Half Past Mourning

by Fleeta Cunningham

  Chapter 10

  With her mind still fogged from Paula’s distraught confession the night before and from her own declarations to Peter, Nina didn’t see any reason for the sheriff’s request that she come by his office, not on a miserable, rainy morning when the gloom outside matched the wretched state of her internal miasma. Still, she had come, because it wasn’t in her nature to refuse.

  “Now, Nina, I’ve got a notion that we’re gonna get to the bottom of this mess pretty soon,” Al Hayes insisted. He stretched his boots out before him and picked up a pen from its longhorn holder, rolling it between his palms as he settled into his chair. “After I talked to Marigold last night, I looked over those telegrams she’s been hoarding all this time.” He pointed the pen at Nina in disgust. “You know what I found? Nothing! Nothing in them to say where Danny is. They were sent from all over, wherever there’s a racetrack or a big car event.” He snorted. “Useless! So I sent some inquiries along to the authorities in Florida, asked ’em to check driver’s license records for young Danny Wilson. No word from them yet, but it stands to reason that he’d get a license there to replace the one he left behind. If they get anything, I’ll have at least a fairly recent address, but I don’t think we’d better depend on them for fast action. They got problems of their own to sort out. Piddling little inquiry from Santa Rita, Texas, ain’t gonna start a stampede for information.”

  “If the Florida authorities don’t give your request much priority, why do you say we might soon find out where Danny is?” All desire Nina had felt to find Danny Wilson was rapidly sinking under the weight of each new disclosure. Danny was a cheat, a liar, and his heart functioned only to pump blood. Why should she go on hoping to find him? Why would she care, after he’d betrayed everything she had believed they shared? Her first impulse on waking, this sodden, grey morning, was to pull the cover over her head and hide from the world. The sheriff’s call had changed that plan. Now the rain pouring down outside seemed a perfect backdrop for the dull ache in her heart. “And I don’t think it matters anymore where he is, Sheriff Hayes. He doesn’t want to be with me. That’s clear.” She made a halfhearted brush at damp spots on her periwinkle-striped shirtwaist dress. Thunder growled outside the window, and she wished her tears would flow as easily as the rain. They wouldn’t; she had cried all her tears. She had none left.

  Boots hit the floor, and she looked up to find Sheriff Hayes looming over the desk, glaring down at her. “It matters, little lady, and don’t you think otherwise!” He stomped around the desk and settled his bony rump on the desktop. “This isn’t just about some doofus getting cold feet and ducking out on his bride, child. This is about a citizen of this county gone missing for some two years, and a boneheaded sheriff being too dang pompous to recognize it. It’s about me not doing the job I’m elected to do, Nina, and I’m not too proud to own up to that. I know you’ve been fighting for a real investigation all along, and you’ve been all by yourself. You can’t quit now that you’ve got some help and there’s a trail to follow. No, ma’am, you’re not going to give up now. I know better.”

  Nina sank back in her chair, letting the sheriff’s insistence wash over her. “Do you really have something to work with? A place to go with the search?” She was going through the motions, letting the sheriff have his say, but she had no heart for the undertaking.

  Al Hayes planted one boot on the floor for balance while he sat on the corner of his desk. “Well, I’ve got more than I had before. I’ve been hammering at Marigold, and she finally admitted she’s got no real idea where that boy of hers is, any more than we do. She can’t call him, send a letter, or even make a guess where he’s living. Been fooling herself with those telegrams, damn it, and impeding any real investigation. Got her head in the sand, denying she’s not actually heard from Danny since the day he left. And like I said, no information in the dang telegrams, not even a clue about where he’s living.”

  Nina drew a sharp breath. “Marigold really doesn’t know, either?” She bit down on her lip hard. “I mean, she seemed so assured, so unconcerned, that I thought they were...close.”

