“Hattie, maybe you could talk to him.”
“Ralph? About what?”
“Ask him if he likes me.”
Oh my, this was getting like the fifth grade.
“Just be subtle about it,” Muriel added.
Hattie looked out the window. Thankfully, Ralph was coming up the sidewalk. She turned to her friend. “Why not enjoy each other’s company and see where it goes?”
With a tight smile, Muriel whispered. “Right. No pressure. That might work.”
In a burst of cold air, Ralph entered. “Okay ladies,” he said placing each of their hands in the crooks of his elbows. “Let me walk you.”
Hattie held tight and braced herself.
In eighty years some places never changed…libraries, basements, and funeral parlors. All with their unique smells and eerie silence. The cushiony rug beneath her feet felt thick, plush. She looked at the sconces on the wall. Soft light shone from beige shades. Hushed voices became louder as the three of them got closer to that door. The sweet scent of flowers, so lovely on the one hand, so desperately sad on the other.
At the open doorway, Ralph leaned into her. “You’ll be okay.”
Yes. Hattie had been shaking.
Ralph unhooked his arm and stood very straight.
While a throng of people, blocked Hattie’s view, it was clear the casket was open. Hattie looked at Muriel. Instead of the cheeriness she had in the car, the poor woman stared blankly.
Hattie whispered, “We’ll be fine.”
Muriel nodded remotely.
Ralph added, “Do you want to sit for now or get in line?”
“I’m sorry,” Muriel blurted. “I need to sit down. You two go ahead.”
Hattie immediately considered the logistics. She had to pay her respects, but more importantly she needed to speak with Mrs. Meeks. Preferably alone.
As Muriel stepped into a row of empty chairs and seemed to drop from exhaustion, Ralph whispered to Hattie, “Should we rest?”
Hattie shook her head. She had to get through this. “I’d like to pay my respects.”
“Yes. Let’s get on with it.”
It was a large room with aisles along the walls and a large seating area in the center. Whoever was greeting people stayed tucked amid the crowd. She and Ralph moved forward.
Hattie took a deep breath. She had a plan to get Mrs. Meeks alone so they could have a private conversation. If it didn’t work, she’d have to think of something else.
As the casket came into view, Ralph held Hattie’s arm.
Hattie’s heart skipped a beat. Jason didn’t look like himself. He was in a suit, of all things. His hair was combed, parted to the side. Gone were his beautiful soft curls that always framed his face. Oh Orin, the poor boy’s been erased. She pulled her glance away.
A middle-aged woman stood to the side. Dressed discreetly in a blue pantsuit, she was tall with dark thick hair. A string of pearls circled a swan-like neck. The resemblance to her son was clear. Her smile was warm as she reached out to every hand that was offered. “Thanks for coming,” she said with a vague smile. Over the condolences, she nodded. “Yes. Yes. Thank you.”
Moments later, it was their turn. The envelope. Hattie fumbled into her purse.
Ralph reached out. “I’m Ralph. Jason was my paperboy.”
“Ralph Troutman?” she asked, not letting go of his hand.
He nodded.
“Jason spoke of you often. He’d deliver the ads earlier in the week for you.”
Ralph smiled. “That he did.”
“And you were so generous at Christmas. Thank you.”
Ralph turned to Hattie. “And this is Mrs. Moon.”
Hattie stood straighter and offered the woman the envelope. “We took a collection on our street.”
Mrs. Meeks took the envelope. “Thank you. You’re Mrs. Moon?”
“Yes dear.”
“On Woodberry?”
Hattie’s heart skipped a beat.
“So, it was you who—” The woman’s face crumbled. She pulled a tissue from her sleeve. “I’m so sorry. You were one of his favorite customers.”
“Jason was a fine young man,” Hattie reached for the woman’s wrist. “The best.”
Mrs. Meeks smiled weakly.
Hattie looked around nervously. She had two options before they had to move forward. She decided to try the first.
“My dear, would you mind if we just sat for a moment? I feel a little off.”
