"Does Tim look like any of the fellows she dated?"
"Not to speak of. Now she spent some time with her aunt in Saw Mills the summer she got into the family way, so it might not even have been anybody from Byerly."
I wasn't sure if the next question would shock Aunt Nora or not, but I had to ask. "Were there any rumors about Tim's father being white?"
"I thought that's what you were getting at. Of course people wondered, on account of his coloring. She was right much darker. Of course, that happens sometimes. Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?"
"There are three men I need to talk to: Pete Fredericks, Joe Bowley, and Bobby Plummer. Do you know them?"
"Just to speak to. Do you think that one of them killed Fannie?"
"Maybe." I explained why. "Do they all still work at the mill?"
"I believe so."
"Then maybe I could go talk to them up there. Do you think Thaddeous could get me in?" Uncle Buddy and Willis worked at the mill, too, but as quiet as Uncle Buddy was, he wouldn't be nearly as good at introducing me to the men, and Willis worked the night shift.
"I imagine he could. I'll ask." She moved her mouth from the phone, but I could still hear her as she called, "Thaddeous! Laurie Anne needs to do some detective work at the mill." I cringed. "Never you mind what it's about. Can you get her in to see some men?" She named them, and he said something I couldn't quite make out. "I didn't think of that. Let me check." She came back to the phone. "Laurie Anne? The mill's Christmas party is tomorrow night and Thaddeous says you can go with him. That way he can introduce you."
"Doesn't Thaddeous have a date?"
There was a small sigh. "I'm afraid not."
"Then I'd love to go."
After that, I asked her for background on the three men, and had to write like crazy for nearly half an hour to keep up with her. And this for men she said she barely knew.
She finally stopped to take a breath. "That's all I know."
"That's plenty," I said. The F.B.I. should have such detail.
We talked a bit longer after that, mostly about what I should wear to the party. Once I hung up, I explained the arrangements to Richard. "When I talk to them, I'll be looking for a family resemblance."
"Which you will no doubt be able to spot instantly."
"You're just jealous because I can see these things and you can't."
"Is that so?"
"It is."
"So tell me––do you think Rudolph looks more like Donner or Mrs. Donner?"
After that, I had no choice but to chase him through the house with a sofa pillow.
* * *
Thaddeous picked me up at seven o'clock the next evening, and after Richard kissed me and told Thaddeous not to keep me out too late, we headed for the party. It felt odd to get kissed before a date instead of after.
"You look real nice, Laurie Anne," Thaddeous said as he handed me into his pickup truck.
"Thank you," I said, smoothing down the skirt of my deep red velvet dress. "You look pretty sharp, too." It was a shame he didn't have a real date. Poor Thaddeous was tall and nice–looking, and like his mama, he always had a smile on his face. Despite that, he had the worst luck with women of any man I had ever met.
We pulled out of the driveway and Thaddeous asked, "What's Richard going to do with himself tonight?"
"He thought he'd go over to the mall in Hickory and do some last–minute shopping."
"He's a brave fellow. That place is a madhouse this time of year." There was a short pause. "Mama told me what you and Richard are up to. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Just taking me to the party is a big help."
"I know you want to talk to those men, so I figured I'd point them out to you and maybe introduce you to them. Then I'll leave you alone so you can see what you can find out."
"That's perfect."
"Now I don't want to see you going out into any dark corners with them. If one of them did what you think he did, you don't have any business being alone with him. And if you get into any trouble, you holler. Mama and Daddy are going to be at the party, too, and so is Willis. So somebody is going to be watching you the whole time."
I suppose it wasn't very liberated, but they meant well, and Thaddeous's advice was good. "I'll be careful."
The party was being held in the Byerly High School gym, because there really wasn't anyplace else in Byerly big enough, but the decorations committee had outdone themselves in making it look nice. It was still early, so after Thaddeous and I checked our coats, we headed for the refreshments table. It wasn't long before Thaddeous said, "There's Joe Bowley now. Are you ready?"
