The First Ladies Club Box Set

by J B Hawker

  The children were right, of course. Something must be done about Inez.

  *

  The high school seniors were given the day after the prom off from classes to recover from their revelry.

  When Astilbe crawled out of bed in mid-morning, she wandered into her sister’s room.

  “Hey, Patsy, you up?” she said as she opened the door.

  “I guess I am, now,” Paisley said, rolling over and tossing a pillow in Astilbe’s general direction.

  Astilbe picked it up and swatted Paisley with it.

  “Shove over,” she said, plopping down onto the bed. “What happened last night with the cops?”

  Paisley sat up, stuffed the pillow behind her back, and leaned against the tufted headboard Judy had created from the remnants of an old folding screen and an antique comforter.

  “It was pretty grim,” she said, hugging her knees. “Warren was there, and he tried to make up with me, can you believe it?”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him to leave me alone. Dad talked to the deputy, I told them what happened, and they took my picture,” she said, rubbing her sore jaw. “Then we came home.”

  “What’s going to happen to Warren?”

  “Dad said he’ll probably be on probation or something, just to be sure he doesn’t try anything like this again, but he will be okay. He’s not going to prison, or anything like that,” Paisley said.

  “I suppose that is a good thing, so his whole life isn’t ruined, but it seems like he’s getting off pretty easy after what he almost did to you,” Astilbe said, sitting up cross-legged. “And he tore my dress, too. Is it ruined; do you think?”

  “I had to leave it as evidence, so you won’t be getting it back very soon. Sorry.”

  “No biggie. Hey! I’m starving. Let’s go eat,” Astilbe said, jumping off the bed and disappearing through the door.

  Paisley scooted off the bed, grabbed her robe and followed her sister at a slightly more leisurely pace.

  *

  At the doctor’s office, Detective Ransom was once again occupying the visitor’s chair beside Dr. Haleby’s desk.

  “I don’t understand, Detective. What possible bearing could my relationship with my young cousin have upon her disappearance? We were family, so of course we occasionally spent time together.”

  “I’m just trying to get a picture of Victoria’s life. We need to try to track her movements in the days before she disappeared in order to understand how she died,” Ransom replied. “I thought I’d drop in and clear up a few things. I understand you were in the habit of giving rides to Victoria and her friends.”

  Haleby’s bristly brows drew together in annoyance.

  “I certainly may have done. Like any teenage boy, I was quite proud of my car. I suppose I offered rides to just about everybody in town, at one time or another. I don’t recall the specifics, but it would have been natural for me to offer my cousin a ride, now and again.”

  “Did you give her a ride on the day she disappeared?”

  “What? Of course not! That would have stuck in my mind, I’m sure. However, I wasn’t even in the area that week. I was away at school,” Haleby said. “Are you implying that I might have spirited her away for some nefarious purpose?”

  “Just trying to get the facts straight, Doctor. No offense,” Ransom said. “I understand you were attending Oregon State in Portland, at the time. That’s about a two-hour drive from here, isn’t it?”

  “Not even that, the way I drove in those days,” Haleby said with a wry chuckle. “However, I only got home about every other month or so, what with my studies. If I had been home at the time, I might have perished with the rest of my family when our home burned down.”

  “Yes, that was quite a tragedy. I’m sorry for your loss, of course. The cause of the fire was bad wiring, I hear.”

  “That’s right,” Haleby said. “Unfortunately, smoke detectors weren’t widely used in those days. My parents, my younger brother and sister died of smoke inhalation without ever waking. I suppose that is some consolation. They wouldn’t have suffered. However, the loss was devastating to me, at the time, as you can imagine.”

  “Of course. But to get back to your cousin, do you know who her friends were?” Ransom asked.

  “Why would I? I was five years older, Detective, hardly interested in the goings on of small children. I suppose they were just other girls and boys her age.”

  “So, you didn’t hear about the older man she was involved with?” Ransom asked.

  “Older man? That’s ridiculous. Victoria was hardly sophisticated enough to interest a grown man. Who’s been feeding you that load of nonsense?”

  “We got the information from Victoria herself. She’d written about the guy in her diary.”

  “Silly schoolgirl fantasies, I assure you. My cousin was a dreamer, like most teenage girls, with her head in the clouds more often than not. I wouldn’t put great confidence in anything she wrote in her diary,” Haleby said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have patients to see.”

  Dr. Haleby stood and ushered Ransom to the door.

  Once alone, he sat at his desk with his head in his hands for several minutes before letting Gwennie know he was ready to see the next patient.

  *

  Ransom got into his car and pulled out his phone to enter notes on the interview. He entered the date, then stared at the screen.

  “What can I write?” he muttered.

  He’d got nothing new. The doctor denied even being in town when his cousin disappeared, but Ransom couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

  Ransom returned the phone to his pocket and started the car.

  He couldn’t get anywhere in the investigation on gut feelings, especially when they were about the man who’d brought half the town’s inhabitants into the world. Still Ransom couldn’t shake the feeling the doc just might know who ushered his cousin out of the world, as well.

