolling those eyes, and you might just find them stuck like that for a while.”

“Okay, I’ll do this instead.” Mel stepped closer; raised her fingers to her eyes and turned the lids inside out.

“Oh, Lord!” Queenie cried, backing away and giving a huge shudder. “Stop that!”

Zack grinned and looked at Maggie who simply shook her head. “Ignore it,” she whispered.

“Wow!” Everest said. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. How long can she do that?”

Mel stuck her head forward, giving Queenie a better view. “I can’t find my eyeballs,” the girl wailed.

“Get away from me,” Queenie cried, grimacing, “or I’m going to smack your backside so hard with this wooden spoon that you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

“Cut it out, Mel,” Maggie said, trying to concentrate on what to do with the goat.

Mel turned toward her mother’s voice, arms flailing. “Is that you, Mom?” she said, putting her hand on Maggie’s face and exploring it with her fingertips.

Zack and Everest laughed.

Maggie’s expression was deadpan, even though it was hard to remain straight-faced over her daughter’s antics, no matter how juvenile. “Please fix your eyes,” she said calmly.

“They’re gone. Aunt Queenie stole them for her witch’s brew.”

Maggie shrugged. “Guess that means you can’t order pizza. Too bad.”

Finally, the girl rubbed her eyes and blinked several times until the lids were back in place. She headed for the phone.

Queenie looked relieved.

“I forgot about Butterbean too,” Maggie told Zack, feeling sorry for the little pygmy with the kooky-looking eyes that nobody seemed to want. “I don’t have any goat food. I don’t even have a place to keep her. Except for maybe the garage. She’ll need hay.”

“I can get it,” Everest said. “Carter’s Hardware and Feed is ten minutes from here.”

“Take the van,” Zack said, tossing him the keys.

Maggie was relieved. “I really appreciate it,” she said. She reached for her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Go ahead and grab two bales of hay if you have enough money.”

“Oh, wait,” Zack said and pulled out his wallet. “How about picking up half a dozen good-quality night-lights from the hardware department.”

“Wow, you must really be afraid of the dark,” Mel said as the others gave him a questioning look.

Zack shrugged. “You never know when they might come in handy.”

“I’m on it,” Everest said. He opened the back door and jumped at the sight of a young man with tousled brown hair and a wrinkled coat. A camera hung from his neck. “You half scared me to death!” Everest said. “Who are you?”

“Mike Henderson from the
Gazette
.” He had to look straight up to see Everest. “Wow, you’re big.”

Everest nodded. “I was born big. That’s why I was named after a mountain.”

“Is your name Matterhorn?”

Zack joined Everest at the door. “What can I do for you, Mr. Henderson?” he asked.

The reporter pried his eyes off Everest. “I was hoping to have a word with Dr. Davenport.”

“Why?”

Mike looked surprised. “Well, um, I’d like to talk to her about an old friend of hers by the name of Carl Lee Stanton.”

“Why?” Zack repeated.

“I’m writing an article about his escape this morning, and I wanted Dr. Davenport’s response.”

“Did he say his name was Henderson?” Queenie suddenly shouted. “That’s the smart-aleck reporter who wrote the nasty article about my family.” She stepped up to the door, hands on hips.

Everest frowned. “Do you want me to have a little talk with him before I go to the feed store, Granny Queenie?”

Mike instantly paled. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“You called my grandfather a witch doctor,” Queenie said.

Everest grabbed the lapels of Mike’s jacket and lifted him off the floor. “You don’t talk about Granny Queenie’s family like that.”

“Wait! There has been a mistake,” Mike said. He looked at Queenie. “Who was your grandfather?”

“Dr. Cloud.”

“The Root Doctor? Oh, crap.”

“If I hadn’t been nursing my sick neighbor I would have marched right up to that newspaper office and given you what for. I let her talk me out of it. But now I’m mad again just seeing your face.”

Maggie and Mel exchanged sighs.

“Okay,” Zack said. “Let’s just settle down. Nobody is going to hurt anybody.”

Everest lowered Mike to the floor. “I’ll be on my way, then,” he said. “Excuse me, Mike, I need to get by.”

Mike quickly moved out of his way. He straightened his jacket, but it did little good. “Look, lady,” he said to Queenie, “I barely remember writing that article, but I would never have called your grandfather a witch doctor. I may have quoted someone. Most people don’t believe in that stuff anyway.”

Queenie started for him, but Zack blocked her. “Dr. Davenport can’t see you right now,” he said. “She’s in surgery.”

Maggie crossed the room. Enough was enough. “Excuse me,” she said, squeezing between Zack and Queenie. “I’m Dr. Davenport. You needed to speak with me, Mr. Henderson?”

Mike looked relieved. “I just wanted to get your reaction to the news about Carl Lee Stanton’s escape.”

“My
reaction
?” she repeated.

“You know, on account of the two of you were kind of tight at one time.”

“You need to leave before I do something you’ll regret,” Queenie said.

Maggie shot the woman one of her “don’t even think about it” looks. “Does Jamie know you’re here?” she asked Mike.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. My reaction to Carl Lee Stanton’s escape is no different from anyone else’s,” she said, an edge to her voice. “I want him caught before he hurts or kills someone else.”

“Are you afraid, Dr. Davenport?”

“What kind of question is that?” Queenie blurted.

Maggie looked at Zack, and their gazes met and held. “Absolutely not.”

“Wow!” Mike pulled a small notepad from his pocket. “You know he’s dangerous, right? And everybody says he has a score to settle with you. I’ll bet you regret ever laying eyes on the guy, huh?”

Maggie opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. How could she regret having known Carl Lee Stanton when the result had been a daughter she adored? She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. “I’m finished answering your questions.”

“Could I get a quick picture?”

Queenie pushed past Maggie. “Take a picture of this door,” she said, and slammed it in his face so hard the house shook.

“Holy shit!” Cook shrieked the words.

Carl Lee Stanton jumped, and the car swerved to the center lane, almost sideswiping the pickup truck that barreled past them. He yanked the steering wheel to the right, and they rode the shoulder for a few seconds before he managed to get control. In the passenger seat, Cook twisted around, covered his eyes and gave an enormous shudder.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Carl Lee yelled. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“It’s Loopy,” Cook said. “He’s deader’n hell.”

“Are you sure?” Carl Lee glanced around, trying to get a look. “Did you check his pulse?”

“I don’t have to, man. He’s stiff as a board.” Cook’s voice was muffled behind his hands. “His eyes are open, Carl Lee. He’s staring right at me.”

“Just what I need,” Carl Lee muttered. “A dead clown in the backseat.”

“I can’t ride in a car with a body. No way can I—”

“Shut up!” Carl Lee shouted. “I don’t need you freaking out on me on top of everything else.”

“You don’t understand. I have a serious
phobia
! Some people fear heights, elevators, and snakes, but I fear dead people.”

“So don’t look at him.”

Cook babbled on. “I was raised way up in the mountains,” he said. “When somebody in my family died the undertaker put them in a casket and delivered it to the house. It would sit there for three whole days! Somebody had to sit up with the dead person all night; I was five years old my first time.”