I FELT AS IF SOMEONE HAD KICKED ME IN THE GUT, MY lungs unable to draw breath. I suddenly realized I was squeezing my hands together so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palms.
Joline’s stunning pronouncement had left us all momentarily speechless. I cleared my throat and sucked in air.
“You’d better explain that, Joline. It’s an unbelievable accusation. I saw him with her tonight, at the hospital. He seemed genuinely—”
“What did he do? What did he say?”
“You need to calm down,” I said softly. I noticed mugs scattered across the top of the low table in front of her. “Do you want some coffee? Or a drink? I’m sure I can find—”
“No.” Again she shuddered, and this time she set aside the crumpled handkerchief. “You’re right. I’m being hysterical, and that won’t help anything.” She stared across at me. “Tell me what happened at the hospital.”
I gave her a brief synopsis of both my encounters that night with Dr. Jerry Eastman. “I have to admit,” I said when I’d finished, “that his abrupt changes of attitude were a little unsettling. It was almost as if—”
“He was two different people?” she said.
“Sort of. Are you aware that he came to my house on Sunday?”
The news didn’t seem to affect her one way or the other. “I’m not surprised. He was eavesdropping on our conversation Saturday morning.” She sighed deeply and dropped her head. “Eventually he finds out everything.”
I glanced at Red, unsure of how to continue. Joline Eastman was unraveling before our eyes. The proud, dignified woman who’d walked into my office just a few days before was slowly dissolving into this strange creature who swung wildly from inconsolable grief and anger to resignation in a matter of seconds.
When the silence had stretched out for nearly a full minute, I said, “Joline. Look at me.”
Slowly, she raised her eyes.
“Tell me what you’re doing here. Did you find out anything that will help us locate your sisters?”
She seemed to be in a daze. Again I looked at Red.
“Mrs. Eastman!” he said sharply. “We don’t have time for this. Kimmie doesn’t have time for this.”
Her daughter’s name finally penetrated the fog. “No,” she said quietly. “Nothing. I tried to talk to them earlier, but they wouldn’t answer the door. I came back, and Ellis finally let me in, but . . .” She let the thought trail away.
I kept my voice low and soothing. “What can you tell us about Kimmie’s father? Her real father. Is he still alive?”
Her reaction took me completely off guard. Leaping to her feet, she shouted, “What did that bastard tell you? What did he say?”
I glanced at Red for guidance, and he shrugged. I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, and again spoke softly. “You mean your husband? Pretty much the same thing you have every time I’ve asked the question. He told me to mind my own business.”
I jerked back in shock when she laughed. It was the last response I’d expected.
“Bastard,” she said again. “He’s only worried about his precious reputation.”
Joline leaned back against the soft cushions of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I got pregnant my senior year of high school. At first I was upset, but we were in love and planned on getting married as soon as I graduated. I wanted lots of kids, and I was never college material anyway. We had plans.” She drew a ragged breath. “But then he . . . just ran off.”
Red and I exchanged a look, and I knew both our minds had conjured up the same horrible image: a skeleton with a hole in its skull, its bones scattered by time and the creatures of the marsh.
“Was it your cousin?” I asked. “I mean, was . . . is Deshawn Kimmie’s father?”
She didn’t answer my question. Her eyes were fixed on some distant point over my head. “It’s the not knowing. All these years I’ve wondered if he just couldn’t handle being a father so young, or if . . . if he didn’t really love me.” Again she forced herself to speak calmly. “I tried to make a go of it on my own, but it was so hard. And then Jerry came back.”
“What do you mean, he came back?”
Joline looked at me as if from a long distance. “Jerry? He used to live near us. He was older, and off to college, but I knew who he was. He was just finishing his residency when he asked me to marry him. Kimmie was just a toddler. It seemed like the perfect solution.”
“But it wasn’t?” I asked softly.
She sighed. “He resented the time I spent with Kimmie, especially since we were having a hard time getting pregnant. Things got better after Christopher was born, except he seemed almost obsessed with his son. And when Kimmie got sick, he began to show his true colors.” The pain on her face hurt my heart. “He wants her to die.”
