“Suzy!” Miss Dimple peered in the window glass. “Please open the door and let us in. All we want to do is talk.”
Charlie recognized the authority in her former teacher’s voice and knew that if she were in Suzy’s place she wouldn’t hesitate to come running. “Somebody’s been here,” she said. “I can see a pan on the stove, and it looks like the remains of a meal on the table.” Good heavens! This sounded familiar. Would the three bears soon wander in from their walk in the woods?
“Wait a minute!” Annie shouted. “I see someone coming.”
The three stepped back and waited as a dark figure emerged from a back room and approached them. Charlie closed her eyes. Please, God, let it be Suzy!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Charlie was surprised when the door opened and a figure wrapped in some sort of blanket hurled herself at Miss Dimple in a most un-Suzy-like show of emotion.
“Oh, thank goodness it’s you!” Suzy shouted. “It’s freezing in here, and dark … and I don’t know what to do!”
“That’s exactly why we’re here,” Miss Dimple said, and with a worried look examined the young woman’s tense face. “Why, Suzy, you’re trembling. Here, let’s sit down for a minute, then we’ll gather your things and take you back to Virginia’s.” Putting an arm around Suzy’s shoulders, she led her to a chair at the kitchen table and took a seat beside her. It was not like the competent young doctor to let her emotions get the better of her. There had to be another reason.
“It seems to be a little warmer in here,” Annie said, touching the stove. “Does the oven work? I see you’ve been using the burners.”
Suzy nodded, teeth chattering. “It’s liquid petroleum—comes in a tank, but it was getting low when Miss Mae Martha died and I don’t know how much is left.”
Miss Dimple patted her shoulder. “When we get back to Virginia’s we’ll warm you with a nice hot bowl of soup and some of my ginger mint tea.”
She was surprised when Suzy stubbornly shook her head. “I can’t do that, Miss Dimple. I’ve made up my mind now and I’m not going to change it. It wasn’t dark enough to walk into town to the bus station this afternoon, but I plan to try again in the morning before it gets light, and if things don’t work out for me in Atlanta, I’ll just have to take my chances with the police.”
“Then why not come back with us,” Annie suggested, “and if you still want to go, we’ll take you to the bus station in the morning?”
It was obvious to Dimple that the suggestion appealed to Suzy, as she seemed to brighten momentarily but continued to insist that she remain where she was. Branches scraped the side of the house in a sudden gust of wind and Suzy jumped at the noise and looked nervously over her shoulder.
“It’s all right,” Miss Dimple assured her calmly. “It’s only the wind.” She paused, and spoke softly. “What is it, Suzy? What’s frightening you?”
Suzy lowered her gaze, making fists of her fingers. “It’s nothing.… I’m just tired. I’ll be fine, really.” She refused to look at Miss Dimple, who continued to watch her in silence. “Something else is troubling you, dear,” she said. “Won’t you tell us what it is?”
Suzy was quiet for a moment and when she looked up, tears filled her eyes and made glistening pathways down her cheeks. “I think there’s somebody here,” she whispered. “They were here before I came—I could tell—and they haven’t left. I can hear them.”
“Where?” Miss Dimple rose quickly to her feet. “Where do you hear them? Show us.”
Suzy looked at the floor and shuddered. “Down there. I think someone’s down there … in the basement.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a basement,” Miss Dimple said. “Is there access from inside the house?”
“There are stairs at the end of the hallway between the two bedrooms, but I never went down there as there wasn’t any need.” Suzy dried her eyes on Miss Dimple’s handkerchief and tugged the blanket closer around her. “I noticed some dishes left out on the table but I thought they might’ve been left there by one of the nephews or Coralee when they came to pack up some of Mrs. Hawthorne’s things.” She paused in an attempt to regain her composure. “It’s so bleak here without her—so lonely! Miss Mae Martha … she made everything come alive in real life as much as she did in her paintings. What kind of person would do that to her?”
“A greedy one, I think,” Miss Dimple said, “and obviously someone without much of a conscience. I believe you might be in real danger here, Suzy. I wouldn’t advise you to stay in this house alone.”
