Bailey stopped. “That’s terrible. I didn’t know Creed that well, but he didn’t seem like a man who would abuse a woman.”
Cathy shrugged. “It was probably mutual abuse. She wasn’t particularly pleasant when she drank. Not that I condone such violence.”
“Is it common on Tawes?”
“No, no more than anywhere else, I suppose. No, less, I’d say. People generally look out for their neighbors here. If a man hit his wife or if he abused his children, it wouldn’t sit well with people. Forest McCready or Matthew Catlin would have a talk with him.”
“But they didn’t with Creed?”
“They tried. From what I hear, they tried more than once. But Ida was as bad as Creed. It was the drink. When he wasn’t drunk, you couldn’t ask for a nicer man. He’d help anyone in trouble.”
“But the body might not be Ida’s,” Bailey suggested.
“Maybe not, but it looks bad. Ida’s been missing since yesterday. She went to Emma’s for the birthday party, but never came home after. Amy heard Ida’s cats meowing yesterday morning. Their food and water dishes were empty. And that’s not like Ida.”
“How awful, but I don’t see what—”
“First coffee and then I’ll beg,” Cathy said. “It’s complicated.”
“First your problem and then coffee.”
“All right, but I really wanted to soften you up first.” She pointed to a Dutch gambrel with a basket of orange begonias on the doorstep. “Here we are. It’s small, but it’s all ours.”
“It’s charming. I love the blue door and shutters.”
Cathy led the way through a sunny living room into a country kitchen. The table was already set with two cups, a cream pitcher, and a plate of cookies. “Party leftovers.”
Over coffee, Cathy explained that it was Ida who’d assisted at the summer-school program. “If I can’t find a replacement, I’ll have to cancel classes, and some of these kids will be left high and dry. It’s only a few weeks, and—”
“Aren’t you rushing things?” Bailey asked. “You don’t know for certain that Ida . . . that she was killed in the fire. She could be anywhere.”
Cathy stirred cream into her coffee. “She could be, but she’s never left her cats shut in the house without food before. She adores them. Calls them her babies. Usually, no matter how much she’s had to drink, she comes staggering home, puts medicated powder on the tom’s bald spot, and lets them out to potty. She’s been gone a day and a half now. It doesn’t look good.”
“It just gets worse and worse, doesn’t it?” Bailey toyed with the handle of her coffee mug. “I’d like to help you—if Ida doesn’t show up, I mean. But I really wasn’t planning on being on Tawes that long. Forest McCready said—”
“Don’t say no yet. You’re my only hope if we’ve lost Ida.”
“But I’m not certified to teach in Maryland,” Bailey protested, putting down the chocolate-chip cookie without tasting it. “I couldn’t—”
“Ida wasn’t either. She was officially my assistant, and there’s no reason why you couldn’t fill the bill.” She rubbed her protruding belly. “Down, boys. He’s so wiggly in there, it must be twins.”
“Could be a girl.”
“I doubt it. Not unless she’s going to be a football player or a wrestler.” Cathy leaned forward. “I know it’s a lot to ask. The job doesn’t pay at all.”
“The money doesn’t bother me. It’s just that I—”
“Please, just consider what I have to say.” She took a big breath and rushed on. “Listen, I know you need somebody to do the repairs on Elizabeth’s house. And I know you asked Daniel and he turned you down.”
“How . . .” Bailey began, and then she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “I know. Nothing on Tawes is a secret.”
“Not for more than twenty minutes, anyway. But my point is, you need somebody on the island. If you hire a mainlander, you’ll have to wait forever, and it’ll cost you three times what the job is worth. You know Daniel is good at what he does, and he works cheap.”
“You’re forgetting that he’s already said no.”
“And you’re forgetting that everybody on Tawes is kin. My husband happened to come home for a late lunch, and I happened to mention that Ida is missing.”
“To make a long story short?”
“My Jim is Daniel’s first cousin and best buddy. If you’ll help me out with the kids, just for a few weeks, then he’ll get Daniel to do your carpentry work at a reasonable price.”