"You bet." While we waited for Joe to fill his plate, I remembered what Aunt Nora had told me about him.
"Joe is Burt Walters's second–in–command, thanks to Joe's daddy," she had said. "Don't get me wrong––Joe's a right smart fellow, and he'd probably have that job even if his daddy wasn't Big Bill Walters's best friend. The Bowleys had some money, though not nearly as much as the Walters, and Joe's daddy made sure Joe went to the same college as Burt. Joe always was a good community man, but since his wife died, he's really thrown himself into charity work."
Joe turned out to be balding and plump, and shook my hand enthusiastically when Thaddeous introduced us. When my cousin then came up with an excuse to leave us alone, Joe seemed perfectly happy to keep me company.
"Now you live in Boston, don't you?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Now don't you 'sir' me," he said, wagging his finger. "You'll make me feel old. Call me Joe. Everybody does."
"All right, Joe." I took a bite of baked ham while trying to figure out how I could move the conversation in the direction I wanted it to go. "They certainly laid out a nice spread."
"I bet you don't get good cooking like this up North."
"That's the truth." That gave me an idea. "It's the barbeque I really miss. There's a couple of places that sell barbeque, but it's more Texas–style than North Carolina–style."
"That's one reason I could never live up there. I don't know what I'd do without good barbeque and hush puppies."
"I just try to get as much as I can when I'm home." Now for the subtle part. "I ate over at Pigwick's the other day. Tim Topper's place." I watched him closely for a reaction.
"They fix some good barbeque," Joe admitted without blinking, "but I think I like Fork–in–the–Road a mite better."
I suppose I shouldn't have expected him to turn pale at the mention of Tim Topper, because surely he had heard him named any number of times in the past twenty–five years. I tried something a bit more direct. "My Aunt Nora says that the barbeque there was better when Fannie Topper was cooking it. She said Fannie had a real knack for it."
Maybe he winced a little at that, but really no more than anybody would when reminded of an old murder. Then he launched into a list of recommendations for other barbeque houses across North Carolina, from Bubba's Barbeque in Charlotte to Buck Overton's in Mt. Airy to the Barbeque Lodge in Raleigh.
I guess he could tell that I was losing interest, because he finally said, "I guess you can tell that I enjoy my food." He patted his stomach with a grin. "You'd never know that I was the star player of my baseball team in high school."
"Oh, it still shows," I lied politely.
"My daddy thought it was important to play sports. Teamwork and all that. He always said, 'Even if you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter.'"
It was an ancient joke, but I joined in when he chuckled.
Then I asked, "Didn't I hear you played for the mill, too? On the championship team?"
He puffed his chest out a bit. "One of the proudest moments of my life, winning that game. Nothing like playing sports to make friends. I still keep in touch with all those men." Then he looked down at his plate. "Well, most of them."
I knew he was talking about Caleb Wilkins, but then he said that after talking so much about good food, he had to go ref
Thaddeous came up to me once Joe was gone. "How's it going?"
"Not much yet." I looked around, and saw that the place had pretty much filled up. "Have you seen either of the other two?"
"I just saw Bobby Plummer over by the dance floor. Come on."
When Aunt Nora told me that Bobby Plummer was said to have lace on his underwear, I had to stifle giggles. I hadn't heard that particular euphemism for being gay in years. She had gone on to say, "He was married for a year or so, but after the divorce, he moved back in with his mama. Now that she's gone, he lives by himself. He goes down to Charlotte a lot on the weekends, and somebody I know swears he saw him in one of those gay bars, dressed in leather pants." Damning evidence to be sure, but I had to wonder what Aunt Nora's friend had been doing at that bar.
Bobby was one of the better–dressed men at the party, both because of the quality of his suit and because of the style with which he wore it. Unlike Joe, he had a full head of dark hair, and a trim build. Once again Thaddeous introduced me, and then remembered that he was needed elsewhere.