“I think we should notify the police,” Annie said with an eye on the door to the hallway. “It might just be a tramp or somebody who knew the house was vacant, but you certainly can’t stay here like this.”
“But I can’t tell the police! You know I can’t.” Suzy stood, casting aside the blanket.
“Then you might be the next victim.” Miss Dimple’s voice was even. “Is that the chance you want to take? Come back with us, Suzy, and let’s talk about this.”
“Wait a minute,” Charlie whispered, listening for any noise below. “I think I know who that is down there.” She looked from Miss Dimple to Annie. “Rebecca Wyatt hasn’t been seen since that fire in her shed. Do you think she might’ve come here?”
Suzy frowned. “Why would she do that?”
“I believe she’s afraid,” Miss Dimple said.
“Well, that makes two of us! Do you know if she was wearing a shawl?” Suzy asked, moving into the next room. She held up a blue knitted shawl that had been draped across a chair by the fireplace. “Does this look familiar?”
Annie glanced at Miss Dimple. “It looks like the one she had on, but I’m not sure.”
“This is Rebecca’s,” Miss Dimple said, examining the shawl. “I remember the green-striped trim.”
“I know it wasn’t here the day I left to gather greenery,” Suzy said, “the day Miss Mae Martha was killed … If only I’d come back sooner!”
“Suzy.” Miss Dimple’s voice was kind but firm. “Don’t allow ‘if onlies’ into your life. They do no good and they’ll smother you if you let them.
“Now, how do you suppose Rebecca got inside? There must be an entrance to the basement from the outside.”
Suzy nodded. “There’s a door around the side near the porch, and I doubt if it was ever locked. She must’ve gotten in that way and entered the house through the basement stairs.”
Annie glanced at the stand on the hearth that had once held the poker that became a weapon. “Do you think Rebecca was the one who killed Mrs. Hawthorne?” she asked Suzy.
“I don’t know but I can’t imagine why. I didn’t know Rebecca—never even saw her.” Suzy shivered as the wind swept dry twigs and leaves across the porch behind her. “It seems so desolate here without Miss Mae Martha!”
“If Rebecca killed Mrs. Hawthorne, she probably set fire to that shed with us in it,” Charlie said.
Miss Dimple shook her head. “I’ve thought about that, but I don’t believe she did. When Rebecca helped us out of that burning shed I noticed some tools tossed aside on the grass that hadn’t been there before—the kind of tools one might use to repair a barbed-wire fence.”
“That’s right,” Charlie said. “I remember her saying something about finding it broken and going down in the pasture to mend it.”
“That doesn’t mean she didn’t lock us in and start the fire,” Annie pointed out. “She might’ve been there all the time … watching us … waiting.”
“Then why would she have fence-mending tools with her?” Miss Dimple asked. “I think she must have dropped them there in order to run to the barrel for water.” She raised her voice as she stood in the door of the hallway. “And I believe she’s afraid for her life.
“Suzy, I urge you to come with us now. It’s not safe to remain here any longer.” Dimple turned and started for the door.
“We can’t get out of here soon enough for me!” Annie said.
“O
r me!” Charlie echoed. “Suzy?” She paused to look over her shoulder. And Suzy folded the blanket she’d been wearing, laid it over the back of the sofa, and silently followed the others.
The four of them filed through the kitchen and had almost reached the back door when someone called, “Wait!” and they turned to see Rebecca Wyatt behind them.
She stood trembling in the open door to the hallway, hugging herself for warmth. “Please, I’d like to come with you. I can’t stay here any longer.”
Suzy quickly snatched the blanket she’d just shed and wrapped it around Rebecca. “We have to get something warm in her now!” she said, seeming her confident self once again. “Her lips are turning blue. There should be enough fuel in that stove to heat a kettle of water.”
Minutes later they hovered around the kitchen table as Rebecca, her color slowly returning, sipped from a large mug of tea. “I want you to know I had nothing to do with setting fire to that shed,” she told them when her chattering subsided. “I’m just glad I got back in time to see the smoke.”
“So are we!” Charlie told her. “But you know who did it, don’t you, Rebecca?”
