by Martha Carr
“Lilly’s dead,” said Wallis, as she kneeled down, not even trying to whisper. Father Donald stopped in midsentence as he was blessing a wafer and glanced over at Wallis. He caught himself and said, “Feed on him in thy heart, with thanksgiving,” in an even calm tone as he moved down the line. Norman would have thought Father Donald was unmoved if he didn’t see the slight tremor in his hand as he placed the wafer in the person’s outstretched palm.
“Murdered, Lilly was murdered. Her throat cut,” said Wallis, still talking at a normal volume. Others at the rail looked up and turned their heads toward her. Father Donald kept moving down the line. “Preserve thy body and soul into everlasting life,” he said as he reached down and gently turned over Wallis’ hands, peeling them away from the rail. He placed the wafer in her hands and stopped for a moment to place his palm heavily on the top of her head, leaning in so no one could hear him.
“There is no balance in a war like this one. Not knowing seems ridiculous until you realize just how much there is to know,” he whispered. “Then you have to decide if you’re willing to fight or are just going to give in. No one can make that decision for you, but I hope you fight,” he said, biting off the last word.
Wallis let her head fall on top of her folded hands as she clutched the rail. Norman grabbed her around the shoulders and helped her rise to her feet as they moved back down the aisle. She looked first at Bob and Yvette’s children as she passed by the front aisle and said, “I’m sorry.” Norman gave her a gentle nudge to try and keep her moving as Maureen reached out and squeezed her hand. She stopped to grasp Maureen’s hands for just a moment and return the gesture.
People continued to move around them toward the altar or went tromping down the aisle, back to their seat. The choir was singing and had just reached the build-up to the chorus as Wallis heard someone sneer, “Black widow.”
She turned to try and see who it was but no one was looking in her direction. Someone had come to Yvette’s funeral to gloat, she thought. There’s no end to it.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered to Norman as they finally made it back into their pew.
“Yes,” said Norman, looking straight ahead, his mouth pulled into a thin line. Wallis glanced over at Ned who was staring at her with a worried expression on his face.
“I’m okay,” she said, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She smiled and did her best to let her body relax. My son, my beautiful son, she thought. They think he’s some kind of prize.
“I’m going to fight,” she whispered, brushing away a tear.
There was a short reception in Peyton Hall after the service. The body wasn’t being interred until the next day with only the immediate family at the grave site. As everyone filed out Ned ran up and wrapped his arms around his mother as if to comfort her. Wallis rubbed the top of his head and felt some measure of strength return.
“This is what matters,” she said to Norman. “As long as I can remember that I’ll be okay.”
Ned looked up and smiled at her before letting go and running off to find his friends.
Wallis and Norman said their goodbyes and Wallis made a point to put herself on the list to make dinner for Bob. She put down something she knew Norman liked to make knowing full well who would end up doing all of the cooking. Chicken and noodle casserole was always a good comfort food.
They walked in the house and greeted a barking Joe who danced around in circles wagging his tail, happy to see them again. Ned patted his head and dropped his coat in the front hall as he took the stairs two at a time.
“Ned, get your coat,” Wallis called after him. “He can have very selective hearing when he knows I’m too tired to run after him.”
“He has a new video game. I took a look at it. Even his games are more complicated than my high school math class.”
Wallis leaned over and picked up the coat and felt a twinge in her shoulder. Joe ran over to her and licked her face and her hand, running back and forth across the coat until Wallis had to smile.
“This is why we have a dog,” said Norman. “Really happy to see us and with very few expectations. Aren’t you, Joe?” he asked, as Joe rolled over and he rubbed the dog’s belly.
“Norman,” she said, as he took off his tie and threw it on the banister. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Harriet is right. We have to go on with our normal routines as much as possible. I can’t do this to Ned. I can’t let him think he needs to watch out for me. That’s even worse than having him look at those files.”
“You’re a good mother,” said Norman, as he pulled off a shoe.
Wallis picked up his tie and started up the stairs with Norman and Joe right behind her.
“Yeah, well,” said Wallis, “I’m still figuring out what that means.”
“I think,” said Norman, “it’s wanting to stay in the struggle that makes you into one.”
“Kristen McDonough was struggling to do the right thing for her family and look what happened to them,” said Wallis, as she turned and whispered, “All of them dead.”
“We have a few things going for us that the late McDonough’s did not. Chief of those is we still possess this thumb drive and we now know what’s on it.”
“Even if we don’t completely understand all of it. What else?” asked Wallis.
“I’ve been playing this game my entire life and I know how to bend a few rules.”
They both turned and looked downstairs at the front door as someone began repeatedly pushing their doorbell.
“Who could that be?” asked Norman.
“The list is growing too long to guess,” said Wallis, as she turned to go back down the stairs.
“No, no, let me go,” said Norman. “I’d better get down there before whoever it is wakes up Ned and Tom.”
“I should go check on Tom, anyway. See if he’s okay.”
