Divine Evil

thirty-five years before, lines were dug deep.
    “Mom.”
    “Cameron.” The automatic twitch of fear faded when she remembered Biff wasn't home. When she saw Clare, she lifted a hand to her hair in that universal gesture of feminine embarrassment. “I didn't know you were coming by and bringing company.”
    “This is Clare Kimball.”
    “Yes, I know.” She dredged up her manners and smiled. “I remember you-Jack and Rosemary's girl. And I've seen your picture in magazines. Would you like to come in?”
    “Thank you.”
    They stepped into the living room with its faded furniture, starched doilies, and glossy big-screen TV. Biff had liked to stretch out with a six-pack and watch cop shows and ball games.
    “Sit down.” Jane was nervously wiping her hands on her apron again. “I can make some iced tea.”
    “We don't need any, Mom.” Cam took her restless hands and led her to the sofa. It smelled of
him
, Cam thought, and gritted his teeth.
    “It's no trouble.” She shot Clare an uneasy smile as she sat in a chair across the room. “It's warm today. Humid, too, after that rain.”
    “Mom.” Cam was still holding her hands, gently kneading them. “I need to talk to you.”
    Jane bit her lip. “What's wrong? Something's wrong. You've been fighting with Biff again. It's not right, Cam. It's not right that you fight with him. You should show him respect.”
    “I haven't been fighting with Biff, Mom.” There was no gentle way, he thought. No easy way. “He's dead. We found him this morning.”
    “Dead?” She repeated the word as though she'd never heard it before. “Dead?”
    “It happened sometime last night.” He searched for words of sympathy that wouldn't scald his tongue. “I'm sorry I have to tell you.”
    Slowly, like a doll on a string, she pulled her hands from his and pressed them to her mouth. “You-you killed him. Oh, God, my God. You always said you would.”
    “Mom.” He reached for her, but she jerked away and began to rock. “I didn't kill him,” Cam said flatly.
    “You hated him.” She rocked faster, back and forth, back and forth, her faded eyes on him. “You always hated him. He was harsh with you, I know, but for your own good. For your own good.” She was talking fast, words tumbling over each other as she wrung her hands. “Your daddy and I, we'd spoiled you. Biff could see that. He took care of us. You know he took care of us.”
    “Mrs. Stokey.” Clare went over to sit on the edge of the couch and gather Cam's mother in her arms. “Cam's here to help you. We're both here to help you.”
    While she stroked Jane's hair and murmured, she watched Cam rise and pace to the window. “I'll call Dr. Crampton,” he said.
    “That's a good idea. Why don't you make some tea?”
    “He hated Biff,” Jane Stokey sobbed against Clare's shoulder. “He hated him, but Biff took care of us. What was I to do after Mike died? I couldn't run the farm all alone. I couldn't raise the child alone. I needed someone.”
    “I know.” With her eyes on Cam, Clare continued to rock. Her heart was with him when he walked from the room. “I know.”
    “He wasn't a bad man. He wasn't. I know what people said. I know what they thought, but he wasn't bad. Maybe he liked to drink too much, but a man's entitled.”
    No, Clare thought. No one's entitled to be a drunk, but she continued to rock and soothe.
    “He's dead. How can he be dead? He wasn't sick.”
    “It was an accident,” Clare told her and hoped she wasn't lying. “Cam will explain it to you. Mrs. Stokey, is there someone you'd like me to call?”
    “No.” The tears welled and shimmered as she stared at the wall. “I have no one. I have no one now.”
    “The doctor's on his way,” Cam said as he set a cup and saucer on the coffee table. His face, his eyes were carefully blank. “I need to ask you a couple of questions.”
    “Cam, I don't think-”
    “They need to be asked,” he said, cutting Clare off. If he couldn't be a son to her, he thought, he'd damn well be a cop. “Do you know where Biff went last night?”
    “He went out.” Jane groped in her apron pocket for a tissue. “Down to Frederick, I think. He'd worked hard all day and needed to relax.”
    “Do you know where in Frederick?”
    “Maybe the Am-Vets.” A sudden thought seeped through, and she bit her lip again. “Did he have a car wreck?”
    “No.”
    Clare shot Cam an exasperated look at his dispassionatequestions and answers. “Drink some of