Rebecca twined thin fingers around the mug and took a long, slow swallow. It seemed she was about to answer when the yellow glare of headlights suddenly illuminated the room.
Annie ran to the window. “Oh, my gosh! Somebody’s here. What are we going to do?”
“Can you tell who it is?” Miss Dimple asked.
Charlie frowned as she joined her friend at the window. “It looks like … it is! It’s Esau and Coralee. We have to get Suzy out of sight!”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the basement,” Miss Dimple directed. “Quickly, before they see you!” She glanced at Rebecca, who jumped to her feet, shoving her mug aside. “I’ll go with her,” Rebecca said. “We can leave by the outside door. There’s a shortcut to my place.”
“I remember.” Suzy nodded, following her. “Here! Don’t forget your shawl,” she reminded her, plucking it from the chair on the way out.
“What are we going to tell the Ingrams?” Annie asked Miss Dimple as they heard the basement door close behind them and the sound of feet descending the stairs.
“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something,” Dimple’s voice was calm, but Annie noticed a flicker of alarm in her eyes.
* * *
“Coralee thought she heard a car.” Esau Ingram stood in the open kitchen doorway, the light from his headlights glinting off the barrel of the shotgun in his hands. “What are you doing here?”
Dimple Kilpatrick sank sighing onto a chair at the kitchen table and rested her head in her hands. “I’m so terribly sorry about this, Mr. Ingram, but you’re aware, I know, of what happened to us at Rebecca Wyatt’s a few days ago.” Her voice trembled as she searched for a handkerchief and, finding it, dabbed at her eyes. Behind her, Charlie and Annie exchanged glances and wondered what trick the older teacher would come up with now.
Esau lowered his gun but stood his ground. “Just how did you manage to get in?” he demanded. “And for God’s sake, woman, why?”
Miss Dimple stiffened. She was not accustomed to hearing someone take the Lord’s name in vain, but it gave her time to think. “Why, we came through the basement. That door was unlocked, you know, and I thought we might find Rebecca Wyatt here. She hasn’t been seen since that unfortunate incident when the three of us were almost incinerated.” Miss Dimple allowed her voice to shake a little as she explained further. “I thought perhaps she might have come here.”
Esau tilted his head and frowned. “I don’t understand,” he began. “Why—”
Dimple straightened and looked him full in the face. “Why? Because the woman’s terrified, Mr. Ingram. She’s afraid for her life—just as the three of us were when someone locked us in and set fire to that shed.” Dimple Kilpatrick would never look or speak to a child in the manner she addressed Esau Ingram. She was either challenging the man or calling him a fool. Possibly both. Charlie took a deep breath and edged closer to Annie.
Esau leaned the gun against the wall and took a step forward. “Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with that? And everybody knows Rebecca’s a bit … well … addled. There’s no telling where she might be. Why, she’s probably holed up in her house until all this excitement dies down. As far as I know, the Fuller boy’s still taking care of her livestock.”
“Esau? What’s going on here?” Coralee Ingram stood in the doorway behind her husband and took in the scene, looking as if she had just come upon Hirohito himself.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” her husband told her with a weary sigh. “These ladies seem to think they’d find Rebecca Wyatt here, although why they’d want her, I don’t know. If I was you,” he added, addressing Miss Dimple, “I’d steer clear of that one.”
Coralee didn’t answer and Charlie got the idea the woman might not agree with her husband. “Look, I’m sorry if we alarmed you,” Charlie said, speaking directly to Coralee, “but we’re worried about Rebecca. The police haven’t been able to find her, and we’re afraid she might be in danger.”
“Do you still think she might be here?” Coralee asked, stepping inside.
“If she was, she’s gone now,” Annie said, hoping the woman wouldn’t notice Rebecca’s empty mug on the table. “We’ve checked every room.”
“We’ll have another look at any rate,” Esau said, making his way into the room. “And I don’t reckon you all meant any harm, but if I was you, I’d stay away from other folks’ property, especially when nobody’s home.”
