only a year or two old. âI like a big car,â she said.
We nodded. We liked it, too. We were bundled up for the weather, and Twyla looked like a ball of fudge in her dark brown coat.
âDo your son and his wife know weâre here and what weâre doing?â I asked cautiously.
âParker and Bethalynn do know, but they donât believe it will lead to anything. They think Iâm wasting my money. But they know itâs my money to waste, and if it makes me feel betterâ¦â
I hoped they were as philosophical about it as Twyla made it sound. Families can give us an awful lot of troubleâwhich I guess isnât too surprising, since they usually believe weâre defrauding their grieving relative. Still, weâve had a bellyful of trouble in our lives, and we donât want any that we can avoid. I exchanged a glance with Tolliver, who was in the back seat, and one glance said all this between us.
âHave you ever had a child, Harper?â Twyla asked.
âNo, Iâve never been pregnant,â I said. âBut I know how you feel. My sister has been missing for eight years.â
I didnât normally tell people that. Of course, some of them already knew it. It had made a big splash in the papers when it happened. But I was a high school student then, not aâ¦whatever I was now.
âYou have other family?â
I said, smiling brightly, âWell, I have Tolliver. Iâve got a half brother, Mark, and two half sisters, little ones, Mariella and Gracie. They live in Texas with our aunt and her husband.â Mark wasnât my half brother any more than Tolliver was. He was simply Tolliverâs older brother. But I wasnât in the mood to spell it out.
âOh, Iâm so sorry. Your parents already passed?â
âMy mother has. My father is still living.â In jail, but living. Tolliverâs mother had died before his father met my mom, and Tolliverâs father was out of jail and driftingâ¦somewhere. Considering my mom and dad and Tolliverâs father had all been attorneys, theyâd had a long way to fall. Theyâd really thrown themselves into it.
Twyla looked a little shocked. âWell, how awful. Iâm so sorry.â
I shrugged. That was just the way it was. âThanks,â I said, but I knew I didnât sound sincere. Couldnât help it. When I heard that my mother had died, I was sorry, but not surprised, and not unrelieved.
We were quiet after that until we pulled up by the side of the road. Twyla glanced down at the list sheâd taken down during a quick phone call with Sandra Rockwell. Sure enough, Sandra Rockwell had a prioritized list of places to check. This was place number one.
We were behind the high school at the football practice field, a stretch of barren level ground. One of those devices that the boys push around was still sitting by the side of the field, though football season was over. The field house was closed and locked until next year. Basketball would be the sport in play now.
âThis is where his truck was,â Twyla said. âWeâd just gotten it for him. It was an old second-hand Dodge.â
Sheriff Rockwell had said less about Jeff than about any of the other boys, perhaps because sheâd known weâd be talking to his grandmother. Looking around now, I didnât see anyone. Not a soul. So an abduction at this point wasnât out of the question, though risky. At any moment, someone might come out of the school. But there werenât any houses nearby. The lane behind the practice field was just a bare strip of ground before a steep hill that had been sheared away to build the school.
Though it might be a fair spot for an abduction, I seriously doubted someone had killed the boy on the spot and buried him here, but I wanted to show I was willing. I stepped out, sent out that part of me that made me unique. There was no response. I was getting the