  *

  His son’s phone call, followed by the detective’s visit, left Cassius Haleby on edge. He decided to go home on his lunch break and check on Inez. He had to admit she had been even worse than usual since the funeral.

  As he drove along the winding road leading to his home, he assessed the detective’s unexpected visit. Cassius had supposed the police would simply go through the motions on such an old case, but Ransom seemed determined to learn exactly what happened to Victoria all those years ago. Some of his questions had seemed rather aggressive, almost hostile. He’d come dangerously close to treating Cassius like a suspect and the doctor didn’t enjoy the feeling one bit.

  He pulled up in front of his house and took a moment to savor the pride it always evoked. Inez was certifiable, indeed, if she thought he would ever agree to move from this monument to his success.

  When he entered the house, he was surprised not to find his wife in her usual drinking nest on the living room sofa.

  He wandered through the downstairs rooms calling her name. When she didn’t answer he climbed the stairs to check her bedroom.

  The couple hadn’t shared a bed in many years and Cassius had long ago moved to the downstairs guest room to spare his arthritic knees. Being forced to make the climb in search of his wife increased his annoyance with each step.

  “Inez!” he shouted, getting no response. “Blast you, Inez. Where are you?”

  He opened the door to his wife’s room and recoiled at the sour smell emanating from piles of soiled clothes, dirty dishes and empty bottles.

  “Inez! Are you here?” he called and strode across to her bathroom.

  This luxuriously appointed room was equally untidy, and equally unoccupied. Cassius turned his attention to the attached balcony, opening the drapes covering the French doors.

  “Let’s have some fresh air in here.”

  He pulled the door open and saw his wife lying on the balcony.

  “Inez!” he said.

  She was slumped in front o
f the door, passed out. Vomit congealed on the front of her nightgown.

  “Get up, woman! At least come inside, so I can clean you up,” Cassius said, while tugging at her arm. “We don’t need to put your filthy habits on display for the whole world to see.”

  When he tried to rouse his wife, Dr. Haleby realized she was not simply sleeping off her inebriation. She was completely unresponsive, scarcely alive.

  “So, you finally drank more than even you could handle, eh?” he said. “Another sip or two and you might have solved our little family problem.”

  Leaving his unconscious wife sprawled on the balcony, Haleby stepped into the room and picked up the phone from the bedside table.

  “Yes, this is Doctor Haleby. Send an ambulance, please. My wife’s had an accident,” he reported, giving his address.

  Looking at the squalor surrounding him, he started to tidy the room. With an angry shake of his head, he tossed an empty bottle into the waste basket and went slowly down the stairs to await the rescue squad.

  While he waited, he called his office to let Gwennie know he would be late returning, then he made himself a ham sandwich and ate his lunch.

  Chapter 22

  Dr. Haleby followed the ambulance to the local hospital.

  The ER doctor on duty diagnosed a possible overdose of alcohol combined with Mrs. Haleby’s anti-depression pills. He began treating her with IV fluids while awaiting the lab results.

  “Your wife’s vitals are beginning to improve a bit, Cassius,” he reported as he stepped out of the cubicle where Inez lay hooked to an array of tubes and beeping monitors.

  “If you hadn’t gone home for lunch today, she might not have made it this far,” he added.

  “Yes, that was lucky. I could tell it was a near thing,” Haleby replied. “Is she showing any signs of waking up?”

  “Not so far, but you know how unpredictable these things can be.”

  “Of course,” Haleby agreed. “I’m afraid I need to get back to the office and take care of my patients. I can’t do any good here. You’ll let me know right away if there’s any change.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Haleby walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, his cane tapping sharply on the polished marble tiles.

  Inez’s doctor turned to the charge nurse and murmured, “He’s a cold one, isn’t he?”

  *

  On the drive to his office, Cassius showed none of his icy calm as a myriad of emotional memories from his years of marriage insinuated themselves into his consciousness. He had loved Inez deeply, once. Before her drinking escalated, they’d had years of contentment. He’d been proud to squire her to rounds of fund-raising galas and community events. Sadly, she’d ruined all that.

  Thinking of his wife’s constant complaints and persistent depression forced Cassius to consider that today’s overdose could have been a suicide attempt, rather than a drunken accident. He’d never given Inez credit for the depth of despair necessary for such an act. A pang of guilt pierced the armor of rationalizations and justifications he’d built up over the years.

  At the office, he greeted Gwennie and Bitsy with a nod and went into his inner office.

  “Doctor’s looking glum,” Bitsy said. “Maybe he had another fight with his drunken wife.”

  “You shouldn’t say things like that!” Gwennie said. “Anyway, it’s none of our business.”

  She noticed the signal light on her console blinking and added, “The doctor’s ready for you to call in the next patient, so stop gossiping and get to work.”

  *

  In the cold, concrete room, Ransom thanked the prison escort and took a seat at the interview table.

  Arthur Dench shuffled into the room in shackles and squeezed his bulk between the securely anchored metal chair and table across from Ransom. Greasy gray hair twisted onto the top of his head made the prisoner look like a nightmarish elderly Kewpie doll.

  “Who’re you?” he asked, his eyes glittering with curiosity.

