The table held a stainless-steel bowl, a rolling pin, and a lump of dough large enough to sink a beluga. Six bread pans waited in a line on the counter.
“Please.” Winging an elbow outward, using the inside of the other to brush errant curls from her forehead. “I’m sorry about the mess.”
Ramsey and I dragged a bench from under the table and settled, one at each end. Saffron slid a book down the one opposite and sat. Dozer watched, eyes rolling with the action, head never leaving his mat.
“Teilhard de Chardin.” I began my always-engaging warm-up.
At first Katalin looked confused. Then her smile broadened. “You noticed the plaque in the dining room. Do you know him?”
“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” The only quote I could dredge up by the French priest-philosopher.
“Yes. That’s one of my favorites.”
While Katalin kneaded, Ramsey began. At the mention of River, the rolling and punching increased in intensity.
“We are so very sorry for your loss,” I jumped in. “I can’t imagine the pain of losing an infant.”
“It was nature’s will.”
“SIDS.”
“Yes.”
“Can you elaborate?” As gently as I could.
“River died in his sleep. What is there to say?”
Noting movement across the table, I stole a glance at Saffron. Her body was tense, her eyes fixed on her mother’s face.
“Was a physician involved?”
“The baby was dead, so the coroner was called. No need for a doctor.”
“Do you know who that coroner was?”
“No.” Knuckle-punching the dough. To Ramsey, “You’re the one who phoned. You talked to Joel.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Joel is at his studio. He won’t be happy that you’re here.”
“We won’t stay long.” A beat, then, “You and your husband were members of the Jesus Lord Holiness church at the time, is that correct?”
“We attended briefly.”
“Why that church?”
“Joel and I believe there is more to existence than worldly concerns.”
“Why did you leave?”
She paused. Again used the inside of her elbow to brush hair from her face.
“We thought spiritual fulfillment might best come from ancient ritual, from people seeking personal engagement with forces existing on a higher plane.” Back to the bread. “We tried Jesus Lord Holiness. It wasn’t for us. Now we belong to the Unitarian church. Its principles align more closely with our current worldview.”
“And that would be?”
She answered slowly, prefacing each sentence with a series of jabs to the dough.
“We believe that all humans are welcome at the table of God’s love and fellowship. That the divisions that separate us are artificial, that all souls are one. We don’t focus on an afterlife, strict doctrine, or a written creed. We express our faith through acts of justice and compassion.”
I wasn’t sure if she was summarizing Unitarian beliefs or those of Joel and herself. But it sounded more reasonable than hellfire and speaking in tongues.
“What can you tell me about Granger Hoke?” Ramsey asked.
“Father G.” Katalin lifted, then dropped the dough. “No comment.”
“Did you know Mason Gulley?”
“Only to say hello.”
“Your impression?”
“He was a sad young man.”
“Cora Teague was your nanny?”
Across the table, Saffron’s little shoulders hiked up sharply.
Katalin reached out to her daughter. “It’s okay, baby.”
“Do you remember Cora?” I asked the child gently.
Saffron whipped to face her mother, eyes wide with alarm. “Why are they asking about Cora?”
“She’s missing,” I said gently. “Deputy Ramsey and I are trying to find her.”
“Will she come to our house, Mommy?” So shrill Dozer shot to his feet.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Which one, Mommy?” Saucer eyes probing her mother’s. “Which one?”
“Come here.”
Saffron flew from the bench and fired around the table.
Katalin hugged then released her daughter, leaving two white handprints on the girl’s back. Cupping the small chin, she said, “I want you to take Dozer out into the yard. Can you do that for me?”
A solemn nod, then the child skittered off, the dog on her heels.
“That was a very strong reaction,” I said.
“Saffron feels things deeply.”
“Still.”
“She doesn’t like Cora Teague.”
“Do you know why?” Skimming a glance at Ramsey.
“When Saffron was three she broke her wrist falling from her tricycle. Cora was with her at the time. I suspect she unconsciously associates the pain with the person.”
“Has she talked about the incident?”
“We try to focus on happy things.”
“How did Cora explain the accident?”
“Explanations.” Something flickered in Katalin’s eyes, there in the blue, then gone. “It doesn’t matter if the water is cold or warm if you’re going to have to wade through it anyway.”
“Also Teilhard de Chardin?”
She nodded.
“Was he the reason you tried Catholicism?”
“Perhaps.” She pointed an elbow at the empty bread pans. “I’m sorry. I have deliveries due by noon.”
Ramsey and I followed her to the front door. We were on the porch when her words made us pause.
“There was a pillow in the crib.” I turned. Katalin was looking not at us but at something off in the distance. Perhaps off in time.
“With River,” I guessed.
She nodded.
“I never put a pillow in his crib.” Almost a whisper.
“Did you tell someone?” I asked.
The deep indigo eyes swung to me, so filled with pain the connection felt like a blow. “Father G.”
“What did he say?”
“Beware of sinners bearing false witness.”
Ramsey’s cell buzzed as we were descending the steps. He checked the screen, then tossed me the keys.
I unlocked the SUV and got in. While he stood outside and talked, I scrolled through email on my iPhone. Trying not to appear curious, but covertly watching.
Ramsey’s body language was, for him, animated. Shifted weight. A hip-planted hand. A cocked chin. I wondered if the call was business or personal. Either way, it was not going well.
For the first time I considered the deputy’s private life. Aunt Ruby had said her nephew needed a girlfriend. That he’d come from Georgia and that his marriage had ended badly. He had a dog. Beyond those few details, I knew nothing.
One email was from Larabee. As I opened and read it, Ramsey clipped the cell to his belt and strode toward the car. He wasn’t smiling.
“Sorry.” He started the engine but didn’t shift into drive.
“Just got word from my chief,” I said. “The Avery County coroner who would have handled both the Eli Teague and River Brice deaths was a guy named Fenton Ogilvie. He died in 2012.”
“Right. He’d just passed when I joined the department. A retired ambulance driver.” Ramsey gave a small shake of his head. “They found him at the bottom of an elevator shaft. Apparently Ogilvie was quite a character.”
“Meaning?”
“No point in speaking ill of the dead. But the guy seems to be remembered for two accomplishments. Keeping himself perpetually drunk, and cultivating one colossally cirrhotic liver.”
“And the elevator thing.”
“And that.” A few thumb-taps to the wheel. “Your comment about Cora Teague’s absenteeism got me thinking. I pulled the date from Eli’s death certificate, then called Avery High. Cora was out for six weeks after the kid died.”
“The death of a sibling would be traumatic.”
“Six weeks?”
“That is a lot.”
“I also got the name of Cora’s doctor.”
“The school kept it on file?”