Hour Game

The three of them slowly moved away. King remained nearby, tensed to leap if the women started throttling each other.

Remmy immediately took Lulu's arm in a firm grip. At first the other woman resisted, but Remmy leaned toward her and began to talk quickly, though none trying to eavesdrop could hear what was said. Long moments passed, and King looked on in amazement as Lulu's features calmed. Even more miraculously, after a few minutes of conversation Lulu reached out and gripped Remmy's arm for support. The two women finished their conversation and started to walk toward King.

Remmy said, "The Oxleys will be joining us at the house. But first I'm going to pay my respects to Junior."

As they walked off, King saw that Mason had collected Priscilla and the children and was leading them down to the Battles' limousine.

"In my seventy-plus years I've never seen anything as strange and inexplicable as that," said Harry, stunned.

As the two women disappeared over the slight rise in the ground, King said to his two companions, "Stay here." He started off at a jog, following the two women.

Junior's grave site had no tent and was far humbler than Bobby Battle's funeral in every other respect. It was Saks versus Kmart, which overlooked the indisputable fact that both men were equally dead.

The only people around were the two men whose task it was to lower the simple wooden casket into the ground and cover it with six feet of fill. King watched from behind a large ornate sculpture of a mother and child that marked a nearby grave as Remmy spoke to the workers, who nodded respectfully and stepped away. The two women knelt on the fake green grass carpet in front of the casket and clasped their hands together in prayer. They remained there for several minutes. When they rose, Remmy went over to the coffin and placed a single red rose on it. Lulu nodded at the men, who came forward once more as the women walked off arm in arm.

King drew farther back as they passed by his hiding place, and watched as they disappeared over the rise. King turned back to Junior's grave. The cemetery workers had headed back to their nearby truck probably to get their shovels. King thought about going over to pay Junior his own last respects. King hadn't known the man very well, but his wife and children obviously loved him very much; every man should leave behind such a legacy. King hadn't seen too many tears at Bobby Battle's interment, costly though it had been.

As he was about to head back, he stopped and ducked farther behind the statue. Someone had flitted out of a nearby patch of trees. This person walked quickly toward the grave, looking nervously all around. There seemed an abundance of guilt in the figure's furtive movements. King couldn't make out who it was or whether it was a man or a woman, since the person's outfit consisted of pants, a coat and a cowboy hat pulled low.

As the person knelt in front of the grave, King crept forward for a better look. And then the hat came off as the person's head bowed in prayer. It looked to be a woman, given the length of the piled-up hair. However, from this angle King couldn't make out the face. Should he walk up and confront the person? But that would give him away as well. He thought some more and then ducked behind the large statue of mother and child once more, picked up a pebble, aimed and sent it sailing toward another large marker about twenty feet to his right and close to Junior's grave. The result was as he'd hoped.

The woman looked up quickly at the sound of the rock hitting the marker, giving King a clear look at her face. She put her hat back on and ran for the cover of the trees.

King had no reason to give chase. He knew who it was.

Yet why would Sally Wainwright, the Battles' horseperson, be praying in front of Junior Deaver's grave?

CHAPTER 50

CASA BATTLE, THOUGH VERY large, was very full. Long linen-covered tables had been set up on the main floor with food and drink. After filling their plates and glasses Harry had led King and Michelle to the second-floor study to talk things over.

He explained, "I don't think we'll be interrupted here. It's far enough away from the food and, more important, the liquor. Death makes people especially thirsty, I've found."

King looked at the antique writing desk against one wall. There were fancy writing instruments, heavy bond paper with the initialsREB on them, a leather ink blotter and several old-fashioned inkwells.

"Even more than me, Remmy is a letter writer from the old school," said Harry, who was watching King. "The lady doesn't believe in e-mails or even typewriters. And she expects missives in kind."

"I'm glad she has the time to communicate that way. I guess that comes with being really rich. I saw Remmy and Lulu go off together when we got here," said King.

"Remmy has a private chamber near her bedroom on the third floor," answered Harry. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall there."