She did. Daddy had told her when he got home earlier and called the sheriff, which was why she was fixing dinner at her house and had Sachet there with her. When Frankie and I went in the house, Sheriff Posey, Frank Thompson, and Daddy were all sitting in the living room waiting for us. Daddy had told the sheriff what he knew of the previous night’s events, and Frankie’s dad had given his version. But the sheriff wanted to hear it straight from Frankie, which he did. He took Frankie for a walk and left the rest of us waiting in the living room. That was the longest half-hour I think I’ve ever spent, sitting there in the stony silence, the tension between my father and Frank Thompson so thick you could feel it in the air. Daddy would not look at the man; his contempt was that palpable. As for Frank Thompson, he sat there the entire time leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed, appearing to be as affected by the situation as a man waiting for a bus down at the Trailways depot.
