“Why does it matter if it was in an unlocked drawer,” Lurleen asked.
“If you were paying off a blackmailer, would you keep that evidence in plain sight, where your wife might find it?” Mason asked.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Lurleen said.
“Does this former boss have a name?” I asked.
I swear Mason smirked. He reached over to the coffee table and picked up another piece of cheese, which he popped into his mouth. He was obviously enjoying himself. When he’d finished eating he finally responded.
“I thought you’d never ask. The initials in the book were F.P. and the boss was Frank Peterson. Dr. Frank Peterson. One of your classmates, I believe.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said.
“I am. Dr. Peterson confirmed the payments. He admitted to the police that Carl had embezzled money from him and agreed to repay him as long as Dr. Peterson kept his mouth shut about what he’d done. Seems Dr. Peterson didn’t want the word to get out he’d been taken for a ride, and he certainly wanted his money back.” Mason smiled. “Looks like you had a class of mercenary folks in med school, Ditie.”
“You look delighted by that fact, Mason! Why would you play a game with me about this? You never play that kind of game. First, you claim I still have feelings for Phil and then you disparage my entire medical school class. What is wrong with you?”
Even Lurleen looked shocked.
Mason slumped into the couch. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought it was amusing—that all these doctors weren’t quite as high and mighty as they seemed.”
“There is nothing about this that’s amusing. I know all these people, and now I know they can’t be trusted. It’s not a joke to me.”
“Ditie, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything!”
Lurleen stood. “This is my cue to leave, chérie.”
I walked her to the door.
“Don’t stay mad too long, ma chère. Jealousy makes people do crazy things.”
She kissed me on each cheek and left.
Mason stood. “I guess I should go, too.”
“Yes, you should. I don’t want to discuss this with you right now. But before you leave I need to know if there were other initials in that book?”
“No, but several pages were ripped out,” Mason said.
“So maybe Carl was being blackmailed by someone else as well. Someone who knew about his book of accounts and didn’t want their names or initials to be found.”
“It’s possible,” Mason said.
I sighed and turned my back on Mason. “Now you can go.”
Mason walked to the door. “If I lose you over this I don’t know what I’ll do.”
I didn’t respond.
When he left I burst into tears. How could Mason have been so flippant with my feelings? So enraged with my fellow doctors? I was enraged too, but I didn’t take satisfaction in discovering how flawed they were. Mason was gloating, and I’d never seen him do that before.
Was this all about jealousy—that raw nasty word? Did Mason actually believe I might leave him for Phil? I remembered what Ryan had said. His words were almost the same as Mason’s—that he couldn’t bear to lose Harper.
I felt sick and utterly alone—that is until Lurleen called me an hour later.
“I wanted to give you time to finish your argument with Mason. Did you finish it?” she asked.
“For now. He’s gone.”
“People aren’t perfect,” Lurleen said, “even Mason. Sometimes people have problems or a history they just can’t talk about.”
“How can I possibly think of marrying a man who could react like that? I won’t live with a man who doesn’t trust me or could be so cavalier about my feelings.”
“All I’m saying, Ditie, is that you give him a chance to explain himself. You know he’s a good man. I don’t know what started all this, but I do know he loves you.”
“I won’t be loved the way Ryan loved Harper. That was desperation, not love.”
“Then make him talk to you,” Lurleen said.
I took a deep breath.
“You’re right, Lurleen. I’m jumping to conclusions. Something’s going on with him that I know nothing about.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I called Mason early the next morning before I went to work. Perhaps if I’d been a bit kinder I might have called him the night before.
“I love you, but we have to get through this jealousy thing,” I said. “I know your wife died of cancer, and I’m terribly sorry about that. But now I wonder if there might have been other problems in the marriage—maybe related to jealousy or an affair? Perhaps an affair with a doctor? Did you leave that small detail out of our discussions?”
Mason was silent.
“You did, didn’t you? No wonder you worried so much about Phil and have such a low opinion of physicians.”
“Not all physicians, just the male variety.”
“Honestly, Mason, we have work to do before we even think about getting married. You need to talk to me. Obviously, this drove you crazy and you never bothered to tell me about it. You have to let me in.”
“I will, Ditie, if you give me another chance.”
“You have a hundred more chances with me. I love you. The children love you. But I need to know who you are. I know Eddie couldn’t have produced a son incapable of talking to the woman he loves.”
“I’ve never opened up to anyone, Ditie. Not since my brother died.”
“That was more than twenty years ago, Mason. You can start with me. I’m a good listener. Jason needs a role model of how to be a man, and he doesn’t need another superhero. He needs to know that guys are tender and get bruised sometimes, and that men and women talk to each other and comfort each other. If you plan to be his second dad and my husband, you’re going to need to get a move on.”
Mason was quiet. “I will, Ditie. I can’t believe what I did last night.”
“As my wise friend Lurleen said, nobody’s perfect and jealousy is a terrible thing.”
