Into the Frying Pan

by Sarah Osborne

  “It’s possible,” I said. “Carl was using her to get ahead and certainly didn’t care much about her feelings.”

  I sighed. No matter how you sliced it, someone I knew was a murderer.

  “Kathy was pregnant. She’d told Carl, and he was pleased. She thought the baby might offer them a new beginning. What motive would she have to kill the father of her baby?”

  “None,” Mason said, “if what you’re describing is actually true.”

  “You’re right. She told me she’d lost the baby this afternoon and said it was because of the photo. She seemed so calm about the loss, it unnerved me. I wondered if it was simply one more shock, or—”

  “Maybe she hadn’t been pregnant in the first place.” Mason finished my sentence for me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The service for Carl was held at a large Episcopal church on Peachtree. More than a hundred people were in attendance. It was a formal service, and it didn’t tell me any more about Carl than I already knew. There was a reception after the service but nothing graveside. His body would be cremated after it was released by the medical examiner.

  I greeted Kathy at the reception in a large room in an adjoining building. She stood beside her mother and four siblings. I remembered then that her father had died some years before, shortly after he’d given his lectures to us in school. I could still remember how he’d stopped in the middle of his talk and looked at the sixty or so of us sitting in the classroom.

  “Put that newspaper away,” he’d said to a student in the back row. “And you, you there, wake up. What do you think y’all are doing? You’re going to be doctors, at least most of you are.”

  We snapped to attention. Even my more cynical classmates responded. It was quite a show.

  Kathy brought me back to the present. She thanked me for coming and introduced her mother and siblings.

  “Are you living in Atlanta now?” I asked her mother.

  “No. I still have our family home in South Carolina. You must visit sometime.”

  “Andy Morrison gave me the same invitation, so you may see me on your doorstep one day.”

  “That would be lovely,” Mrs. LeRoy said graciously. “I haven’t seen much of Andy for a couple of years. He’s a fine man, don’t you think, Kathy?”

  Kathy blushed slightly. “Of course, Mother.”

  Kathy turned away from her to introduce me to Carl’s mother, a woman who looked distinctly out of place in the crowd of well-dressed, well-moneyed Buckhead people.

  “Mama Beatrice, this is a friend, Dr. Brown. She knew your son in medical school.”

  She smiled. “You knew my Carl? It’s so nice to meet you.”

  I shook her hand and talked about how smart he was.

  She nodded. “I always knew Carl would go far. He was smart and honest and determined to get out of our town. I missed him when he left, but I knew it was for his own good.”

  I nodded and she kept talking.

  “He was a good boy. I know he rubbed some people the wrong way, but that was only because he had such a drive to make something of himself. He never forgot his mother. Never. After his father died, it was hard to make ends meet. Carl sent me money every month.”

  Again I nodded. This was a side of Carl I knew nothing about. Was it a mother’s wishful thinking or was it the truth? I doubted she made up the story about the money, but was she right or wrong about his honesty?

  Kathy intervened, perhaps afraid Carl’s mother would never stop talking in her grief. “The med school crowd is by the punch bowl. And I assume you know Phil’s father.”

  “I’m very sorry about Carl,” I said to Mrs. Thompson. “I wish I’d known him better.”

  “He was a scrapper,” she said. “He had to be in our neighborhood. Not many people saw his soft side—except Kathy and his friend Sally. Kathy was the best thing that ever happened to Carl.”

  Kathy heard that and gave her mother-in-law a hug.

  I walked slowly to the gathering by the punch bowl. Had we all misjudged Carl or was it a mother’s love speaking?

  Phil’s father nodded at me as I approached. I wasn’t eager to see him again. He’d never considered me a fit partner for his son. His disdain was never spoken out loud—that is not part of Southern tradition—but I had no trouble getting the message. I didn’t come from money like all the people who lived in Dr. Brockton’s upscale Buckhead neighborhood, and I had no interest in climbing the social ranks of Southern society. He didn’t say he disapproved of my becoming a doctor, but he did express his hope that I would not work when our children were small. I guess he took our relationship more seriously than Phil did.

  Danny was standing a few feet away, trying to be invisible perhaps. That was never going to happen with a man built like Danny who towered over everyone else in the room.

  Phil greeted me warmly. “Hi Ditie, I’m so glad you came. Dad, you remember Dr. Brown.”

  “Of course, I remember Mabel,” he said. “I never had a chance to compliment you on how you handled that unfortunate Sandler situation in the spring.”

  We shook hands.

  “Thank you.” I was careful not to prick any sore points by asking how it came to be that Carl was working for him.

  As I left him, Phil looked over at me and smiled. He brought me a cup of punch. “Thanks, Ditie, for not saying anything…provocative.”

  I nodded. “You and your dad seem to be getting on well. Has the atmosphere warmed?”

  Phil shook his head. “Not really. Dad has always known how to behave in public.”

  Together we joined the rest of the group. I remembered in med school, Phil had his tight circle of friends. Here they were clustered together as if they were the only people on earth—Andy, Frank, Ryan, Harper, and Sally.

