by Lisa Turner
“Of course,” Saunders said. “I’d like to come to a performance sometime, but right now I’d appreciate it if you’d see that everyone has champagne. I want to make a toast.”
Even with Caroline gone, Zelda would always get second billing in the family. But if her feelings were ruffled, she recovered quickly. “Happy to. And I’ll take a piece of caramel cake up to Aunt Gracie Ella. It’s her favorite.”
As she walked away, Billy said to Saunders, “I noticed your sister’s car is still parked out front. Is she all right?”
“She’s been shut up in her room ever since the other night. She won’t speak. She hardly eats. I’m afraid losing Sparrow has further damaged her mind.”
“She blames your wife for your daughter’s death.”
Saunders studied him. “I had hoped you disregarded that outburst. That’s her illness talking. It started after Finn disappeared. For some reason, she’s decided Rosalyn was responsible.”
“What’s behind that?”
He shook his head. “A long-standing dispute that’s been going on between them since grade school. Gracie Ella wouldn’t speak to me for a year after I married Rosalyn. Then she married late and was divorced, so she went to work at the bank as senior trust officer. She and Rosalyn had to come to an understanding for the family’s sake.
“Unfortunately, after Finn disappeared Gracie became so delusional the doctors had to hospitalize her. The psychiatrist said shock treatments were her only hope. I’d just been diagnosed with this damned illness and wasn’t up to making that kind of decision. Rosalyn took on the responsibility.”
Saunders pulled out a handkerchief and patted his mouth. “My sister is an amazing woman. She raised Finn by herself. She showed her horses and learned to fly airplanes. The shame of it is after those treatments she’s never really come back to us.”
His hand slid off Billy’s shoulder. “It’s time I say a few words in my daughter’s honor. We’ll have our talk after that.”
The old man collected himself and shuffled to the terrace wall, Blue joining him with a chair in case it was needed. The group quieted.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice to share this beautiful day with me,” Saunders began.
He paused and cleared his throat. “My daughter Caroline was a child of summer. She loved the sun. The day I learned she was gone, the skies grew dark and the rain came down. I thought I would never feel the sun’s warmth again.
“When I woke this morning, it came to me that she would be let down by my sadness. She would want the days of her life celebrated, not mourned.”
He stopped, eyes glistening. “I’ll share a story with you, something many of you may have wondered about. The spring Caroline turned six, our cat brought a baby sparrow into the house. It was unharmed, so my daughter took it upon herself to hand-raise it. She walked around the house with it riding on her shoulder, tucked under her hair.
“The bird grew up. Caroline took me aside one day and said, in that serious way little girls have, ‘Daddy, it’s almost time for my sparrow to fly away.’ I told her she was right, but that she would always be my Sparrow.
“I said those words knowing my daughter would one day grow up and leave me.” His voice blurred. “This was not the leave-taking I had imagined.”
He raised his glass. “So let’s turn mourning into celebration. Please lift your glass to the lovely Caroline Lee, belle of Airlee Plantation, my Sparrow, my heart. She flew away too soon.” He turned to the second-story window where Zelda and Gracie Ella were watching and acknowledged them. Zelda waved. Gracie Ella turned from the window.
Saunders took a seat in the chair. His guests gathered around him.
Blue came over to Billy. “I’m to give you a tour of the kennels and barn. Mr. Lee will come down to speak with you in private.”
Chapter 31
Billy and Blue walked the gravel path to the eight-stall timber-framed barn, built in the forties with hand-hewn beams. The double doors at either end of the dirt hall had been opened to the sunlight and fresh air after so many wet and gloomy days.
“Beautiful speech,” Billy commented. “Caroline would’ve loved it.”
“Mr. Lee did all right,” Blue said. “He wrote those words this morning.”
Billy had worried the old man would break down during his speech. He should’ve been concerned about his own emotions. He couldn’t help but think that if he had been at the diner the day Caroline came to leave her note, he could have convinced her of how much he loved her. And maybe their fates would’ve been different.
