inner door opened and Joslyn Henry stood there, half hidden behind the door, peering out at us through the screen. The woman frowned, hung back. Not a bit friendly. If anything, I would have said Joslyn Henry was wary of me and my uniformed friend.
âYes?â she said, and opened the door a bit wider when she saw who it was. There was still no invitation in her voice, no smile on her long, wary face.
Her hair was piled up into a loose, floppy topknot. She wore a flowered house dress with a coat sweater over it. Today she looked her seventy or so years, unlike the vital Joslyn Henry Iâd met before.
âWhat can I help you with?â Mrs. Henry said, as if we were Jehovahâs Witnesses.
âItâs me,â I said. âEmily Kincaid. Your neighbor.â I leaned around Dolly and smiled wide to show how harmless I was.
âSure, I know you, Emily. Not senile yet.â
The screen door stayed closed. I stood with an inane smile pasted on my face. âThis is Deputy Dolly ⦠eh â¦â
âWakowski.â Dolly leaned forward and gave her last name. âWe met before, Miz Henry. I think I gave your son Ernie a ticket once. Came here âcause he got mad and tore it up and I didnât want his temper getting him in trouble. But thatâs neither here nor there. Thing is, Emily, here, found something strange in her garbage can yesterday morning and weâre kind of going around to the neighbors, wondering if you saw anything odd out by the road. Some person not supposed to be hanging around.â
âWhat was it, Emily?â Mrs. Henry asked me, ignoring Dolly. I got the impression that what I had to say wasnât going to come as a surprise. From her frozen face and icy voice, I figured Mrs. Henry knew about Ruby Poet and had already been crying.
âIt was a human head, Mrs. Henry,â I said, though I was still talking through her screen door and wondering why. Must be Dollyâs uniform again, I thought. We were going to have to split up to talk to people, or Dolly was going to have to think about a wardrobe change.
Mrs. Henry caught her breath and put a hand to her mouth. She put her other hand out to steady herself in the doorway, forcing the door open a little more. If she would only have unlocked the damned screen, I could have helped her. Whatever her reason for the unfriendly behavior, she was on her own handling her surpriseâif it was a surprise.
âWhose head was it?â she asked when she could take a deep breath again.
âRuby Poetâs,â Dolly said with a bluntness that made me uncomfortable. âYou mustâve known Miz Poet, didnât you?â
Again, Mrs. Henry had to hold on to the doorjamb. She made a noise and shook her head, as if she were clearing it. âOh, no,â she said. âSo itâs true. Poor Ruby. Oh my. Who would do such a thing to our beloved Ruby? Oh dear. Oh dear.â She put both hands to her mouth and really cried.
âNow, come on, Ma.â Ernie, a short, thick, little man who usually wore overalls with an oily rag sticking from the back pocket, appeared from somewhere behind her and clucked first at her, then at me and Dolly. âFlora Coy called earlier about Miz Poet. Maâs really upset. Maybe you better come around another time.â
âWell, now, Ernie, could you answer a couple of questions?â Dolly pushed on.
âNeither one of us saw a thing.â Ernie, hanging behind in the shadows, shook his head. Joslyn Henry stepped back. She was bent almost in half, sobbing.
âIf youâd let us in â¦â
âCome on, Deputy. You can see for yourself this isnât a good time. Iâd better take care of my mother. Miz Poet was her friend. You need to know anything, you come back another day, OK?â
âOf course,â I said, putting a hand on Dollyâs arm. She was pretty stiff and determined.
âWere you out to the road
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