Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 02 - Dead Ringer

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  “Richard!” I yelled. “Are you in there?”

  There was no answer.

  “Come on,” I said, lighting the way with the flashlight.

  “Which way?”

  “Over by the Marstons’s plot,” I answered. She looked at me funny, but she didn’t ask any questions. As we trudged through the graveyard, I was grateful for all the time people spent tending to the graves. Aunt Maggie’s flashlight wasn’t much of a help, and the place would have been impassable if it had been grown–over. We finally found Uncle John Ward’s grave.

  Aunt Daphine’s flowers were there, and I lifted the pot to look for the envelope of money. It wasn’t there. So where was Richard? “Richard!” I yelled, and Aunt Maggie joined in.

  “Are you sure that this is the right place?” she asked.

  “I’m sure. He’s got to be around here somewhere. Richard!”

  “Well, he’s not answering, so we better start looking. Come on.” Aunt Maggie took the flashlight from me and led the way. Using Uncle John Ward’s grave as the center, she started us in a slowly expanding circle. We had been looking for about fifteen endless minutes when we found him, curled up in a ball next to a tombstone.

  “Richard!” I said, and reached for him.

  Aunt Maggie held me back. “Careful, now. He’s hurt.”

  That’s when I saw the blood crusted on his shoulder. We knelt on either side of him, and Aunt Maggie trained the flashlight on him. I touched his arm, afraid that it would be cold, but he stirred a tiny bit and mumbled something.

  Aunt Maggie knelt and aimed the flashlight so she could get a better look. “Laurie Anne, he’s been shot.”

  Did I answer her or did I just stare? I’m not really sure. I was halfway convinced that I had to be dreaming, because this couldn’t possibly be real. Aunt Maggie, thank goodness, didn’t waste time on such thoughts.

  She said, “I don’t think we should move him, not knowing how bad off he is. I’m going to have to go find a phone and call for help.” She pulled off her sweater. “Put this around him, and you lie down next to him to keep him warm as you can. He might be in shock.” She started to hand me the flashlight.

  “You take it,” I said. “You’ll go faster that way.”

  She didn’t argue. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.” She was out of my sight in seconds.

  I never did figure out how long I was there waiting in the dark. As soon as Aunt Maggie was gone, I lay down next to Richard as gently as I could, and pushed myself close to him. I whispered to him at first, telling him that it was going to be all right and that I loved him, knowing that the words were as much for me as they were for him.

  My eyes quickly adjusted to the light, but there wasn’t much to see. Not much to hear, either, though I jerked at every cracking branch. There was plenty for me to think about, once I made myself stop crying and decided that being sorry wasn’t what was needed. That’s when I got mad, and I think best when I’m mad.

  I started out remembering the way Small Bill had stayed with Uncle John Ward when he died. The circumstances were all too much alike.

  Of course Richard wasn’t going to die, I told myself over and over again, so I wasn’t going to have to carry out any last wishes. But if he had asked me to do something, I would have done it no matter what. Of course, Richard was my husband, but Small Bill and Uncle John Ward had been best friends for a long time.

  Small Bill made a promise to Uncle John Ward that night in Vietnam, and from everything I had learned about that man, I no longer believed that he would have rested unless he thought that his promise had been kept. That meant that he thought that Uncle John Ward’s last wish had been carried out.

  But it hadn’t been carried out. Was that why Small Bill had come back to Byerly? Had he finally found out that Uncle John Ward’s gift was never delivered? What gift could have been so important that Small Bill would risk his own secret? There was only one thing I could think of that could possibly be worth everything that had happened.

  By the time Junior Norton and Aunt Maggie got there with the ambulance, I had it all figured out. I knew who had been blackmailing Aunt Daphine, and who had killed Small Bill and Dorinda, and who had tried to kill Richard.

  Chapter 38

  Of course I put all of that out of my mind while we got Richard safely out of the graveyard. A doctor was waiting for us at the hospital emergency room in Hickory, and she quickly examined Richard while I stood by. After what seemed like an eternity, she turned to me and said, “Your husband is one lucky fellow. The bullet missed everything important. He’s lost some blood and we have to get that bullet out, but he’s going to come out of this with nothing more than a scar.”

