Down Home and Deadly

do?”
    She shrugged and stuck her hand in the cool fountain water. “I guess we’re not going to do anything. We’re kind of at an impasse.”
    My heart ached so much for her, but even Dear Pru had no wise answer for her. I stood and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be praying for you.”
    She nodded. “Thanks.”
    *****
    Dear Pru,
    My husband has found someone else , and we’re in the process of getting a divorce. We have a four - year - old daughter, and he wants joint custody where she will stay with me through the week and spend weekends with him. His values are very different from mine, which is one reason for the divorce. Should I agree to these conditions? If so, how can I be sure my little girl will continue to believe what I believe to be right from wrong?
    Concerned Mother
    *****
    Dear Mom,
    You may not have a choice in the custody arrangements. Teach your child your values by living them as well as stating them. Refrain from bad - mouthing your ex, especially in front of your daughter. And pray a lot.
    *****
    After the funeral, I headed home and changed into my oldest T -shirt and capris. I had the rest of the day off , and I knew just what I needed. Two hours with a good book and my deck chair. Some sun, some shade , and maybe even a little nap.
    I reached for my book from the shelf and recoiled as I saw the tiny flip phone. I’d stopped short of putting a blue label with D ebbie on it, but I had put it out of the way so I’d quit getting it confused with mine. But how long was I going to keep it? I picked it up instead of the book and ran my finger over the shiny surface.
    I hadn’t counted on how conflicted I’d feel about Debbie’s phone once I decided that Lisa definitely hadn’t known about Debbie and J.D.’s “friendship.” If I turned it in, they’d surely arrest Lisa, because if they had the weapon and the towel with J.D.’s blood on it, all they needed was motive. If I didn’t turn it in, the guilt was going to eat me alive.
    I groaned inwardly. Why hadn’t I left this silver burden with Debbie that day on her porch? Sometimes I reminded myself of that obnoxious eight-year-old at every pool across America . You know, the one who feels she’s responsible for everybody’s well - being and can’t even enjoy swimming for the weight of the responsibility. “Mama! Timmy’s getting close to the deep end. Katie’s not wearing her floaties . . . . Debbie threw evidence in the trash.”
    I started to put the phone back on the shelf then stopped. Getting rid of this once and for all would relax me more than lazing around in the backyard.
    “Sorry, big guy,” I murmured to Mr. Persi who had started scampering through the house as soon as he saw me change into my yard clothes. “I’ll be back in a few minutes , and we’ll do it then.” I glanced down at the faded jean capris and my 2004 National League Champs Cardinals shirt. I looked bad enough that I wouldn’t purposely go to the store but not so bad that I’d hide in the floorboard if I had car trouble and needed help. “I won’t even change clothes,” I told the golden retriever. “We’ll play as soon as I get back.”
    Neuro gave the dog a pitying look. I could imagine her saying, “Are you really buying this?”
    I rubbed my hand across the cat’s head. “I mean it. You could go outside , too , if you wanted to.”
    She jumped down, her tail high , and ran to the living room. She preferred the coolness of her window perch where she could watch us romp but still be completely pampered and comfortable.
    I smiled. Who was I to question how Lisa and Larry fawned over Fluffy? I talked to my pets and filled in the blanks in their parts of the conversation.
    At the thought of Lisa and her Fluffy being separated forever by jail bars, I snatched my car keys from the hook and ran out to the car.
    Debbie answered the door, still wearing her black dress.
    Since she had less motive than Lisa for murdering J.D., I’d decided to take my chances. “May I come in?”
    She stepped back , and I walked into the tiny living room. It was neat and clean. Incredibly clean. From the way Debbie had been acting at work, I’d imagined empty wrappers and bottles lying around.
    She saw my glance and apparently realized what I was thinking. “I clean when I’m upset.”
    I nodded. That would explain the vacuum marks still on the couch.
    I shoved the phone into her hand. “I can’t keep this.”
    She looked down at it and dropped it.
    It