“I was just thinking about you as I entered the press. It’d be lovely if the two of you would join Mrs. Cooper and myself for tea this afternoon,” she announced sweetly. “If you want to catch up on local gossip, we’ve got some for you.”
“Oh, that sounds terrific, Mrs. Randall,” Trisha announced. “If you’re sure Mrs. Cooper won’t mind.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Randall boldly stated. “Mrs. Cooper loves visitors for tea. Why just the other day we had Mrs. Lamont over. She told us a fascinating story about a fight that broke out at Sam’s Tavern on Friday night. Even my Billy won’t tell me when something exciting happens there.” She frowned. “I have to hear about it from others.”
They walked to Mrs. Cooper’s house while Mrs. Randall told them everything they never wanted to know about Mrs. Lamont, sparing few details.
“Well,” Mrs. Randall gasped dramatically as they walked onto the porch. “When I found out she’d had an affair with a priest, I nearly went through the floor. They’re supposed to be above physical pleasure. Not to mention what Mrs. Lamont must have been thinking. She’s a married woman.” She cried out dramatically. “Her husband comes and goes so often with his truck driving job. Though I don’t doubt that he’s getting a little on the side as well. You know how those men are.”
Mrs. Randall paused before the door, knocked once, then opened the door and entered. “Hello, Ester? It’s me. I brought some friends for tea.”
Mrs. Cooper approached from the kitchen while wiping her hands on her apron as her smile broadened. “Oh, Trisha and Sidney. What a lovely surprise!”
They were ushered into the formal living room with its old, Victorian furniture and tacky carpeting with large, printed shapes. Tea was wheeled into the room on a decorative cart by Mrs. Cooper. Trisha attempted to help, but Mrs. Cooper wouldn’t hear of it. Mrs. Cooper was an extremely independent woman. She boasted about her health and how she had been better since they had removed the cyst from under her arm. Sidney and Trisha sat in complete silence while the two women sipped tea and talked about nearly everyone in town. Sidney never heard so much gossip in her entire life. They had to fake interest before they could enter with their own gossip and get the old women started.
“I also heard from a very reliable source,” Mrs. Randall started the new topic with her usual line, “that Mrs. Peters’ granddaughter is pregnant.”
Mrs. Cooper exaggerated a gasp. “I always knew she’d be pregnant before she was eighteen. Who’s the father?”
“You’ll never guess,” Mrs. Randall announced while raising her thin, gray brows.
Sidney wasn’t going to last through much more. She nervously began to tap her cup until Trisha nudged her.
“Who?”
“The Shetler boy,” Mrs. Randall replied with a brilliant smile.
“No,” Mrs. Cooper gasped. “He was dating some colored girl from the city.”
“No, no, dear. They broke up because her father didn’t approve,” Mrs. Randall said.
“Really? How did I miss that one?” Mrs. Cooper asked.
When Mrs. Cooper brought a notebook out from under the sofa cushion, Sidney thought she’d drop her teacup. Trisha looked away and fought her laughter. Mrs. Cooper jotted something in her little book then replaced it. Sidney set her teacup on a coaster on the end table and gently cleared her throat, creating her own opportunity to end her torture.
“I heard the most interesting story about Paul Malcolm,” Sidney announced.
Both older women looked at Sidney with great interest. “Paul Malcolm? What have you heard?” Mrs. Cooper eagerly asked as her eyes widened with glee.
“He was having an affair with Emily Fisher just before she was killed,” Sidney remarked, hoping to spark an interest in the conversation about the murder. Trisha would need to help keep the conversation going.
Both women waved their hands. “Oh, that’s old news. Mrs. Malcolm told us that one right after she’d left him,” Mrs. Cooper said simply. “Emily was fairly easy, from what I’ve heard. That’s why her boyfriend killed her. He was enraged with jealousy.”
Mrs. Randall turned to Mrs. Cooper. “Did you hear that Paul was at Sam’s again Saturday night? I heard he was so drunk that he had to sleep on the floor.”
“I also heard Emily had been seeing that photographer from the press,” Mrs. Cooper added.
