Page 120 of Taken Away

The family thanked her and wandered toward a rack of brochures.

Her face brightened. “Well, look what wandered in.”

“Morning, Mary Lou.”

“What brings you here?” She narrowed her eyes. “You finally taking one of my brochures?”

“When have I ever taken a brochure?”

“Never.”

“Exactly.”

“Fair point.” She gathered a stack of maps. “You want coffee?”

“Always.”

“Good answer.”

A few minutes later, she joined him at a small table near the back, carrying two foam cups. Overhead, an aging fluorescent fixture hummed above stacks of trail guides and park maps.

“What?”

Burke wrapped his hands around the coffee. “I need to ask you some questions.”

“About?”

“Anne and Mabel. Their relationship.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s reaching back a ways.”

“Mabel too,” he added quietly.

The smile faded. “What happened?”

“The autopsy came back,” Burke said.

Mary Lou frowned. “The autopsy?”

"On Mabel," Burke said.

"I'm surprised they even did one. I told my daughter, if I go, don't let anybody do one of those on me. Bury me and let me rest." The corner of her mouth twitched, but the smile faded when Burke didn't answer. “What?”

Burke set down his coffee. “She didn’t die from natural causes.”

Mary Lou blinked. “What do you mean?”

Burke waited, but the realization didn’t come.

“Mary Lou...” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t really know how to say this without just saying it.”

Burke wished there were an easier way to say it.

“Mabel was killed.”

For a second nothing happened.

Then the brochures slid from Mary Lou’s lap and scattered across the floor.