Into the Sweet Hereafter

by Kaye George

  “I can’t do anything today, but I can check him out later for you if you’d like. Remind me of his name again.”

  “Walter Wright. I think he’s lived in Fredericksburg for a little while—I mean, he must have, being on the crime watch and all, but I’ve never seen him before.” The town population was less than 12,000, but Tally hadn’t been living there long enough to get to know everyone. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, I remember. The Crime Fritzer. I know a little about him. He’s a strange dude. Parents are dead, never married, no kids, no relatives that I know of.”

  “Strange how?”

  “Unsettled. He doesn’t get into any real trouble, but I always wonder if that’s just because he hasn’t ever been caught. He doesn’t have any arrest record. He’s always kind of drifted from job to job. For a stretch, he was homeless. He’s done ranch work, restaurant work, even a janitor at the old folks’ home. I don’t know what he’s doing now. He might still be there.”

  “I don’t think he’s working at the home. I haven’t seen him since I started volunteering there.”

  After she hung up she felt a tiny bit better about Mrs. Gerg. At least Jackson knew something about Walter Wright. If he’d been bad news, had been in trouble with the law, he would have mentioned that.

  7

  Yolanda got a call from her sister, Violetta, as she was leaving for the day, but waited until she got home to her quaint Sunday House to return it.

  “Vi? How is everything?” They hadn’t spoken in over a week. Yolanda felt she had to keep in better contact with Violetta now since their parents had, in general, cut off communication with their younger daughter recently.

  “We’re doing great.” She sounded happy. “Eden and I are going to the newest restaurant in Dallas tonight.”

  “What kind of food?” Being part Italian, the whole Bella family was interested in food.

  “Afghan. I have no idea what the food is like, but the reviews are terrific and a couple people from the office have gone and loved it.”

  “I’m jealous,” Yolanda said, kicking off her shoes and curling up on her brocade couch. It was an unlikely spot for her to be comfortable, since it was rather stiff and hard, but Yolanda managed it. “Tell me about it later, okay?”

  “Maybe I’ll take you there if you ever come and see us.”

  It had been too long since Yolanda had gone to Dallas and her sister rarely came to Fredericksburg any more, since she wasn’t welcome at their parents’ house after she had come out of the closet and introduced them to her girlfriend, Eden.

  “I promise I’ll come see y’all,” Yolanda said. “Soon.”

  They said their goodbyes and hung up, but Yolanda wondered how she was going to manage a trip to Dallas. Vi got weekends off and she took off Mondays. Someday soon she would have to close up for a couple of days and just do it. Her sister should have at least some family support, and Yolanda dearly loved her.

  Tonight, though, she was also going out to dinner. With Kevin. She set a timer for a ten-minute nap. After she roused from that, refreshed, she changed her clothes, donning a blue-and-aqua caftan and a necklace of large pink stones. Her hands were not quite steady, thinking about their upcoming meeting. Kevin had said he had some big news and she was a bit nervous about that. She hadn’t been able to tell, over the cell phone, whether this was going to be good news or bad news.

  They met at the Auslander. Yolanda found a lucky parking place by the front door and entered the Bavarian restaurant, greeted by a loud band echoing off the hard tile floor. The band that was playing, Stomping Grapes, was one of her favorite local bands, but tonight she wanted to be able to converse with Kevin in peace.

  The place was packed and she wondered if they’d even be able to get a table. To her relief, she scanned the place for only a few seconds before spotting Kevin on a stool at the bar. The smile he greeted her with relaxed her somewhat. Maybe his news was the good variety.

  Then something else occurred to her. What would constitute good news? Was he going to propose? He wasn’t especially dressed up, clad entirely in black, as usual—black jeans, shirt, boots—to match his black perennially-three-day-old beard. She loved his look, the opposite of her flamboyant taste in fashion. They were foils for each other. She’d never seen him dressed any other way, except when he was toiling in his vineyard in shorts and an undershirt. That wasn’t a bad look for him, either.