We chatted, but I couldn't help noticing that Bobby was tapping his feet to the music.
"They're playing good stuff," I said, intending to somehow lead this to the celebration party at Fannie's.
But then Bobby asked, "Would you like to dance?"
I said, "I'd love to," but added the warning, "I'm not very good."
He smiled and said, "I'm sure you're wonderful."
Soon enough, he learned that I hadn't been exaggerating, but he was good enough to make me look competent. Unfortunately, I had never been one of those people who could carry on a conversation while dancing, and from the way Bobby was going, he'd have been happy to keep dancing all night long.
Finally I said, "I think I need to catch my breath."
"Of course." He led me to a table. "Can I get you a drink?"
"That would be very nice," I said. It would also give me a chance to come up with an approach. By the time Bobby returned with two glasses of punch, I was ready for him.
"I think I've been a desk jockey too long," I said. "I just don't have your stamina. You must be active in sports."
"Sometimes," he said. "I prefer working out on my own. I have a NordicTrack in my basement."
"I thought I heard something about your playing baseball. I was talking to one of your teammates earlier. Joe Bowley."
"That was years ago," he said. "The year we won was the last time that any of us played for the mill."
"Really? Why is that?"
"You're too young to remember, but it was after our victory party that Fannie Topper was killed, and one of the team members was arrested for the murder. A fellow named Caleb Wilkins."
"Oh?" I said, hoping I sounded interested enough to make him keep talking, but not so interested as to make him suspicious.
"Big Bill Walters fired Caleb right after he was arrested, saying that he couldn't keep a murder suspect on the payroll. We team members didn't think that was fair. After all, Caleb hadn't been convicted. We talked about quitting, but since we couldn't do that, we decided we'd at least quit the team. If Walters wouldn't stand by Caleb, we weren't going to play just so he could have a trophy."
"So you turned in your hats?" Maybe I could find out who hadn't returned his hat, the one who had lost it at Fannie's.
But Bobby's next words dashed that hope. "No, we burned them. We set a fire in a trash can on the parking lot during lunch and tossed in every single cap. Big Bill was furious, but there wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't fire all of us."
I had to grin, even if it had ruined my half–formed idea. Unless... "That's great. Whose idea was it to burn them?"
"Oh, I think we all agreed on it. It was the sixties, and the revolutionary spirit had struck, even in Byerly."
By now I had my breath back, and Bobby asked me to dance again. In other circumstances, I'd have been happy to, but I declined with thanks and went looking for Thaddeous.
Instead I found Aunt Nora. "Are you enjoying the party?" she asked in an obviously innocent tone of voice.
"I'm having a wonderful time.”
Then Aunt Nora lowered her voice. "Have you talked to them all?"
"Two out of three. I still need to track down Pete Fredericks."
"You come with me, and we'll find him." Aunt Nora wasn't as efficient a guide as Thaddeous was because she had to stop and say hello to just about everybody we saw, but eventually we made our way over to a tall, thin man with short, graying hair and dark eyes. He was standing alone near the edge of the room, smoking a cigarette.
"Hey there, Pete," Aunt Nora said. "Pete, do you know my niece, Laurie Anne? She lives up in Boston."
We made the obligatory small talk about how different Massachusetts was from North Carolina. Then Aunt Nora excused herself to go powder her nose, leaving me alone with Pete.
I try not to have any illusions about my feminine charm, but from what Aunt Nora had told me about Pete, I was halfway expecting him to make a pass at me once we were alone.
She had said, "Pete has an eye for the ladies. I think he's gone out with every woman in town, or at least with any of them that would. He wanted to date Edna once, but she wasn't about to put up with his roving. He had to get married about fifteen years ago, but Martha knew what she was getting into and she seems pretty happy. He's probably still running around, but at least he's careful."
I had to wonder if he had dated Fannie Topper, but I could not for the life of me come up with a way to gently broach that subject. The best opening gambit I could devise was, "What do you do at the mill, Pete?"
