“She had a couple of minor strokes over the past year and evidently they weakened her heart.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Laura’s lower lip quivered and Ginny stepped forward and put her arms around her. “Now don’t you go taking all that guilt. You had a life of your own to lead and she knew that.”
“I…I miss her so much.”
Ginny patted her on the shoulder.
Laura stepped back and grabbed a tissue from the box on the stone coffee table. Then, remembering her manners, she turned back to Ginny.
“Won’t you sit down?”
“Thanks honey, but I have to be getting back home. I just came over to invite you to supper with us tonight.” She reached over and patted Laura’s arm. “George and I thought you might not feel like eating alone. We’d love to have you. I’m making some fried chicken.” She eyed Laura expectantly.
Laura remembered Ginny’s fried chicken. “I’d love to join you. Are you sure I won’t be any trouble?”
“Nonsense, child, we’ll be glad for the company. George may even try to talk you into a cribbage game.”
She didn’t feel much like playing any games tonight, but she wouldn’t hurt the Morgan’s feelings for anything after all they’d done for her aunt.
“Aunt Estelle taught me to play that.” A young girl and an old woman laughing in front of the fire, playing cribbage on the coffee table. “Sometimes I thought Aunt Estelle put her best cards in the “crib” on purpose for me.”
Ginny grinned outrageously. “George gave you the benefit of the doubt too until you started beating the pants off him. I know he’ll enjoy a game or two. We’ll see you about 5:30. Is that time all right?”
“That’ll be fine, thank you.”
Ginny waved a hand as she hurried towards the front door and picked up her umbrella.
The mention of food made Laura realize she was hungry. She heated some water for tea to have with the sandwich she’d bought on the way. As she unwrapped the egg salad sandwich she couldn’t help thinking of the man in line ahead of her at the deli.
He’d towered over her. Not in a good mood either. She thought of the girl’s remark “That’s just Sam, he’s had a hard time.” What kind of a hard time? Maybe his girlfriend had broken up with him. She found herself looking down at her ring.
Now, as she waited for the kettle to boil, she glanced up above the stove. The stuffed chickens on the shelf above the stove looked down at her, their bright glass eyes seemed to be watching her with curiosity. She turned and unhooked one of the cupboard doors with framed chicken wire fronts and took out a cup and saucer in the Blue Willow pattern. She’d always liked these dishes.
Maybe I’ll keep those.
She felt more comfortable in the house now. Like her aunt’s arms, the house seemed to wrap itself around her.
After fumbling with the matches and tinder, she built a small fire in the fireplace and settled on the couch with the tray. The rain, rejuvenated after its short reprieve, pelted the window with persistency. Here, alone, she was going to have a lot of time to think and examine her feelings, yet she was not sure she was ready to do that.
Her cell phone rang, but when she flipped the lid there was just static and she noted the number that had called. It was Alan. The mountains probably interfered with reception. She debated calling him back on the house phone but decided she wasn’t ready to do that yet either. Alan McKay could just wait.
After her lunch she wandered through the house, opening cupboards, drawers and closets, peering at the contents. Finally, she went back into her aunt’s room and stood looking at her aunt’s pink bathrobe. She slipped it from the hanger and all at once felt like the young girl who had come here so long ago. She wrapped the robe around her shoulders. The lump returned to her throat and the hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Oh Aunt Estelle, I miss you. You’d understand about Alan. You’d know what to do. I need to talk to someone. I’m so confused right now.” She twisted the ring on her left hand and the solitaire diamond sparkled in the glow of the bedside lamp.
Giving way to her tears and the pain in her heart, Laura curled up on her aunt’s bed and pulled the robe around her. With the steady hypnotizing beat of the rain on the roof, she buried her face in her aunt’s pillow.
Chapter Four
Deke looked up through his goggles and saw the foreman heading towards him. He shut off the torch and waited.
“The boss wants to see you, Brucker, pronto.”