They walked into the barn hall, fragrant with the sharp smell of fresh wood shavings used as bedding in the stalls. Blue explained his daily routine—feed, muck out stalls, rake the barn hall, wipe down the benches that line the hallway, and knock down cobwebs with a broom. In the mornings he turned out the farm’s five saddle horses and brought them in at night. The handmade Tucker plantations saddles and the bridles—each on a stand with the horse’s name carved on the front—were cleaned and oiled once a month.
They stopped at the stall of a tall gray horse that was bobbing his head over the door, wanting to be noticed.
“This is Bucky. He’s a Tennessee Walker,” Blue said. “Mr. Lee bought him for me to ride on the bird dog circuit.” He scratched the horse’s forehead and gave his neck a pat.
They walked around the barn’s shed row to the kennels. Three dogs, quivering with energy, leapt onto the chain link fence.
“You know about field bird dogs?” Blue asked.
“Not my area.”
“The two white and liver-colored dogs are English pointers. Hawk there is a tri-colored English setter. We expect Hawk to be national champion this year. These dogs are Mr. Lee’s passion. It’s my hope they’ll keep him going.”
One of the pointers stood on his hind legs and rested his paws against the chain link. Blue put his hand to the gate so the dog could lick his fingers. “My dad used to work Mr. Lee’s bird dogs. Best trainer in Mississippi back in the day. He had a way with dogs and horses.”
“Some folks have the magic,” Billy said.
“My dad worked for Mr. Lee five days a week doing whatever needed to be done. Weekends he fixed up old cars and sold them for cash. My mom worked as a nurse’s aid at the clinic mopping floors and emptying bedpans eight hours a day. Then she came home to cook and clean for my brother and me and my dad.” He shook his head. “It was a terrible time for my folks, losing my sisters to murder that way, but the Lord sustained them. They worked hard to put together a down payment on three hundred acres Mr. Lee had agreed to sell to them. It’s good land near the river, not prone to flooding.
“Came time to close the deal, the bank wouldn’t give my dad a loan. Mr. Lee took his note. He caught hell for it from the other plantation owners … selling prime land to a black man. But Mr. Lee respected my dad. He understood a black man in the Delta had his manhood challenged every day. My dad earned enough money from farming to send my brother and me to college. Dad being in charge of his own future changed things for our family. Mr. Lee made that possible. Even after my dad left Airlee, he came back every week to help Mr. Lee work his dogs.”
A breeze blew leaves against the side of the barn. The two pointers circled the kennel, heads up, catching a scent.
Blue checked his watch. “I have to go. My folks are due back from the doctor, and Mom’s going to need help with my dad. Mr. Lee said he would be down soon.”
Blue left. Billy went to the barn hall to sit on a bench with his head resting against the wall. The pervasive, warm scent of horseflesh comforted him. He listened to Bucky inside his stall licking his feed box and the clink of the dogs jumping on the chain link. He was trying to picture himself returning to this slowed-down Mississippi life when Saunders stepped into the barn hall, the afternoon light behind him emphasizing the stiffness of his gait. He sat heavily on the bench beside Billy and picked up a length of bailing wire. He bent it in a coil as he spoke.
“I appreciate the time you took to come here and talk with an old man. My wife wants to protect me from the details of our daughter’s murder. She means well, but I have to know how my Sparrow died.”
Billy understood a father’s need for information. Grief demands answers. “Two shots fired, small caliber. One bullet penetrated the car’s headliner board. The second was fatal. We believe your daughter fought her assailant.”
“Where did the bullet enter?”
“Her right cheek. It was contained, very little damage. Death came quickly.”
“Was she armed?”
“She had a loaded derringer in her handbag.”
The old man pondered that. “I gave every woman in the family a .32 for self-protection. Appears it did my daughter no good.”
“Every woman?”
“Rosalyn has a sweet little derringer, diamonds imbedded in the grip, a wedding present. She keeps it in her lingerie drawer, refuses to carry it. My sister already owned a shotgun and several handguns, but I gave her a pearl-handled derringer with some riverboat-gambler history behind it.”