“You think?”
“Consider it a done deal,” Cathy assured her. “Scout’s honor. Daniel owes us a favor, and we’ll call it in. Pretty please, Bailey. Just think about it. It’s a great deal.”
Bailey sighed. “I hope that Ida is fine and will show up with an explanation of where she’s been, but if she doesn’t . . .”
“If the worst has happened?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Good. Be at the school tomorrow morning at eight.”
“And if Ida’s there?”
“If she is, we’ll kiss her on both cheeks, and I’ll find something to keep you busy for the day. I never let potential volunteers escape.”
“Now you sound like Emma.”
Cathy chuckled. “I couldn’t find a better teacher, could I?”
CHAPTER TEN
My nerves were still on edge Monday morning after the authorities had verified that there had been a second fire victim. And I wasn’t alone. Most people on Tawes were upset. I don’t believe they’d been this fussed when the senator turned up dead.
When I become anxious, I need to be alone. I took the boat out two miles, cut the engine, and just let it drift. I do my best thinking out here with nothing but the sky and water and a few seabirds to distract me. Here, I can remember how things used to be, the wrongs that were done to me, and why I couldn’t let it continue.
I’m assuming that the remains of the bodies were removed by the medical examiner for further study, but I doubt anything more will come of it. After all, how many accidental fires are there in Maryland in a year? And if there’s enough bone left to show ax cuts, they might suppose that it was a murder-suicide. I can’t imagine that there will be much fuss over two dead drunks. It was common knowledge that Creed once served seven months in jail for smashing a chair over Tom Caulk’s head in Tee’s Bar in Crisfield.
My regrets weren’t for the deceased. They brought death on themselves as much as Beth or Elizabeth. Creed couldn’t let go of the past, and a fool and his life are soon parted. Isn’t that the way the old saying goes? If it doesn’t, it should. I’m not sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I didn’t act sooner. One little, two little, three little Indians. . . . And then there were none.
It has to be that way. I’ve been negligent in not cleaning up the remnants of that old mess a long time ago. If Creed couldn’t be trusted to hold his tongue, the others can’t either. And there are those who must be protected at any cost.
I dip my hand in the water and find it warmer than it was a week ago. I wonder if this will be another bad season for the watermen. Most people seem to think the old ways are dying, and I suppose they are . . . one by one.
All but self-preservation.
Daniel was absent at breakfast that morning as Emma, red-eyed from weeping, served Bailey pecan pancakes, hot coffee, extra-crisp bacon, and scrambled eggs. “Hardly enough of him left for a decent burial.” She sniffed. “Ida’s still not shown hide nor hair of herself. For my money, she died in that house along with poor Creed. No telling when the state will hand over what’s left of him.” She poured glasses of tomato juice for the two of them. “Unless you’d rather have apple?”
Bailey shook her head. “This is fine.”
Emma glanced at the wall clock. “Lord, girl, it’s quarter to eight. You’d best hurry or you’ll be late for your first day of school.”
“Ida may be there. I may not have to—”
“Sure, she will. And my
hens will lay golden eggs. Get on down there, Bailey. Cathy and those kids need you.”
At eight o’clock sharp that morning, Bailey arrived at the school to find that Ida was still missing and now presumed, by many on the island, to be the second body in Creed’s house. Cathy and Amy were in the library, where a group of excited students were checking out books.
“Quiet! Quiet, everyone,” Cathy ordered. “This is Miss Elliott. She’s visiting our school this morning, and I’d like her to get a good impression. Well?”
“Good morning, Miss Elliott,” came a weak response from a half dozen kids. “Good morning,” echoed from three middle schoolers near the windows.
“Mornin’, ma’am,” said a handsome dark-skinned boy shyly.
“Hi!” Two identical towhead first graders wearing green shorts and orange T-shirts giggled and hid their faces in their hands.
A chubby boy about eight years old with a buzz cut stared at her so hard that he bumped into the twins and dropped the stack of library books he was carrying to the desk. The children around him laughed, but another boy helped gather up the books. An older girl whispered to a friend, and Bailey heard the name Tawes.