I remembered Jerrold Eastman’s words about trying to get Joline to come to terms with Kimmie’s imminent death, to give up looking for a donor and just let her go. Still, that seemed a long way from actually wanting her dead.
“Then why don’t you get her out of there? Move her to another hospital if you’re that concerned?”
“Because I can’t afford to! Do you have any idea what her treatment and care costs? Without Jerry’s medical insurance—” She struggled to control herself. “It’s been over two hundred thousand dollars so far. And if we find a donor, she’ll have to go to MUSC for the transplant, and—” Joline swallowed. “I need him right now. I’ll put up with whatever I have to to make my baby well.”
Joline suddenly lost the battle with her pent-up fear, and her sobs echoed through the small, neat house. I hesitated, wondering if she would welcome or rebuff my attempts at comfort, when Patience Brawley stormed back into the room. In robe and bare feet, she marched across the carpet and stopped in front of the weeping woman. Her hand hovered over Joline’s heaving back before she dropped it to her side. The look she directed at me froze me in place.
“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” When I didn’t respond, she said, “I’ll thank you to leave my house. Now.”
I wasn’t ready to retreat, not without some more answers, but I didn’t think we’d be getting them in Joline’s present condition. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, rising. “I’m sorry.”
Red joined me, his hand resting lightly on my arm as if for support. I turned as Ellis materialized in the doorway.
“Ma? Is everything okay?” he asked.
“See these folks out,” she said without looking around.
There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. We followed the young man to the tiny foyer and stepped out onto the porch. The clouds had moved on, I noticed, and the sky had exploded into a canopy of stars. I felt the door edging closed behind us and whirled back.
“Ellis, wait. Were you in on the conversation since Joline got here?”
His mother’s strict upbringing kept him from ignoring me, although I could tell from his eyes in the dim light that he wanted to slam the door and be done with us.
“A little,” he said, his gaze dropping to his feet. “My mom was seriously pissed off that I let her in. Why?”
“I need to know if your mother can put us in touch with Joline’s sisters, Contessa and Maeline. Did they talk about that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said reluctantly. “But Mama swears she doesn’t know.” He swallowed hard and met my eyes. “They argued some about how Mama and the rest of the family had to take care of the funeral when Joline’s mother got killed, but that’s about all.” He paused again. “I’m gonna get tested. To see if I might be a match for the little girl. I told Mama I’m going up to Charleston as soon as I can whether she likes it or not.”
“That’s wonderful.” I glanced back inside, but I couldn’t make out what was going on in the living room behind him. “Do you know when Joline’s going back home?”
“She was just about set to leave when you-all came in. She says she has to get back to her kids.”
“Good. Tell her I said to call me as soon as she can, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that.” Again he looked at the floor. “I’m sorry if Mama—”
I reached out to pat his arm. “Don’t worry about it. She has a lot on her plate right now. Just tell Joline to call me.”
He nodded once and closed the door.
Red and I followed the walkway back to the Jaguar. Without asking, I handed him the keys and slid into the passenger side. I had to move my bag, which I’d left on the seat. As I reached to set it on the floor at my feet, I noticed a letter-sized piece of paper, folded as if to fit it into an envelope, sticking out from one corner. I switched on the overhead light and pulled the paper onto my lap.
“What’s that?” he asked, maneuvering back onto Holly Hill Road.
“I have no idea.”
I unfolded the stiff bond paper. The words COVENANT HALL were engraved in formal lettering across the top. The handwriting was precise and even, the few lines as straight as if whoever had written them had used a ruler. I scanned them quickly, then read aloud:
“ ‘I think you and I have some things to discuss. This is more than an old woman’s curiosity, I assure you. I’ll expect you on Tuesday at two o’clock. No need to be frightened of the dogs. A meeting will be to our mutual benefit. Don’t disappoint me.’ ”
I glanced across at Red, whose face in the dim light from the dash reflected my own surprise and confusion. “It’s signed ‘Elizabeth B. Shelly.’ ”
“I’ll be damned,” he said. “Miss Lizzie. I wonder what that’s all about.”
“I don’t have a clue,” I muttered and slumped down in the seat.