  I must have looked like I was going to pass out about then, because suddenly Aunt Maggie had one elbow and Junior had the other. “Let’s us get out of the way so they can get to work,” Aunt Maggie said, and they led me to a chair somewhere.

  Though I didn’t think about it at the time, I realized later what an effort of will it must have taken for Junior to keep herself from asking me any questions. All she did while we were waiting was to get me a Coke and a package of crackers and make sure I ate them. Finally the doctor finished with Richard, and we followed along as they wheeled him to a room.

  He was still unconscious, but I kissed him and held his hand. The doctor again assured me that he was going to be all right, and after she left, I guess Junior decided that I was finally fair game.

  “Well, Laurie Anne,” she said, “are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

  Aunt Maggie said, “I think you better, Laurie Anne.”

  I nodded. It was time to tell the story, or at least most of it. I wouldn’t tell either of them what hold the blackmailer had on Aunt Daphine, and they finally resigned themselves to that. Of course I knew that they, and everybody else in Byerly, would find out once the blackmailer was arrested, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I was going to keep my promise to Aunt Daphine just as long as I could.

  I also managed to avoid telling them that Leonard Cooper was Small Bill Walters, because I didn’t want to break my promise to Burt Walters either. I was pretty sure that Junior knew it already, since she had seen Michael Cooper, but that didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t official.

  I finished up with the conclusions I had come to while waiting with Richard in the graveyard and asked, “Is it too late for Vivian to check it out on her computer?”

  “Laurie Anne, it’s only eight o’clock,” Junior said.

  I didn’t believe her at first. Surely it had to be after midnight. But when I looked at my watch, I saw that she was right.

  Junior made the call, and fortunately caught Vivian at the V.F.W. I was starting to think that the woman lived there. Vivian checked it out while we waited, and confirmed the first part of my suspicion.

  “Well, it’s possible,” Junior said when she got off of the phone.

  I asked, “Do you think we can get a search warrant by tomorrow morning so we can make sure?”

  “Search warrant my tail end,” Aunt Maggie said. “I’ll find it if I have to tear the place apart with my bare hands.”

  “No need for that,” Junior said. “We can get a warrant. I have a hunch that Laurie Anne has planned out exactly what she wants to do with what we find.”

  I nodded, and started to explain. We were ironing out the details when Richard said in a weak voice, “How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!” I kissed him on the forehead, whispered that I loved him, and he drifted back to sleep.

  “What did he say?” Junior said.

  “That was from Macbeth,” I said. “If I’m not mistaken, Richard just compared us to the three witches.”

  Junior thought it was funny and Aunt Maggie was a little bit put out, but I couldn’t have been happier. Richard was going to be all right.

  Chapter 39

  Aunt Maggie and I stayed at the hospital all night, and tried to get a little sleep whil
e Junior chased after the paperwork we needed. She was at the judge’s house at eight in the morning, and after getting his signature, picked up the two of us so we could use the search warrant. Then we went to La Dauphin. As we had arranged, Junior stayed outside while Aunt Maggie and I went in. Junior didn’t like it, but I had convinced her that the murderer wouldn’t say anything if she was there.

  We got there at about nine–thirty. They didn’t open until ten, but we knew Aunt Daphine and most of the other stylists got in early so they could share a cup of coffee and arrange their hair brushes and curling irons for the day.

  Aunt Daphine was at the front desk waiting for us. I had called her the night before to tell her about Richard, and to warn her that we would be there in the morning to finish things. Of course, she had wanted to hear it all right then, but I put her off. I couldn’t have explained it all without Junior and Aunt Maggie hearing, and I was still bound by that promise.

  “How’s Richard?” she asked when we came in.

  “He’s fine,” I said. “Aunt Daphine, I had to tell Aunt Maggie and Junior Norton that you’re being blackmailed, but I didn’t tell them why.”