Walking towards the office, Deke was uneasy. There were rumors of layoffs. Was he being fired? He clenched his jaw. So what was new?
When he reached the office, he saw a couple of men talking to his boss. Suits. He knew their type. Cops. Feds. They all had the look. He could spot one a mile away.
Deke knocked on the window and Joe Peavy heaved himself up out of his swivel chair and opened the door.
“These guys want to talk to you. Any trouble I should know about, Brucker?”
One of the suits spoke up. “He’s clean. We just need to ask him some questions about his father. Anywhere we can talk alone?”
Peavy chewed on his cigar, looking from one to the other. “You can use my office, but make it snappy, I’ve got work to do.” He went out closing the door hard behind him.
Deke stood quietly, wary. “Yeah?”
“I’m Detective Billows and this is Detective Norman.” They flashed a couple of badges but Deke ignored them.
Billows studied Deke a moment. “Your father, Ray Dupont, died shortly after he got out of prison. Were you able to talk to him before he died?”
“He’s dead?” Deke shook off the strange emotions that heaved his insides. Dead. He lifted his chin. Nobody was going to see how they got to him. “Look, my old man left when I was about three and I haven’t seen him since. He didn’t bother to get in touch with me.”
The police detective’s face remained bland. “He didn’t write to you?”
Deke glared at him, barely able to hold his anger in check. “Oh yeah, every week, we were just regular pen pals.”
Norman moved forward menacingly. “Just answer the questions, Brucker, we don’t need any smart mouth from you.”
Deke glared at him “I didn’t even know where he was.”
“He was in prison for robbery and attempted murder.”
Deke’s eyes widened. “Attempted murder?”
“His partner shot a bank guard. Fortunately for your father, the guy lived. Your father’s partner died in a shootout. ”
A scene flashed in Deke’s mind, his mother grabbing him and running. Men bursting in the bedroom and pulling them from the room. He pushed the scene away.
“And you’re going somewhere with this?”
Detective Norman broke in. “Your old man stole almost a million dollars.”
A Million? Now he got it. “And you’re looking for the money? The LAPD sends you guys out twenty years later to look for the money?”
“We work for the, ah, insurance company. They’re looking for the money.”
Deke sneered. “Look, if I had close to a million grand, would I be working in this place? You guys are nuts if you think I know where it is.”
Billows took another tack. “Did your mother ever talk to you about your father?”
Deke jammed the anger down. After all these years it was still a pain in his gut.
“She died shortly after they took my old man away. I got dumped into the system”. He swore. “I was a kid. Nobody talked to me about anything.”
Billows narrowed his eyes, studying Deke for a moment. Finally, he sighed. “Okay, Brucker, it appears you’re telling the truth. We just needed to check out all the angles. You can go back to work.”
He was giving himself away but he had to know. “You say my old man’s dead. How did he die, heart attack?”
Billows hesitated, his smile complacent.
Deke waited, not sure he wanted to hear. He had a feeling it wasn�
�t going to be good.
“Somebody beat him to death.”
Deke turned away from them. Get yourself under control, Dekey boy, don’t let them see they got to you. You didn’t cry through all the years in foster homes when they beat up on you, don’t do it now. He put on the mask again. The bland face he could hide behind, and faced the detectives again.
“They were looking for the money.” It wasn’t a question.
Norman glanced at Billows and back to Deke. “That’s what we think.”
“Where is the body?”
“City morgue. You can claim it with I.D.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Deke saw Peavy standing outside the office, scowling.
The detectives opened the office door and Peavy stalked in. “You guys done?”
Billows gave him a cold glance. “We’re done. Thanks for the use of your ffice.”
Peavy watched them walk away and turned to Deke. “What was that all about? You sure you’re not in trouble? I don’t stand for any of that stuff around here.”
Deke ignored Peavy, looking after the cops. “They just wanted some info on my old man. He’s dead. I didn’t have anything to tell them.”