“He left only a week after the murder,” Trisha prompted.
“No one really ever knew why he’d left,” Mrs. Cooper remarked and leaned back on the sofa.
“Some speculate he was indirectly involved in her death,” Mrs. Randall said firmly. “Why else would he just up and leave?”
Mrs. Cooper shook her head. “I don’t believe that for a moment. I think he was heartbroken, and that’s why he left.”
“He was always such a womanizer, that one,” Mrs. Randall remarked simply. “Sam said he saw Emily crawling all over him one evening. It was nearly pornographic.”
Mrs. Cooper nodded her head vigorously as if either of them had actually been there and saw it.
Sidney shifted uncomfortably. “That entire day is just a blur to me,” she said simply while prompting the conversation along. “What do either of you remember about the day Emily Fisher was murdered?”
“The only thing I remember,” Mrs. Randall responded promptly, “was seeing Emily enter the woods. About twenty minutes later, that horny photographer passed my house in the same direction. I remember it very well because I was thinking they were probably going to meet somewhere and do the dirty deed.”
“I remember seeing him walk past my house, but I can’t say I saw Emily that day. Obviously, she’d been past,” Mrs. Cooper replied.
“I took Billy to the mall for some new sneakers. His were all worn,” Mrs. Randall announced simply. “The mall was crowded that day because of the approaching storm I suppose.” She tilted her gray head and appeared curious. “Why do you suppose people like to shop in the rain?”
“Something to do,” Mrs. Cooper replied. “No one wants to sit home on a dreary day. Although, I hate walking with packages in the rain.” Mrs. Cooper raised a thin, gray brow. “But it didn’t rain that day, dear. I was grocery shopping. I wouldn’t have gone if there was a chance of rain.”
“Of course, you’re right,” Mrs. Randall said after only a moment of reflecting. “But speaking of malls, I saw Persha Palmer at the mall yesterday.”
“Persha?” Mrs. Cooper asked with a sly smile and raised her brows knowingly. “Was her girlfriend with her?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Randall replied with a tiny laugh.
Trisha bolted forward. “Persha Palmer? The schoolteacher?”
Both women looked at her and nodded knowingly. “After all these years, we finally know why she’d never married. They moved in together just last week,” Mrs. Cooper whispered and slyly pointed toward the woods. “Right next door. They have that tacky, pink flamingo mailbox.”
Trisha slowly sat back in her chair. “Well, I’ll be--”
Sidney rolled her eyes and nudged Trisha. “I think it’s time we took our leave,” she said simply and stood.
She’d had enough gossip for one day. Trisha took her cue and stood as well.
“Thanks for the tea,” Trisha said.
“Anytime,” Mrs. Cooper announced.
They showed themselves to the door. It was a little after five o’clock already and the entire afternoon was wasted on idle gossip that told them little more than Ms. Palmer was a lesbian. Sidney opened the door and saw Billy on the other side about to open it himself. He smiled with enthusiasm when he saw them and paused in the doorway.
“What an unexpected surprise,” he announced warmly. “What brings two young women to the old henhouse?”
Sidney laughed softly. “Just some tea,” she replied.
“I guess I won’t have to call you now,” Billy said simply. “Denny is excited about the four of us going out. How does tonight sound? There’s this really grea
t Italian restaurant just off the interstate. After dinner, we could go to Sam’s for some dancing in his new club. You do like to dance?”
Trisha looked at Sidney with some confusion.
Sidney continued to smile and ignored the look she’d received. “That sounds great, Billy. Why don’t you pick us up at Trisha’s house?”
“How does seven o’clock sound?” he suggested. “That’ll give me just enough time to tear Grandma away from Mrs. Cooper, make reservations, and shower.”
Sidney nodded. “That’s fine. We’ll see you and Denny then.” She slipped out the door and pulled Trisha behind her.
“I don’t want to go on a double date with Denny,” Trisha protested just out of earshot and turned to face Sidney.
