Page 83 of A Rose of Steel
“Yes, I read that in the program at the funeral.”
“But everyone has been so good to her. Neighbors from all over Roble, even Sabine County, coming over bringing food and helping out. Jorianne, her family and Bumper’s friends from when he played for Roble High. They’ve all came and stood by her side.”
“That is really nice,” I said. “I’m sure she appreciates it.”
“She does. But it still so hard for her to wrap her head around, you know?” Gaylon said.
“I can imagine,” I said.
“Just think,” Gaylon said, “last week his friends took him to Lake Charles for his bachelor’s party. And this week we buried him.”
“Lake Charles?” I said, confused. “I thought they went to Las Vegas. To the Golden Nugget.”
“Oh no,” she chuckled. “What? Did you see that picture on Facebook?”
“Yes, I did,” I said, kind of embarrassed. “I don’t have a Facebook account or anything, I just was just trying to get to know him better.”
“Yeah. No. They went to the one in Lake Charles. Had it planned for weeks, and my Aunt Delores said Bumper was so excited.” She smiled at the pleasant memory of her aunt. “They were trying to act as if it was Vegas, trying to make Bumper take the pictures down. You know: “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Apparently that counts for Lake Charles, too.” She laughed. “They didn’t get back until late Friday night. Jori was so upset, worried about him the whole time.”
“Was he sick before he left?” I asked.
Her face went blank, her mouth opened. She titled her head to the side. “He wasn’t sick at all, I thought,” she said, her face twisted in confusion. “Wasn’t that the conclusion thatyoucame to? You said he’d been poisoned at the wedding.”
Way to turn my words around on me, I thought. That finished her conversation with me after that. Her smile and pleasant demeanor disappeared and so did she. She walked off and got into her car and drove away without so much as a wave or backward glance.
Finished pumping the gas, I shook the nozzle and replaced it back onto the pump. I screwed in the cap and slammed the door to the gas compartment. I climbed into the car and blew out a breath.
I certainly hadn’t meant to upset her. I was getting as bad as Auntie in trying to ask questions. I guess I should have phrased it better. She had no reason to know it had been a slow acting poison. Most times you’re poisoned, you die, right then and there. And I’m sure Pogue hadn’t released that information.
I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. I could have kicked myself for being so insensitive.
I checked my GPS and pulled off, my tires screeching behind me.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Delphine Griffith looked like a bird. Round chest, long nose and spindly arms and fingers. Gray haired, she had gentle bright eyes. Round and blue. They reminded me of someone I knew, but I couldn’t figure out who that could be.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hi,” I said and smiled. “I’m Romaine Wilder—”
“Aren’t you Babet’s Romaine?” she asked, barely letting me get my words out.
“Yes,” I said.
“The doctor?” I nodded. “Oh, please come in,” she said.
God bless, Auntie, her popularity could be a big help. I had wondered what I was going to say to Delphine Griffith for her to let me in the door. Now all I needed was a way to get her tell me about the ricin.
“Thank you, Mrs. Griffith,” I said, and walked inside the door.
“Oh, please, call me Delphine,” she said, “Everyone does.”
“Okay, Delphine,” I said.
“Come in. Come in,” she said. “Sit.” She pointed to a chair. “Would you like something to drink? I have tea, juice, coffee. Oh, and bottled water, I know how you young people like bottled water.”
Letting her get me something seemed like the right thing to do. And, I thought, keeping her distracted might make it easier to get information from her.