  Agatha Christie would have loved this gathering. A small clutch of people with one murderer in the mix.

  I must have shuddered because Andy asked if I were cold. “It’s the air conditioning in here,” he said. “They’ve got it going full blast. You want my jacket?”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. I feel a little odd about being here. I was never close to Carl.”

  “I know the feeling,” Andy said. He moved away from the rest of the group and lowered his voice. “Makes me feel like a hypocrite. I was ready to sue the guy and now he’s dead. I guess you know what he did to me. Phil probably told you.”

  “Actually, Kathy did. She said she was intent on paying back every cent he embezzled.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t want her to. She’s not responsible for what he did, but she insisted.”

  “Was Sally involved?”

  “I mean no offense, but Sally isn’t the brightest bulb. She may have her degrees in business and financial planning, but I never knew for sure if she was actually competent at what she was doing.”

  “Phil told me she didn’t have any financial degrees—that’s why she isn’t working for his dad.”

  Andy shook his head. “That’s news to me. Frankly, I was happy to get them both out of my practice.”

  “Did you bury the hatchet with Carl? Sorry, bad choice of terms.”

  “What’s done is done, but I couldn’t believe it when Phil told me his father took Carl on as a partner. Carl never asked me for a reference and I never gave one.”

  Our conversation ended abruptly when Ryan and Harper joined us.

  “You have to try these canapés, Mabel. Tell me what you think?” She practically stuffed a cracker with shrimp and avocado into my mouth. I took it from her and tasted it. “Delicious.”

  Sally walked up and looked as if she’d been crying.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  She nodded and headed for the ladies’ room. I followed.

  “Carl’s mother told me how close you were to Carl,” I said, once we were alone
inside the restroom.

  She stood at the sink dabbing at her mascara.

  “People misunderstood him. They thought his bluster was who he really was, but I knew him as a friend. It’s heartbreaking—he was getting a fresh start, making amends.”

  “Making amends to Andy?” I asked. “Or Phil?”

  “Not Phil. Phil can be really pig-headed. All this talk about how his father threw him over for Carl—that’s all nonsense. Phil made a mess of his relationship with his dad. He didn’t need any help from Carl to do that, and Carl never said a bad word about Phil to his father.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “I thought about working with Phil’s dad on the financial end of things. But the whole concierge thing—I’m not sure I really want that. It seems so Buckhead, and I grew up in a small town.”

  I decided not to confront Sally with Phil’s version of events—that she had no financial degrees.

  “I spent some time talking to Phil’s dad,” Sally continued. “He was crushed that Phil wouldn’t join the practice. That was Phil’s choice, not his father’s.”

  Sally finished putting on new make-up. She patted my arm as she turned to leave the room.

  I thought she might break down again, but she sniffed, put her head back and walked ahead of me. “I’ll see you at the reenactment?” she asked.

  “No, I can’t bring the kids to that. They’ve been through too much.”

  “Then how about we have a drink sometime soon? I’ve missed you, girl, I have.” She handed me her card. It stated she was a financial planner. She wrote down her cell number on the card. “If you know anyone who’s looking for help with their investments, let me know.” She looked at me with her pixie smile. “You remember the times we had in Anatomy Lab? We were the only ones willing to do certain dissections. I thought the boys would pass out when we got to those parts.”

  Sally was laughing, and I had to smile. It was the one time our more cocky colleagues let us step forward.

  I watched Sally walk over to Kathy, give her a hug and leave. I stood alone, trying to figure out where to go next, when Danny came up beside me.

  “You look lost,” he said.

  “I’m feeling that way. How’s it going with Phil?”

  “Piece of cake, so far. We go out to eat at expensive restaurants. I sleep in the spare bedroom.”

  “Does Phil seem nervous about tomorrow?”

  “Eager, I’d say. Not exactly like someone who had a near-death experience.”

  “So you don’t think he really believes someone meant to kill him?”

  Danny made a face. “I don’t know. He’s talked to me a lot about the cannon. You want to hear this?”

  “You bet I do. I know the cannon was an original and belonged to Phil.”

  Danny smiled at me. “You’re stealing my thunder. Phil claims the cannon was the most priceless possession he owned. He claims he’s devastated it’s destroyed, and I kind of believe him.”

  “You believe someone else may have damaged the cannon?” I asked.

  “Or it was truly an accident. Phil says it would be impossible to know precisely how the cannon would explode or who would get hurt. If it wasn’t an accident, he tells me someone meant to kill him—or frame him for murder.”

  “Are the police calling this murder?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “The picture was no accident. You and Phil are sure no one could have wandered on the field and taken that photo after it happened?”

  “Phil was there when the gun exploded, and I got to the spot maybe thirty seconds later. No one else came near the body before the police arrived. You saw that as clearly as I did. Phil was very precise about the events and about who was where at the time, and he never mentioned anyone using a cell phone to take a picture.”

  “He is precise. I’m just no longer sure how truthful he is,” I said.