  “That doesn’t matter now, Laurie Anne, not after what happened to Richard.”

  I nodded. I had thought that she would feel that way, but I had to be sure. “Then you understand why I can’t keep your secret anymore?”

  “Of course I understand,” she said, chin held high. “Don’t you worry about me.”

  I nodded, relieved that that part was over, but dreading the rest. “Are all of the hair stylists here?”

  Aunt Daphine said, “Yes. Why?”

  I didn’t answer her. “Call Gladys out here.”

  I knew she wanted to ask me why, but she obligingly called, “Gladys! Can you help me a minute?”

  Gladys came out, saw me and Aunt Maggie, and said, “Hey Laurie Anne, Miss Burnette.”

  Aunt Daphine was looking back and forth between me and Gladys, but didn’t say anything.

  “Gladys,” I said, “I need for you to get the other women out of the shop. Right now.”

  “Is there a gas leak?” Gladys asked.

  I shook my head. “No, nothing like that, but we need them out of here. I can’t explain right now.”

  Tell them that you’ll treat them to a biscuit,” Aunt Maggie suggested.

  “Is that all right?” Gladys asked Aunt Daphine. For an answer, Aunt Daphine reached into the cash drawer and handed her two twenty–dollar bills.

  Gladys went back into the main room and we heard her say, “Hey everybody! I’ve got good news for you.”

  “What?” somebody wanted to know.

  “I don’t want to tell you here. Let’s go over to Woolworth’s and get us a biscuit so we can celebrate. I’ll treat, and Daphine says it’s okay.”

  There were more questions, but Gladys added, “Come on, or we won’t be able to get back in time to open.”

  It took a few minutes for them to get their coats and pocketbooks from the back, but soon enough they came on through and out the front door. Aunt Maggie and I stayed back by the wall, so I don’t think most of them even saw us.

  “Aren’t you coming, Daphine?” somebody called out, but Aunt Daphine said, “No, I better stay here and keep an eye on things.”

  Clara McDonald was the last one in line, and I whispered, “Keep Clara here,” to Aunt Daphine.

  “Clara, would you mind staying with me,” Aunt Daphine said. “I need your help mixing up some color for my first appointment. Gladys will bring you back a biscuit.”

  “All right,” Clara said, and turned back.

  As soon as the others were gone, Aunt Maggie locked the door and we joined Clara in the main room. I noticed that now her hair was chestnut. She looked uneasy when she saw me and Aunt Maggie, but all she said was, “What color did you want, Daphine?”

  “She doesn’t need any hair color,” I said. “We just wanted to talk to you alone.”

  “What about?” Clara asked.

  Without saying anything, Aunt Maggie walked past her and into the back room. A minute later she came back out and nodded at me.

  I took a deep breath. That nod meant that Clara had left her gun in her purse, but that Aunt Maggie had it now.

  “What’s all this about?” Clara asked, her voice rising. “What do you want?”

  I ignored her questions and pulled a folded piece of paper out of my pocketbook. “We found this in your house, Clara.”

  “What were you doing in my house? That’s illegal!”

  I went on. “It’s a letter from my uncle John Ward Marston to Aunt Daphine.”

  “A letter to me?” Aunt Daphine said. “What on earth was Clara doing with a letter to me?”

  “It’s a long story, and you may as well sit down.” Aunt Daphine and Aunt Maggie did so, but Clara kept standing and so did I.

  “Aunt Daphine, when Uncle John Ward wrote to you, he said that he had bought something for you. Remember?”

  She nodded.

  “Burt Walters showed us a letter that he got from his brother Small Bill during the war, just before his death. Small Bill was there while Uncle John Ward was dying. The last thing Uncle John Ward did was to write you a letter, and to ask Small Bill to deliver it and me gift he had for you.”

  “But I never got them,” Aunt Daphine said. “Small Bill never came back.”

