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drained of color, and there was a discernible tremble in his lower lip. A tremor dominated his voice when he finally spoke. |
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"Never knew that woman to be sick in all the years I've known her," he managed. |
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"Call it anything you want to, Jake," I said uneasily, "but I've got a feeling this is tied in with the rest of this weird stuff." |
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"You think somebody killed her?" |
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"I don't know what I think, but we'd better have a look around." |
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Jake still paused, transfixed by the lifeless form stretched out under the worn plaid blanket. "Who would want to harm her? She didn't have an enemy in the world. Everybody liked her." |
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While Jake tried to cope with the ebb and flow of his emotions, I began looking around. Something was bothering me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing a robe and was outside. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't gone into town as she was instructed to do. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Vernice looked like one of those wiry little women that would seem to live forever. |
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I gave the rutted gravel drive the onceover and went back up to Vernice's trailer. There was no sign of blood on the porch, and once inside, it was evident that there were no signs of a struggle. The tiny quarters were immaculate. A pair of men's white boxer shorts and two white crew- |
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