“Not even half of the kids came to class this morning,” Cathy confided. With her hair pulled into a ponytail and no makeup, she reminded Bailey of a pregnant Reese Witherspoon. “And those that did,” she continued, “are too upset to settle down. Someone’s started a rumor that Creed and Ida were murdered and that a killer’s running loose on the island. I think I’ll give everyone reading assignments and send them home.”
“That’s probably best,” Bailey agreed, “but I’ll admit, I was looking forward to getting to know some of them.”
Cathy motioned her aside and lowered her voice. “Poor Ida. She had a wicked tongue, she rarely told the truth about anything, and she was a malicious gossip, but she surely didn’t deserve to go that way.”
“If she had all those faults, why did Forest McCready employ her?”
“Because they were second cousins, and because Ida wouldn’t have had enough to live on if it wasn’t for her salary from his office.”
“But she taught here on Tawes?”
Cathy shook her head. “Ida was an unpaid volunteer. She never got a penny for her work with the children, and she never lost her patience with them, especially with the kids who struggled academically.” She held up her index finger and stepped between a gum-chewing girl in a denim skirt and a mischievous-looking red-haired boy, about eleven, who would have made a perfect Tom Sawyer in any theater production. “Jason? Let me see that book.”
He tucked the oversize picture book behind his back.
“Give!”
Jason sighed heavily and passed her the offending volume.
Cathy opened it and glanced at the contents. “I don’t think so. This is a little too easy for you. If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll show you a book on sharks that just came in. Reading little kids’ books won’t help you score higher on your test.”
She re-joined Bailey. “That’s Jason Somers. Yes, some relation to Creed, but not close enough to matter. He’s an excellent student at math, but he’s lazy when it comes to reading. Jason’s a good kid, but full of it. You have to keep an eye on him. He’s the one who put tadpoles in the library aquarium, live crabs in my desk drawer, and crazy glue in Ida’s chair all in one day last week.”
“Ouch, Poor Ida. Did she—”
“Yep, she did. Sat in it and glued her new black slacks to the chair. Of course, they were ruined. I had to run home and get her another pair so she could be seen in public.”
“What did she do to Jason?”
“Talked to him. Told him he’d have to spend four hours weeding her garden, but she wouldn’t let me punish him. And she didn’t tell him that she only had two pairs of slacks to wear to school.”
“I’m sorry I never got to meet her. Someone said she was at Emma’s, but there were so many people. . . .”
“I know. And chances are she would have been hiding in the dark, sipping from a flask. She had an old tin one that had belonged to her father.” Cathy shook her head. “I don’t know what we’ll do when I go out on maternity leave. Try to get someone over from the mainland, I suppose. There are other teachers when school starts in the fall, but Amy has the baby, and two others are working elsewhere for the summer.”
“My classes start after Labor Day. And I have to be home in time to—”
“I realize that. Summer school only lasts—Billy, no pushing!—until the middle of August. Sorry. As I said, they’re out of sorts today.” She hugged her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Bailey. I feel so bad for Ida. She had a good heart, even if she was rough on the outside. She used to bake cakes for kids’ birthdays, and every fall she organized a coat and boot trade for the school. She and Forest would contact manufacturers and get donations of outerwear seconds, so that every child on Tawes would be warm and dry walking to school. I guess Forest will be on his own this year.”
“I wish the public schools would do more of that. Too many children don’t have proper clothes and shoes. It doesn’t seem right, in America.”
“I know. I saw it all the time back on the Eastern Shore.” Cathy smiled. “Tawes is a lot like Ida—rough around the edges, but with a good heart. We try to take care of all of our kids. They may not have the iPods and latest games for Xbox and PlayStation, but we provide free hot lunches, school supplies, and one of the best libraries around. Most of all, we like to think we treat them as we would our own family.”
“It sounds good to me. And as happy as I’d be to have Daniel do my repairs, I probably could have been talked into helping without the bribe. I’m a sucker for a sob story that involves children.”