  “Well, they’re not. He’s not called or written, except for those worthless telegrams, and it’s high time somebody made some sense out of this mess. Reckon it’s up to me to get things rolling.” The sheriff hitched his sharp-creased trousers up and settled his gunbelt. “What I did get from Marigold is the name of that law firm in Dallas that handles Danny’s affairs. I figure they’ve got to know where he is, even if nobody else does. They dole out the money, or see that it’s done. I don’t imagine Danny Wilson’s got himself a job to earn his way when there’s millions sitting there with his name on the pile. I plan on driving over to Dallas about midweek, visiting with those legal minds to see what’s what, and I sorta think you ought to go along, missy.”

  “Me?” The thought of dealing with Danny’s lawyers dismayed her. She’d be nothing to them, just the girl Danny left behind, probably for some other woman. “What could I do? You’re the sheriff; they have to talk to you. But me?”

  Al Hayes shook his head. “You’re acting like you don’t have a stake in this game, Nina Kirkland. You do. You’re Danny’s legal wife. You’ve got a marriage license duly executed and filed in this county, don’t you? You did marry that boy, as I recall. If nothing else, you go meet these lawyers so they know you’re real, you care about Danny, and as his wife you expect to know where he is.”

  Nina stared out at the rain pounding the courthouse square outside. The sheriff was right. If anyone knew where Danny Wilson was, it would have to be the law firm that oversaw his inheritance. The reason he’d insisted they go to Dallas for their short wedding trip was to sign the papers that would transfer all that money to his own name. The lawyers would have been party to that plan.

  Could she make a final effort? Nina wondered whether one more confrontation, one more set of questions would give her answers or just reveal more duplicity in Danny’s character. The sheriff had an implacable glint in his eyes, his mouth narrow with determination. He wouldn’t let her drop the search now. Resigned to his plan, she sighed. “All right, Sheriff Hayes, I’ll make the trip with you, make one more attempt at figuring out where Danny went. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I can see your point. When do you plan to go?”

  His careworn hand came down on her shoulder. “Good girl.” He patted her head as if she were three. “I can get away Wednesday. And I’m thinking maybe that friend of yours, that Professor Shayne, might go along. He’s been involved one way and another, and I think he might tell those city lawyers how he came to find those things of Danny’s, reinforce the idea that there’s reason to be alarmed about the boy. You wouldn’t mind him tagging along, I take it?”

  Mind if Peter comes along? “No, no, I think that might be a good thing, Sheriff. He’s been a lot of help ever since I told him about Danny. He wants to be sure his ownership of the T-Bird isn’t in question. Do you think he’d mind coming?”

  She saw the speculative gleam in the sheriff’s glance. “Reckon we’ll find out,” he answered. “He’ll be along in a bit and can tell us. I called him to come on over same time I called you.” Hayes frowned, staring out into the rain for a moment. “You got your marriage license where you can grab it?”

  “Yes, I have it,” she answered, with a quick grimace at the memory of stuffing it into the back of her scrapbook, never looking at it.

  “Then plan to carry it with you. We may need it—might help to convince the grey suits that a small-town sheriff and a fourth grade schoolteacher aren’t put off by city offices and high-powered law degrees. We come prepared to get answers.”

  The door to the sheriff’s office creaked open. Russet hair damp with rain, Peter Shayne came in, shaking like a wet dog, his sodden hat in one hand.

  “I hope you’re going to tell me something good, Sheriff, to make up for hauling me out in this flood,” he said, his shirt collar and sleeves ringed wet under his rain jacke
t.

  Sheriff Hayes explained his plans for meeting with Danny Wilson’s lawyers and added his request that Peter come along to explain the discovery of Danny’s car and the license hidden in the trunk.

  “I think mebbe when they hear how Danny flat disappeared from his own wedding, how you wound up with his car and found his license hid in the trunk lining, they’re gonna be real anxious to cooperate with helping us find him. Can’t be a big problem just to tell us where all that money gets deposited and how they get his income tax filed. They gotta have an address of some kind.” Al Hayes made it sound straightforward and easy, but Nina had doubts.

  Peter Shayne voiced concern, as well. “It sounds easy enough, Sheriff, and I’ll be glad to go along if Nina agrees, but lawyers aren’t ever happy about sharing information about their clients.” He turned to Nina. “It’s going to be a hard day, sweetheart, driving two hundred miles to Dallas, putting in whatever time it takes to get through to the lawyers, and then driving back. Do you want to make it all in one day?”

