Hornswoggled - An Alafair Tucker Mystery

by Donis Casey

Chapter Sixteen

  By the time they got home, Alafair had settled into a black silence. Even Grace was sensitive to the storm clouds on her mother’s horizon, and the baby sat on Mary’s lap in quiet wonder all the way home. When they pulled up to the house, Alafair handed the baby to Mary and stalked off toward the fields looking for Shaw, leaving Mary to unload the buggy and take care of the horse as best she could.

  Martha and Phoebe had heard them drive up and were at the screen when Mary came up with a box of jars under one arm and Grace on the other. “What’s wrong with Mama?” Phoebe asked, as she pushed the door open for her sister and took the jars.

  “We heard some news in town,” Mary told her. As she walked across the parlor, she could see Alice through the door into her parents’ bedroom, still sitting at the sewing machine. “Alice,” she called, “come on into the kitchen. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  ***

  The four sisters sat in silence for a long moment after Mary related the tale of Nellie’s confession and Alafair’s response to it. Mary and Martha were warily anticipating Alice’s reaction, and Phoebe, stunned, had nothing to say. Alice was gazing blankly at the floor.

  Unable to keep still any longer, Mary asked, “Well?”

  Alice lifted her head to stare off into middle space as she considered her situation, but she didn’t answer.

  “Sounds like Mama’s determined to convince you that Walter is no good,” Martha ventured.

  Alice’s gaze slid back to her sister’s face. “Mama can’t stop me from marrying him if I’ve a mind to.” Her voice was calm.

  Phoebe leaned back against the cabinet and folded her arms across her chest. “Wait a minute now, Alice. Do you really want to choose him over Mama and Daddy? Maybe end up separated from your family?”

  “I don’t think it would come to that. And if it did, it wouldn’t be my doing.”

  “Alice,” Mary admonished, “Mama’s not one to make a mountain out of a molehill. She thinks she’s got some good reasons for feeling like she does. Have you really studied on what she’s been trying to tell you?”

  Alice leaped up from her chair and took a few paces around the kitchen, stepping over Grace, who was wriggling around underfoot. “Not y’all, too! I thought my sisters were on my side.”

  “We are,” Martha protested. “Lord knows I want you to have the man you love, but I don’t want you to be at such odds with Mama, either.”

  Alice stopped pacing and placed her fists on her hips. “Well, what does she want from me, then? I’ve done what she asked me. I’ve kept apart from Walter all this time and my feelings aren’t changed. Don’t that prove I know my own mind?”

  Phoebe bit her lip. “What if after this month is up, you find Walter’s mind has changed?”

  “I won’t.”

  “You should be prepared, now. I had dinner with Aunt Josie and Maxine today, and Maxine said that Walter…”

  “I don’t want to hear any gossip about Walter,” Alice interrupted. “That was what drove him and his first wife apart. I won’t hear it. I won’t believe it.”

  “Well, I want to hear it,” Martha said. “You can just put your fingers in your ears, Alice. What did Maxine say, Phoebe?”

  “Calm down, Alice,” Phoebe soothed. “It wasn’t that bad. Just something you should consider. Maxine told me that her and Edria Harvey and Lollie June Griffith were out shopping this morning and ran across Walter in front of his barber shop. Walter was doing quite a bit of sweet talking with the three of them, and Lollie June invited Walter to Sunday dinner. He accepted. Maxine was surprised, knowing how you two are practically promised to one another.”

  Alice emitted a disdainful laugh. “That’s just his way. He’s a man needs company. It don’t mean anything.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t like it if my intended acted that way,” Mary said.

  “I’m not you,” Alice blazed. “I trust my man.” She turned on Phoebe. “And in future, don’t be so eager to pass on to me every ugly rumor you hear. I know Walter a lot better than you.”

  Phoebe put her hands up to ward off Alice’s pique. “All right.” She was unruffled. She was used to Alice’s outspoken ways. “I just thought you should have all the information you can get before you decide.”

  “I’ve decided.”

  “So I see.”

