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He nodded. “Okay, but not this time, Lulie. When she smiled at me, she was here, with me, and her eyes were alive with emotion as she tried to remember what had happened, put together where she was. I’ll tell you, her eyes seemed to penetrate right into me—I don’t know—sorry, I’m not explaining it well.”
Lulie lightly laid her hand on his arm. “We’ll see soon enough when she wakes up again.”
Sala said, “Before she does, can we talk a minute about Henry LaRoque? Both Mrs. Chamberlain and Calhoun LaRoque told us his father was cremated.”
Lulie blinked at them. “Mr. Henry? Yes, that’s right, he was cremated at the Sparrow Crematorium. They also have memorial facilities and most everyone in town was there. There wasn’t a viewing because of the way he was killed.”
Chief Masters said, “He looked like he’d been through the Spanish Inquisition. They had to keep him covered.”
Lulie said, “Oh, I see, you’re wondering how his belt buckle ended up in Lake Massey with all those bones. How that’s possible? He really was cremated, though. Could Gunny have been mistaken?”
Sala said, “Then why would anyone have tried to kill her, Ms. Saks? Her being attacked was all about that belt buckle. She said she did see it, and for whatever reason, Mr. Henry told her to keep it a secret, made her promise not to tell anyone, including you. Neither Mrs. Chamberlain nor Calhoun ever saw that belt buckle. They said he only wore suspenders.”
“That’s right,” Chief Masters said, “red suspenders. But why would he show this particular belt buckle to Gunny? Why would it be a secret Gunny had to keep? It was his, after all.”
Lulie said, “Why wouldn’t she tell me about it after he was murdered five years ago? I mean, what would a secret matter after he was dead?”
Chief Masters squeezed her hand. “I bet she forgot, Lulie, and it simply slipped out of her head. Seems to me Gunny’s always lived in the here and now, that is, when she could focus. She’s always accepted whatever comes her way, doesn’t question it. You tell her to do something, she does it, and then she forgets about it.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Lulie said. “But why would Mr. Henry swear her to secrecy? Why would Mr. Henry care? It’s a stupid belt buckle, nothing more. That’s why her story seemed so strange to me.”
Ty picked it up. “Mrs. Chamberlain told us Gunny worked at the Sparrow Crematorium before the post office.”
“Yes, she did,” Lulie said. “Mrs. Sparrow—Elaine Sparrow, Landry and Eric’s mother—hired Gunny to assist Mrs. Chugger at the reception desk. She greeted people, handed out cookies at the memorials, occasionally answered the phone. You know, odds and ends, nothing too taxing.” She paused. “After the Sparrow parents died and Landry married Susan, she became Gunny’s boss. Gunny really liked Susan, but it bothered her seeing dead people, especially seeing them shoved into an oven and burned up. I asked her how that was possible, I mean, her job didn’t require she be near the actual cremations. Turns out she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and it freaked her out. Susan told me she was sorry about losing Gunny. She told me Gunny was very good with grieving family members, very empathetic and gentle. Then Danny, you got her hired at the post office.”
Chief Masters nodded. “Lulie, Gunny squeezed my hand. She’s coming around again.”
Gunny felt light against her eyelids, not too bright or hurtful, but soothing and warm, comforting. She felt no particular pain in her head now, only a sort of heaviness, like a weight bearing down on her, and wasn’t that odd? She slowly opened her eyes, looked up into her mother’s beautiful face, then at her godfather and the two strangers behind them, a man and a woman, both about her age, both focused entirely on her, their expressions serious. Were they from the church? Was she dying?
“Gunny? Baby?”
Her mother’s voice, like sweet clear bells, like when she was reassuring her after a nightmare or when she’d told her how wonderful she was when Gunny ma
naged the grades she needed to graduate high school. When was high school? It had to be a long time ago, hadn’t it?
She heard her mother’s voice again, next to her cheek. “Can you speak to me, Gunny?”
Gunny. She suddenly remembered the bag race when she was six years old and all the kids had to hop toward a finish line with garbage bags belted under their armpits. She’d stumbled all over herself, and Bertie Wyman had called her a gunnysack. And it had stuck. It was better than the other names the kids called her, like dummy and doofus. She’d never complained to her mother because she didn’t mind those names as much as the names she’d heard adults call her, like simple but always very sweet. After the garbage bag race, Gunny was what everyone called her, her mom included. Her mom said it was charming and fun, even though she realized now her mom had hated it, and was only trying to make the best of it. But she’d accepted being called Gunny, really hadn’t given it much thought.
Now, though, she realized it wasn’t right. Gunny wouldn’t do. She wanted her mother to know it, wanted her godfather to know it, too. She whispered, “Mom, please call me Leigh. That’s my name. Leigh Ann Saks. Gunny sounds like some sort of marine. Gunny was okay when I was a little girl, but not anymore.”
There was utter silence. Leigh heard her mother suck in her breath. She felt the weight of their stares, the many unspoken questions hanging in the air, heavy as the weight on her head.
“It’s been a long time since I was a child, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m an adult. I’m also thirsty.”
It was her godfather who spoke first, his voice soothing as the soft light. “Not a problem, Leigh. It might take me a little while to get used to it, so be patient with me.” He put a straw in her mouth. “Slow, Gunny—Leigh—real slow, okay, sweetheart?”
It felt like heaven, and she wanted to drink the entire glass of water fast, all in one long gulp, but she felt pain building up somewhere in her chest and stopped. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her mother lightly touched a Kleenex to her mouth.
“Do you have any pain?”
“Not really, I was drinking too fast.” She smiled up at her godfather, then beyond him to the good-looking man and woman. “Who are you?”
46
* * *
Lulie kissed her daughter’s cheek and straightened. “Honey, let me introduce you to FBI agent Sala Porto from Washington and Chief Ty Christie from Willicott.”