  Nina hadn’t thought about how draining the trip would be. Traveling in the sheriff’s car wouldn’t be much of a treat, either, encumbered as it was with his equipment and set up for transporting suspects rather than young schoolteachers. “It sounds pretty grim...”

  Peter dropped into the chair beside her. “Look, let’s make it easy, shall we? You and I will drive over in my Merc, plan to stay in the city for the night, and come back Thursday morning.” He took her hand, and the stroke of his thumb along her palm was somehow comforting. “This is liable to be another stretch for you, Nina, and you’ve had about enough of those lately. The drive in the morning won’t be bad, but this time of year, coming back, it’s going to be like driving through an oven. And you’re going to be frazzled from getting with the lawyers. No matter how well it goes, that meeting isn’t going to be a walk in the park for you. Let’s make this one as easy for you as we can, shall we? Stay over and have a quiet dinner and get a fresh start the next morning?”

  The sheriff interrupted before Nina could answer. “Good thinking, boy. I’ll have to come back, but there’s no reason Nina should be put through that kind of a wringer. You plan to drive her over, and we’ll meet up at that lawyer’s office. Soon as we wind up that business, I’ll be heading back.” He turned his attention back to Nina. “Mebbe have a means of getting in touch with that missing husband of yours. An official search this time; not something to concern yourself with, Nina, till I get some results. You can take your time coming back.” The sheriff flicked the brim of his hat, removing a speck of imaginary dust, and looked pleased with himself.

  “I don’t know,” Nina began. “If we find out where Danny is, I should be where I can talk to him or...” She looked at the two men opposite and saw refusal written in both faces. “No? You don’t think I could help?”

  Al Hayes crossed his arms across his narrow chest and glared. “I’ll take care of the talking when we find Danny Wilson. I think the first thing we better find out is if selling that car involved any shenanigans that concern this office. Once I’m clear on that, he can talk to you or Marigold or President Eisenhower, for all I care. But I get him first, missy, so you might just as well take Shayne’s invitation and have yourself a little escape from all this.”

  Nina’s hand felt warm and reassured, tucked into Peter’s larger paw. He stroked it as he turned to face her. “Did you tell the sheriff about running into your friend Paula King last night?”

  Shocked at the suggestion, she sent Peter a glowering stare. “I don’t see any reason to bring it up.”

  Peter’s fingertips brushed her cheek. “I know, sweetheart, I know you don’t want to repeat what she said, but it’s information that covers another aspect of that last day. The sheriff needs to know everything that was going on in Danny’s mind, every plan he made, so he can figure out what really happened. You need to tell him, Nina.”

  Boots thumped across the floor and Sheriff Hayes rested a firm grip on Nina’s shoulder. “If you’ve learned something more about the way Danny spent the last couple of days before he left, I do need to know it, Nina. What’s up?”

  With more reluctance than she could conceal, Nina shared the story that Paula had told her the night before. “But, Sheriff, Paula doesn’t know what happened any more than I do. She’s just another woman who fell for Danny.” Nina stared down into her lap. “Heaven knows there must have been a host of women who fit that description. Paula wasn’t unique, she’s just the last we know about. And she’s suffering the torments of the damned right now, feeling like she’s lost a friend, done a terrible thing to me. I don’t think she can add anything to what you know, Sheriff.”

  “Mebbe so,” Al Hayes answered with a nod, “but I think I’ll have a quiet chat with Miss King, see if there’s something she might not want to say to you, or something she remembers but didn’t mean anything at the time.”

  “Don’t make things worse for her, please? She’s tearing herself to pieces over this as it is. And she’s getting married in a couple of weeks, so she doesn’t need any other problems.”

  “Shayne, take this young lady out of here, buy her a cup of coffee, convince her to stop playing mother hen, will you? I’ll see the two of you early Wednesday morning. We’ll leave from here at the office around eight. I’ll have us set up to meet those citified lawyers, and we’ll see if we can get Danny Wilson pinpointed on a map somewhere. Now, I’ve got work to do. You two scoot.”

