Four and Twenty Blackbirds (Eden Moore 1)

"No. You're looking for Tatie. " She spit the last work out, adding contempt to the pronunciation. Tah-tee, she says it, and even though that's the way it's supposed to be, it sounds like a curse, or something like despair. "You don't really want to find her. You don't really want to go to Macon. "

"Okay," I agreed. "Then maybe I'll go to Highlands Hammock. "

I would almost swear that the blank stare Lulu gave me was genuine. She's a good liar—maybe a better one than I am, but I don't think she's that good. "Where?" she asked, and my confidence faltered. I've been wrong before and bluffed my way free, but if you're wrong with Lulu, you might as well fold. She'll have won before the next words are out of your mouth.

"Highlands—Highlands Hammock. It's in Florida. "

Her forehead did not uncrinkle to hint at enlightenment. "Where in Florida?"

I was forced to confess that I didn't know. "But I've got a map in the car. It can't be that hard to find. "

"Who's in Florida that you think you need to talk to?" Again, I didn't think she was messing with me. If she really knew something about the place that I didn't, she should have gone into politics with that poker face.

Shit. All right, then, it was time to bluff; but once again I didn't know the answer. "Tatie could tell you, if you'd bother to ask her. " Like Mr. Spock used to say, "Never lie when you can misdirect. "

"Tatie would as soon see us dead as tell us anything useful. "

"Sort of like you?" It flew out before I could stop it. Old patterns die so hard. I'll be eighty and she'll be one hundred, and I'll still regress to a wiseass six-year-old when she confronts me.

For a second I honestly thought she might strike me—and that would have been a first—but she held her position and straightened her back. "Nothing like me. That's more unfair than you know. "

"Then tell me why Tatie paid for my mother to be at Pine Breeze. That would be useful, and it would set the two of you apart. "

Disgust clouded her face. She shook her head. "You don't even know what questions to ask. You don't know what's useful and what's not. You're shooting in the dark, firing blind, and you think you're going to wring something out of her?"

"See—that's what I mean. Since you're not talking, I'm going to have to go ask someone else. " I went on with my packing, even though I was all but done. I pulled an extra T-shirt out of a drawer and made a show of unfolding it, then folding it again.

"No. " Lulu's knuckles whitened around the doorjamb. "No, don't go to her. Ask me whatever you want, but don't go there. Not after I've spent so long keeping you away from her. She'll fuck you up if she can. "

I shoved the shirt into the bag and faced her then, full on, no blinking away. "Why did Leslie ask to go to Pine Breeze?"

Lulu leaned against the frame. Her temple pressed against the wood. "She was afraid. "

"Of who? Or what? My father?"

"No. Not your father. " She shook her head, rolling it back and forth on the frame and wearing a pink groove into her skin. "She had him wrapped around one little finger, I think. That's the impression I got, anyway. If anything, she was irritated by him. But not afraid, ever. Not that I know of. "

I believed her. And if I thought she was going to tell the truth, I might as well keep asking, even if it did turn out to be too little too late. "All right then. Who was my father? And I want to hear more than some initial or general Caucasoid appearance you think he might have had. You've gotta know more than that. "

"He was somebody's husband. Beyond that, I don't know. All I know is that he was married, and that his wife was a nut who kept threatening Leslie. I swear to you, baby, that's all I know about him. He had a wife, and she knew about Leslie. She tried to make trouble. "

That may well have explained the nasty letter I'd found. "And that's why she was afraid?" I asked.

"Yes," Lulu affirmed, but her almond-colored eyes veered away from mine. "I think that's it. "

In that quick dash of her glance, she lost me, and I knew for sure that this wasn't going to work. Even if she was telling the truth, it was a slanted version of it—a version that was close enough to falsehood to serve me no purpose. She was right. I didn't know what questions to ask yet, and until I did, I needed to go find someone who didn't know me well enough to lie to me. I reached back for my bag and threw in a pair of sneakers.

"We're done here. I'm going now. "

"And how do you expect to find her?"

Lulu thought she had me, but I'd already thought up an answer to that one. "I bet I can find a phone book. "

She didn't argue. Instead, she reissued her warning. "Don't you go to her. No good could come of it. " She planted her feet apart and stood blocking most of the door. I had a feeling she wasn't half so drunk as I thought she was, but I'd never seen her desperate before and I didn't want to acknowledge her desperation now.

I screwed my courage to the sticking place and slung the bag over my shoulder. "You thinking of stopping me?" I asked with more bravado than I felt. "You'd better not try. 'Cause you can't. "

She didn't take the challenge right away, but she answered me all the same. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. "