Mrs. Meeks glanced around the room. “Of course. There are some chairs right over here.” She then announced to the others close by. “I need to sit for a bit. Excuse me.”
Hattie reached for Mrs. Meeks’s arm. “Ralph, please go sit with Muriel. We won’t be long.”
The crowd stood back and allowed the two women to settle in the front row.
Hattie knew she only had a few minutes. She leaned forward in the chair and whispered. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. It’s nothing like they say. Do you understand?”
Mrs. Meeks gave a slight nod.
“Don’t listen to anything or anyone. Not the rumors. Not the neighbors. Not the police.”
“It’s been hard.”
“I know. I just need to tell you you’re not alone.”
For the first time, Hattie noticed the dark circles under Mrs. Meeks’ eyes.
Hattie continued. “Would you mind if I called you sometime soon.”
Mrs. Meeks nodded.
Hattie reached for the woman’s hand. “Now let’s sit for a moment. There’s no hurry for either of us. When you’re ready to go back, let me know.”
Mrs. Meeks said, “I’m so tired.”
“I understand.”
“It’s been a nightmare.”
“Yes. It has.”
Mrs. Meeks covered her mouth as if to stifle a sob, then reached down and touched the string of pearls. “He bought these for me. My birthday is next week.”
“They’re beautiful.”
With brimming tears, she looked directly at Hattie. “They were in his pocket.”
“Excuse me?”
“When they found him.”
Hattie looked more closely. From what she could tell, they were real, like the strand she had misplaced. Each delicate pearl was knotted separately. “They’re beautiful.”
“I know they’re probably not real.”
Hattie looked closer. None of the pearls were perfectly round. “Actually, they may be.”
“Really?”
“Yes. No two pearls are the same. All unique. Like each of us.”
Mrs. Meeks sniffled. “I haven’t taken them off since the police gave them to me.”
Hattie suddenly felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right. Why would Jason have been carrying around a string of pearls? Another thought crept into her mind. It was absurd of course but…“I suppose it has a wonderful clasp.”
“Yes. Very beautiful.” Mrs. Meeks tugged the strand around. “Looks like silver.”
Hattie blinked. Surely her eyes were playing tricks. But they weren’t. The clasp was silver. She knew that for a fact.
Mrs. Meeks continued. “I know it’s missing something but it’s beautiful.”
Yes. A diamond had fallen out of the setting many years ago leaving an empty bezel.
Suddenly Hattie was roiling in a sea of color.
“Mrs. Moon, are you okay?”
Chapter Eighteen
They had been in the examining room for two hours. Hattie adjusted the thin blanket around her.
Ralph asked, “Sure you don’t want anything?”
“I’m fine. Just a little chilled.”
“I can get another blanket.”
“No. Thank you. I just want to go home.”
“I hear ya,” Ralph said.
Ralph and Muriel looked at each other.
Hattie closed her eyes. Her thoughts had been racing. Seeing the necklace was a shock, but now she had to come to terms with a situation f
ar worse––was she a dithering old fool after all? At every turn, she had dealt with the facts and believed Jason innocent. Now she waivered. Was it possible he was not the young man she knew?
“Sweetie,” Muriel said.
Hattie opened her eyes.
“I’ll make a nice pie when we get back and bring it over after dinner. Muriel turned to Ralph. “Did Howie say when he’d get here?”
Ralph looked at his watch. “Any minute.”
Hattie sighed. Howie. Seeing her son wasn’t going to be pleasant. She’d have to make him understand the doctors found nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Ralph continued. “After he arrives, I’ll drive Muriel home.”
Muriel shot a glance at Hattie, then smiled brightly. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden.”
“No problem,” he said and turned to Hattie. “How about some tea?”
A small window of opportunity finally opened. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
He stood. “Sure you’ll be okay?”
“Muriel’s here. And, well, we are in a hospital.”
Ralph winked. “Good point.” He walked toward the door. “Behave yourselves.”
Muriel laughed. “Now Ralph what could we do in this little room?”
