Avery interrupted these unwelcome memories to tell us that Poppy’s parents were on their way to Lawrenceton. John, my mother, Melinda, and I were sitting around the table in the kitchen, coffee mugs in front of us… trying. Trying to think what to do next. Trying not to talk about where John David might be. Trying not to think about what to do with Chase, a baby with a dead mother and a missing father.

“At least he’s weaned,” Melinda muttered to herself.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“I bet Avery and I end up with him,” she said, then tried to sound happier about it. “He’s a sweet baby, but…” She struggled to keep the words “I already have my hands full” locked down in her throat. “Poppy’s parents are too old, Avery’s dad and your mom are too old, and I can’t picture John David raising a kid by himself, can you?”

No, I couldn’t.

“Poppy was a good mother,” Melinda said quietly. “You wouldn’t think so, but she was.”

I nodded. “Poppy had a lot of good qualities.”

“What-excuse me, Roe, but I need to know-what actually happened to her?” Melinda asked, keeping her voice hushed.

“I think someone stabbed her,” I said, not meeting Melinda’s dark eyes. I was actually quite sure about that, but I’m no coroner, and I wasn’t going to give any final judgment on Poppy’s death.

Melinda made a little sound of horror, and I winced in sympathy. How scared Poppy must have been… how much it must have hurt. Had she hoped Melinda and I would come to save her, arrive in the nick of time?

I snatched my mind away from this fruitless conjecture and gave myself a good scolding. Poppy must have died very quickly, perhaps within a scant few seconds. Melinda pushed back from the table and left the room. Avery followed her. After a moment, I could hear the murmur of their voices coming from the living room.

My mother was watching John like a hawk, on the alert for signs of heart trouble. John was staring down at the table, studying a tablet open to a blank page. He’d stated his intention of starting a list of people he needed to contact, like the funeral home and the church, but he’d stalled. I knew that couldn’t wait any longer. I went upstairs, carrying the cordless phone into my old bedroom. I called Aubrey’s house.