Norman hurried down the stairs in his stocking feet and looked through the peephole to see an angry, older woman standing at his front door holding several cloth bags that were filled to overflowing. He slowly opened the door not sure what to expect.
A faint odor of mildew wafted off of the woman every time she shifted a bag.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m here to see Wallis. Tell her Alice Watkins is at her front door and we have a few things to get straight.”
“Wallis,” Norman called out without turning away from Alice. “I think this one is for you.” He opened the door wider. “Would you like to come in Alice?”
“About time,” she said, as she stepped inside and dropped her bags.
“This way to the kitchen,” he said.
Chapter Eighteen
It was late Friday night and everyone in Wallis’ neighborhood was in for the evening watching TV or already tucked into bed. Richard Bach had been sitting in his SUV down the street from Wallis and Norman’s house keeping watch for hours. The orders were to watch the house till he was relieved but make no contact.
He was still hoping an opportunity would open up to get Wallis Jones alone. He needed that thumb drive in order to get back in the good graces of his Management elders and he suspected Wallis might be in possession of it. He had to find out and try to get it back. It was starting to look like his only option. He was picking up no traces of Robert.
Rodney Parrish appeared in his rear view mirror, walking toward the car as he straightened his tie with one hand and swinging his briefcase by his side in the other. He was humming to himself as he got in the front seat next to Richard and shook his hand before sitting back and letting out a low whistle. He seemed so relaxed. It was annoying Richard.
“Well, well, nice ride, Mr. Bach. I have something very similar.”
Richard was about to interrupt him. He was in no mood for a conversation and he hated being in Rodney Parrish’ company wondering how many old women he had killed with those hands. “It’s okay,” said Rodney. “You’re in a hurry. I got the message from Davey. What can
I do for you? I understand you’re looking for a solution.”
Richard rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked at the front of Wallis’ house. “I have a special situation that I need you to fix.”
“Absolutely, I am your man for all kinds of situations. You need me to get something for you out of that house?” He smiled at Richard and turned his attention to the house. Richard wondered if he was already figuring out the best way to slip in unnoticed.
He could feel his anxiety rising. “No, no, at least not yet. It’s the Blazney guy and that Billings woman, I need to give the cops someone.”
Rodney’s face took on a scowl and he sat back and waited for Richard to speak. Richard knew he never took complaints about his work very well.
“I’m not saying anything in particular about what was done and I don’t care who was involved in any of it,” said Richard, putting out of his mind the old man asking him if he needed to use a phone. “Look, there’s ten grand in it for you and the gratitude of some very important people above me if you can plant some evidence that’ll stick even in court.”
Rodney pursed his lips for a moment before answering. “Not a problem but I’ll need half of it upfront.”
“I have it right here,” he said, patting his coat. “But you have to have it done before the sun rises tomorrow. Is that going to be a problem?”
“I don’t have problems,” said Rodney, smiling broadly. “Where am I leaving this evidence?”
“That’s up to you, Parrish. Just make sure the trail leads to your pal, Oscar. That going to be a problem for you?”
“This is your lucky day, Mr. Bach. I’m able to say, no, not at all to that too. Oscar is not too happy with another situation right at this moment and we are on the outs. Besides, I try not to get too attached to anyone. That becomes a problem when you can’t do your work over some feelings this way or that for someone else.”
“Just make sure the police can’t ignore it or shove it away and get it done by morning. Do that and I’ll be by the counting room this time tomorrow with the rest. Everyone has to be looking for Oscar’s head before then.”
“Like I said, not a problem at all. Just so happens I kept a few trinkets that should work nicely.”
Rodney smiled as Richard handed him a fat, large brown envelope. “It’s been nice doing business with you, Mr. Bach.” He opened the door and slid quietly out of the front seat, humming another tune and swinging his briefcase. Richard watched him in the rearview mirror till he disappeared from view. The tightness in his chest seemed to only grow as he turned his attention back to the front of the house.
There were moments when he lay in his bed in the middle of the night listening to his wife quietly snore and he would wonder what had happened to him. This wasn’t where he had expected to end up when he had started at Sutler. He had pictured himself leading hapless men who didn’t understand what it took to keep a community growing and thriving. He had thought there was going to be a grand purpose. There was very little of that in his job description anymore. He looked out at Wallis’ house and whispered out loud the word that best described himself these days. “Thug,” he said, feeling the tightness spread.
Wallis sat in her kitchen across the island from Alice Watkins waiting for her to say something. Norman was starting a pot of coffee and rooting around in the tall pantry for something in the way of food to offer their late night guest.
Alice looked uncomfortable perched on top of one of the bar stools but she had firmly turned down Wallis’ offer to move to the dining room. Wallis had smelled the distinct odor of damp mildew and had started to offer a towel but thought better of it.
“Alice, I’m a little surprised to see you,” said Wallis. “I thought you had left Richmond in your rear view mirror forever.”
“So did I,” said Alice, “until someone showed up at my new job and tried to kill me. I’m thinking that’s somehow connected to you.”
