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In one the recently deceased held a chubby baby.

“Josie.”

“Yes.”

“I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m trying to tell myself he’s with God. But I want him to be with me.” As she spoke, she rubbed circles over the lump of her belly. “I was just thinking how busy we all were today, getting ready for tonight, and how little time I had with him. How I was doing something or other this afternoon, and I thought: ‘Oh, I have to talk to Daddy, and tell him how Jilly—my little girl—how she printed her name today, and got all the letters right.’ But I didn’t get the chance. Now I won’t.”

“Josie, did you put the water bottles onstage?”

“Yes. Seven of them. Three for each half, and one extra. He usually only went through the six, but we always put out seven, in case. On the table behind the drop.”

“The drop?”

“Curtain. See, the singers open, upstage, then when Mama and Daddy come in, they lift the curtain. The table’s there, behind it.”

“When did you put them out?”

“Ah, about fifteen minutes before his cue, I think. Not much before that.”

“When did you put the vodka in?”

She flushed, pink as her mother’s dress. “Maybe an hour or so before. Please don’t tell Mama.”

“She knows. She understands.”

“You got the bottle in his dressing room?”

“That’s right.”

She wiped at fresh tears with her fingers. “He wasn’t in—sometimes he is, and we’d talk a little while I fixed his bottles. If I was doing it. And we’d joke. He liked a good joke. Then I’d take them back to my dressing room. My sisters and I sing, too. We’d perform in the second half with Mama, and at the end, with the Eternal Lights, Mama, and Daddy.”

“Did you see anyone around your father’s dressing room?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There are so many of us. I saw some of the crew going here and there, and the wardrobe mistress—Kammi—she came in with Daddy’s suit as I was leaving, and some of the tech crew were here and there. I wasn’t paying attention, Miss Dallas. I was thinking how I wanted to get back to the dressing room with my sisters, and stretch out for a few minutes.” Her hands moved over her belly again. “I get tired easy these days.”

“Okay, let’s try this. Did you see anything or anyone out of place?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Eve pushed to her feet. “Detective Peabody’s going to finish up, then she’ll take you to your mother.” Eve started to the door, stopped, turned back. “You said how busy you all were today. Did your father spend the day here, rehearsing?”

“Oh, no. We all had breakfast this morning, at the home where we’re staying. And morning prayer. Then the kids have school. My sister Jackie and Merna—that’s who helps out with the kids—taught today. Mama came down first, to meet with Kammi, and with Foster, who does our hair. Mama is very hands-on with the wardrobe, the hair, and makeup. Daddy went out for his walk and meditation.”

“When?”

“Oh . . . around noon, I guess. No, closer to eleven.”

“With his bodyguard?”

Josie bit her lip. “I forgot, that’s one of those things like the vodka. Daddy sometimes gives Clyde an hour or two off, and he sort of lets Clyde think he’ll be staying in, working. But he just wants to get outside and walk and think, on his own.”

“So your father was out on his own, walking and thinking, from around eleven to . . .”

“I’m not sure, because most of us went on before one, to rehearse, and to check with Mama on the wardrobe and so on.”

“Everyone was here at one?”


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