  ****

  Though she wasn’t convinced her presence would carry any weight with the lawyers, Nina dressed with the care due a trip to the city and a formal meeting. Her white linen sheath fell in crisp, elegant lines, with tailored details accented by dark green piping. Her green bag and pumps picked up the contrast. She finished the look with short white gloves and a hat that was little more than a wisp of natural straw and a puff of veiling, though the spray of tiny silk leaves and daisies gave it color. She’d been at pains to tame her curls into a smoother, more sedate look. A quick check of the seams in her stockings and immaculate gloves and she was ready. She’d already tucked into her envelope bag the marriage license Sheriff Hayes had insisted she bring.

  “I guess I have to do this, Sinbad.” She rubbed the cat’s notched ear, and he opened one eye. “Do I really want to know where Danny is now? I mean now that I know so much more about him? Will it make a difference?” The cat issued a disinterested rumble.

  The sound of a car stopping in front of the house halted Nina’s conversation with the cat. Peter had arrived, and she needed to go. She picked up the small train case waiting beside the door and started out as Peter came up the walk. She looked down at the bag and back at Peter.

  “This is going to give my snoopy neighbor something new to tell Marigold.” She passed the bag to him and locked the door. “She’ll be on the phone to Marigold before we get to the corner.”

  Peter wrapped her in a bear hug. “Might as well really give her something to talk about then.”

  Nina felt a smile coming, and the smile became laughter. She hadn’t laughed in so long it felt foreign, strange, to find a glimmer of humor in her world and a warm sunny morning shining on her face.

  Peter hugged her again. “Good start for the day, sweetheart. You have such a beautiful smile, but you don’t let it out as often as you should.”

  Tempted to lean into Peter’s embrace, Nina remembered what the day ahead required and drew away. “I guess there hasn’t been much to smile about for a while.” She stepped back. “We need to go. It doesn’t do to keep Sheriff Hayes waiting. When he said about eight this morning, he meant fifteen minutes before eight, not fifteen after.”

  The drive to Dallas wasn’t as hot as Nina had feared. The morning was sunny, but the summer heat was diminished by a small cool front blowing through. Though breezy and accompanied by an occasional shower, the drive proved to be a pleasant one. Along the way she learned that Peter, the middle of three sons, was an army brat and had
changed schools nine times before he finished high school. His older brother had followed their father into military service and the youngest was still trying to decide what to do with his life.

  “I always envied other kids with brothers and sisters,” Nina admitted. “I think it would be nice to have the parental focus on somebody else once in a while. And I wish I had somebody to remember things with, now that both my folks are gone.”

  Peter took his hand off the wheel long enough to give her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “I don’t know that anybody would have wanted the three of us. Seemed like one of us was always coming up with some kind of mischief and getting the other two into it. Grandmother lived with us most of the time, and I think it took all three adults to keep us in line.” He urged the car into the heavier traffic heading into the city. “But I see what you mean about having somebody who remembers. When Matt and Mark and I get together, I think the conversation always starts with ‘remember the time we...’ and goes on to explore every antic we tried.”

  “Matthew, Peter, and Mark?”

  Peter grinned. “Yes, my mother is something of a biblical scholar and named us accordingly. If we’d been girls, we’d probably have been Ruth, Esther, and Rachel.”

  “That’s really pretty special.” Nina smiled at the idea of a feminine version of tall, lanky Peter sporting a name like Esther. “My mother got ‘Nina’ from a baby book and then added ‘Phyllis’ for my grandmother.”

  The traffic became thicker and Peter, watching for the office building that housed the law firm, kept his attention on the road. Buildings clustered tighter and taller. Nina counted block numbers till she saw a formidable grey stone building that towered over its neighbors and filled most of the city block.

  “I think that’s it, Peter.”

  Peter had already spotted the entrance and maneuvered the car toward a parking area. “Not bad on timing, either, Nina. I see the sheriff’s car at the end of the parking lot. He must be waiting inside.”