I wasn’t looking forward to reading it.
“Austin, would you mind walking Thelma over there to the car and getting her settled in the front seat please? I’ll be right there.”
“But I always get shotgun.”
“Yes, because there’s never an older person with more life experience to take it from you, but tonight there is.”
He wiggled his head like I’d just said the most ridiculous thing ever, but he did as I’d asked, and I considered that a win for momma.
“So Lonna, how’s that article coming? You know, the one where you’re planning to throw me under the bus for Bobby’s murder?”
She swallowed hard. “I’m not...I...I’m reporting what my sources tell me, that’s all.”
Jack stood with his legs hip width apart and gripped his waist with his palms. “Did someone tell you they thought Chantilly killed Bobby?”
“Well, no, not...not exactly.”
“What exactly did they tell you?”
“That they’d seen her at Hamilton House the morning he was killed.”
“And that’s enough evidence to convict her in the paper?”
“Well? I, uh...I...I just report what I’m told. That’s my job.”
I held up my hand. “Your job is to interview and ask questions and report the facts.”
She stepped back and squinted her eyes at me. “And that’s what I did.”
“So then you’re telling me the article mentions Maybelle Parker being there, arguing with Bobby, and being fired then, too?”
“Well, no of course not. Maybelle Parker wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“You can’t stab a flea with a knife, Lonna.”
“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you didn’t do your due diligence on that article, and you know it.” She’d crossed the line, and I was angry. I was angry before, so why it came out then didn’t make sense.
“Why, I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing. I’m a professional. I don’t know what they taught you at that out of state college you went to, but I’m home grown, and I learned from the best.”
I secured a loose strand of my long red hair behind my ear and shook my head. “Deflecting never worked for you in high school Lonna, and it’s won’t now, either.”
Jack rubbed the top of his head. “I specifically asked you not to write about the suspects. What were you thinking?”
She winced. “I was thinking I needed to do my job.”
“No, you weren’t, that much I know. Pull the article.”
“I can’t. It’s too late. It’s already gone to print.”
His head shifted back and forth, and then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Before he dialed, he smiled at me. “I’m sorry about this. You going to be around in a bit?”
“I can wait here.”
“No, go home. I’ll come by in a bit.” He whipped his head toward his girlfriend. “Go home, Lonna. We’ll talk later. I need to fix this before it’s too late. He marched away while tapping into his phone.
Goodness. Things had to be pretty bad for Lonna Appleton if I felt sorry for her, and I did.
__________
I’D FORGOTTEN TO TURN the air to auto that morning, and Austin and I walked into a stuffy house. A hint of my mother’s cranberry jam breezed by us as I closed the door behind us.
“Did you smell that?”
Austin bolted past me toward the stairs. “Smell what?”
“Nothing.”
“Can you make me something to eat, please? I’m getting in the shower.”
I stood frozen and dumbfounded. My son had just willing decided to take a shower. By himself. Without any threats of certain death from his mother.
Then again, when I got in the car to leave the field, I’d rolled up the windows to turn on the air conditioner, and Thelma asked if there was a dead opossum rotting behind her seat.
I’d replied with a simple, “Nope, that’s my son.”
She’d held her nose and said, “Heavens, that could kill an old person like me. I have a very sensitive nose.”
“Dinner will be ready soon,” I hollered to him.
I searched the freezer for one of my previously made chicken potpies and slid it into the oven when it hit the right temperature.
I set the small four-top kitchen table my mother and I picked out in a big box furniture store a few years ago and stared at the wall.
I chose not to think about Lonna’s article, and felt some sense of relief knowing Thelma’s blog wouldn’t accuse anyone else of the crime in my defense. On the way home, I’d quickly filled her in on Jack’s desire to not have any names published and assured her there would be no need to do it at that point anyway. I prayed I was right, because I had no idea what Jack could do, if anything, to stop Lonna’s article from printing, but I hoped for the best.
The floor creaked like they always did when someone walked down the hall. “It’ll be ready in a bit,” I said.
Austin didn’t answer, and I didn’t hear his unique, heavy footed walk toward the kitchen or the TV click on in the den.
“Austin?” I pushed the chair back from the table and walked into the hallway. The water beating down into the shower tub echoing from the bathroom.
He was still in the shower? But I’d just heard—I stopped my thought. I knew what I’d just heard, and it wasn’t Austin. “Who’s here?”
I got to the den just in time to see the last speckles of white as they disappeared. A piece of lined paper slipped from the coffee table to the floor. I picked it up to read it, but the words disappeared before my eyes. I walked in a circle, hoping she was still there. “Agnes? Please, Agnes, talk to me. I can’t figure this out like this.”
Austin leaned onto the French doors into the den. “Momma, you okay?”
I flipped around. “Oh, yes sweetie, I’m fine. Just thought I heard something.”
He didn’t seem to care. “Dinner ready yet? I’m starving.”