  “We just don’t want you to be hurt,” Mary interjected. “Whatever happens, we’re still your family.”

  Alice nodded, slightly mollified, and the sisters returned to their tasks. As she stirred the soup, though, Alice realized that she was rather dismayed at her mother’s renewed opposition to her romance. And, she hated to admit it, but she was more than a little alarmed at Maxine’s report.

  Her stirring became more vigorous. They just didn’t understand. This never would have happened if her parents hadn’t imposed this ridiculous separation on her. Walter would never have become bored enough to seek companionship if she had been available to him. She had certainly proved to herself that her feelings for Walter weren’t going to change.

  I’m not going to lose him, she thought. No matter what.

  ***

  Shaw was not in the barn. In the large workshop appended to the side of the barn, Alafair found Micah, one of Shaw’s hired men, planing a plank for some ongoing repair job. He told her that Shaw, Gee Dub, and the other hired hand, Kurt, had gone out to the back pasture to bring in some of the mules for shoeing. Alafair’s righteous indignation about Walter Kelley deflated a bit when she heard that, since the back pasture was a good two miles from the house, and the sun was already sinking toward the horizon.

  She headed out of the workshop, but she was still too fired up to go back to the house, and without really meaning to, she found herself walking the path through the corn field that led to Cane Creek. Unlike Bird Creek, which ran through a wooded, overgrown area on the north side of the Tucker property, the banks of Cane Creek were relatively clear, lined only by a few tall elms and cottonwoods and not much brush or undergrowth. Alafair’s feet took her directly to the undercut cottonwood whose tangled, half-exposed roots had hidden the body of Louise Kelley.

  Alafair stood for a few minutes gazing into the dark water. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed heavily. “Now what, Louise?” she murmured. “What’re all these signs and smells and feelings that you’ve been sending me, if you just killed yourself? Sweet Lord, how miserable you must have been to want to dash yourself against a wall and plunge a knife into your heart.” A shudder passed over her body at the very thought. “Rest now, Louise,” she said aloud. “Let it go. There isn’t anything I can do to help you.”

  “Miz Tucker?” said a man’s voice behind her.

  Alafair turned around, startled and more than a little surprised at herself for not hearing someone walk up on her. “Walter!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Walter Kelley was standing a few yards up the hill, gazing down at her with his hands in his pockets and a mildly disconcerted expression on his face. “I just talked to the sheriff,” he told her. “I felt the need to come. I’ve never seen where she was found.”

  Alafair nodded. It seemed a reasonable explanation, but his presence made her nervous. She suddenly found herself thinking of another chance encounter she had had with a man on a creek bank just the year before. She had ended up with a cracked skull, that time. “How’d you get on the property?” she asked, a little too sharply.

  “I cut across from the road,” he admitted. “I’m sorry for trespassing, but I was afraid if I went by the house, I’d see Alice, and I promised I wouldn’t.”

  Alafair knew she should be gratified, but she wasn’t in a very charitable mood. “So you heard the tale that Louise killed herself,” she challenged.

  Walter nodded. “So Nellie says. The sheriff told me her story, though I didn’t get the feeling that he quite believes it. Sounds to me like a pretty ridiculous thing to do, burn Louise’s suicide note and then sto
mp around the house in my shoes. But then Nellie and Ned never were real clear thinkers.”

  “Especially when it comes to you,” Alafair pointed out, still feeling mean.

  A wry look crossed Walter’s face. “Especially,” he agreed. He walked down toward the creek, and Alafair moved off to the side, giving him a wide berth as he approached the bank. He gazed down into the water. “But I’m wondering who in the world found her lying dead in the house and then went to all the trouble to pick her up—knife still in her heart, mind you—and cart her all the way out here on the back of a donkey to hide her in the creek.” He shook his head in befuddlement. “I can’t fathom it.” He glanced at Alafair. “Maybe Nellie and Ned are lying,” he ventured.

  “I don’t know why,” Alafair said.