  “Mr. Dench, I’m John Ransom, a detective with the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Why are you here at Pelican Bay? It’s pretty far out of your bailiwick, isn’t it?” Dench asked.

  “I’m investigating a cold case; a murder from forty years ago,” Ransom began.

  “Good luck with that!” Dench interrupted. “You aren’t going to clear up all your old cases by pinning ‘em on me!” he said, crossing his arms over his massive belly and staring at the detective pugnaciously.

  “That’s not why I’m here, I’m not interested in your old crimes or in accusing you of anything.”

  “Then what do you want with me?”

  “A few years ago, you shared a cell with another prisoner by the name of Robert Hewitt. Do you remember him?”

  “Could be,” he replied with a speculative gleam in his eye. “What about him?”

  “What can you tell me about him? Did he ever talk about any of his crimes, or tell you who he ran around with on the outside?”

  “Nah. If he did, I wouldn’t remember it. I remember him, though. A real nasty character. Solitary was better than rooming with him, believe me,” Dench said. “Tell me what you want me to say and I’ll help you pin your murder on him, only you got to promise he won’t get penned up here.”

  “Thanks for the offer to perjure yourself, Dench, but that’s not the way we do things,” Ransom said. “If you don’t have any authentic information for me, guess I’ll be going.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Dench said, obviously enjoying this break from his usual prison routine. “Maybe he did tell me some stuff. If you ask me questions, I might remember.”

  Ransom sat back down and tried to think of a way to prime the old man’s memory without feeding him information which could help him make up fairy tales.

  “Okay, did Hewitt ever talk about the old days, back in the sixties or seventies?”

  “Sure. What else we got to talk about in here, except the good ol’ days?” Dench said. “Now, let me see if I can remember any of his stories.”

  Dench rubbed his chin as though trying to think, then leaned forward as far as the chains allowed.

  “The man was a terrible liar, you know, so I can’t promise what he told me was exactly true,” he said.

  “If you’re stalling, just so you can make up a load of bull, forget it,” Ransom warned.

  “Hold your pants on, Johnny boy,” Dench said. “I remember Bob Hewitt used to brag about all the young, uh, young ladies he’d had. He liked to get ‘em before they’d been used, if you get my drift. He said he liked to be their first and last. He laughed about spoiling ‘em for any other man. Is that the sort of thing you wanted to know?”

  “I don’t need to hear salacious details about the crimes he was convicted on. I’d like to know if he ever talked about the ones he got away with.”

  “To hear him tell it, there were dozens, but he never shared names or that, just what he did to ‘em and how much they liked it. If you want to hear about that, I’ve got plenty of free time,” he leered.

  “Thanks, anyway, but you obviously don’t have any information we can use,” Ransom said, gesturing to the guard and standing up.

  “Aw, heck, I was just gettin’ warmed up to the subject. Come on!” Dench protested as Ransom left the room feeling in need of a good, hot shower.

  *

  Cassius Haleby stopped at the hospital after work and found Inez still unconscious. Her chart showed she was still in critical condition. He was surprised to feel a sense of loss when contemplating life without his disappointing wife. However, there was no reason for him to haunt her hospital room, so he didn’t stay.

  On the drive home he grew angry with Inez. Her weakness had ruined their marriage and killed his affection for her. He felt betrayed by life and cheated of the happiness he deserved.

  With a sinking heart, he walked into the home he was so proud of. His footsteps echoed on the tiles of the foyer, as though this magni
ficent house were a hollow cavern.

  Too full of self-pity to have an appetite, he ate only a handful of grapes and a slice of cheese, then poured a whiskey and prepared for bed.

  Propped on pillows, he watched the sky darken from lavender to deep purple behind the silhouetted treetops outside his bedroom window, sipped his drink, and tried to imagine his life if Inez should fail to wake up.

  “If she was going to do something like this, it should have been years ago, when I was still young enough to remarry,” he complained to the first winking stars before tossing back the last of his drink and sliding down to try to sleep.

  *

  In town, Ken and Judy were also in bed. Leaning against their headboard with Ken’s laptop computer balanced on his knees, they were looking at listings of homes for rent.

  “We were so careful to establish college funds for the girls. How is it we failed to set up a fund to buy a home?” Ken grumbled. “These rental properties are so cramped and yet so expensive.”

  “We just never thought about how retirement would leave us homeless, I guess,” Judy said. “We’ve been lucky to stay here as long as we have.”

  “But that’s going to make moving out all the harder. What are we going to do with all our furniture and everything? It will never fit in one of these cracker box rentals. I feel like I’ve failed. Maybe I should rescind my retirement until we can set aside a down payment, or at least until after the babies are born.”

  “Don’t worry. We will find a nice place to live and get all settled in before I go into labor. You’ll see, everything will be fine,” Judy said.

  Astilbe saw the light under her parents’ bedroom door and tapped lightly.

  “Come in,” Judy called.

  “Hey, I’ve been thinking, and I just wanted to tell you guys I have definitely decided to do my first two years of college in Tillamook,” Astilbe said. “I’ll stay at home and commute, so I can help with the babies.”