“We certainly will, thank you, and again, we apologize for any distress we might’ve caused you.” Miss Dimple spoke primly, as if she had only stepped on somebody’s foot or accidentally bumped into a person on the street. The three of them walked sedately to the car and didn’t speak until they had reached the bottom of the hill.
“Whew!” Annie sighed. “What do you think he meant by that?”
“By what?” Charlie slowed to maneuver a curve in the narrow road.
“That comment about staying away when nobody’s at home. Do you think he knows we’ve been poking about the outbuildings around here?”
“I don’t doubt that he does for a minute,” Dimple said. “I’d just like to find out what else he might know.”
“I hope Suzy and Rebecca have had time to get to Rebecca’s place.” Charlie turned the car in that direction and groaned, remembering the terrible condition of the woman’s driveway. “I’ll park the car on the side of the road, and Miss Dimple, you can wait there while Annie and I walk up to the house to get the others. There’s no need for all of us sliding around in the dark.”
Dimple Kilpatrick only laughed. “Oh come now, surely you don’t think I’m going to let you two have all the excitement. Of course I’m going with you!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lottie Nivens had looked at the big magnolia tree on the Sullivans’ lawn every morning when she walked to school and again when she took her noon meal with Phoebe Chadwick across the street. She noticed the tree when she walked to town or to church and passed it again on her return.
“Do you remember who used to live in the Sullivans’ house on the corner?” she asked Bessie Jenkins at breakfast one morning. It was the day after Christmas and the two had skipped church after sleeping later than usual and were enjoying a leisurely breakfast of fresh oranges, coffee, and applesauce muffins hot from the oven. Lottie’s aunt Agnes, who had raised her, had seldom allowed her to help with the cooking and she was slowly learning her way around a kitchen. Wouldn’t Hal be surprised when he came home after the war?
Bessie broke open a muffin and added a dab of margarine, smiling as she inhaled the spicy fragrance. “The Overtons lived there for a good while until he took a job in Atlanta, I believe, and they sold the place to the Sullivans.” Bessie washed down her first bite of muffin with coffee. “I do believe these are even better than the ones you baked before, L
ottie.”
“But before the Overtons?” Lottie persisted. “Who lived there then?”
Bessie frowned. “Oh, goodness! Let me see … that must’ve been the Greesons—Jesse Dean’s folks. Such a tragedy that was! The whole town was just torn up by it!”
“By what?” Lottie picked up her muffin and put it down again. Suddenly she wasn’t so hungry.
“Jesse Dean’s older sister, little Cassie, disappeared during a picnic that summer and we never did know what happened to her. Some say she drowned in Etowah Pond, but most believe she was kidnapped. Jesse Dean was born a few months later and his mama—Eugenia—well, she didn’t live long after that.”
“What about the father?”
“Sanford? He left here after Jesse Dean was born and nobody ever saw him again. Something happened to Sanford over there during the war and he just never seemed right when he got back. Old Addie Montgomery, Jesse Dean’s grandmamma, raised him. Tried to turn him into a girl—to replace the one who was lost, I guess. She was a strange one, Addie was. It’s a wonder he’s turned out so well.”
* * *
The china tea set was white with pink and blue flowers and a green border. It had been a present from Santa and she was not supposed to play with it outside. But her mama never looked under the sweeping limbs of the big magnolia and no one could see her there. She only took enough plates and cups for the two of them, and in her secret place under the big tree she served dark mud pies decorated with the glossy red seeds from the tree. Only her rag doll, Lucy, was invited to feast off the dainty flowered china. That day, however, the person she knew as Mama called to her in a hurry to go somewhere. The summer afternoon was sweltering and her mama was cross, but it was cool under the tree and Lottie didn’t want to leave. I’ll come back tomorrow, she thought, and she left the tiny dishes hidden away in her secret place in the roots of the big magnolia.
* * *
How do you ask someone for permission to dig underneath their tree? Lottie Nivens couldn’t think of a suitable explanation and so she waited until she saw Clarissa Sullivan start for town the next day, wheeling her baby wrapped like a blue cocoon in his carriage.
Miss Dimple Suspects: A Mystery Page 21