“Well, get back to work then. Time is money.”
You’ve got a real heart, Peavy. “Yeah, time is money.”
Deke walked slowly back to his workplace. So his old man was beaten to death by someone who knew about the money. He hadn’t even been out of prison very long. Somebody was waiting for him. It was a rotten end for anyone.
What did he remember about his father? Old memories pushed themselves into his conscious mind and he ran his hand over his face, willing them away. He didn’t want to go there now, he couldn’t. Yet something in those thoughts triggered an unfamiliar response. He was tough, he’d had to be, but he wasn’t like Peavy. Deke swore. No, he wasn’t like Peavy. He knew where he had to go and what he had to do.
Chapter Five
He was walking towards her on the beach, smiling and reaching out with his arms, she whirled away, her white wedding dress floating in the breeze. When she turned back he was walking away. Alan! She called his name over and over, but he didn’t turn around and he disappeared into the mist.
The loud ringing of the telephone jarred her thoughts. Laura waited for her answering machine to pick up. It took her a moment to realize it was Aunt Estelle’s house in Big Bear Lake.
“Hello? Oh, Alan. I’m sorry, I guess I fell asleep.”
His tone was reproachful. “You were going to call me when you got to your aunt’s house. I got your aunt’s number from your mother.”
“I’m sorry. So much has been going on. Everyone has been so nice. The neighbors have been watching the house for me. How is your father?” She listened to his lengthy account. She liked his father and was truly sorry about the cancer, yet found herself listening to the well-modulated voice of her fiancé with a strange feeling of detachment.
She forced herself to ask, “Will he make the announcement next Sunday?’
“Yes. It would be good if you were here, Laura. He’ll tell them I’ll be stepping up as Senior Pastor, pending the approval of the Board, but I’ve already been assured there is no problem.”
“Alan, I told you I can’t be home by Sunday. I don’t even know when the memorial service is going to be yet. I have to talk to the attorney, the bank, the funeral home--”
There was a small huff of irritation and his voice took on a petulant tone she hadn’t remembered hearing before.
“Laura, her estate can’t be that much. Can’t the attorney take care of those details? I’m sure you mean well, darling, but is a memorial service necessary?”
She stared at the phone, struggling to keep the edge out of her voice when she responded.
“Alan, it may be a small town, but my aunt had a lot of friends and neighbors who would like to pay their respects. She wanted a service and I’m going to see that she gets one.”
He was immediately conciliatory. “I’m sorry, darling, I was out of line. I meant no disrespect for your aunt. Of course, you do what you need to do. I was just hoping you could be here for the announcement. It’s a big step for me, and I just wanted you by my side, that’s all.”
She relented at the genuine concern in his voice. He was probably distraught with his father’s illness and the prospect of taking over the large church. He couldn’t have meant what he said.
“I’ll do my best, Alan. This is all new to me and I want to make sure everything is done properly.”
“Of course, darling, you do what you need to do.”
“When will the Board vote on your appointment?”
“They meet this Thursday night.”
She frowned as the implications crowded her mind. “So when do you take over? Two months?”
“Actually, right away, it’s pretty cut and dried.”
“That’s wonderful. Alan, I’ll settle the estate as quickly as I can, but I may be gone the full two weeks. Jack told me I could have another week if I needed it.”
“Well get back as soon as possible. You should give Jack your notice when you return. I’m going to need you here. With my new salary, your job won’t be necessary and you’ll have your hands full with the women’s society. You realize you’re missing the missionary conference and the spring tea. Mrs.Eggert will be in a tizzy.”
She heard the slight irritation creep back into his voice. Alan liked plans to go just as he made them.
“I’m sorry Alan,” why did she have to keep saying that? “Mrs.Eggert is president of the women’s society. She’s quite capable of making sure the tea goes well. It can’t be helped. Oh, I told Rose Daley that we will have to re-schedule the shower she was going to give us.”
