Leigh’s throat tightened.
Walter saved her from having to respond. “Dr. Jerry, that Chevy of yours is a classic. Do you mind showing it to me?”
“That would be my pleasure, young man.” Dr. Jerry let Walter take his arm. “Tell me, have you ever been punched in the face by an octopus?”
“Fuck me .” Phil leaned back in her chair. “Old guy’s got the dementia. Moving up to Oregon with Antifa or some shit like that.”
“Shut up, Mother.” Leigh peeled off her mask. She searched her purse for a tissue.
“She was my daughter, you know,” Phil shouted at Leigh across Callie’s grave. “Who took care of her? Who did she always come home to?”
“Walter will pick up the cat tomorrow.”
“Stupid Cunt?”
Leigh was startled, but then she laughed. “Yes, Stupid Cunt will be living at my house. It’s what Callie wanted.”
“Well, fuck.” Phil looked more upset about losing the cat than she’d been when Leigh had told her about Callie. “That’s a damn good cat. I hope you know what you’re getting.”
Leigh blew her nose.
“You know, I’m gonna tell you this.” Phil stuck her hands into her hips. “The problem with you and your sister was that Callie couldn’t stop looking back and you were always so goddam desperate to keep looking forward.”
Leigh hated that she was right. “I think the bigger problem was that we had an incredibly shitty mother.”
Phil’s mouth opened, but then it snapped closed. Her eyes had gone wide. She was looking past Leigh’s shoulder as if a ghost had appeared.
Leigh turned. Worse than a ghost.
Linda Tenant was leaning against a black Jaguar. A cigarette dangled from her mouth. She was wearing the same pearls and popped collar, but her shirt was long-sleeved for the cooler weather. The last time Leigh had seen Andrew’s mother, they were sitting around the conference table in Cole Bradley’s private office talking about how to defend her son.
“We should—” Leigh stopped, because Phil was hot-stepping in the opposite direction. “Thanks, Mom.”
Leigh took a deep breath. She started the long walk toward Andrew’s mother. Linda was still leaning against the Jag. Her arms were crossed. She was clearly here to ambush Callie’s funeral. Leigh recognized the brazen act as something she would’ve done herself. The woman’s son and daughter-in-law had been murdered. Never mind that Ruby Heyer’s family along with Tammy Karlsen and Andrew’s three other victims would never see justice. Linda Tenant wanted an explanation.
Leigh still wasn’t going to provide one, but she owed Linda the courtesy of giving her someone to scream at.
Linda flicked her cigarette into the grass as Leigh got closer. “How old was she?”
Leigh hadn’t been expecting the question, but she guessed they had to start somewhere. “Thirty-seven.”
Linda nodded. “So she was eleven when she started working for me.”
“Twelve,” Leigh said. “One year younger than me when I started.”
Linda fished a pack of cigarettes out of her khakis. She shook one out. Her hand was steady on the lighter. She hissed a plume of smoke into the air. There was something so angry about her that Leigh didn’t know whether Linda was going to rail at her or run her over with her car.
She did neither of these things. Instead, she told Leigh, “You cleaned up.”
Leigh looked down at her black dress, which was a far cry from the jeans and Aerosmith T-shirt she’d worn that first night. She asked rather than said, “Thank you?”
“I’m not talking about your outfit.” Linda made a jerky movement as she pulled the cigarette from her lips. “You girls were always tidy, but you never cleaned like that.”
Leigh shook her head. She heard the words, but they didn’t make sense.
“That kitchen floor was shining when I got home from the hospital.” Linda took another angry drag. “And the bleach was so strong that my eyes watered.”
Leigh felt her mouth open in surprise. She was talking about the Canyon Road house. After they’d gotten rid of the body, Callie had gotten on her knees to scrub the floors. Leigh had scoured the sinks. They had vacuumed and dusted and wiped down counters and shined doorknobs and baseboards and neither of them had ever once considered that Linda Waleski would come home from work and wonder why they had deep-cleaned her normally damp, dirty house.
“Huh,” Leigh said, hearing echoes of Callie when she didn’t know what to say.