“Good. That’s what we need—innocents who know how to teach. Just be certain you check your chair before you sit down, and don’t be surprised to find a live snake in your raincoat pocket. Jason’s not the only jokester among us. And as a mainlander, I’m afraid you’ll be fair game.”
“You didn’t warn me about that,” Bailey teased.
“Ooops.” Cathy giggled. “Oversight on my part. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see a young man about a shark.”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Absolutely. Be here or I’ll send Jason looking for you.”
Amy followed them out of the library. “I’d better be getting home. Maria’s watching Joel, and I told her that I’d only be gone an hour.”
“Go ahead, you two,” Cathy said. “I’ve got to close the windows in my classroom.”
“See you tomorrow.” Bailey smiled at her and caught up with Amy. “Are you coming back to teaching in the fall?”
“No, not until after Christmas. I want to stay with him a little longer. My mother-in-law and Maria will take turns babysitting, but it’s still hard to leave.”
“I’m in awe of working mothers.”
Amy hesitated, then touched her arm. “I heard—never mind how—but I was told that you wanted to see your christening records at the church.”
“Yes.” Bailey waited. Apparently, everything she’d done or said since she’d gotten to Tawes was public knowledge. “I want to learn everything I can about Beth Tawes. It’s funny: I’ve always thought of her as a woman. Now I’m twice as old as she was when she died.”
“Sometimes . . .” Amy looked uncomfortable. She took a breath and blurted out, “Don’t poke around into the past. You’ll only be hurt, and you seem like a nice person.”
“Why? How could I be hurt? Do you know something?”
Amy shrugged. “Only what I’ve heard, but . . .”
“You do know something about my mother. Do you know who my father is?”
“Forget it.” Amy took a few steps away from her. “I’m sorry; it’s none of my business, really. You can’t believe gossip. People say all kinds of things.”
“What do they say?”
“That you’re . . . That Will Tawes is crazy. Th
at there was some scandal with him and Beth. That—”
“Hey.” Cathy pushed through the outer door and came out onto the step. “What am I missing? It looks serious.”
“Nothing,” Amy said. “See you tomorrow.”
“What else?” Bailey demanded.
Amy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I never know when to keep my mouth shut.” Giving Cathy a strange look, she hurried away.
“What was all that about?” Cathy asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bailey said. “She said something about my mother and a scandal. Do you know anything about it?”
“If I did, I’d tell you. You forget, I’m a mainlander too. Don’t let it upset you. Beth Tawes was a young girl who had a baby without having a husband. I guess that’s all it took to make the gossip list back then. And dying tragically the way she did, I guess it just makes the gossip juicier.”
Moisture gathered in Bailey’s eyes, and she blinked it away. “Did you know . . . Do you know your grandparents?”
“Me?” Cathy’s eyes narrowed. “Sure. They’re all still alive. My Dad’s parents, Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop Miller, live on a farm across the road from the house I grew up in. My mother’s family lives in Federalsburg. Why?”
“I never had that. I had a good mother and father. But no one else. No brothers or sisters, cousins, no grandparents, aunts or uncles. At least none that anyone had ever told me about. I was always closer to Mom; then after she died, Dad remarried. . . .” She swallowed, trying to dissolve the constriction in her throat. “I just have this need to know about them. And here on Tawes, I haven’t gotten the answers. I’ve only got more questions.”
“You want to know about your mother—about Beth—even if what you find out isn’t—”
“Knowing would be better than imagining the worst. Can you understand that?”
Cathy nodded. “Sure, I can. I had a beagle puppy when I was five. She got hit by a car and killed, but my parents didn’t want to hurt me by telling me the truth, so they said she’d run away. I kept looking for her . . . calling her name. I used to pray every night that I’d wake up in the morning and find Cricket in the kitchen in her bed. Finally, Pop Allan, my mom’s father, told me the truth, and he showed me where Cricket was buried behind the barn. I cried, but I put flowers on her grave, and I felt better. . . . Like you said . . . knowing.”
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