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differently. She tends to react physically, sometimes fainting dead away which may or may not have happened on this occasion. I, on the other hand, remove myself mentally from the situation. Sister describes my reaction as taking little trips. And I guess I do. After I put the soup in the refrigerator, I sat at a table that folded down from the wall and on which I assumed Meemaw and Sunshine had been playing checkers on a worn board. Some of the checkers were lost, and they had substituted corn and pebbles. I looked away from the sad unfinished game and thought about the white sale Sears was having and how it was a strange time to have a white sale which should be in January. August was the time for back-to-school sales. But maybe kids going off to school needed towels and things.
    “Sunshine?” Meemaw called weakly.
    I continued my musing. A couple of down pillows would be nice. They cost an arm and a leg, so you have to get them on sale. It would be a nice surprise for Fred, though. And maybe a new bedspread for the middle bedroom. A flowered one?
    Sister sat up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
    Meemaw pointed toward what I had assumed was a small pantry. “But maybe Sunshine’s in there.”
    “Open the door, Mouse, and see,” Sister said. “You’re closer.”
    My vision of Sears’ white sale evaporated. There was no way I was going to open that bathroom door. “You open it.”
    “I swear,” Meemaw said, looking around. “I wasn’t gone more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.” She struggled to her feet and opened the bathroom door. “It’s empty.”
    Sister got up and managed to squeeze in. Years of plane travel helped, I’m sure.
    “Maybe Sunshine’s asleep,” Meemaw said, walking back to the bedroom area. Fat chance anyone could have slept through a murder or through our screaming. I held my breath until she turned around and said, “No, she’s not here.” One dead body in that trailer was one too many.
    I forced myself to look down at the man. He was smaller than average with dark hair and olive skin. He was dressed neatly, though warmly for such a hot day, in a gray suit, white dress shirt, and a red-and-gray-striped tie; polished cordovan shoes splayed outward, showing the tops of black silk socks. There was surprisingly little blood on the white shirt. Apparently the hog-butchering knife had gone straight in and was, in effect, sealing the wound. Or—oh, God—was it possible that the knife had gone all the way through the man’s body? That he was impaled to the floor?
    That thought did me in. Not even Sears’ white sale could save me.
    “I’ve got to get out of here right now,” I said, heading for the door.
    “Grab a stick,” Meemaw said.
    “Those dogs better not come near me.”
    “I’m right behind you,” Sister said, stepping out of the bathroom, still pulling up her crumpled white linen slacks.
    “See if you see Sunny,” Meemaw called as we dived for the car. Not a single dog even looked up.
    The car was burning-up hot, but Sister and I both had the shakes so bad, it felt good. We huddled on the warm leather of the front seat, our teeth clicking like castanets.
    “Who the hell do you suppose he is?” Sister asked.
    “No idea.”
    “And reckon where Sunny is?”
    “No idea.” I watched Meemaw leave her trailer and walk to Kerrigan’s. “Maybe she’s in there, in her mother’s trailer.”
    “Dead.”
    “Of course not. She heard the dead man, whoever he is, coming in whatever vehicle he came in, and she knew what he was up to, and she had time to hide somewhere.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “Absolutely. Now if we just knew who he is and how he got here and what he was up to, we’d know where Sunshine is.” I was babbling, but it seemed to make Mary Alice feel better.
    “Are you sure, Mouse?”
    “Of course. Sunshine’s fine.” In a pig’s eye. The girl was kidnapped, murdered, or a murderer. Take your pick.
    Meemaw came from Kerrigan’s trailer