Gone Crazy by Shannon Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

shrugged. “He’s what he is. I don’t think he’d hurt Mama, but he won’t be crying at the funeral.”
    “Will you?”
    I’d caught her out. Her lips thinned, and she suddenly did resemble Vera, but not in a good way. “Not much, no,” she admitted, and swept up the plate of cheese and crackers. “She was easier before Daddy died, but that’s not saying much. You can go now.”
    I scooped up Boris and left. Whatever else Honey might be hiding, she hadn’t lied that Boris could tell, or me, either.
    ***^***
    I drove up to Jeff’s cabin on schedule, and tired out. I was tempted to reschedule my appointment with Davis, and skip the phone calls, but duty called.
    I didn’t have much hope of hospitality ahead. From what I’d heard, Jeff was the most cantankerous Collier yet. His cabin didn’t look promising, either. It was small, rough, hunkered under the trees high in the north narrow end of the hollow. Boris mewed to be picked up, and I smiled despite myself. In human surroundings, he’s a monster. In the woods, he’s a wimp.
    Jeff Collier appeared out of nowhere. A split second later, I realized it was from out of the rhododendrons that I now saw masked a shed. I let my hand fall off my sidearm. “Mr. Collier.”
    “Jeff,” he corrected, looking from me to Boris. He smiled. He looked much more like his father than any of the others did, less bony, darker-haired, taller. Hazel-eyed, not blue-eyed. More Collier, less Vera. His handshake was bruising. “Sorry. Sheriff. C’mon in.”
    I carried Boris through a door painted dark brown with black hardware. There was a tiny mudroom hung with plaid jackets, a bench under which many boots lived. Then we were in the cabin itself.
    When Laura said he was well-read, she wasn’t kidding. The whole cabin was a library. It was all smooth polished wood, floors to walls to ceiling, and all of it shelved to house books. A big foldout couch stood in the middle of the room under a ceiling fan that turned gently, and I heard the soft hum of a heat pump, saw a dehumidifier. This man treasured his books like Honey treasured her house.
    The sofa-bed was neatly made. The linens were typical bachelor stuff, mismatched blues and browns. There was a gorgeous round table with a battery-operated camp lantern sitting on it. There was a single armchair, hiding under a bedspread, and he insisted I take it. I squirmed a moment, and gave up my pride. “Could I use the bathroom, please?”
    He looked surprised, almost surly, then nodded tightly. “Sure. C’mon.”
    He led me to the bathroom, which was in the basement. When I got back upstairs, Boris was on the chair. Jeff was sitting on the bed. I found that interesting. Most people try to pet Boris. Jeff either knew better or hated cats.
    “You want to know about my mother dying?”
    I nodded, as Boris crawled onto my lap. “And your siblings. Ken and a couple others have gone to Harry Rucker saying one of you must’ve killed her.”
    He really was out of the loop. He startled. “Kill Mama? I thought she died of age.”
    “No,” I said, and watched with interest as his face closed down. To distract him, I asked, “Did you make the table?”
    “Yeah. Recovered wood. Got it in Richmond.” He shook himself, his head. “Mama got killed . I’ll be.”
    I hid a sigh. “Why’d you think I was here?”
    Jeff shrugged. He looked at his hands, which bore many small scars. Working hands, Aunt Marge would say. “I dunno. I guess I thought it was about some fight they were having. I stay out of things like that.” He shrugged again. “I shoulda left but…” He looked up briefly. “It’s home, y’know?”
    I did know. When I asked him if one of his siblings could kill their mother, he laughed without emotion. “You ever meet Mama?”

5.
    I headed to Gilfoyle with a head full of spinning wheels. Boris snored in his seat, exhausted by all the work he’d watched.
    When I walked into the café that Davis owned, I had to admit, I