“What about Zelda?”
“I gave her a .32 derringer for her sixteenth birthday. Sparrow and Zelda both know how to use a gun.” He set down the coil of wire. “I’m told my daughter was on her way here Monday night to be married. Was the groom Dr. Sharma?”
“I don’t know for certain.”
“That’s why you insinuated there might be another man in Caroline’s life.”
“I have to consider all possibilities, sir. I meant no disrespect to your daughter.”
Saunders gave him an appraising look. “Two weeks ago Sparrow and I had lunch in Memphis at Houston’s. Robert Highsmith was seated at a nearby table. He joined us. I once saw a man walk into a tree because he couldn’t take his eyes off my daughter. I found it odd that Highsmith ignored her all during lunch. He spoke primarily to me.”
“You think he wasn’t interested in your daughter?”
Saunders scoffed. “The man was so smitten he was afraid to look at her. If you’re searching for another man in her life, put Highsmith at the top of the list.”
The sound of hooves on packed dirt stopped their conversation. Zelda entered the barn leading a black and white horse by a belt she’d looped around its neck.
“Houdini opened the gate and joined the luncheon,” she said.
Saunders nodded. “Damned smart horse. Will you bring in the others? Blue had to leave to take care of his dad.”
She beamed. “My favorite chore.” She turned the horse into his stall and took three halters from their hooks, giving Billy a quick smile.
Saunders watched her leave. “You know about Zelda?”
“I don’t.”
Saunders stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his head against the wall. “Her father was Rosalyn’s brother. He traded commodities, a real gambler by nature. Did okay until he bet big that a drought would raise soybean prices. He took a colossal loss. He bet again, lost the rest of his money, and ruined several clients. Zelda was seven at the time. His wife Julie was four months pregnant. A boy.
“He went hunting on a Sunday morning alone. He wasn’t back by four so we went looking for him. We found him at dusk tangled in a barbed wire fence. He’d tried to climb through and shot himself in the chest. The coroner ruled it an accident, but he’d recently bought a big life insurance policy, so we knew the truth. Julie miscarried because of the stress. I stepped in where I could for Zelda. She’s an odd one. She needs guidance.” He looked over at Billy. “Did she tell you her mother died a year ago?”
“She mentioned it.”
“Julie took a midnight swim at a Miami hotel pool after too much champagne. She drowned. That’s a lot for a young woman to handle, but out of all the kids I believe Zelda is the strongest.”
As an attorney, Saunders Lee was a practiced judge of human nature. He’d picked up on the emotional connection between Highsmith and Caroline. That confirmation was important, but Saunders had given him even more significant information.
Zelda owned a .32.
Billy walked with Saunders to the terrace where guests were beginning to leave. He excused himself on the pretense of using the bathroom in the house. He searched around until he found what he was looking for in the kitchen—Zelda’s purse and her car keys beside it. He took what he needed and went outside to the porch to check his mobile. Kloss had texted that several potential leads had come in on the tip line. The second text was from his friend in Chicago:
In court all day. Answer to your question: I defended three clients against Highsmith. Tough litigator. IMHO he quit SA office on principle. Home for Christmas. Come by the house if you can. Carson.
Chapter 32
Billy waited on the porch until Zelda came downstairs after saying goodbye to her aunt. She went to the kitchen for her purse but then couldn’t find her keys. She and Odette tore up the kitchen looking for them, when in fact he’d slipped them inside a large book on the hall table for his own reasons. They finally gave up, assuming one of the guests had picked up the keys by mistake.
When Zelda said she was due back in the evening to teach a tap class at the Y, he offered her a ride and suggested that Blue might be coming to Memphis in the morning. If she had a second set of keys, Blue could bring her back for her car. She said she thought that was a wonderful idea.
Out front of the house, he held the car door for Zelda. She tucked her skirts inside and gave him a coy little smile. Great. From the looks of it, she thought this was a date. That wasn’t at all what he had in mind.
As they turned out of the driveway, she pulled two sticks of gum from her purse. “Doublemint. Want some?”
He shook his head. “Thanks.”
