Rose Hill (36 page)

Ed’s voice became hoarse and he had to pause, as he recalled what he thought had happened to Tommy. Scott went back to the fridge and took out two beers. Ed accepted his and took a long drink before continuing.

“I thought from the sound of it that Billy had run over Tommy, but he jumped in time.”

“I wonder if Billy tried to hit him or just didn’t see him.”

“It’s pretty dark back there and he was flying.”

“How is Tommy?” Scott asked.

“He has a couple cracked ribs and some bruises,” Ed said. “He’s lucky to be alive, but he's okay. His bike is history.”

“We can get him another bike,” Scott said.

“I’m taking care of that,” Ed said.

“Do you know where Phyllis is?” Scott asked, thinking someone had probably given her the news of Billy’s death by now, and not wanting her to be alone.

“She's at her mother's,” Ed said. “Doc Machalvie sedated her. Bonnie, Delia, and Lily Crawford were there with Pauline and Gladys when I called. There’s probably a house full of church women over there by now.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, drinking beer. The phone rang, and Ed got up to answer.

Scott let his mind wander, looking out at the snow flying. If Billy had lived, Tommy would have had to testify against him in court. Scott wasn’t sure Tommy could handle so much pressure or attention. Even now, the strain of being questioned by Sarah would be traumatic. What was the point, really? Theo was dead. Billy was dead. Poor old Willy was dead. Whom would it help?

“That was Frank looking for you,” Ed said. “Someone at the hospital called to say Anne Marie Rodefeffer woke up this morning.”

Both men sat in silence for a moment, processing this new information, and thinking about all they would need to do as a result. Ed would have to write it up for the paper, and Scott would have to interview Anne Marie, to find out if her husband, Knox, tried to kill her.

“I’m thinking of resigning,” Scott said.

Ed shook his head, smiling.

“I used to think about quitting,” Ed said. “But think about it. You’re a cop like I’m a newsman. What else are we gonna do? I could quit, but I’d still poke my nose in everything and write about it. I can’t help myself. You could quit, but you’d still be running around this town looking out for everybody. A bloodhound needs to track and a collie needs to protect the herd. We
just have to accept our roles in life and quit thinking we can do anything different.”

“But I’m not sure I’m making anything better,” Scott said. “Maybe someone else would do a better job.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. People are always going to do bad things to each other. This town isn’t perfect, the people in it aren’t perfect, and you and I aren’t perfect. We can be bitter and miserable about it, or find a way to be happy in a world that isn’t ideal. A man’s got to do what he thinks is right, learn from his mistakes, and know when to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Scott looked over at the black lab snoring by the stove, and then smiled at his friend.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My love and gratitude go to John and Betsy Grandstaff for all their support and encouragement. I give many thanks to early readers Terry Hutchison, Joan Turner, and Ella McComas, who gave me great feedback. I am grateful for the professional assistance and friendship of Kim Cohen and Kara Gray. Love to my good friends Joan, Nancy, Cassie, Mary, and Opal, and thanks for all the good laughs we’ve shared. Love also to Beth Ann, and to Shay and Dale, who introduced me to the joy of reading mysteries.

Books by Pamela Grandstaff:

Rose Hill Mysteries:

Rose Hill

Morning Glory Circle

Iris Avenue

Peony Street

Daisy Lane

Lilac Avenue

For Children:

June Bug Days and Firefly Nights

Ella’s New Hat and Her Terrible Cat