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Authors: Charlaine Harris
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some contents, and inserted it between the blankets. The bag would no longer zip with the extra bulk. This was getting grotesque. Well, more grotesque. I took out one of the blankets and doubled up the other one in half the blanket bag, leaving the other half for the skull. The bag zipped, and it didn’t look too lumpy, I decided. I pushed it to the back of the shelf.
Now all I had to dispose of was a blanket. The chest of drawers was only partially full of odds and ends; Mother kept two drawers empty for guests. I ~ 74 ~
~ A Bone to Pick ~
stuffed the blanket in one, slammed it shut, then pulled it right back open. She might need the drawer. John was moving all his stuff in when they got back from their honeymoon. I felt like sitting on the floor and bursting into tears. I stood holding the damn blanket indecisively, thinking wildly of burning it or taking it home with me. I’d rather have the blanket than the skull.
The bed, of course. The best place to hide a blan- ket is on a bed.
I stripped the bedspread off, pitched the pillow on the floor, and fitted the blanket smoothly on the mat- tress. In a few more minutes, the bed looked exactly like it had before.
I dragged myself out of Mother’s house and drove over to my own place. It seemed as though I’d gone two days without sleep, when in fact it was only now getting close to lunchtime. At least I didn’t have to go to work this afternoon.
I poured myself a glass of iced tea and for once loaded it with sugar. I sat in my favorite chair and sipped it slowly. It was time to think. Fact One . Jane Engle had left a skull concealed in
her house. She might not have told Bubba Sewell what she’d done, but she’d hinted to him that all was not well—but that I would handle it.
~ 75 ~
~ Charlaine Harris ~
Question: How had the skull gotten in Jane’s house? Had she murdered its—owner? occupant? Question: Where was the rest of the skeleton? Question: How long ago had the head been placed in the window seat?
Fact Two . Someone else knew or suspected that the
skull was in Jane’s house. I could infer that this some- one else was basically law-abiding since the searcher hadn’t taken the chance to steal anything or vandalize the house to any degree. The broken window was small potatoes compared with what could have been wreaked on Jane’s unoccupied house. So the skull was almost certainly the sole object of the search. Unless Jane had—horrible thought—something else hidden in her house?
Question: Would the searcher try again, or was he perhaps persuaded that the skull was no longer there? The yard had been searched, too, according to Tor- rance Rideout. I reminded myself to go in the back- yard the next time I went to the house and see what had been done there.
Fact Three . I was in a jam. I could keep silent for-
ever, throw the skull in a river, and try to forget I ever saw it; that approach had lots of appeal right now. Or I could take it to the police and tell them what I’d done. I could already feel myself shiver at the thought ~ 76 ~
~ A Bone to Pick ~
of Jack Burns’s face, to say nothing of the incredulity on Arthur’s. I heard myself stammer, “Well, I hid it at my mother’s house.” What kind of excuse could I offer for my strange actions? Even I could not under- stand exactly why I’d done what I’d done, except that I’d acted out of some kind of loyalty to Jane, influ- enced to some extent by all the money she’d left me. Then and there, I pretty much ruled out going to the police unless something else turned up. I had no idea what my legal position was, but I couldn’t imagine what I’d done so far was so very bad legally. Morally was another question.
But I definitely had a problem on my hands. At this inopportune moment the doorbell rang. It was a day of unwelcome interruptions. I sighed and went to answer it, hoping it was someone I wanted to see. Aubrey?
But the day continued its apparently inexorable downhill slide. Parnell Engle
Now all I had to dispose of was a blanket. The chest of drawers was only partially full of odds and ends; Mother kept two drawers empty for guests. I ~ 74 ~
~ A Bone to Pick ~
stuffed the blanket in one, slammed it shut, then pulled it right back open. She might need the drawer. John was moving all his stuff in when they got back from their honeymoon. I felt like sitting on the floor and bursting into tears. I stood holding the damn blanket indecisively, thinking wildly of burning it or taking it home with me. I’d rather have the blanket than the skull.
The bed, of course. The best place to hide a blan- ket is on a bed.
I stripped the bedspread off, pitched the pillow on the floor, and fitted the blanket smoothly on the mat- tress. In a few more minutes, the bed looked exactly like it had before.
I dragged myself out of Mother’s house and drove over to my own place. It seemed as though I’d gone two days without sleep, when in fact it was only now getting close to lunchtime. At least I didn’t have to go to work this afternoon.
I poured myself a glass of iced tea and for once loaded it with sugar. I sat in my favorite chair and sipped it slowly. It was time to think. Fact One . Jane Engle had left a skull concealed in
her house. She might not have told Bubba Sewell what she’d done, but she’d hinted to him that all was not well—but that I would handle it.
~ 75 ~
~ Charlaine Harris ~
Question: How had the skull gotten in Jane’s house? Had she murdered its—owner? occupant? Question: Where was the rest of the skeleton? Question: How long ago had the head been placed in the window seat?
Fact Two . Someone else knew or suspected that the
skull was in Jane’s house. I could infer that this some- one else was basically law-abiding since the searcher hadn’t taken the chance to steal anything or vandalize the house to any degree. The broken window was small potatoes compared with what could have been wreaked on Jane’s unoccupied house. So the skull was almost certainly the sole object of the search. Unless Jane had—horrible thought—something else hidden in her house?
Question: Would the searcher try again, or was he perhaps persuaded that the skull was no longer there? The yard had been searched, too, according to Tor- rance Rideout. I reminded myself to go in the back- yard the next time I went to the house and see what had been done there.
Fact Three . I was in a jam. I could keep silent for-
ever, throw the skull in a river, and try to forget I ever saw it; that approach had lots of appeal right now. Or I could take it to the police and tell them what I’d done. I could already feel myself shiver at the thought ~ 76 ~
~ A Bone to Pick ~
of Jack Burns’s face, to say nothing of the incredulity on Arthur’s. I heard myself stammer, “Well, I hid it at my mother’s house.” What kind of excuse could I offer for my strange actions? Even I could not under- stand exactly why I’d done what I’d done, except that I’d acted out of some kind of loyalty to Jane, influ- enced to some extent by all the money she’d left me. Then and there, I pretty much ruled out going to the police unless something else turned up. I had no idea what my legal position was, but I couldn’t imagine what I’d done so far was so very bad legally. Morally was another question.
But I definitely had a problem on my hands. At this inopportune moment the doorbell rang. It was a day of unwelcome interruptions. I sighed and went to answer it, hoping it was someone I wanted to see. Aubrey?
But the day continued its apparently inexorable downhill slide. Parnell Engle
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