  “I know you didn’t, but the letter and the gift did make it back to Byerly.” I hesitated, because now I was going to have to break my promise to Burt Walters, but he had said to go ahead if it would help catch Small Bill’s murderer. “After Uncle John Ward died, Small Bill became friends with a man named Leonard Cooper. When Cooper was killed in battle, Small Bill decided to trade places with him. He didn’t want to come back to Byerly. He wanted to make his own life somewhere new, and he thought that this was his only chance. There was only one thing holding him back: the promise he had made to Small Bill.”

  “I’m leaving,” Clara announced. “None of this has anything to do with me.”

  “I don’t believe you will,” Aunt Maggie said quietly, and Clara blanched and finally sat down.

  I went on with the story. “Small Bill wanted to make sure that Uncle John Ward’s letter got back to you, but he didn’t trust the mail. That meant that someone had to bring it back. By now he was in an Army hospital under the name of Leonard Cooper, and who should he see being carried in but Ed McDonald, his old friend from Byerly. I checked, and found out that Small Bill was there when Ed was treated for those two fingers he lost. Small Bill thought he could trust Ed, so he told him he didn’t think he was going to make it, and he gave him the things from Uncle John Ward and made him promise to carry them to Aunt Daphine.”

  “When Ed got better, he went back to the fighting, and by the time he got back to Byerly, everybody knew that Small Bill was dead. Ed must have assumed that he had died in the hospital after he saw him.”

  “Why didn’t Ed give me my letter?” Aunt Daphine asked.

  “I imagine he intended to, Aunt Daphine, but something happened before he could. I can only guess what it was, but I started supposing what it was like when a soldier came home. Probably the first thing he wanted to do was be alone with his wife. Then he’d probably sleep for a week. Isn’t that right, Clara?”

  Clara didn’t say anything. She just stared at her finger, and twisted her diamond ring round and round.

  “Of course, Clara wouldn’t have been sleeping all that time. She’d want to unpack his bags and do his laundry, make him feel at home. That’s when she found it.”

  “Found what?” Aunt Daphine asked.

  “The gift Uncle John Ward had sent for you. Only she didn’t know it was for you—she thought it was for her. I can’t blame her for thinking that because I probably would have thought the same thing. By the time Ed woke up, she had probably told everybody in town that he had brought it for her. Ed couldn’t stand the idea of taking it away from her, so he didn’t.
He just kept quiet.”

  “What about the letter?” Aunt Daphine said.

  “He must have been afraid to give it to you because he figured it mentioned the gift he couldn’t give to you. Maybe he read it. I don’t know for sure, and I don’t know why he didn’t just throw it away. I’m guessing that he always felt guilty about it, and maybe he hoped he’d think of a way to make it right someday. He never did. Then he died.

  “Afterwards, Clara must have gone through his things, and that’s probably when she found that letter. And she read it. And she finally found out that the gift she had been so proud of for all these years was never meant for her at all. Isn’t that right, Clara?”

  Clara still wouldn’t answer.

  “I apologize for reading this letter, Aunt Daphine,” I said, “but I had to make sure that I was right.” I handed it to her.

  Aunt Daphine unfolded it carefully, as if afraid she’d break it. Then she read it out loud.

  Dear Daphine,

  By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. Bill keeps trying to tell me that I’ll be all right, but I know better. I can tell the difference between a hurt you can walk away from and one you can’t. I won’t be walking away from this one.

  I’m writing this to tell you how much I love you, and that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I wondered before if we should have waited to make love to one another, but now I am so glad that we didn’t. I thought we’d have our whole lives together, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be that way.

  Don’t ever forget me Daphine, or how much I love you. I’m sending something to you along with this letter, something I wanted to give you myself, down on one knee to ask you proper. Always wear it for me, Daphine. Maybe we weren’t married in the eyes of the law, but I know that we were married in the eyes of God, and that’s all that matters to me.

  I love you Daphine, and I’ll be watching over you.

  Love,

  John Ward

  Aunt Daphine carefully folded the letter, and softly said, “He bought me an engagement ring. He was going to ask me to marry him.” Her eyes were brimming with tears, and I hated to interrupt her memories of Uncle John Ward, but I wasn’t done yet.