All She Wrote

by Tonya Kappes

  “I…I…” Grady looked over at me for some help.

  “No. Don’t you dare go running to your mom. You are a big boy, and you need to take responsibility for us being in this situation.” Julia’s nostrils flared. “What do you want me to do?” She looked at Angela with a determined spirit.

  “I’m going to get your fingerprints so we can eliminate your prints from the prints we found on the shovel.” Angela seemed to have softened a bit.

  “What about mine?” Grady asked with a nervous tone.

  “We already had your prints on file from your teacher’s background check, and the prints we can’t identify weren’t yours.” Angela excused herself to go out to her cruiser to get the kit.

  There was a very uncomfortable silence. I could feel the tension between Grady and Julia.

  “Can I say something?” I asked them.

  “No!” they said in unison.

  “Well, can I get a piece of the bread pudding I made for supper?” Iris eyeballed the dessert that was still sitting on top of the stove.

  Leave it to Iris to break the silence and bring us together with a sweet treat.

  Chapter 12

  I’d like to say I’d woken up refreshed and ready for my mail route. I was exactly the complete opposite. After Iris had taken me home from our failed attempt at spying and finding out Julia was on Sheriff Angela Hafley’s short suspect list of who might’ve killed Florence Gaines. . .well let’s just say it wasn’t a good night.

  Rowena, Buster and I ended up staying up until three a.m. watching infomercials while I ate almost every single cookie Iris had made for me to take over to Courtney’s. After every infomercial, I’d glance out the slightly parted window covering toward Courtney’s house and wonder if I should attempt to go over there tomorrow to see if she really thought Julia killed Florence.

  Ridiculous. Of course she didn’t.

  “No, no, no.” I slammed my hand on the alarm clock that sounded especially loud this morning and rolled over to my side, tugging at what little covers weren’t already taken by Rowen and Buster. They felt like heavy weights on the blankets, exposing my bare arms to the chilly morning. “Forget it,” I groaned and made myself get out of bed.

  Buster darted off the bed, and Rowena barely lifted her chin to see what was going on.

  “Now you get off the covers.” I eyeballed the goofy dog who was wagging his tail at the door of my bedroom. “Fine. Let’s go potty.”

  Leaving Rowena to her beauty sleep, I headed down the small hallway to let Buster out the front door, stopping by the bathroom first to turn on the shower so it was good and hot when I came back.

  It wasn’t like my showers were long, so it was a great time to let Buster do his business while I got ready for work.

  Today I was thankful I was able to put on my postal uniform and not have to think too much about my appearance. With my hair pulled back in a ponytail, I’d swiped on a little lipstick for color, and out the door I went, telling Buster I’d grab him on my third loop.

  The weather was supposed to be a perfect temperature for the season, which was when it was best to let Buster tag along with me. Plus, I wanted a distraction. My mind was still filled with the possibility Julia could’ve killed Florence.

  Now more than ever, I had to keep my ears open for any potential suspects. Last night, Florence’s death had gotten personal.

  With Buster and Rowena set for a few hours until I checked on them when I delivered mail from my second loop, I headed out the door and walked over to the post office. It was business as usual with the carriers getting the mail together and the clerks helping them before they opened the doors to the public at the counter.

  My mail carrier bag seemed a little lighter today for the nursing home, which meant I could talk to Vince and see exactly what that little facial gesture he gave me at church was all about.

  “I came right here to see you.” I took the one single cookie I hadn’t eaten and that I’d saved for Vince. “I saved you a cookie.” I handed him the baggie. “It wasn’t easy either.”

  “Thank you, Bernie.” He set his paper down next to him and took it. I have no idea how he read that small print under the little lights of the covered porch. It was still dark outside, and the sunrise wouldn’t be for at least another hour. “This would’ve gone well with my afternoon coffee appointment with Zeke yesterday.”

  “You had coffee with Zeke? ” I set the bag down on the ground of the front porch and joined Vince on the swing. The morning air was much warmer outside than it had been in my house.

  “After I’d heard what happened to Florence, I figured you’d be. . .” His head wagged back and forth as though he were searching for a word that wouldn’t offend me.

