many. Jeremiah forbade Blanche to see Raven.”
“Did Blanche routinely do what Jeremiah told her to do?”
“Oh, yes, indeed. We all did—me, Blanche, and Yvette. After our parents died, Jeremiah ran the family. He was very strong-willed.”
“You and your sisters lived with Jeremiah at that time?”
“Yes. In the old house.”
Rafe turned to Gretchen. “Garrett’s Kincaid’s place now. It was boarded up for years until he moved in a couple years ago.”
Gretchen jotted the information down in her notebook, then looked at Celeste. “Did your brother own a gun, Mrs. Monroe?”
Celeste’s fingers tensed in her lap. “Yes. He had a whole collection.”
“Did he have a pistol in his gun collection?”
“Several.”
“Where did he keep that gun collection?”
“In his study. He had a glass case built into the wall for it. He was very proud of it.”
“What happened to those guns?”
“I—I don’t know. I imagine they’re all still in the house.”
Gretchen and Rafe exchanged another look, and Gretchen scribbled another notation. At length she looked back up at Celeste. “I’d like to get back to the topic of Blanche and Raven. Did Blanche follow Jeremiah’s orders to stay away from Raven?”
The older woman stared down at her hands. “No.” She shifted uneasily and plucked at the fabric of her skirt. “She continued to see him. And she became pregnant with his child.” Her eyes took on a gentler look. “With Summer.”
“What was Jeremiah’s reaction to that?”
“Oh, my.” Celeste’s fingers twisted and untwisted the fabric. Her forehead creased in a frown. “Oh, dear. I—I really don’t remember. I know he was upset. I know Blanche and Raven planned to run away and elope. But my…my memory about those days is all kind of a blur.”
“Do you remember when Blanche told him she was pregnant?”
Celeste shook her head. “Blanche didn’t want to tell him. She kept putting it off. But as time went on, it became impossible to hide her condition. And when Jeremiah found out, he—” Celeste broke off.
“He what?”
Celeste pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “I’m not really sure. Everything about that time gets all jumbled up in my mind.”
Gretchen leaned forward. “This is really important, Mrs. Monroe.”
“I—I’m afraid I’m getting a terrible headache. Everything is all mixed up and confused.”
“Take your time, Celeste,” Rafe said soothingly. “Do you remember anything at all about that time?”
Celeste leaned her head back against the sofa and wound the fabric of her skirt around her index finger. “Let me see… Well, I remember Summer’s birth. I was there, you know, when Blanche gave birth. And I was there when she died of complications, a week afterward.” Celeste grew silent. “I promised her that Yvette and I would raise her baby. Jeremiah didn’t want us to, but we did.”
“You and Yvette did a fine job of that,” Rafe said softly.
Celeste smiled. “We did, didn’t we?”
“Yes, indeed. And I’m sure Gavin agrees.” Rafe returned her grin. After a companionable silence, he pressed forward. “Do you remember anything about Jeremiah’s reaction to Blanche’s pregnancy?”
“No. But I remember something Blanche told me about it after Raven was gone.”
“What?” Gretchen took over the questioning.
“She said that Jeremiah tried to pay Raven to leave town.”
“Did she think Raven took the money and left?”
“Oh, no. Raven had told her about the offer. He said at first he thought it would be best if he accepted it—that Blanche and the baby would have a better life without him. But when push came to shove, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break Blanche’s heart like that. He loved her—everyone knew that. He told her he was going to give back the money….”
“So he’d taken the money?” Gretchen asked.
Celeste massaged her right temple. Her eyes looked dazed and confused, and her face had grown pale. “I—I guess. I don’t know. I—I really can’t remember.”
Gretchen glanced at the sheriff.
“Do you remember the night Raven disappeared?” Rafe asked.
Celeste shook her head.
“When was the last time you saw Raven?” Gretchen asked.
“I—I don’t know. I’m all confused. And my head…” Celeste pressed her palm against her forehead.
Frannie noted with alarm that Celeste’s hand was trembling. She put an arm around the older woman. “She hasn’t been sleeping well,” she said apologetically to Rafe and Gretchen. “I think she needs to go back upstairs and lie down.”
“Yes. I think I should. I—I’m sorry I can’t be more help,” Celeste said weakly.
Gretchen and Rafe exchanged a meaningful glance, then both simultaneously rose from the sofa. Celeste and Frannie rose, as well.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Monroe,” Gretchen said. “I hope you get to feeling better.”
“Me, too.” Rafe studied the older woman, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Give me a call if you remember anything you think might help us, all right?”
“I will.”
“I’ll see our visitors out, Aunt Celeste,” Frannie said. “You go on upstairs.”
“All right. Goodbye.” Celeste shuffled from the room, looking old and wan.
Rafe gazed after her for a long moment, then turned to Frannie. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Frannie smiled at Gretchen. “It was nice meeting you, Gretchen.”
“Nice meeting you, too.”
“Good luck with your investigation.”
“Thanks. With a thirty-year-old murder case, we’re likely to need it.” Gretchen tucked her pen and notebook into her tote bag, then looked at Frannie. “Has your aunt ever told you anything about that night?”
Frannie shook her head. “She