Norman was struggling with a bag of chips and jerked the sides open too fast, sending a few flying through the air. He tried to gather them up quickly as Wallis took in a deep breath.
“Do you know who it was?” asked Wallis, wondering if Oscar had spread out his territory to Williamsburg.
“No, it was a black fellow. He seemed young and determined. But not many can put one over on me, including him. I was ready for some such nonsense.”
“Ready?” asked Norman who put a plate of chips and cookies in between the two women. “It was all we had,” he said, looking at Wallis.
“Can’t you make a sandwich?” asked Alice. “There’s no real food here,” she said dismissively, moving the plate away from her.
“Absolutely,” said Norman, opening the refrigerator. “Of course.”
“How could you be ready, Alice?” asked Wallis.
She let out a distinct tsk and spread her fingers out, pressing down on top of the wooden island.
“I’d sit at my desk and every now and then think about what I’d do if somebody ever showed up there. I’d plan out how to put a crimp in someone’s day, just in case. It passed the time. I did it at home too. Good thing because that fellow must have been watching my place of business and waited till everyone else was gone. He seemed to know a little bit about what he was doing.”
“Do you mean a professional?” asked Wallis.
“Maybe. Until a few months ago all I knew about any nonsense like this was from watching TV. I’m not sure I’d know the difference between a psychopath and a professional hit man.”
“I’m not sure there is one,” said Wallis.
“Except the hit man has enough sense to at least get paid,” said Norman. Wallis looked at him and Norman shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s okay,” said Alice. “He’s right. But I also have to figure that either way that’s probably not the only attempt that’s going to be made. Now, I’m going to need a way to start over, again,” said Alice, giving a pointed look at Wallis. “But I’m going to need help this time.”
“You’re thinking we may know how to help with that?” asked Norman. He put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of Alice, cut into quarters. “That’s all we have at the moment. Need to make a run to the store.”
Alice let out another distinct ‘tsk and bit into the sandwich, still talking. “I don’t know everything that’s going on but I saw enough of what was on that thumb drive to get that there’s some real organizations behind all of this. Someone is going to know how to help me disappear.”
“I may have an idea,” said Wallis, “but I’ll need to make a few phone calls first. Do you have a place to stay?”
Norman stood behind Alice shaking his head, no but Wallis made a point not to make eye contact.
“I believe I’ll stay here till we figure this out. For some reason no one wants to hurt you,” said Alice, looking directly at Wallis. “That’s some mean reputation you must have.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Wallis, feeling the dull ache that was still in her shoulder. “Let’s go get you settled. You can take the sandwich with you.”
Norman carried up the bags as Wallis followed and made up a bed for Alice who was getting settled in the one remaining bedroom that wasn’t occupied. Alice sat in a chair watching them work.
“Alice, there’s one thing I haven’t been able to figure out at all. How did Ray Billings get involved in the first place?”
“Ray didn’t always work at the Utility Department. He started out as a social worker further down South in Georgia. Spent about six or seven years living on the grounds of a children’s home. That’s where he met that woman that died. Her name was Carol. Hold on a minute, I have her last name here somewhere.” Alice opened her large purse and unzipped a little pocket on the inside. She pulled out a small notebook and thumbed through the pages. “Baumann, she was a Baumann. What, that mean something to you?”
Norman had stopped helping Wallis stuff the pillows into pillowcases and stood up straight.
“Norman, are you alright?”
“The name sounds familiar,” said Norman. “Would you excuse me?”
Wallis thought about following him but she needed information from Alice and she couldn’t take the risk that Alice might decide to stop talking at all, again. There were still a few more questions and fewer people every day who might have the answers.
“It’s been a long day for us. We just got back from a funeral for a good friend. Did you know anything else about her?”
“She’s married now. Ray told me that too. I think it was Schaeffer.”
“She was another social worker, I take it” said Wallis.
“No, she grew up there. She was a resident, you know, an orphan.”
“Why would she give this information to Ray? Were they close?”
“Not particularly. Maybe they were when he had worked at the home but that was a long time ago. No, Carol told Ray that she needed someone she could trust to hold onto all of it until she could figure something out.”
“Figure out what?”
“Who was the turncoat. There is apparently a rat in the woodpile. Carol suspected someone out there in her group was telling tales, especially about that place she grew up, about the orphanage. She was worried that someone was going to end up dead. Boy, was she right about that.”
“Do you think she knew who it was?”
“No, I don’t. That’s what she was trying to find out when she suddenly turned up dead from a drowning. Drowning, my ass. That’s when Ray started to panic and look for someone else to hold the information, just in case. He dragged me and Stanley into it and then he ended up dead. Now, someone’s come after me. Who knows where Stanley has gotten to. I hear he’s stopped showing up at work.” Wallis knew better than to offer any information and let the comment pass.
“Lilly Billings is dead too. Murdered in her home. Her throat was slit,” said Wallis.