“Not sure. That’s the problem.”
Once the door closed, Muriel sighed. “He’s a dreamboat, isn’t he?”
“Muriel, I need to talk with you about what happened. I’m still in shock. I don’t understand. None of it makes sense.”
Muriel reached over. “Calm down. Whatever it is, we got it.”
Hattie’s heart began pounding. How could she tell anyone what she had seen?
“I fainted for a reason.”
“I know. Very stressful. And there I was sitting on the sidelines. I’m so damn yella.”
“Oh Muriel, that wasn’t it.” Hattie’s voice became a whisper. “I was speaking to Mrs. Meeks.”
Muriel leaned in close. “Yes. I saw the two of you.”
“She was wearing pearls.”
“I know. Such elegance.”
“She told me they had been found on Jason.”
Muriel blinked. “She was wearing something that was on a dead body? That gives me the jeeper creepers. Of course, it was her son. Still…”
“Muriel, please listen carefully. We need to figure this out.”
“Sweetie, figure what out?”
“The pearls she was wearing were mine. Orin had given them to me years ago.”
A perplexed look clouded Muriel’s face. “Are you sure the necklace was yours?”
“Oh Muriel. It was the exact same clasp. A rectangular piece of marcasite with the center diamond missing. The diamond had fallen out years ago.”
Muriel sat back. “Wow.”
“I thought I had misplaced them, but they must have been stolen.”
“Stolen? By who?” Muriel stopped cold, then regrouped. “You mean Jason? Oh my bejesus, did he get into your house that morning?”
“No. Definitely not that morning. But…”
“But what?”
“Muriel, do you think he would have done such a thing?”
Her friend became uncharacteristically pensive. “But why would a teenage boy steal pearls? I mean seriously?”
“Mrs. Meeks said they must have been a birthday present for her.”
“Okay. But if he didn’t steal them that morning, when did he take them?”
Hattie shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t worn them in a while.”
“There you go. It could have been anyone. Maybe he found them on his route.”
Hattie brightened. That was possible. Surely, he came across things all the time. Although it was dark that morning. And, given the weather, he must have been in a hurry. Suddenly, Hattie thought of Orin. What was that he always said? Yes. “Whatever anyone believes is a choice. Facts speak for themselves.” So, what were the facts? Only one she could think of––her pearls were stolen.
“Seeing my necklace on Mrs. Meeks threw me for a loop.”
“Yeah. Jeez. Did you say something to her?”
Hattie shook her head. “No. I was in shock. Besides they weren’t mine anymore.”
“Right. Finders keepers, Losers weepers. Bah. Never liked that saying. Especially when whatever’s found isn’t lost, but stolen.”
“I suppose.” Hattie peered into Muriel’s eyes. “There’s something else that’s bothering me. And I feel awful about it.”
Muriel reached for Hattie. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking the most horrible thought...”
Muriel squeezed her hand. “Get it out. It can’t be that bad.”
Hattie gathered resolve. “Muriel, could we be wrong? Did Jason have a drug problem?”
“OMG, Hattie. That’s crazy.”
“But this is what we know…”
Hattie summarized the oddities surrounding Jason’s death: his disheveled look, the misdelivered papers, where he was found, the marks on his arm, a wad of money, and now her stolen pearls.
After Hattie finished, Muriel said, “When you put it that way, it could be possible. But like we’ve always agreed, Jason didn’t do drugs. And let me tell you. I watch a lot of these murder shows. All we’re seeing is circumstantial evidence—” Muriel stopped cold. Her eyes brightened. “OMG, Hattie. I got it! The police. It had to be them. They do that sort of thing. Plant evidence. I saw it on TV. There was this couple down in Louisiana or someplace where this cop was having an affair with a married woman. She turned up dead in the river. A suicide. But it was her cop lover who killed her.”
Hattie reared back. “Why?”