  “Just say it,” I encouraged him. “Nosy?”

  “I wasn’t going to say ‘nosy,’ but maybe ‘look into.’” He smiled. “That’s why I gave you the look on Sunday after church. I knew you’d be wanting to find out about Zeke and Florence’s marriage, so I had coffee with him at Roasted Bean. Boy, he had a lot to say.”

  “You have no idea what you doing this means to me.” I sighed, hoping there was a little information I could use to help out Julia. “My daughter-in-law has put herself in a little bit of a pickle.” I proceeded to tell him about Julia and how she’d gone over to Courtney’s house.

  “A pickle? I’d say it was more than a pickle. I’d say she put herself in the whole jar of pickles.” He took the cookie out of the bag and took a bite. “I sure would like a cup of Matilda Garrison’s coffee right now.”

  “Me and you both,” I told him, knowing I would stop by the Roasted Bean on my second loop and get a cup of coffee from Matilda, the coffee shop owner, since I was late getting up and didn’t get to brew my own coffee.

  My phone chirped a text. I had to check it in case it was Mac. We’d not gone this long without a text or phone call since Richard died. When we’d decided to try to have a companionship, we’d texted constantly.

  It wasn’t him. It was my good-old trusty friend Iris. She asked me to deliver Tiffany Franklin’s cake to the community center this afternoon. Then she added how I can ask around about Florence and what committees and boards she was on. Which would actually be perfect timing for my mail route downtown. I’d make it my third loop today instead of my second. Not only because I wanted to see what was going down at the community center, but because I knew Mac Tabor scheduled all his out-of-office meetings in the afternoon. When I delivered his mail, he wouldn’t be there. With Julia at home, I wasn’t able to call Tabor Architects to see if the coast was clear.

  “Zeke had told me he and Florence had gotten married, though I do think he was holding something back. I can’t say he married her for love.” Vince kept talking, not bothered by me being rude and reading my text from Iris. “More along the lines of having someone around.”

  He only confirmed what I had thought after I’d heard him and Florence arguing.

  “He said it was her idea to get married and she knew he was in a financial situation because the bank board had a meeting and he was mentioned in the foreclosures.” Vince crossed his leg. The newspaper crumpled. “Something about helping him out of debt and bringing his name back to good standing by getting him on some boards around town. Something about a new reputation where he’s seen as powerful and an authority.”

  “Oh.” I laughed. “Zeke Grey is one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. I could never see him doing a big power move.”

  “That’s what I thought too.” Vince drew back, his eyes squinted. “But he sure did perk up when he was saying how she’d pumped up his ego. He really wanted to give this new life a shot. And they were going to do it as a power couple by going into the board meeting at the bank together. She was going to pay off his loans and sell them the property where they want to build the new bank branch, with one condition.”

  “They put Zeke on the board.” I already knew what he was going to say.

  “You got it,
kiddo.” Vince pointed at me and winked with a little click of his tongue.

  “I was at Leaf and Petal where Sara Rammond mentioned something about Larry wanting to sell the back part of their property to the new bank branch.” I looked at Vince. “I’d forgotten how Wally World didn’t buy up all of Florence’s property.”

  He stuck the last piece of cookie in his mouth.

  “Zeke did seem upset, which made me feel like he didn’t kill her, but he also didn’t say he didn’t kill her. When I asked him about any legality to their marriage and any shared property, he said Florence had mentioned she’d like him to take over as president of her family’s charity upon her death, which would leave him financially stable if he outlived her.”

  “He certainly outlived her.” I knew I had to see Zeke.

  “He said they’d gotten married for three reasons.” Vince held up a finger. “Companionship for him, and she was going to give him a life in his later years.” He held up a second finger. “Power for her.”

  “What kind of power?” I couldn’t even think of what that could be. “What kind of power could Zeke give her when he had no money?”

  “Like I said, he said ‘power couple.’” He shrugged. “Whatever that meant.”