  He hopped off the stool, carrying his beer. Putting his mouth close to her ear so he didn’t have to shout, he asked, “Do you want to sit outside? It’s quieter.”

  She nodded and Kevin gave a signal to the hostess, who led the way to an empty table for two under the open latticework covering. Yolanda gratefully took a seat, glad that they’d be able to talk here. The band music was fainter, but still sounded good from their table.

  She ordered a glass of white wine. Kevin liked to take a break from wine sometimes and tonight was one of them. The waiter brought him a new stein when he delivered her stemmed glass of Chardonnay. After they ordered their dinners, Yolanda waited, expectantly, for the news.

  “Anything new going on with you?” he asked.

  Okay, he was going to delay. “Not much, just still dealing with the aftermath of what Tally calls the Broken Window Incident. Did y’all hear about the wreck outside town? I drove out to where the accident happened.”

  “I did. It’s on the way to my fields, I think. But how did you know where it was?”

  “I could tell. The ground is plowed up. That new warehouse isn’t very far from there.”

  “Warehouse?”

  “The one our plastic was shipped from. The stuff that got stolen from my window display.”

  Kevin sipped his beer. “I’ve seen the building, too. Gordon Warehouses. It just popped up there not too long ago. I wondered what they did. There’s a sign that says Planet Earth, too, right?”

  She couldn’t wait any longer. “Okay, what is it you have to tell me? You said you had news.”

  He grinned. “I do. Good news. Rachel agreed to everything.”

  Rachel?

  “You don’t know who Rachel is, do you? She’s my wife. My ex-wife. It’s all done.”

  Yolanda realized she had never heard the woman’s name. Kevin always referred to her as “my wife.”

  “The divorce went through?” Yolanda gaped. She sometimes thought it would never happen. It had been years in the making. “You’re free?”

  “Yes. Finally. She met someone in Amarillo and decided to stop torturing me. I’m a free man.”

  He raised his stein and Yolanda clinked her wineglass against it. “Congratulations! That is good news.”

  “I really think we’re both happy about it.”

  “You worked long and hard for this. Are we celebrating tonight?”

  “Sure. Let’s get something wonderful for dessert.”

  They both hurried through their meals and dug into a huge serving of apple strudel, complete with sugared dates and toasted pecans and topped with whipped cream and caramel.

  Kevin walked her out, both of them talking about how they were about to burst. Yolanda was also elated about Kevin’s long, contentious battle finally being over. She knew it had preyed on his mind for a long time.

  Yolanda unlocked her car and opened the door. Kevin took hold of the door. She expected him to lean over and kiss her, but his face got a clouded look.

  “There’s just one person unhappy about our split,” he said.

  Yolanda waited, holding her breath. Bad news on top of the good news?

  “Kaycee.”

  Another woman whose name she had never heard. She raised her eyebrows.

  He looked at the ground. “Our daughter. She’s upset about it. I don’t know why. She always knew it would happen.” Then he leaned in and kissed her. “Anyway, good night. See you
tomorrow.”

  “Most likely,” she said, getting into the car. As she drove away she thought: Rachel? Kaycee? She had never heard their names before. She had never even pictured him as a father. What kind of a father was Kevin, she wondered? Did he treat his daughter as her own father treated her? Or maybe nicer, as her father used to treat Violetta? She wondered how old Kaycee was and hoped she was younger than herself. There was a significant age difference between her and Kevin, after all.

  * * * *

  Thet drove to the tiny county airport to pick up his uncle. He knew the man would not be in a good mood. The flight from Katmandu was very long and tiring. Thet made it often and it wrung him out every time. His uncle was older, so he should be even more affected.

  U Win waited until they were in Thet’s car before starting to berate him. Thet was glad Arlen wasn’t there to witness his scolding. Arlen had said he had some Snead relatives he wanted to call on as long as he was in the area.