  “Maybe it was them boys that Louise went out with,” he persisted. “Maybe the two of them found her and got afraid that exactly what did happen would happen—that they might be accused of killing her, so they hid the body in a panic.”

  Alafair was about to say something dismissive, but she paused. His theory made sense. In fact, the same thought had crossed her mind. She wished she could arrange another alley interview with Billy Bond and his cousin, but she didn’t think she could get away with that twice. “If that’s what they did, why didn’t they tell the sheriff?” she wondered.

  Walter shrugged. “Who’d believe them?”

  Alafair pondered this for a minute. “Scott has probably already thought of this and talked to the boys about it, but maybe you’d better mention it to him when you get back to town.”

  “I will,” he said, but he didn’t move. He stood where he was, hands in pockets, staring dismally into the creek.

  “Why do you care?” Alafair demanded, not caring that she was being unreasonable.

  Walter looked up at her, then. He didn’t appear surprised by her outburst. He eyed her for a moment while he framed his answer. “I know you don’t believe me, Miz Tucker,” he said at length, “but I never wanted to be rid of Louise. We got married early. We had known each other since we were kids. My mother thought she’d steady me, and so did I, for that matter. She was a pretty gal, a good cook. Liked everything just so, kept a fine house. I certainly didn’t want anything like this to happen. She had cause to be upset with me, I admit it, but I don’t know why she hated me so. I did the best I could for her, but it just wasn’t ever enough. I’d have give her a divorce if she’d asked for one. Louise had money of her own, that her daddy left her, and I’d have give her as much more as she wanted,” he assured her, sad and a bit peevish. “She didn’t have no call to try and have me killed.”

  “You broke her heart,” Alafair told him.

  He looked away again, back down into the water. “Believe me, if I’d have known she felt so strong about it, I’d never…” The pained expression on his face faded, slowly changed to one of puzzlement. “What’s that?” he said.

  Alafair didn’t understand at first. “What?”

  He nodded toward the root tangle at her feet. “What’s that?” he repeated. “There, that shiny thing?”

  She looked down and saw the silvery glint of the afternoon sun reflecting off of something metallic just under the water, caught in the roots. Before she could venture a guess, Walter crossed in front of her and lay down on his belly on the bank. He stretched out his hand and plucked the object out of the water, then rose to his knees to study it. A sigh escaped him.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s my missing razor,” he said.

  “Nellie said they left some of your barber things with Louise’s body,” Alafair told him. “It must have got tangled up with her clothes when whoever it was moved her. Wonder why we didn’t see it when we found her?”

  “It’s got a wooden handle. It probably floated up after a spell and got caught in the roots.” He thrust it toward Alafair. “I don’t believe I want it any more.”

  Surprised, she accepted it. Walter stood up and brushed the grass off of his trousers.

  “Walter,” Alafair said, “do you care for my girl?”

  Walter blinked at her before he answered. “I truly do.”

  “Then leave her alone. She deserves better.”

  The barber drew back, stung. “Miz Tucker,” he said, “I wish you didn’t mislike me so.”

  “So do I,” Alafair admitted. “For Alice’s sake, I wish you were a better person. Now, I think you’d better get back into town and tell the sheriff your idea about Jeff Stubblefield and Billy Bond.”

  ***

  “Louise Kelly never killed herself,” Scott said. He leaned back from the dinner table and took a swig of his coffee. Through the screen of the open back door, the four people at the table could hear the metallic clinks and good-natured jibing as Scott and Hattie’s boys played horseshoes with Shaw and Alafair’s children. The days were getting longer, but it would only be a quarter-hour or so before it was too dark to play outside, and children would come trooping back into the house to pop corn on the stove or have another piece of pie. Shaw and Hattie leaned forward in anticipation at Scott’s pronouncement. Alafair, still in a black mood after the events of the day, picked apart the remains of her pie with her fork, finding it hard to listen to more speculation about this depressing murder.

  She had said nothing to Alice earlier. After meeting Walter on the creek bank, she hadn’t seen the point. There was still more than one week to go on Alice’s courting moratorium. She had decided to wait and see what fell out after that.

