Chapter 8: The Study Drawer

On Saturday at noon my stepmother was hosting her Pray for Our Family brunch for fourteen women.

The general and I walked into the front room through the open door.

Ansel wore his dress uniform with four stars on each shoulder.

He walked with the cane, and he walked slowly, so that every head turned to watch him come.

The aide followed with two soldiers.

Lenore stood by the piano with a champagne flute at her chin.

She saw me, and the glass stopped halfway to her mouth.

"Tessa," she said, bright and shrill. "You can't be here. Ladies, this is the girl I told you about."

"I'm here for my mother's things," I said.

"She's a thief," Lenore told the room. "She's unwell. Somebody call the police."

"There are already police involved, ma'am," Ansel said.

His voice was quiet, and every woman in the room put down her fork.

"General Ansel Rourke. Dr. Kincaid is my physician, and she's here at my request."

"General," Lenore said, and her voice slid up half a tone. "We only want what's best for the girl."

"I've seen the video you posted," he said. "I've seen the one the detective has, too. Yours was shorter."

A woman in a green dress took out her phone and then thought better of it and put it away.

"Where is my husband?" Lenore asked, to nobody.

"In his study," a woman by the window said, and then looked sorry she had spoken.

I crossed the room before anyone could stop me.

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