I was certain something had happened to Trevor, and my heart was breaking before I even got to the house.I couldn’t imagine the terror and heartbreak of having a baby die. If I wept all these years over Dad and Rhoda, how did a mother deal with the death of a child she had carried within her own body for nine months, had fed at her breast and cradled against her heart?I grimaced. That undoubtedly explained my mother.But the call wasn’t Becky and her baby. It was Old Nate himself. And he didn’t need us by the time we arrived.His body lay crumpled at the bottom of the stairs that led from the living room to the upstairs. Whether a fall down those stairs had caused his death or some sort of attack had caused both his fall and his death or there was some other not readily apparent cause, my partner Harry Mast and I didn’t try to determine. That was for the coroner.Becky told us she found Old Nate when she went downstairs to get a root beer.“I only had a small flashlight, and I almost stepped on him in the dark,”