  “Are there any mistakes you have not made?” Once he started speaking, the older man didn’t seem worn out from the trip. He was fresh and full of energy.

  “I am so sorry, Uncle. I had a plan, but—”

  “You did not have a good plan. If you had a good plan, you would have retrieved our stones.”

  “Yes, Uncle. That is true.” His uncle did not look at him, but kept his eyes straight ahead on the dark road. “I have found them now.”

  “Let me see them.”

  “I will. They are not with me.”

  “Where are they? When can I see them?”

  Thet relaxed a notch. His uncle had not struck him. “They are in a safe place. I will take you to the motel now.”

  “And that is where they are? In a motel? Is that wise? We can take them to Dallas now?”

  “No, they are someplace else.” Thet’s hands started to sweat on the steering wheel. Maybe leaving them at the old woman’s house had not been a good plan. “I was afraid my room at the motel might be searched.” He didn’t want to mention the death at the motel. His uncle would certainly blame him for that immediately.

  Now Win turned in his seat and faced Thet with cold, hard eyes. “Why would your room be searched? What else have you done?”

  * * * *

  Tally had decided she needed to attend a crime watch meeting, for the sake of Mrs. Gerg. Maybe she could settle in her mind whether they were a bunch of people trying to protect everyone’s property, or whether they were a front for housebreaking and stealing.

  They had a website, very plain, but easy to find since there wasn’t anything else named Crime Fritzers. They met at the home of a woman named Olive Baum. The address was residential, so Tally figured they must be meeting in the homes of the members. It wasn’t far, and the evening was lovely, so she walked, timing her arrival for a few minutes before the meeting started at eight o’clock.

  A hand-lettered sign in the front yard proclaimed, Meeting here, 8 PM. Tally wondered if they rotated the locations. The house was a small ranch, similar to her own, with a front porch extending halfway across the front. Sturdy posts held up the porch roof, brick on the bottom half, white-painted wood on the top of the columns. The front yard had a bit of grass as well as some bare dirt. A beautiful yard was not the focus of Olive Baum.

  Tally stepped up onto the porch. The view through the screen door showed that the inside door stood open. She guessed they weren’t too worried about security since all the patrol teams would be here.

  Tally found herself in a crowded living room, not with people, but with furniture. Two full-sized couches took up half the room, and several other upholstered chairs were crammed into the spaces beside them. Folding chairs took up a lot of the remaining floor space.

  A short, thin, dark-haired woman holding a clipboard jerked her head up when Tally entered.

  “Who are you?” She sounded rude, but maybe she was taken aback by a stranger, Tally thought.

  “Hi. My name is Tally Holt.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “Well, in Fredericksburg, yes. A few streets over. I wanted to come and check out the group and see—”

  “Check us out for what?” Her abrupt, clipped tone continued, not softening one little bit.

  Tally was tempted to say, “For lice.” But she smiled, a futile attempt. The woman frowned in return. “I’m interested in the group.” She didn’t want to lie and say she wanted to join, but she wanted the woman to assume that.

  “We don’t need any more members.” The woman turned her back on Tally.

  Two other people were in the room, both middle-aged men. They were following the exchange, swiveling their heads like they were watching a tennis match.

  “Are you sure?” Tally said. “I know you have two who are not participating right now. Candace Gerg and Walter Wright.”

  The woman whipped around and faced Tally. “They’ll be back.”

  Tally was growing angry at the rude woman and decided to call her bluff. “I’ll just stay for the meeting, in case.” She plopped down into one of the large stuffed chairs, figuring she would be hard to dislodge from there.

  One of the men smiled, amused at the whole thing, she thought. He approached her and stuck his hand out. “Hi, I’m Kyle Meyer.”

  Tally shook his hand, recognizing that smoker’s rasp in his voice. She remembered the balding, beer-bellied man. He had been with Ira Mann when she met him in front of Yolanda’s shop right after her window got fixed. They had said they were on patrol, but their car hadn’t been marked with a magnetic sign like the others that she saw.

