“I’M FINE MELISSA,” her grandmother used her full first name; the only time she’d called her by any name at all in as long as Mel could remember. “In fact, I’m better than I’ve been in years.” She rocked back and forth hard in her rocking chair, adding emphasis to her words.
Given what she was starting to piece together, Mel wasn’t surprised. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I assume it has something to do with last week,” the old lady said, her tone matter of fact.
“Who was here that morning to pick you up? The log book says it was your brother-in-law, Owen, but we both know it wasn’t him.”
“No,” Eunice admitted. “It was Dale Walters. I can’t lie to you. Why, look at you, all in your Sheriff’s uniform. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to vote for you.”
“So, you obv
