Chapter 16: Breakfast at Dot's

I read Gavin's text twice, standing in Ward's shirt in the gray light.

Then I typed back, "Tell the police first. Not the room. Take a lawyer."

He answered in under a minute.

"I'm already outside the station."

Ward was sitting up in bed with his hair flat on one side.

"He's going to the police," I said.

"Good," Ward said, and reached for his glasses. "Now put on something with sleeves, because Dot is awake."

"How do you know?"

"The kitchen light just came on, and she's singing."

I crossed the wet grass at seven in yesterday's green dress and my own sandals, with my shoes in my hand.

Dot stood at the stove in a pink robe, humming a hymn over a skillet.

On the table sat biscuits, grits, a plate of bacon and a pitcher of orange juice, set for three.

"Good morning, baby," she said, without turning around.

"Good morning, Aunt Dot."

"Sleep well?"

"I slept fine."

"Bandit didn't. He sat on the carriage house roof till three in the morning, yowling at the moon."

"The cat has opinions," I said.

"The cat has excellent instincts," Dot said, and flipped a biscuit onto my plate.

"I know a good man when one walks across my yard in his socks."

The back door opened, and Ward came in, shaved and buttoned, with the face of a man walking into court.

"Morning, Dot."

"Doctor." She pointed the spatula at the chair. "Sit. Eat. You look like you ran a marathon."

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