I checked my watch. “Three more minutes. Get yourself something to drink. I’ll be in in a second.”
He flipped around without a care in the world while I stood there holding a letter written in disappearing ink.
Austin spoke with a mouthful of chicken pot pie. “Coach Jack’s girlfriend is weird.”
He was right, but there was a lesson hanging from his words, and I needed to teach it when I had the chance. “First impressions aren’t always the best, sweetie, and you shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
“I’ve met her before, and she was weird then, too.”
Stop pitching me softballs, I thought. It was hard to be a mother and kind toward people that wanted to throw me under the bus at the same time. “You must have seen her when she had a lot on her mind or something.”
“Maybe, because she acted like she didn’t know me, and she does. Just the other day she sat next to me at practice and asked me all about us.”
My fork stopped midway to my mouth. “She talked to you?”
“Yeah. Wanted to know if you and Dad would get back together and if you have a boyfriend.” He cringed at the thought of one of those, I just wasn’t sure which.
I kept my tone even and calm, and it wasn’t easy. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her Dad’s getting married, and you’re too old for a boyfriend.”
Both of those were stabs to my heart I hadn’t expected, one more so than the other. “Your father’s getting married?”
He looked up from his dinner. A small piece of carrot stuck to the side of his face, and I wiped it off with his napkin.
“He said he was gonna tell you.”
I moved a chunk of chicken around on my plate. “Oh, well he probably hasn’t had a chance yet.”
“He told me the day after we moved. He wants me to be his best man.”
I swallowed a bite and it went down the wrong pipe. I coughed for a good thirty seconds straight.
We’d taught Austin how t
o perform the Heimlich Maneuver when he was younger, and he jumped from his seat immediately.
I held up my hand. “I’m okay,” I said, coughing between words. “Give me a sec.” I coughed a few more times, wiped my beginning to tear eyes, and finally spoke again. “That sounds great. Are you excited?”
He shrugged. “I mean, not really, I guess.”
“Honey, look at me.”
His eyes shifted upward, but he kept his head aimed toward his plate.
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy for your dad, and you’re allowed to look forward to sharing in his experiences. I’m fine.” The funny thing was, I wasn’t just saying that, either. I was fine. I wasn’t thrilled to know Scott was marrying the woman he’d left me for, but I didn’t exactly want him back, either.
I sensed how torn my son felt. A young boy didn’t need that kind of pressure. It wasn’t his responsibility to take on the burden of his parents’ mistakes. “We made our mistakes, and we’re both trying to rebuild our lives, but none of it is your responsibility. You have to do what you feel is right for you, and I’ll support whatever that is.” I stood and moved around the table and hugged my arms around his shoulders. I pressed my cheek onto his. “If your dad and I did anything right, it was creating you. You’ve got a good heart and a strong soul. Let those guide you.”
“But I don’t want you to be upset.”
“First of all,” I poured myself a glass of tea. “This isn’t about me. This is about your father and his special day. Second of all, I will never be upset with you for wanting to support your father. I expect that from you.”
“So, you mean you’d be disappointed if I didn’t do it?”
I wouldn’t go that far, but I knew where he was going. He wanted my approval. “I think you should do it. I think in the long term, you’ll be happy you did.”
His mouth twitched, and I knew he wanted to smile, but wasn’t sure if he should. I chose to change the subject. “But I have a bone to pick with you.”
He sighed. “I hate when you pick at my bones.”
I smirked. “Too bad. I made those bones in my body. I can pick at them all I want.”
“Fine.”
“How am I too old to have a boyfriend?”
He laughed. “Boyfriends are for girls my age, Momma. You’re old. You should have a man friend.”
“Semantics, Austin, semantics.”
“What’re those?”
I ruffled his hair and it reminded me of when Jack had done it earlier and also that I hadn’t yet heard from him. “Don’t you have homework?”
“A little.”
“I’ll clean up. Go get it started. It’s getting late.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I dug my phone out of my purse and saw I had a voicemail from Delphina. I played it back.
“Sweetie, it’s Del. Hello. Are you there? Listen, call me. I talked to the cooks, and I wanted to fill you in. Okay? Bye. Stupid machine.”
I laughed. Del couldn’t grasp that voicemail wasn’t like an answering machine. I couldn’t just pick up in the middle of the message. I did call her back, and she answered.
“That Rashid Patel was at Hamilton House that morning.”
“What? He was?”
“Yup. Both cooks said he came in looking for Bobby, and they sent him upstairs just like you.”
“How long was he there?”
“Don’t know. They didn’t see him leave.”
“He could have had plenty of time to kill Bobby even if he was there five minutes before I was.”
“You’ve seen Rashid. The man’s a stick. Can’t weigh more than my old dog Red, and he wasn’t even a hundred and ten pounds. I don’t think he could kill Bobby.”
“He could if Bobby wasn’t expecting it.”