  So she had said nothing. That evening had proceeded as normal, but the air between her and Alice had been strained. Alafair knew very well that Mary had told Alice what their mother had said on the trip home, about Walter being trouble, so the tension didn’t surprise Alafair. After Scott and Hattie and their boys had arrived for supper, Alice seemed to relax, apparently relieved that no confrontation had materialized. So Alafair had been going about her business ever since, trying very hard not to worry about the future.

  “Doc Addison says the knife went in at an angle,” Scott was saying, oblivious to Alafair’s disenchantment with the topic. “From top to bottom, and not straight on like it would have done if she’d run at the wall. And however it was done, it wasn’t at that house. There wasn’t any blood, footprints or otherwise. Even the crack in the plaster looked natural to me, and far too low down. Not like Louise crashed against the wall. That knife went into her body hard and she bled hard. There would have been blood everywhere and not just on that rug. In fact, if it wasn’t for that rug, I’d doubt that Louise’s body had ever been in that house.”

  “But what about Nellie’s story? What about the note?” Shaw asked.

  “If there was a note, somebody besides Louise wrote it. Remember how Nellie said it was so scribbled that she could hardly read it?”

  Shaw laughed at the grim irony of it. “So the killer wanted to make it look like suicide, and the Tollands turned around and made it look like murder again.”

  “Yes, if the Tollands are telling the truth.”

  “Is it possible that they found Louise in her parlor, like they said?” Hattie asked her husband.

  “They could have, if she was already dead when somebody put her there. And then somebody else cleaned up good after they took her body away.”

  “So tell us, Scott,” Shaw urged. “What do you think happened to poor Louise?”

  Scott paused, enjoying the expressions of fascination on his listeners’ faces. He paused and took another swig of his coffee while he considered what and how much he could tell them and keep a good conscience about it. “Well, all I know for sure is that Louise was stabbed with a bone-handled knife and crammed up under some roots in Cane Creek a few hours later by two people, one bigger than the other, if I’m a judge of footprints. They were riding horses and leading a small jackass or jenny with a nicked shoe. I don’t know where she was killed and I don’t know who did it or why.”

  “I’m betting you have an opinion, though,
” Shaw said.

  “Might.”

  “Scott Tucker,” Hattie puffed, exasperated. “You’re like to drive a body mad. None of us are going to tell anybody what you think. Are we, Alafair?”

  “I’m not,” Alafair assured him.

  Scott laughed. “All right, then. But y’all better not spread it around. If the Tollands found Louise in her parlor, she had to have been killed somewhere other than her house. It wasn’t in her yard, either. I had dogs all over the Kelley place after she was found dead, and if she had bled out anywhere around there, they would have found it. Then the killers carried her home and left her in her parlor, after going to some trouble to make it seem that Louise killed herself.

  “I expect that Ned and Nellie Tolland found her body in the parlor not long after, when they came to check on her, and believed that she had done herself in. That’s when they hatched their knuckleheaded plan to frame Walter, and destroyed all the evidence of suicide. Whereupon, somebody else finds her after the Tollands leave and carts her off to the creek. I’m guessing it was the killer who did that, too. He probably was lurking about when Ned and Nellie came by, and after they left he decided to get rid of the body once and for all. He more than likely cleaned up the house, so it would look like she had never been there at all.”

  “You believe the Tollands when they say they didn’t put her in the creek?” Alafair was interested in spite of herself.

  “Neither of their donkeys had a nicked shoe. Of course, it’s been months, so they could have been re-shod by now, but it didn’t look like it to me.”

  “Could they have killed her?” Alafair asked. “Nellie and her sister did have their disagreements in the past. Maybe Nellie killed her and Ned helped her to cover it up.”

  “Could have, but I doubt it. Nellie didn’t have to come forward, but she did. The simplest explanation is that Billy Bond did it, even if Louise and him did have a mutual grievance with Walter. It may have been a fight over who knows what. Folks who have been drinking do stupid things. He probably never started out to do any such thing as kill somebody.”