"Detective Weathers, this is Maggie Reid. Sheila's run off with her boyfriend, to Holden Beach, and I think she intends to get married, maybe in Myrtle Beach. She's underage, as you well know, and I don't like this guy. He's been arrested before, but I guess you know that. Can you call down there? Do you know anyone? I'm heading down there, but I don't know if I'll make it in time." I was running out of time and breath. "Oh, shoot, I know what. Never mind, I'll page you."

I hung up and dug deep in my jeans pocket for his card. "If you need me, page me," he'd said. I needed him. I punched in the number, waited for the series of beeps, and then punched in Vernell's cell phone number. I hesitated for a second, then punched in 911. "That oughta get you," I said to the lifeless phone, and ran out of the house.

Vernell was still sitting in the middle of the street, the Jesus satellite dish spinning around like a dancing girl on top of his truck. When he saw me, he gunned the engine and motioned for me to hurry.

"What'd you take so long for?" he asked.

"You got your cell phone on?"

Vernell gave me a "Do you really take me for an idiot?" look, and pointed to the cell phone that lay on the seat between us. A green light winked on and off. "Of course," he said. "I am never out of communication." He meant he was never off Jolene's leash, but I didn't say a word.

Lying under the phone was an assortment of papers and junk. A thick white envelope with a Flatiron and Scruggs, Attorneys at Law, return address caught my eye.

"Vernell," I said, pulling the envelope out from under the phone. "Aren't these Jimmy's lawyers?"

Vernell looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, technically, they're the attorneys for the business, but he used them to do his estate stuff, too."

"So, is this about Jimmy's estate?" I asked.

Vernell looked over at the envelope and changed the subject. "Let's not talk business," he said. "Not at a time like this, limes like this make me remember what we had, Maggie,"

"Vernell," I cautioned. But it was too late. We were headed out of town on Highway 220, in a fluorescent orange panel truck, with Jesus dancing on top of our heads, trying to save Sheila from a fate worse than death, and Vernell was choosing this moment to get nostalgic.

"Maggie, face facts. Jolene don't love me. She thinks I'm a withered up old man, made of money." I looked over at him, and was surprised to see that Vernell Spivey was actually crying. Tears ran down his weather-toughened cheeks.

"Oh, Vernell," I said, "now that just can't be so. She married you. She chased up after you for years." The words were hollow comfort, and I knew it as well as he did. Vernell had driven his ducks to bad market and they were coming home to roost.

My fingers picked at the envelope in my hands, bringing my attention back to it.

"Is this a copy of Jimmy's will?" I asked.

"No." He moaned. "She never did love me. Even Jimmy knew that. He tried to warn me right before he died." Vernell was milking this act, I could tell from the way he kept casting nervous little looks over at the envelope. He was trying to lead me away from the envelope, like a papa bird leading a cat away from the nest.

"Well, is it?" I asked.

"Is it true?" he said. "I don't know. I only have what Jimmy said to go on, and Lord knows he was jealous to beat the band."

"Vernell, answer me. Is this Jimmy's will?"

"Jimmy always said she wanted me for my money. Said she'd crawl up my back with spikes to get to the next best thing. Bleed me dry, is what he said. Jimmy done told me, I walked out on the best woman in the world and I-"

"Vernell, I'm gonna look for myself!" I lifted the flap and pulled out the sheaf of papers that filled it.

"Maggie! I'm trying to talk to you!" he said. "Don't you have a lick of respect for other people's privacy?"

I didn't listen; instead, I read the enclosed letter. Vernell had asked for a copy of the will. He wanted to contest it, the snake!

Highlighted in yellow were all the parts of the document pertaining to the business, including my name and Sheila's. Roxanne had been given a life insurance policy and set up with a trust fund which would dole out money monthly. Jimmy had signed over his portion of the satellite dish business to Vernell, so the lawyers seemed to feel Vernell couldn't do a thing about it. It was signed and witnessed, all legal and binding.

"Maggie," Vernell said, "it wasn't nothing personal."

I didn't even look at him. I was afraid I'd hit him if I saw that pitiful look he always wore when he knew he was in deep trouble with me. I stared at the will, forcing myself to concentrate on the paper. Signed and sealed, all good and proper. Bertie Sexton had notarized it, and Sheila's Keith and Don Evans had witnessed it, so Jimmy must've signed it in his office.

"Now, Maggie, honey, don't be mad."

I looked up at him. "Why should I be mad, Vernell? Because you want me to believe that you think you've made a terrible mistake leaving me? You can't break the will, so you want to con me into coming back to you? I don't think so, Vernell. I really don't."

"Honey, Jolene's the one started this whole mess. She called the attorney. Said we needed to make sure of our rights, and little Sheila's, too. I mean, what if Roxanne was to contest the will? And what if something was to happen to you, God forbid? I'd have to look out for Sheila's interests. She'd inherit the whole forty-nine percent. Lord." Vernell whistled. "Cain't you just see her, eighteen and loaded? You think that closet's full now!"

"So Jolene's behind it, huh? I don't buy for a New York minute that she had Sheila's best interests at heart." In fact, little pieces of the puzzle were all starting to come together in my head.

"Maggie! I can't believe you would think such a thing as that!" Vernell said, but his words were wasted. The cell phone began to chirp and we both grabbed for it.

Vernell snatched it out of my hands. "Give me that! What if it's Jolene?"

"What do you care, Vernell?" I said sarcastically. "She's just a big mistake!" Vernell put the receiver to his ear and leaned away from me, causing the truck to lurch across two lanes of highway.

"Vernell!" I hissed. "Pay attention!"

"Hello, sugar," he cooed into the receiver. "Hey, who is this?" he said, his voice shifting angrily. "Oh!" Vernell was all cooperation now that he knew it was the cops. "Yes, Officer, she's right here. I'll put her on. You have a good evening, now, y'hear?"

Vernell glared over at me as he shoved the phone into my hand and whispered, "Why didn't you tell me you gave a cop my number?"

"And when could I have gotten a word in edgewise?" I hissed back.

"Hello?"

"Maggie Reid?" I didn't recognize the voice and my heart lurched. Where was Weathers?

"Yes," I answered.

"Maggie, it's Bobby, Marshall Weathers's partner."

"Oh, hey, Bobby." His voice was tinny and faraway sounding.

"Listen, Marshall got your message and your page, but he's out of town. He asked me to call and see what you needed."

Well, I wasn't going to tell him. It was one thing to ask Marshall Weathers for a favor; but it was another thing again to ask an almost total stranger.

"When's he coming back, Bobby?"

"Well, I don't know for sure." Bobby's voice had taken on a formal, "I can't talk about police business" tone that I knew all too well from Weathers.

"Well," I hedged, "it can wait awhile, Bobby. I didn't mean to trouble him."

"Well, Maggie, you punched nine-one-one in after your number…"

I decided to play dumb. "I'm sorry, Bobby. My daughter ran off to Holden Beach with her boyfriend, and I panicked. But I know where she is now and I've got it all under control. I'm on my way there with her daddy. We've got it covered."