She folded a stick of gum in her mouth and started chewing. “Perfect setting for the celebration. Amazing food. Odette should’ve opened a catering business instead of staying with the Lees all this time.”
She bent forward to arrange her skirt over her knees. “Uncle Saunders’s tribute was sweet. Aunt Gracie Ella and I stood at the window so we could hear. I’m sure Caroline would’ve been touched. She loved her daddy.”
“Mr. Lee will need time to work through his grief.”
She popped her gum. “Losing Caroline is going to be hard on him.”
Billy looked over. This person was not going to step into Caroline’s role. At least the Lees could afford a platoon of caregivers, and Blue actually cared about the old guy.
He sympathized with Saunders, but he also knew the other side of aging and illness. A different class of the elderly was trapped in their inner city homes, living with fear, the phone their lifeline, and 911 their only backup. He’d hammered into the heads of rookies who rode with him on patrol that the welfare of those people was a big part of their duty.
He had a duty in front of him now. How to begin?
“Would you say Caroline and Robert Highsmith were friends?” he asked.
“I don’t know about that. The only time I heard her mention Robert was when she talked about the protective order.” She cocked her head. “You’re suspicious of him?”
He shrugged. “I’m suspicious by nature.”
“Hmm. Well, I read the article in this morning’s paper. A big chunk was about your personal life. Where did the reporter get her information?”
He ducked his head. “We dated a while back.”
Zelda snorted. “You’re too old to date.”
“I was being tactful. We lived together. I made the mistake of trusting her. We talked about our childhoods one night. She used what I said in the article.”
“Trust isn’t a bad thing.”
“It is in my business. She’s a snake in the grass, but she’s also a good reporter.”
Zelda crossed her arms. “With all this, I’m beginning to think my family is cursed. Finn’s gone, Saunders is ill, and now Caroline’s been murdered. Aunt Gracie Ella has gone over the edge. I took her s
ome cake. She thought I was Caroline.”
There was his opening. “Your aunt blames Rosalyn for Caroline’s death.”
“I’ve heard it before. Finn disappeared and Aunt Gracie Ella started accusing Aunt Rosalyn of having him murdered. She blabbed it to anyone in town who’d listen. Swear to God Rosalyn approved those shock treatments just to shut her up.”
He’d wondered the same thing. “What’s behind that?”
Zelda slipped on her Ray-Bans. “My opinion … it’s because Finn was gay. He wasn’t open about it, but I think Aunt Rosalyn knew. She’s a major homophobe. The thought of him becoming a lawyer and wanting to work at the firm right under her nose probably drove her nuts.
“She must have thought the problem was solved when Harvard Law came into the picture. She started pushing Finn to find a summer internship in DC or with a New York firm hoping he’d be hired. Then at Thanksgiving Finn announced he planned to come home and work at the Lee Law Firm. I thought she was going to stab him with the carving knife. Rosalyn and Gracie Ella excused themselves and went to the kitchen for dessert plates. They started shouting. Uncle Saunders said we should all leave. No pumpkin pie that year.”
“So what if Finn was gay?”
She shook her head, hair bouncing. “It wasn’t just that he was gay. As a family member, he had the opportunity to make partner. Finn was this tenacious guy. When he got hold of something he wouldn’t let go. I think Rosalyn was afraid he would challenge her control.”
A flatbed truck stacked with hay bales passed on the opposite side of the road. An ancient yellow Lincoln stuffed with teenagers followed close behind.
Zelda frowned. “I just thought of something. Monday when I was asking Caroline about the ring, another issue came up. That morning Robert Highsmith had asked for sequestered files I’m not supposed to release. He got really upset about it. I said he should talk to Caroline. Well, honey … when I told her that, she let me have it. She came out from behind her desk and started shouting about office procedures. She said I should keep my damned ideas to myself. I was humiliated, so I yelled back. We were pretty loud. I opened the door to leave and her assistant was standing there listening. Later in the day Caroline’s assistant came to the file room to sign out every file Robert had asked for. Twenty-three of them.”