Page 223 of Taken Away

"But Sheriff...that's a long story."

Burke smiled.

"I've got all morning."

Patsy returned the smile.

"No."

She looked out toward the mountains.

"I think you've got thirty years."

Outside, the wind stirred the maples.

Inside, Burke realized he wasn't investigating a murder anymore.

He was about to uncover a family's history.

FORTY-SIX

Patsy’s House

Outside, the wind stirred the maples.

Inside, Burke felt the room shift.

He could feel it in the stillness of the kitchen. In the way her fingers tightened around the cup. But he hadn’t driven to Cullowhee for an old story.

He had driven there because Mabel Blackwood was dead.

“Before we go back thirty years,” he said, “I need to ask you something.”

Patsy looked at him.

“All right.”

“Do you know of anyone who held a grudge against Mabel? Anyone angry enough to want to hurt her?”

Patsy frowned.

“Hurt her?”

He nodded.

“Someone she might have been worried about. Someone she mentioned. Someone she’d disappointed.”

For several moments, the only sound in the kitchen was the faint ticking of a clock somewhere down the hall.

Patsy traced the rim of her coffee cup with one finger.

“No,” she said at last. “Mabel wasn’t afraid of anybody.”

Patsy looked down at her coffee.

"There was one thing."

"Walter."