“It’ll give us an opportunity to question some of the regulars at Sam’s,” Sidney said simply. “I’d also like to talk to Billy about Mr. Malcolm.”
Trisha muttered under her breath. “I don’t like this, Sidney. I never liked Denny, and I’ve outgrown Billy Randall.”
“I’m not asking you to marry either of them,” Sidney remarked. “It’s just a couple of hours. You may even enjoy yourself.”
“I doubt it,” Trisha muttered under her breath. She then sighed. “But I suppose you won’t let me out of it.”
Chapter Twenty
Billy and Denny arrived a few minutes after seven o’clock that evening in Billy’s brand new sports car. Trisha was still complaining about being forced on a date with Denny, but she put on a false smile when they arrived at the door. The restaurant was rather expensive, though the dress was casual. They had a great meal with a bottle of moderately expensive wine. Sidney didn’t like wine, but she drank it anyway. The dinner conversation was mostly about their current careers, leaving Trisha silent for nearly half an hour.
After dinner, they went to Sam’s and found a table in the club portion of the tavern. There weren’t many people at the club that particular evening. Most of the crowd came on a Friday and Saturday night. Sidney had noticed Mr. Malcolm was at the bar in the tavern area. Billy and Denny went to the bar for their drinks, leaving Sidney and Trisha alone for the first time all evening. Trisha played with the ashtray on the table without saying a word.
“Are you okay? We won’t stay long if you don’t want to,” Sidney said gently.
“I’ll survive,” she said softly.
The guys returned with their drinks and joined them at the table. “Bill tells me you’ve been gone for five years, Sidney. Why’d you stay away so long?” Denny asked, seeming curious.
“Too many bad memories,” she replied with a faint smile and studied Denny. He was a fairly attractive man with dark brown, almost black hair, small eyes, and a cleft in his chin.
Denny’s eyes then widened with realization. “Oh, that’s right. You were with Trisha when she found Miss Fisher. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“It was quite traumatic,” Sidney informed him simply and shifted uncomfortably.
“I can’t blame you for wanting to stay away,” Denny said simply.
Sidney then cocked her head to one side and raised her brows. “You were a senior at the time, weren’t you? What did you think about the murder?”
“Naturally we were all shocked,” Denny replied. “The entire football team adored Miss Fisher.”
“She was the best teacher,” Billy said while leaning forward. “If you ask me, they should have strung Alex Trexler up by his--” Billy appeared tense and sat back. “Sorry.”
“There were all sorts of stories surrounding her death,” Denny continued. “But I didn’t buy into them.”
“What sort of stories?” Sidney asked with great interest.
“You know,” Denny began. “That Mr. Malcolm killed her. Even rumors about that photographer from your father’s press. But the evidence against Alex was overwhelming.”
Trisha suddenly straightened in her chair. “The murder weapon was never found,” she stated firmly. “The entire case is based on circumstances and our eyewitness accounts of Alex being at the murder scene. Just because he was there, that doesn’t necessarily mean he did it.”
“She was raped,” Denny snapped and leaned halfway across the table toward Trisha then pounded the table with his finger. “It was conclusive that Alex raped her.”
“No,” Trisha hissed with irritation. “It was never proven she was raped just that they had been together, which he admitted they had.”
“Sure, Trisha,” Denny snorted and gave her an irritated look. “If I held a knife to your throat and threatened to kill you, you wouldn’t struggle either.”
“I’d fight you to the death,” Trisha snapped.
“Okay, kids,” Billy announced firmly. “Let’s just give it a rest. What’s done is done. I’m sure the evidence spoke for itself. Can we just enjoy this evening?”
Trisha looked back at the ashtray with narrow, evil eyes. Denny leaned back in his chair and glared at Billy.
“Maybe Trisha and I should go home,” Sidney said softly, feeling the tension.
Denny lifted his eyes in gesture to Billy. He was obviously onboard with the idea.
Billy sighed and reluctantly nodded. “I’ll give you and Trisha a ride home.”
Sidney stood and offered a timid smile. “Thanks anyway, but I think we’ll walk.”
