Tribute

hers never had a good word to say to anybody around here. Shouting or shaking his fist at kids for playing too loud, or telling people to mind their own if they offered a helping hand. Me, I’d’ve left him after the boy died, but she stuck. Could be she’s taken off now he’s locked up, but more likely, she’s gone down to Petersburg. Don’t know if anybody’s looked at the house yet. I’m going to hope somebody buys it who knows how to be neighborly.”
    It was a haul to Petersburg and back, Ford considered. “I guess you’d have noticed if she moved out. I mean, furniture, luggage.”
    “Might have, if I was home.” She gave Ford a harder measure from under the wide brim of her hat. “You’re not kin to them, are you?”
    “No, ma’am.”
    “Well, I can tell you I haven’t seen her or heard a peep out of the house for days now. In fact, I’ve taken to watering what flowers she put in. I can’t stand to watch something die of neglect.”
    CILLA TRIED to take a page out of Ford’s book and look at the bright side. The bright side could be that a defaced doll in the mailbox did no damage to her property. It cost her nothing but time and stress.
    A bright side could be the police took the whole ugly business very seriously. True, they’d had no luck tracing any of the dolls so far, not when they were sold regularly on eBay or in secondhand and specialty shops, or could have been taken out of someone’s personal collection. But it brought her a measure of comfort to know the police were doing whatever the hell the police did.
    And her crew was pissed off on her behalf. Having people in your corner, even if it was only to express outrage and support, was always a bright side.
    Plus her new countertops and backsplash kicked serious ass. That knocked her level of stress down several notches. The streaks and specks of warm gold, flecks of black and white against rich chocolate brown set off her cabinets. And, Jesus , her copper hardware would just pop. She’d been right, so absolutely right, to go for the waterfall edging. She couldn’t believe how long and hard she’d stressed over that. It gave the counters such presence, such authority.
    Cilla ran her hand over the island as she might a lover’s warm, naked flesh, and all but purred.
    “Pretty dark, especially with this half acre of the stuff you’ve got in here.”
    Cilla merely looked over, tipped her head and spoke in the tone she’d use to a naughty little boy. “Buddy.”
    His lips twisted, but the attempt to defeat the smile failed. “I guess it looks all right. Cabinets are nice, anyway. Got a forest of them in here, but having the glass fronts on some breaks it up a little. I’ll get your sinks mounted. Be back tomorrow after they’ve cured to hook up the plumbing, the dishwasher and the faucets. Don’t know why anybody’d want copper for faucets.”
    “I’m just crazy that way.”
    “Crazy some way. Are you going to help me mount these sinks, or just stand around looking like the canary-eating cat?”
    While they worked on the first undermount, Buddy whistled through his teeth. A few bars in, Cilla caught herself humming with him.
    “‘I’ll Get By,’” Cilla said. “My grandmother’s signature song.”
    “Guess the mind wanders to her in here. Got that clamp on there?”
    “It’s on.”
    “Let’s test the fit then. Second time I put a sink in this place.”
    “Really?”
    “Put in the one you’re replacing for your grandmother. That’s been going on forty, forty-five years, I expect. Probably time for a new. That’s right, that’s right,” he murmured. “That’s a good fit. That’s a good one.” He marked the location for the mounting clips.
    “Let’s lift her out.”
    Cilla gripped the two-by-four clamped to the sink. “You and your father did a lot of the work around here back then.”
    “Still got plenty.”
    “You did a lot for Andrew Morrow.”
    “That’s a fact. We did all the plumbing for Skyline Development. Thirty-three houses,” he said, taking out his drill. “That job made it so I could buy one of those houses. Lived there thirty-seven years come October. A lot of people got their homes because of Drew Morrow. I’ve fixed the johns in most of them.”
    AFTER THE TWO sinks were mounted, Cilla went outside to hunt up her father. She’d kept him off the scaffolding that morning, conning him into “doing her a favor” and painting her shutters.
    It looked as if he was having as