Appalachian Prey. Debbie Herbert

If I’d seen any on our property, I’d have reported it. Take a look around for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

      “Your father didn’t have to be growing it in his fields to participate. He could have managed an indoor operation.”

      “I don’t know anything about that.” Lilah crossed her arms.

      If she had a fault, it was stubbornness. She’d come by it honestly as Chauncey Tedder’s daughter. That man refused to live life on anyone else’s terms and abided by his own creed of what constituted right and wrong—the law be damned. Truth be told, many mountain folk felt the same.

      “If you find anything incriminating while you’re staying here, I hope you’ll tell me.”

      “Outlaws keeping a step ahead of the law up here?” she quipped. “Imagine that.”

      Were they ever. Every drug raid ended the same—a dead end with no evidence or suspects in sight. “This is serious, Lilah. Drug operations bring in a dangerous criminal element. They aren’t like your dad.”

      She sobered. “Which is why Dad would never have been a part of that. Never.”

      He raised his hands, palms out. “Okay, okay. I just can’t help worrying about you staying out here alone.”

      “I won’t be here long. There’s no reason to stay now that...you know.” She let her words trail off.

      Now that their relationship was over.

      Again, it hung heavy in the air between them, weighing on his shoulders like a thick blanket. “When?”

      “Soon,” she answered dismissively.

      He’d lost the right to question her more closely about her comings and goings. None of his business.

      “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for—”

      “Forget it.” She thrust out her chin. “I have.”

      Had she? Had Lilah really moved on? Because he sure as hell hadn’t. “Why don’t you stay with Darla while you’re here? The next guy coming along to buy ’shine might not be as nice as the one that just skedaddled off your property.”

      He caught the slight tightness at the edge of her eyes. “She’s busy with Ed and her kids. We’d get on each other’s nerves after a while, anyway.”

      “Too bad Jimmy couldn’t have stayed longer.”

      “Yeah. He looked so sad when he had to fly back,” she said wistfully.

      His old friend, her brother, was no longer the free-spirited kid that he used to hang around with in high school—and occasionally get in trouble with. Jimmy’s tour in Afghanistan had changed his carefree attitude. At the funeral, and even afterward, he’d been distant and grave. Shell-shocked, some might say.

      The loud rumble of a diesel engine roared from the driveway, and Harlan stepped out onto the porch in time to see a large gruff man at the wheel. He sharply turned the truck, and it circled the yard before heading back down the road.

      “Your cruiser is running off my dad’s business,” Lilah said drily.

      He rubbed his chin. “Wish I could leave it here overnight.”

      “I’ll be fine. Just go.” With that, she turned away.

      He’d been dismissed, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “At least for tonight, call your sister and see if she’ll stay out here with you.” At the cold snap of her gray eyes, he added, “Please.”

      “Maybe.”

      The old oak door shut firmly behind her. Stubborn woman.

      * * *

      A LEATHER CORDED bracelet with a crimson stone, a triple-stranded necklace of multicolored glass and a tarnished silver ring with a fake cameo carving. Lilah laid the jewelry on the kitchen table and examined the pieces. They obviously held little, if any, monetary value, but they’d been carefully wrapped in an embroidered linen handkerchief inside a red silk drawstring pouch. So they’d meant something to somebody at one time.

      Curious, she’d called Mom, who’d snorted when asked if they’d once belonged to her. “Anything I wanted from that cabin, which wasn’t much, I took with me when I left your dad.” She also claimed never to have seen the jewelry. “Might have belonged to Chauncey’s mama, but if it did, I never noticed he had them, and he never mentioned it to me. Your dad wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, anyway.”

      Still, Lilah was reluctant to chuck the pieces in the charity box with everything else worth salvaging. If the jewelry had belonged to Granny Tedder, she wanted to keep it.

      At the crunch of gravel outside, she peered out the front window. Good, just Darla and Uncle Thad come to call. She opened the screen door and waved them inside. Uncle Thad hefted Darla’s overnight bag from the truck bed as her sister minced her way to the porch in high heels. Lilah suppressed a giggle. Even as a kid, Darla was into playing dress up and acting like a Hollywood ingenue instead of a hillbilly’s daughter.

      “Thanks for coming over, y’all. Harlan was over earlier and got me all paranoid about staying alone out here.”

      “Harlan, huh? He’s sexy.” Darla winked as she entered, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.

      Lilah ignored the comment.

      “Got yer shotgun, don’t ya?” Uncle Thad bellowed. “Yer safe enough.” He huffed and puffed up the porch steps. He was a giant of a man, over six feet tall, and as strong and as broad-boned as an ox.

      He always knew just what to say to make her feel better. She hugged him as he entered the cabin.

      Darla walked to the kitchen table, hips swaying. When she pulled out a chair and sat, she crossed her legs, exposing a long stretch of thigh. “You’ve been working hard. I’ve never seen Dad’s place look so tidy. At least not since Mama ran off.” She tossed her hair and sighed. “Be a love and make me a cup of coffee. Those kids ’bout ran me ragged today.”

      Lilah exchanged a quick knowing glance with Uncle Thad, who was dragging the suitcase to the back bedroom. Somehow, everything always centered on Darla and her needs. Feeling guilty, Lilah set about fixing the coffee. After all, her sister was busy with her own home life and didn’t have to come babysit a grown fraidy-cat woman.

      “What do we have here?” Darla cooed, picking up the multicolored necklace and holding it to the light.

      “Found them under Dad’s mattress. Any idea who they belong to?”

      “No, but it’s mine now.” Darla clasped the necklace around her neck and preened. “How does it look?”

      Gaudy, actually. Lilah measured the coffee and started the machine. “Mmm,” she said noncommittally.

      Uncle Thad waved from the den. “Gotta hit the road. Momma’s waiting dinner on me.”

      “Tell Aunt Vi I said hey,” Lilah called from the kitchen.

      Darla put on the bracelet and ring. “Not too shabby, I guess. Whatcha think, Uncle?”

      He stopped and stared. “Where’d ya get those baubles?”

      “Lilah found them. Do they look pretty on me?”

      “Sure, sure. Not that you need adornment.” He winked at Lilah. Uncle Thad knew how to flatter his niece.

      “You want to keep one, Lilah?” Darla asked.

      “Nah, that’s okay. They should go to someone who appreciates them.”

      Uncle Thad left, and Lilah warmed up a large pot of chicken and dumplings and another pot of butter beans. She was suddenly ravenous and exhausted as the aroma kicked in, and she absently stirred the dumplings, thinking of all the things she’d have loved to discuss with Darla. Hidden matters of the