"Supervisor of dying right now, but I gave notice just this week."
"Is that so? Are you going to work for a different mill?"
"No, I'm going to work with my wife's uncle. Maybe you know him. Harry Giles."
"Over at Giles Funeral Home?"
"I like to say that I'm moving from dying, to dying." Darned if he didn't already have that solemn, restrained smile down pat.
I suppose I should have been able to easily move the conversation from death to a particular death, but I just couldn't do it. I even asked about how they made bodies presentable for open casket ceremonies, specifically when the deceased had died by violence, but the answer was far more graphic than I had wanted and left no room to ask about Fannie Topper.
Trying to change the subject, I mentioned playing baseball, and he told me about a grisly case when his uncle had a client who died from a blow to the head from a baseball. I don't even want to think about what he told me when I mentioned barbeque.
By the time Aunt Nora came to rescue me, I didn't know whether or not Pete was the murderer, but I was pretty sure that he wouldn't be fooling around on his wife any more. Not if that was his idea of pillow talk.
* * *
The party went on for hours, but I could have left right after talking to Pete Fredericks for all the good it did me. I hadn't learned anything useful. Still, I didn't want to make Thaddeous miss the celebration, so I stuck around and tried to have fun. I even danced with Bobby Plummer some more.
It was around one o'clock when Thaddeous and I finally headed for the parking lot.
"Sorry I wasn't much of a date for you, Thaddeous," I said.
"That's all right. Did you get what you were after?"
"Not really."
"Don't you worry. I know you'll puzzle it out."
I was glad somebody had confidence in me. At that point, I sure didn't.
We were all the way to Thaddeous's pickup before I saw the man leaning up against it.
"Richard!" I said. "What are you doing here?"
"Were you afraid I'd keep her out too late?" Thaddeous said with a grin.
"Just couldn't stand being away from her any longer," Richard said, and gave me a big hug.
Thaddeous snickered. "I suppose you're going to steal my date."
"You've got it."
I thanked Thaddeous again for his help, and got into the car with Richard while my cousin drove away.
"If you came to get me to find out what I learned, you wasted your trip," I said.
"That bad?"
"Just about." I told him everything I had learned from the three men, and concluded with, "I didn't get the first hint of a motive, unless Fannie was blackmailing Bobby Plummer because he's gay."
"Is he gay?"
"I don't even know that for sure."
"What about family resemblances? Could any of the three have been Tim's father?"
"He doesn't favor any of them. I had wondered if Pete could have been the sower of wild oats, but the way he is now, he'd be more interested in Fannie dead than alive." I threw my hands up. "It was a complete waste of time."
"Not complete. The part about the hats was significant. Burning them couldn't be coincidence. Now we're sure that the murderer was one of the team members."
"True," I said, "but we were pretty sure of that before."
Richard patted my leg comfortingly.
We drove a few minutes longer, and it dawned on me that we weren't headed for Aunt Maggie's house. "Richard, where are we going?"
"To Pigwick's."
"At this time of night? I imagine they're closed." Richard didn't answer. "What are you up to?"
"Nothing much," he said. "I just figured out where Fannie hid her money, that's all."
"You what? Where?"
He pulled a paperback book out of his jacket pocket. "The answer is in here."
I read the cover. "Oliver Twist?"
"Tim said that his mother loved Dickens, and I've read a little Dickens myself. Contrary to popular opinion, I do enjoy things other than Shakespeare. All that talk about Tim's father reminded me that Dickens used more than one case of disputed parentage or illegitimate birth. I thought I remembered something about a hiding place, too, so I went to the Waldenbooks at the mall and looked at Dickens books until I found what I was looking for."
I was impressed. Dickens wrote long books. "And?"
He handed me the book, and switched on the car's dome light. "I've got it marked."
There was a slip of paper sticking out near the end of the book, and when I opened it, I saw that Richard had circled a passage. "You wrote in a book?"
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