  “Hi,” she said. “You’re Ira’s partner, right?”

  The smile left his face for a fleeing moment. “Well, sort of. I’m officially partnered with Ray, here.” He gestured to the other man in the room, a middle-ager of similar build and age. Ray threw her a smile and a salute.

  The room eventually filled up with crime watchers and every seat was taken. The temperature grew uncomfortable with all the bodies jammed into the small space. It was loud, too, with some people conversing across the room, others to the people next to them.

  “Okay, the meeting shall come to order,” Olive announced, a surprisingly large voice coming from her small frame. The room grew quiet, but was still very hot.

  “Report from Team One,” Olive yelled.

  Her request was met with silence. “Team One,” she said, louder.

  A nice-looking gray-haired woman answered. “We don’t have any report.”

  “You have to report something,” insisted Olive.

  “Well, we drove our patrol. Nothing happened.”

  Olive frowned at the poor woman, but wrote something down on her clipboard.

  “Team Two. Report in.”

  “All quiet on our shift,” Kyle said. Ray, sitting next to him, nodded.

  This went on until, apparently, all the teams had reported in. No one had anything to report. Tally thought it might have been more efficient if she had asked if anyone actually had a report.

  “People,” Olive shouted. “We have to be more vigilant. Crimes are being committed and we’re missing them.”

  A young woman sitting across from Tally dared to answer her. “We can’t be on patrol all the time, Olive. It’s a matter of chance, catching anyone doing a crime. Besides, they can see us coming.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be a deterrent?” Ray, Kyle’s partner, asked. “The police don’t really want us apprehending criminals. Just being there to let them know…well…that we’re there.”

  Olive shot out an impatient breath. “That’s not good enough. We can catch them. We must try harder.”

  Tally saw, from the blank faces in the room, that they had no idea how to go about trying harder. They drove their patrol routes, she thought. What else could they do? She knew the police didn’t want them catching criminals,
as Olive had suggested.

  “What are you saying?” asked the woman across from Tally. “Do more patrols? Recruit more members?”

  Olive glanced at Tally before she answered. Tally smiled at her, just to disconcert the woman. She had told Tally they didn’t need more members, but her words were implying that they did.

  “Just be more vigilant! Do your jobs! Meeting adjourned.” Olive whacked her pen on her clipboard. Tally wondered if she really wanted a gavel.

  “Where is the next meeting?” Tally asked.

  “We meet here,” Olive snapped, and left the room, leaving everyone to make their way out.

  Tally overheard one man muttering to another one, “I told you not to make her president. Remember? I told you.”

  The other man shook his head. “Yes, you did.”

  Tally left, thinking that the Crime Fritzers probably didn’t have much of a future with that unpopular, prickly woman running it. Halfway back to her house, Tally realized that Ira Mann hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been called on for a report, either. Kyle had been evasive about being his partner. Was Ira a real Crime Fritzer? It didn’t seem like he was, not officially, as Ray put it.

  * * * *

  On Wednesday morning, another fine sunshiny day, Tally got up early enough to have a leisurely breakfast, and even cooked herself some eggs. Nigel liked a few little bits of egg mixed with bacon, so she would sometimes put them into his bowl, but he never considered the portion adequate. She gave him just a tad more, then lectured him about his weight, which he didn’t appreciate. He stalked off into the living room mid-lecture after he had finished off the paltry meal.

  “Okay, be that way. Bye now. I have to go to work.”

  Nigel did not relent or forgive her before she gave a shrug and went out the door.

  She took her time walking to work, enjoying the colorful spring bulbs in her neighbors’ yards, daffodils, narcissus, and some tulips just starting to open. One neighbor had a densely planted flower bed of annuals next to the sidewalk. It rioted with colors: yellow and blue with splashes of red and pink.