Mind Games

“There are going to be questions about why I asked for the police. Thea, I need to hope it’s your mama who calls and asks those questions. I need that hope.”

Thea sipped some of the tea, nodded again.

“But whoever asks them, you best leave it to me to answer.”

“Why?”

“Some people, they get greedy when they know you’ve got a gift, and they sure can hound you. Others, they don’t believe in it, and they can say hard things.”

“I know that already.”

Lucy sighed, and the sound was pure regret. “I haven’t done right by you on this, darling. I’m sorry for it.”

“Mom worried. It scared her.”

“That’s right.”

A little color had seeped back into those soft, young cheeks, Lucy thought. Not a lot, but a little at least. But the eyes didn’t look so young now, and the emptiness in them told Lucy that numbness still held.

“What do we do, Grammie?”

“I—”

The knock on the front door had Lucy’s heart folding in on itself, like paper balled in a fist. She could try to smooth it out again, and would have to, for this child, for the one sleeping upstairs.

But it would never be the same.

She started to tell Thea to go back upstairs and wait, but knew the wrongness of it. So she rose, reached for Thea’s hand.

“Hold on to me.”

They left the tea on the table and, hands linked, walked together to the door.

Chapter Four

Though the hard edge of the storm had softened, the wind still whipped through the trees and sent them swaying. The rain, thin now, left the air drenched and hazed. Thunder over the hills dropped to an irritable mutter.

Tate McKinnon, a solidly built man, his dark skin barely lined though he’d moved into his fifties, stood on the front porch in his uniform. His eyes, a deep brown, held sorrow.

He’d brought a young female deputy with him, also in uniform. Though she’d known Tate most of her life, and he was the next thing to family, Lucy understood he’d brought a woman because he felt she might need one.

Everything changed in that moment, before a word was spoken. She’d known, just as Thea had said, but that sharp and painful change waited for this moment.

There would always be a before, and there would come an after. And this moment forever separated them.

“Tate,” she said as Thea’s hand tightened in hers. “And it’s, ah, Deputy Driscoll, isn’t it? I know your mama.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Lucy.”

Lips pressed together, Lucy nodded at Tate. “Y’all come in. We should sit down.”

Tate shifted his gaze from Lucy to Thea, then back to Lucy again.

She just nodded again. “We should all sit down.” When they stepped inside, she closed the door behind them. Steeled herself. “In the front room.”

She led the way, then sat on the couch, wrapped her arm around Thea.