I drove to work and tried to shove all the pieces of the recent events out of my mind. I turned my phone off and left it that way until I took a break for lunch. Then it was a quick call to Lurleen.
“Mason and I are fine,” I told her before she could ask. “Well, not exactly fine, but we will be.”
“Quel soulagement!” she said.
“Lurleen, it used to be I could understand all your French phrases but not anymore. Am I getting rusty or is your French improving?”
“I said, what a relief, and if you must know Danny is coaching me in everyday useful French phrases. Not that I need it, mind you, but he did major in French at University of Georgia, and I only lived around my French aunt in the summers.”
Lurleen claimed her aunt had owned a chateau in Provence. I never pushed the issue and I wasn’t about to push it now. Some secrets were harmless.
Of course, that made me think about the secrets that might be deadly.
“You are so quiet, chérie.”
“I was thinking about the murders. Have you heard from Danny?”
“He’s right beside me. Phil told Danny he didn’t need a bodyguard anymore. Not with charges of murder or manslaughter hanging over his head—what he needed was a good criminal lawyer. I thought about recommending Tommy, but I wasn’t sure you’d like that idea.”
“No, Lurleen, I don’t. Tommy stays out of this one. I don’t mind asking him if he knows someone to recommend, but I’m afraid that might just get his juices flowing. Besides, Phil or his dad will know who to hire.”
“Right. I’ll keep mum. We’ll be at your house when you get home. Will Mason be there?”
“I hope so.”
A knock on the door meant I had pati
ents waiting.
“I’ll be home around five thirty,” I said. “Maybe Danny could scrounge up some dinner? Anything would be fine.”
Lurleen put her hand over the phone, and I could hear her murmuring to Danny.
“He asks if coq au vin would suit you?”
“Perfect! Tell him thanks.”
The afternoon sped by. I had several follow-up medical screenings to do. In one family from sub-Saharan Africa, I found a rash on a five-year-old’s foot. Schistosomiasis was a parasite common to that area. Vic confirmed my suspicions and we sent off the necessary stool and blood samples. I hadn’t seen a case before except in text books, which meant that no matter how long I worked in the clinic I’d never manage to see everything there was to see.
I came home tired and a little late, but everyone was there to greet me, including Mason. He held back until I approached him and kissed him hello. Then I kissed Lucie and Jason.
“I’ve missed you two.”
Lucie smiled at me, and Jason paused for two seconds before returning to Danny and his Civil War collection. Danny was letting Jason hold old coins and belt buckles and mini balls. I tried hard not to think of Ryan killed by live ammunition from Phil’s gun, but of course that was impossible.
Danny looked at me and seemed to understand what was going on in my head. “We’ve got to clean up, Jason, and get dinner on the table,” he said.
“I’ll take him,” Lurleen said. “You’re not going to give your…other mom a hug?”
Jason looked at Lurleen. He smiled and ran over to give me a huge hug.
“Looks like you could use one too,” I said to Lucie, who blushed and let me squeeze her until she begged for mercy.
Dinner was exquisite. Danny would have been a catch if he’d had no idea how to cook, but the fact he could prepare gourmet meals pushed him right over the top. Interestingly, Mason never seemed jealous of him.
After dinner, we watched Finding Dory for the hundredth time and then I got the kids to bed. When I came back, Mason made me a Kahlua and cream. I asked him for the news of the day. He gave me a straight answer to a straight question.
“The Whitfield County investigator brought Frank Peterson in for more questioning. Dr. Peterson has changed his story and now denies anything remotely connected to blackmail. He says Carl had agreed to pay back in monthly installments what he had stolen. Frank said the payments stopped years ago and only recently started up again. He said the new payments had nothing to do with blackmail—he was just happy to see the money coming in again.”
“Does the investigator believe that?” I asked.
“He’s reserving judgment.”
“I am too,” I said. “Whenever Frank talks about the murders, he comes on so strong, worrying about who might be next.”
“That would be a good way to seem innocent,” Mason said. “Maybe he doth protest too much?”
“Maybe,” I said.
Danny stood up. “Anyone for decaf coffee and some chocolate chip cookies I saw in Ditie’s cookie jar? I’ll bring out a plateful if that’s okay with you, Ditie.”
It was all fine with me. I needed to hear more about the investigation but wasn’t quite sure what to ask. Maybe over a plateful of cookies we could get into a discussion.
Danny started the ball rolling. “So where is the investigation at this point? I know the Gordon County Sheriff’s office is working with Whitfield County, and I guess Officer Barden is more or less in charge of the whole investigation.”
“He is,” Mason said.
“They have the bullet,” Danny said, “but since it isn’t a mini ball and a smaller caliber, they can’t trace the gun that fired it, right?”
“Right. They do know from the angle of entry and the look of the wound, the shot was fired at close range, not a sniper as some speculated. It could have been any of the Confederate soldiers standing close to Phil.”
“They’ve ruled out suicide?” I asked.
“They have,” Mason said. “Wrong angle and the damage would have been more massive.”