  “You think he could have killed Thompson?” Danny asked me. “And then taken a picture of the body? Why would he do that?”

  “I have no idea, and I find it hard to believe he would blow up his precious cannon to kill a man. Still, he hated Carl with a passion, and Carl was worming his way into his father’s good graces.”

  “You dated the guy for what—six years? You think you dated a murderer?”

  “Don’t rub it in, Danny. I am beginning to think it’s possible. The part that makes no sense is why he’d take a picture of the man he’d just killed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Most of the people who’d come to the service had left by the time Danny glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Phil will be having a fit. It’s after three and he wanted to be out of here by then, so we could go over last minute arrangements for tomorrow. You’re not coming, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And Mason?”

  “Mason will be there.”

  “Then I guess Mason, Lurleen, and I will hold down the fort so to speak.” Danny said.

  “Do you expect trouble?” I asked.

  “If Phil really was the intended victim, then who’s to say the murderer won’t try again. You can bet the cannons will be guarded, but a lot can happen on a field amid the smoke and gunfire.”

  “Maybe Lurleen shouldn’t go either,” I said.

  “She’s a sutler. She’ll be selling things, so she won’t be on the battlefield. I made her promise that. There will be a beefed up police presence, and that may deter anyone who’d like to make mischief.”

  “You take care, Danny,” I said. “I know this is your profession, but don’t do anything foolish.”

  “I have one job tomorrow, and that’s to keep Phil Brockton safe. That’s what I’ll do.”

  Phil came up, a pocket watch in his hand. “I thought I said three and it’s already three fifteen.”

  “Are you kidding, Phil?” I looked at his watch. “It’s circa Civil War, isn’t it?”

  “You bet it is, and the time is accurate to two seconds.”

  “Sorry, boss,” Danny said.

  “It’s my fault, Phil. I cornered Danny.”

  Phil looked at me a little warily, or so it seemed to me. “I saw you talking a long time to Sally. What was that all about?” he asked.

  I wasn’t sure how to answer him, and he saw me hesitate.

  “Sally told you some story, didn’t she, about how it was all my fault and my decision that I’m not working for my dad. You should know she had a thing for Carl. He could do no wrong in her eyes, so whatever story he fed her, she believed.”

  My head was starting to hurt. Had I gone to school with a pack of liars?

  “Are you scared about tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Scared? No, I’m excited. It’s going to be a great show, and I’m sorry you won’t be there.”

  “You were so sure someone meant to kill you. You’re not worried they’ll try again?”

  “That’s why I’ve got my protection.” He nodded at Danny. “Who would mess with him?”

  Phil either had a lot of bravado, or he knew he was in no danger. I turned and headed to Kathy and Carl’s mother to say good bye. Only a few people lingered around the refreshment tables. The great hall looked as sad and lonely as those two women did. Ryan and Harper were standing next to Kathy.

  Mrs. Thompson greeted me like an old friend. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  I told her how glad I was to meet her and how sorry I was for what she was going through.

  Kathy smiled at me. “Thank you for taking the time to come. Can I call you tonight?”

  “Of course. I get the kids in bed by nine. If you’re not too tired you can call me then.”

  “We’re just leaving,” Ryan said. “We’ll walk you out.”

  When we’d left the church, Ryan turned to me. “What was that all abou
t? I didn’t know you and Kathy were friends.”

  “We’re not exactly. I’ve just met her, but she needed some support, and I offered to provide it.”

  Ryan and Harper exchanged a look and left me in the parking lot.

  I got in my car and called Lurleen. All was well with the children. They were in the backyard eating watermelon, and Lurleen had just told them about how she used to pick melons in the south of France with her farmer boyfriend Valentin, a boyfriend she’d never mentioned to me.

  I got home as Mason pulled up.

  He kissed me, and we walked together around the side of the house to say hello to the kids in the backyard.

  “I can’t stay,” he said as we walked through the side gate. “I have work to do at the office, but I wanted to see you after the service. How’d it go?”

  “Everyone is telling me a different story. I have no idea who’s telling me the truth.”

  “If any of them are,” Mason said. “People lie, sometimes for stupid reasons, and it never gets them far. Barden is hammering away at your classmates. And the crime lab has a few more facts. You want to hear them?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “According to the Sheriff, the lab found a hairline crack in the barrel fragments, which isn’t uncommon in those old cannons. But they also found that a section of the crack had been deepened, and they don’t think that occurred naturally.”

  “So it was murder!” I said.

  “Looks like it.”

  We got to the backyard in time to see Lurleen placing watermelon rind in a trash bag. The kids ran up with sticky fingers and I warded them off with a kiss on their heads and urged them to run inside and wash their hands.

  That gave me a minute to tell Lurleen the latest news. Before I started I looked at Mason.

  “Is this confidential?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “The Sheriff doesn’t seem to think it needs to be kept quiet. He’s more anxious to see how everyone reacts to the information.”

  “Okay then.” I told Lurleen it looked like murder.

  “Someone damaged the cannon to make it explode?” Lurleen asked. “How could you do that without killing everyone in sight.”