Appalachian Prey. Debbie Herbert

nodded and she watched as he and his father exited the building into the beautiful, sun-shining day.

      “It should be dark and stormy,” she said, lips trembling. “And pouring down rain.”

      A nagging sense of unease quivered in the dark recesses of her brain, and she rubbed her temples. Something wasn’t quite right about the viewing of Darla, other than the obvious.

      “Headache?” Harlan asked.

      “No. I can’t explain it. But I feel like I’m missing some important detail. I looked at Darla and...” Her voice drifted off.

      “It’s been a shock. I should have insisted Ed do this himself.”

      “It would have only made things harder for him, and he needs to be strong for his kids. And it wasn’t just seeing her dead. It’s something else.”

      “I’ll get you that water and we’ll be on our way.”

      Alone, she regarded the preoccupied staff and visitors go about the business of living.

      Harlan returned and pressed a bottle of water into her hands. Lilah sipped it tentatively. Not too bad, actually. It erased the lingering chill in her belly. “Maybe this will help me think better.”

      “Do you need to go back into the examining room?”

      “Hope not. Let me sit here a spell and concentrate.”

      His hand was powerful and comforting as he guided her to an unused waiting room and onto a sofa. “Take your time. If you want, we can come back tomorrow and talk to the forensics doctor if you need to. No rush.”

      She didn’t want to return and she didn’t want to see her sister’s body again. Think. Lilah placed her head in her hands and reviewed the last few minutes as if she were a camera, detached and methodical, scanning the scene to replay it for details. She’d entered the morgue, blinking from the glaring whiteness of the fluorescent lights and the white walls. The technician had unrolled the white sheet, exposing Darla’s face, and then she’d glimpsed Darla’s left hand where the sheet had exposed her bare fingers curled at the edge of the metal gurney.

      “That’s it!” Lilah jerked her head up and snapped her fingers. “Darla wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Not even her wedding ring.”

      “She always wore it?”

      “Always.”

      Harlan didn’t appear too impressed with her realization. “They might have removed all the jewelry before you saw her.”

      She hadn’t considered that. They’d probably given Ed the wedding ring and the costume jewelry Darla had been wearing from the cabin.

      “Why Darla?” she whispered, leaning her head against the cold hard wall. “Maybe Dad was involved in shady business. Even bigger than moonshine. Maybe even Ed and Uncle Thad and my boatload of cousins are as well. But Darla?”

      “Women commit crimes, too—not that I’m saying your sister did.”

      She shook her head adamantly. Darla hadn’t been concerned about anything past her own little world of her kids and her home. And she was much too lazy to get involved with work in any shape, form or fashion.