“I’ll work out what I can. Get me the date as soon as possible.”
“Alan, will you come up for the memorial service?”
“Darling, it’s a three hour drive up there.”
This time she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Yes, I know, I just drove here.”
He murmured something about seeing what he could do, but left it hanging. He thought it probably wasn’t possible. He murmured a few words of regret, then with a brief endearment, begged off for an important meeting. She sat holding the receiver in her hand then slammed it down in the cradle and lay back against the pillows, gazing up through the skylight at a tall pine tree. Her job at the college and Alan seemed so far away. At the present moment, she found she didn’t mind.
She sat up slowly, reached for the box of tissues and blew her nose. Maybe it was just the emotions over her aunt’s death. She studied the ring, thinking of the day Alan presented it to her. They had been dating over a year and she knew he wanted to be married. He would need a wife when he took the helm of his father’s huge church.
For a moment she was tempted to pull off the ring but reason prevailed and she pulled the robe from around her and got up. She had less than half an hour before putting in an appearance at the Morgan’s house for dinner.
Facing the bathroom mirror she stared at the wan face looking back at her. Her eyes, the pupils so green people accused her of wearing contacts, were puffy from the tears. She needed little make-up, being blessed with fair skin and naturally wavy auburn hair. She splashed cold water on her face and put eye drops in her eyes. A dash of powder and lipstick and a quick brushing of her hair made a difference. She pulled on her raincoat as the rain began to come down in torrents. Her pity party was in full swing. Great, I get to arrive at the Morgan’s house looking like a drowned rat.
Her dark moods, like the sudden rainstorms, wore themselves out in short order. She chided herself for her attitude and breathed a prayer of thankfulness for the Morgan’s kindness. She locked the front door, opened her umbrella, and made a dash for the Morgan’s front porch.
A tall man, about six feet four with thinning gray hair and a warm smile, opened the door and literally swept her inside.
�
��Let me take that wet umbrella and coat and hang them up.”
“Thank you. Mr. Morgan.”
“Please, call me George, I haven’t been called Mr. Morgan since I taught high school, makes me feel old.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
She laughed in spite of herself. How comforting to be around the nice people that were part of Aunt Estelle’s life.
He led her into the living room which appeared the same as Laura remembered it years ago. Colorful burgundy, blue and green knitted throws graced the back of the deep green velour sofas, accented by plump burgundy pillows. They still had the antique maple rocking chair she’d curled up in to read while her aunt and Ginny chatted over tea. The white shades on the end table lamps had yellowed to cream over the years. The warm wood of a maple coffee table gleamed in the light, accented with a bowl of white silk magnolias. Listening to the fire snapping and crackling in the fireplace, she felt very much at home.
Ginny hurried out from the kitchen. “Laura dear, let me get you something to sip while you’re waiting.” She set down a tray and mugs. The hot spiced cider smelled wonderful.
George settled in his easy chair. “Now if you have any questions or anything you need help with, just let me know.”
“Well, actually, I was wondering, didn’t Aunt Estelle drive any more?”
Ginny perched on the wide arm of the couch next to Laura and shook her head.
“No, dear, after her last stroke, they wouldn’t renew her driver’s license. She took it well but you know how independent she was. I took her to the store and her doctor’s appointments.”
“You were kind to do that. Is her old Chrysler still in the garage?”
George broke in. “It’s still out there and a beauty too. Original upholstery and paint job, a real classic.”
Laura shook her head in wonder. There were few people she knew, if any, that still had the car they’d bought thirty years before. She turned to Ginny, “You and Aunt Estelle have lived next to each other a long time, haven’t you?”
Ginny considered the ceiling for a moment. “I’d say around thirty years. We both moved up here when our children were young. Esty’s boy was around five and my two boys were six and eight. They were the Three Musketeers, did everything together.”
House of the Forest Page 2