Chapter 6: Shift Drink

"Who packed my things?" I asked.

"I had the housekeeper come in special." Libba smiled. "Lawton asked me to make this easy on you."

"Lawton gave me the keys," Clancy said. "Didn't say a word about you."

"Then he forgot. He's had a hard week."

She glanced past me at the open closet.

At the bare hangers.

Nothing in her face moved at all.

"Where's the jewelry, Libba?" I said.

"In the bank. Lawton had it appraised and put away years ago. It upset him to see it."

"Which bank?"

"The family office handles that."

"Then you'll know which bank."

She held my eyes for a long second.

Then she turned to the movers.

"Take these wherever Mrs. Kershaw is staying. I believe it's an oyster bar."

"I'll take them myself," I said.

I walked down the stairs past Mariel's portrait and out the front door.

Clancy carried both suitcases behind me, banging them on every step on purpose.

Lawton came by Sallie's at seven that night.

He'd been back to the boatyard, and then to the house.

"I stood in her closet for an hour," he said quietly, at the end of the bar. "I don't know what I was waiting for."

"Did you look at the release?"

"It looks like her handwriting. Close enough to fool a yard." He rubbed his face. "Not close enough to fool me."

He didn't stay long.

I didn't ask him to.

That week I moved into the room over the bar for good.

Sallie gave me two drawers and half the closet and a hot plate.

I hung my mother's recipe cards on the wall with thumbtacks.

I learned the regulars by their drinks.

The old shrimper with the bad hip drank Pabst and tipped in quarters.

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