“She wanted to leave her husband and marry him. I guess the cop wasn’t so crazy about the idea. Which makes absolutely no sense since her husband was way cuter with a good job. The cop was seriously bad news, a big, hairy, fat lug who gambled and liked porno. Suicide my foot. He almost got away with murder.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Anyway, the police have the opportunity and the know-how to plant evidence and stage any kind of murder or suicide.”
“But the police didn’t get involved until the body was found. Sure, they could have planted some things. But not the pearls. How would they have gotten them?”
Muriel frowned. “Right.”
“But we’re closer today than yesterday. The pearls connect my house with Jason’s body. And this implication leads to another. Whoever stole the pearls is the murderer.”
Muriel looked horrified. “You mean the murderer was in your house?!”
“It would seem so.”
Muriel shivered. “Mother of God.”
“Now over the years, Jason had come in a lot. The kitchen, back hall, living room. But never ever upstairs.”
“So, who has ever gone upstairs?”
“Howie of course.”
“Naturally.”
Hattie paused. “And Ralph.”
“Ralph? When?”
“Muriel, he knows the house better than me. Every nook and cranny.”
“But he would never steal. Let alone murder someone.”
Hattie took a deep breath. The only other person she saw that morning was Ralph. What had he said? Yes, that he had gone to breakfast. He also knew about the backyard and the opening in the fence.
“Not Ralph. You know that, right? Besides he’s my boyfriend. Oh Lordy of flies, I finally meet somebody and he’s a murderer? No way. Besides what’s his motive? Why would he do such a thing? Now take that Scott Richards. Something ain’t right with that guy. And Wolfgang. Don’t get me started. And of course, there’s Bailey.”
Suddenly a missing piece was put into place. A piece, she had completely overlooked. “Muriel, you’re a genius.”
Muriel shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It’s just that I’ve come to know Ralph. Dare I say, love Ralph. I know he can be gruff and distant but he’s a prince. Truly and forever.”
“Yes, of course. But that’s not wha
t I meant.”
Muriel looked confused.
“The murderer had a motive for planting my pearls in Jason’s pocket. Now, I can’t be certain, but I can think of one reason. When cash and valuables are found on a body, what does that tell you? The victim doesn’t look all that innocent. In this case, it’s another ruse to make poor Jason look like a drug dealer.”
Muriel’s jaw dropped.
Suddenly, the door opened. “Got your tea.”
Color drained from Muriel’s face.
Ralph reached for the bed table and swung it over to Hattie. “I put the tea bag in. Here’s the sugar, creamer, stirrer.” He reached into his jacket. “Napkins. Couldn’t forget those. And a newspaper if anyone wants a section.”
Neither woman spoke.
Standing straighter, he glanced first at Hattie, then at Muriel. “Is everything okay?”
“Great. Fantastic,” Muriel said loudly.
Hattie nodded and reached for the tea. “Thanks Ralph.”
He planted himself in a corner chair. “When I spoke with Howie I told him the doctors found nothing and that you probably had fainted. They’ll want you to make an appointment with your doc. I’m sure Howie will set that up. If you need a ride, just let me know. Anyway, to be honest, I didn’t feel so great there myself. Such a shame about that kid.” Ralph turned to Muriel. “Glad it’s over, huh?”
Muriel piped in, “Most def.” She flashed a glance at Hattie. “I’m going to use the ladies room. Won’t be long.”
After Muriel left, Ralph unfolded the newspaper and began reading.
Watching him reminded her of Orin after dinner. There Orin would sit, relishing the news, sometimes with commentary, sometimes reading to her. Just being in the same room with him made her feel safe and loved. Interaction between people went beyond words. Often it could simply be a presence.
She reconsidered Ralph. Yes, he often went into her house. But steal? He was so honest about the hours he put in and the work he did. Nevertheless, she decided to test the water.
“When Jason was found, he had a necklace in his pocket.”
Ralph looked up. “Excuse me?”
Hattie watched Ralph carefully. “Pearls. What do you make of that?”
“You mean jewelry?”
“Yes.”
Murder in the Pachysandra Page 14