Jazz Funeral

and just let myself in, as usual. But he and Patty were yelling so loud they didn’t hear me.” Patty, not Mother.
    “I heard my name, so I tiptoed down the hall and listened. He was trying to get her to do something, I guess—it must have been about selling the business. They had this offer that they were all fighting over. Patty had a vote, but she always took my father’s side. He didn’t want to sell, but I guess Ham did. I know he’d put a lot of his money into Second Line Square and he’d lent a lot to Ti-Belle. I guess he needed the sale because he needed money.” She shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had several days to try to piece it together, and that’s what it must have been. I guess she refused and he threatened her—and that’s about where I came in. He said he’d tell Dad and he’d tell me. About—you know. But then, I didn’t know. That’s why I listened.
    “I couldn’t believe what he said. I couldn’t forget it, though: ‘What would Melody think if she knew I was her father?’” She closed her eyes and shook her head.
    “I still don’t believe it. Do you know how it is when you’ve thought one thing all your life—the most basic thing, the simplest thing—and that thing isn’t true? Your world’s upside down— nothing is right. You just can’t figure anything out. And then there was Blair and Flip and all—I just didn’t have a life anymore. I had to leave. I don’t believe what a baby I was. How innocent.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because when I left, I thought that was the worst thing that could happen to me.”
    She must have awakened the next day to the news that her brother was dead and known then that her mother was the murderer—and that she was the only witness.
    “You poor kid.”
    Melody looked away, embarrassed.
    “What happened when you heard all that? Did you say anything?”
    “I jumped her. Just like I did this morning.” She shook her head again—this was something else that wouldn’t sink in. “I tried to kill my own mother. Twice.”
    Her lawyer started: “Melody!”
    “Why did you stop?”
    “Ham pulled me off and I ran out of the house. Didn’t think, just ran. I had to get the hell out.”
    “Did you hear anything else?”
    “No. Well, maybe. It might have been my imagination.”
    “What?”
    “I thought I heard a scream.”
    “Patty screamed?”
    “No, Ham, I thought.”
    “Did he say anything?”
    “No. Just yelled, like …”
    “Like what?”
    “Well, I guess … I mean I thought later … I guess that’s when she did it.”
    Skip tried to keep her face impassive. She couldn’t say “poor kid” again. “And that was all?”
    “I just kept running.”
    “Okay, let’s stop for now. Your dad can take you home.”
    “I can go?”
    She sighed. She’d gotten through the interview fine. For the first time she looked frightened. “What am I going back to?”
    It was the moan of a motherless child.
    Skip went to get Patty. “Is George still here?”
    “He took Melody home. But your lawyer’s waiting for us.” Gray Renegar was one of the best criminal lawyers in the state. George was nothing if not a good provider.
    Patty sighed. “George’ll be unhappy. He doesn’t like Gray’s advice.”
    Skip wondered what she meant. As they made their way to the interview room where they’d meet Renegar, Patty said, “I’m sorry I shot you. I guess I went a little crazy.”
    A more accomplished southerner than she, Skip thought, would come up with a polite reply. She couldn’t.
    When they reached their destination and everyone was seated. Skip said, “Do you understand your rights?”
    Patty nodded. “I want to waive them.”
    “What?” She stared at Renegar, who spoke automatically to Patty.
    “I have to advise you against that.”
    “George wants me to.”
    “Patty, has it occurred to you that you and George might have a conflict in this thing? I’m your lawyer and I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut.”
    Patty looked surprised, apparently unused to such talk. She said, “He’s right, Gray. I want to plead guilty. If I stand trial, Melody will have to testify. Neither of us wants that.”
    What do you know—a shred of maternal feeling. Or is she just mouthing George’s words?
    The latter , Skip thought. Definitely the latter. She felt oddly let down. She’d expected more of a fight. But she could hear Melody’s words of a few minutes before, now metaphorically fraught: Patty had a vote, but