Trisha sprang to her feet with a sigh of relief.
“Just one dance?” Billy asked charmingly and extended his hand to Sidney.
Sidney politely nodded. Trisha frowned and fell back into the chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and sneered at Denny. Billy took Sidney to the dance floor where they danced to the slow song with a little space between them.
“I’m really sorry, Billy,” Sidney remarked. “I didn’t think she’d react like this.”
“It’s okay, Sidney. I know how Trisha has been since the murder,” he replied. “I had hoped the subject wouldn’t come up. I honestly didn’t think Denny would mention it. Guess I shouldn’t have given him any credit for intelligence.”
Sidney groaned softly and looked over Billy’s shoulder while they danced. “It’s just killing her, I can see it, but I don’t know what I can do.”
“You can’t save her if she doesn’t want to be saved,” he replied gently.
Sidney met his gaze and stared into his eyes. She couldn’t deny he was quite handsome and understood why Trisha had a crush on him all those years ago.
“I just wish I could believe she’s completely wrong about the murder,” Sidney remarked.
Billy stared at her with some confusion. “You don’t think Alex did it?”
“I don’t know what I think anymore,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’m getting so disoriented about the whole thing. There are too many stories, but none of them seem to match.”
“There was a time I believed that photographer may have had some involvement. I mean with the way he ran off as soon as the dust had settled. It was just odd.”
“I don’t understand the reason behind that thinking,” she announced. “I’d like to think I knew him better than anyone else in this entire town, and I’m sure he didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her.”
Billy shook his head as his eyes narrowed. “You were just fifteen. You couldn’t possibly see him for what he was,” he informed her. “He was a nasty son-of-a-bitch to me, but I’m sure you didn’t know that.”
Sidney was taken aback by the comment. “Did something happen between the two of you?”
“I don’t want to upset you because I know how close you were at one time, but he had it out for me,” Billy informed her. “He’d give me dirty looks all the time when Denny and I passed the press. Then there was the evening we ran into him as he was coming out of Sam’s. He was drunk and smelled of whiskey. He said several obscene things to this girl we were with. Naturally, I stepped in and told him to leave her alone. He got mad and hit me. I tackled him to the ground,” Billy said then grinned. “It was a great tackle--” He then c
leared his throat, knowing he had gotten off subject. “I guess I knocked him out or he passed out because he was so wasted. That was it. Then we left.”
“He hit you?” Sidney asked with some disbelief.
“He most certainly did,” Billy said with a slight groan. “Right in the face. Lucky for me he was intoxicated and didn’t swing very hard.”
“Why do you think he’d want to kill Miss Fisher?” she asked boldly.
“I think he wanted her and she wanted no part of him. He did follow her into the woods that day. My grandmother saw him,” Billy admitted. “I’d love to know what happened in the woods. I mean, what could he really photograph in there? A couple of trees and a rundown house?”
Sidney held her breath a moment and remembered the pictures Harlan had taken that day. They were rather good. The quality of the pictures told her he had taken his time when he took them.
“So what was between you and him anyway?” Billy asked, taking Sidney off her guard.
She stared at him a moment and felt her cheeks redden. “Nothing that I was aware,” she replied. “I mean, he worked for my father at the press, and we’d sometimes talk.” She raised a brow and a mocking smile. “As for anything else, you must remember he was ten years my senior, and I was just a kid.”
Billy now looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Sometimes you hear things. It was stupid even to ask,” he apologized. “It’s just that I heard many different stories after he’d left town. Some thought he knew something about the murder, some thought he had a fight with your father, and others insisted he got some girl in trouble. We assumed that girl was you. Obviously not.”
Sidney was stunned while staring at him. “People actually thought Harlan and I were messing around? I can’t believe someone would make up a story like that. Don’t people in this town have anything better to do?”
He chuckled and appeared humored. “No, I don’t think so.” Billy didn’t release her when the song ended. “Sidney, would you consider going out with me, just the two of us?”
Sidney considered it a moment then offered a pleasant smile. “Give me a call sometime. We’ll talk about it then.”
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