“Let’s assume it was Phil’s gun and he didn’t know he had live ammunition,” I said. “Why would he aim at Ryan specifically?”
“And if he did want to kill him, why would he do it that way?” Danny asked. “He’d be the primary suspect even if they couldn’t trace the gun.”
“Danny, do you know who had access to the gun, other than Phil?” I asked.
“Phil claims he brought it from home. He left it in a lockbox in a shed on the battlefield while he went over plans with the person in charge of the Confederate forces.”
“And who had keys to the box?”
“That’s the question, Ditie. Phil had his key, of course, but he doesn’t know who else may have had one. Someone could have made a copy—he carried the lockbox with him to every reenactment. I suppose they could have dropped a bullet in his gun, but more likely they would have mixed it in with the black powder in a doctored cartridge. Phil said he had at least one of those in his lockbox as well.”
“Harper made it sound as if Phil wanted to marry her and Ryan was standing in the way,” Lurleen said. “Phil might have aimed at Ryan to vent his frustration not knowing the ammunition was live.”
“That’s a lot of conjecture,” Mason said. “Maybe it wasn’t his gun. Sally was standing beside him.”
“We don’t seem to have many suspects left,” I said. “Frank, Andy, and Harper were nowhere near the scene of the crime. One of them might have had a key to the lockbox, but how could they have made sure Ryan would be the one killed?”
That left us all silent.
“I have work tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t invite Mason to stay when the others left. We’d be moving slowly for a while. I also wanted a cool bath and twenty minutes to sort through the day.
Ryan had been the most likely suspect, and now Ryan was dead. Could he have killed Carl and could Sally have killed him in revenge? She seemed so devoted to Carl. She also had the hat with the piece of missing red-cotton. Did she attack me in the tunnel in hopes I’d leave and take Mason with me?
I needed to stop thinking and get some sleep, but sleep was elusive. I got up and headed for the kitchen. As I sorted through dinner recipes that might appeal to Jason and Lucie, I had a disturbing thought. What if the murderer still wasn’t finished? Frank asked who might be next. What if the killer had a grudge against someone else in our small circle?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kathy called me on my way to work. She’d been out of town staying with her family. Now she was home and wanted to see me. I also wanted to see her, and we agreed to meet after work. She was running a summer writing program for kids and wouldn’t be free until late afternoon.
“I’m surprised you’re back at work,” I said.
“It keeps me sane. You know how it is—you work with kids. When you have children to worry about, you can’t think about anything else. It’s when I’m alone that I find it unbearable.”
We agreed to meet at my favorite coffee house, Java Monkey in Decatur, as soon as we both finished work. It was a longer drive for Kathy, but she said she didn’t mind.
I called Lurleen at lunch and caught her before she took Jason and Lucie swimming. She was fine with my coming home late. “I’ll take the kids out to a movie after we swim. We’ll have popcorn and hotdogs if that’s all right with you.”
“Fine with me,” I said. It was summer after all. “Danny’s not with you?”
“It seems your ex wants Danny to do a little investigating for him despite what he said about not needing him anymore. He wants Danny to find out who might have made a copy of his lockbox key.”
“Have they arrested him?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
I hung up the phone and finished off my lunch of coq au vin leftovers. Coq au vin is one dish that gets b
etter with age. Then I went to find our triage nurse and see what the schedule held for the afternoon.
“It’s light today,” Vic said. “If you want to leave early, you can do that.”
“Maybe you can leave early,” I said. “I’m fine. I’m meeting someone at the end of the day.”
Vic, always the last to leave, managed to get out early for one day. The nurses and I were able to handle the pace and finish up right on time. I was troubled only by one young boy who didn’t look well. His stat labs came back fine, but I urged his mother to bring him back if he wasn’t better in a day or two. Sometimes you just get a feeling.
I left the clinic at five thirty and made it to Java Monkey by six. Kathy had settled herself in the back corner of the bar area, sipping a glass of red wine. I joined her.
“I hope you haven’t been here long.”
“I may stay all evening,” Kathy said. “I love the bustle, the funkiness. I feel out of place with no tattoo. Carl had us living in a straightjacket. Everything had to be top dollar and so proper.”
“I love this place too. If I ever write a book, this is where I’ll come to do it.”
Kathy smiled and drank her Pinot Noir.
“I still have trouble imagining you and Carl together,” I said. “You seem so down to earth, and I admit I have a soft spot for teachers.”
“You made my day,” Kathy said. “My father saw teaching as a temporary job until I found a nice doctor to marry. He was very disappointed when I didn’t give it up and have a house full of children.”
“You never wanted a house full of children?”
“No. It’s ironic isn’t it. I love teaching kids, but I’ve never been determined to have my own.”
I left her for a moment to order a glass of wine and a piece of the best cherry pie in the world, which came from a local bakery Southern Sweets. It wasn’t always available at Java Monkey but when it was I never passed it up. I brought back two forks.
“Oh,” she said. “You have a sweet tooth and you like children. No wonder I felt an immediate connection to you.”
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