“Bobby’s a confrontational guy, or he was anyway. He wouldn’t let that kid in his office in the first place.”
That could have been true, but someone was there, and they killed him. “Maybe Bobby didn’t let him into the office. Maybe the killer was already there.”
“How’s that?”
My phone beeped and Jack’s contact information flashed on my screen. “Del, that’s Jack on the other line, and I’ve got to talk to him. I’ll come by first thing tomorrow, okay?”
“Hanging up on me for that detective are ya? Em hmm.” She hung up her landline, and I laughed.
I answered Jack’s call. “Hey.”
“Hey. I wanted to apologize for Lonna’s behavior earlier.”
“Please. It’s nothing she hasn’t done to me in the past. Don’t worry about it.”
“I had a talk with her, and I don’t think she’ll behave like that again.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Did you find out anything about the article?”
“Chip, the guy that runs the paper is a good friend. You probably remember him from school.”
“I do.”
“He pulled it. I let him know what’s going on and why I don’t want any potential suspects named yet.”
I breathed a sigh of relief even though he’d called me a potential suspect. “Thank you so much.”
“Not a problem.”
“You know I didn’t do it though, don’t you? I could never do something like that.”
“I don’t think you did, but I have to ask the questions and check all the boxes.”
I understood that. “Have you talked to Julia and Jesse Lye or Rashid Patel?”
“I have them on my list. We don’t have a large department, and I’ve got a few people handling other things at the moment, so it’s pretty much just me.”
“I ran into Julia and Jesse at the lacrosse park tonight.”
“They do have their food truck there.”
“Yes, and they were both very upset the other day about Bobby having his cart there. Bobby argued with them. I told you that, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ew. I understood what Angela Panther said. I didn’t like being called ma’am by someone my age. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but it stood out like a sore thumb when Jack said it. “When I spoke to them this evening, Jesse didn’t really have an alibi. He said he was prepping his truck at his house and that his wife took their daughter to daycare.”
“Okay.”
“And I don’t know what happened, but Delphina just said Rashid Patel, another one of the contestants in the competition, was at Hamilton House the morning Bobby was killed.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’re not part of the investigation.”
Ego deflated. “No, but that doesn’t matter. If I’m a possible suspect, I have a right to know the other suspects, don’t I?”
“You don’t actually have rights to know what’s going on. The department determines what’s appropriate for the public to know. That’s how these things work.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never been accused of murder, so I wouldn’t know.” There was a whole lot of attitude in my tone when I blurted out that immature statement.
“In an active investigation a law enforcement officer doesn’t typically share key points with anyone potentially involved in the case. Call it poor business practice.”
“I get it.” And I did. I just didn’t like being a possible suspect. “The cooks told Del they talked to Rashid, but they didn’t see him leave. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
“Not impossible. He naturally went into the kitchen looking for Bobby. They directed him upstairs, and when he finished his business, he left through the front door. Maybe he didn’t feel the need to say goodbye to the staff.”
“It’s possible, I guess. Can you at least tell me what time he got there?”
“Said shortly before nine.”
“I left the museum just before nine. I saw Maybelle and chatted with her for all of two minutes maybe and then went straight to
the restaurant. Wouldn’t I have seen Rashid?”
“He probably drove.”
“But if he was there for even just five minutes, it’s likely I would have at least run into his car leaving or something, right?”
He was silent for a moment. “Could be.”
“What did he go there for?”
“Chantilly, listen. I appreciate what you’re doing here, but this is a police investigation, and I really have to keep it private.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I appreciate you talking to Chip for me.”
“How’s your head?”
“It’s better, thank you for asking.”
“Not planning to perform any more séances now, are you?”
“Not anytime in the future, no.”
“Good. The last thing this town needs is someone telling them these old ghost stories are true.”
Chapter Nine
“HE DID NOT.” DELPHINA slid a sliced biscuit onto my plate and handed it to me across the counter. “I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. I know there’s ghosts in this town.”
“You haven’t seen Agnes. You’ve seen me seeing Agnes. That’s something entirely different.”
She sat at my table with me. “Well, that boy wouldn’t know a ghost if it tossed a white sheet over its head and sat at his table for supper.”
I laughed. “You’re probably right, but a lot of people don’t believe in them. I wasn’t sure I did before now, either.”
“I’ve seen a ghost before,” Thelma said.
Del wiggled her head like a frustrated mother. “Yeah? When?”
“When Charlie junior died, I knew. I knew before they came to tell us. I saw him in my dream. He told me he was okay, and that I shouldn’t worry. He said Heaven was pretty, but I had a long time before I got there, and I needed to be strong.”
Del’s face softened. “How come you never told me that?”
“You never asked.”
From what I recalled, Charlie was missing in action for over two months before they found him. Thelma hadn’t heard from him, but that wasn’t unusual for families with loved ones in the heat of the battle. “How long before the men came to your house after you had the dream?”
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