  My list of people to visit while walking my route was getting long. Today was going to be a long day in the mail carrier department. I was going to make sure I took my time to do a little snooping, and it meant I had to see Zeke Grey first and foremost. There were a lot of unanswered questions about Zeke, and even if Angela Hafley had taken him in for questioning, it didn’t mean he was going to answer them.

  Me? I was different. Everyone trusted their mail carrier. After all, I knew most of their deepest secrets. They had no idea how much their mail spoke about them.

  Chapter 13

  The nursing home was pretty easy to deliver the mail to. There were small boxes along one wall, and all I had to do was stick a key in and turn it, popping them all open. Going down the line, I tossed the correct mail in the slots and locked them back up, completing my first mail loop of the day.

  I’d taken a little more time than usual since I’d talked to Vince and was happy to see that Monica hadn’t been busy at the counter and had gotten the next two loops together for me.

  “And there’s a big cart today for your neighbor.” Monica loved to snoop through the mail. “I was about to run it through our x-ray machine to see what was in all of them.”

  “About to? Or did?” I questioned, knowing it wouldn’t be out of character, though illegal.

  “I did.” She smiled. “Nothing exciting. Appears to be clothes or fabrics.”

  “She must be a shopper.” Then I remembered her position at the school. “She’s the new home economics teacher. I bet she’s ordering things for her classroom for the fall.”

  “Mystery solved. So you be sure to tell Harriette what we think.” Monica grabbed the handle of the cart and started pulling it over to me. “She’s been in here every day since Courtney started getting packages, asking me all sort of questions.”

  “I’m not going to tell her what’s in other people’s mail.” I picked up the pile for the third loop and started to fill my bag.

  “Aren’t you going to deliver loop two?” Monica asked with her hand still holding the handle of the cart.

  “I’m going to switch it up today. I think I’ll get the third loop before it gets too hot out today.” It sounded like a great excuse, but I should have known better than to get something pulled over on Monica.

  “You’re lying. You don’t want to see Mac Tabor.” This was the Monica that drove me crazy.

  I didn’t mind hearing her discuss other people—I just listened—but apparently she’d been discussing me and Mac.

  “Not entirely true, but part of it.” I wanted to know how she knew, or really, who knew and told her.

  “If you ask me, I don’t think Lucy Drake is his type.” Her words made my heart drop.

  I didn’t want to ask her for more details, but in any case, why would people think Lucy and Mac were an item? What had people been saying?

  “What did you hear?” I asked because I had to know.

  “The radio. Lucy Drake is all over her Coffee Chat with Lucy about how she went into the weekend wondering about the murder of Florence Gaines but came out on top with a date for the first Sunday Clogging Festival with Mac Tabor.” Monica watched me. “But don’t worry. I knew it wasn’t true. There’d be no way you and Mac broke up. You’re meant for each other.”

  I didn’t really know what to say. I didn’t even know what we were until now. Mac and I had never even talked about where we went from there.

  “And you aren’t saying anything.” Monica continued to bait me, and when she noticed I was unable to respond, she reached over and started to help me put the third loop of mail in my bag. “Let Lucy Drake take your sloppy seconds.”

  I busted out laughing. I wished I could say something bad about Mac and explain why I just wasn’t ready to become the woman he wanted—a married woman—but I decided to keep that between me and him.

  I needed a distraction from a lot of things today, and having Buster with me in the neighborhood would be a great excuse when people complained on the second loop why I was hours late. Plus he was a client magnet. Zeke included.

  When someone saw Buster walking with the cute mail carrier vest I’d ordered online for him, it was hard for them to not rush over and pet him. With both Florence and Zeke living in the neighborhood, it would be a great way for their neighbors to discuss what’d happened in their hood.

  Buster was so happy, and it was a perfect time of the morning. The weather was warm but not so warm that I needed to carry anything more than a simple water bottle for him to lick from.

  It was also early enough for the neighbors to be sitting outside with their morning coffee or watering their flowers before the sun, which directly faced the neighborhood, decided to burn down on them for the afternoon.

  The neighborhood kids were already on their bikes and starting to create some fun havoc. Even a few had their sprinklers blasting on full power as they jumped through, landing in the mud puddles they’d created in their yard.

  Just for a moment, I’d forgotten all about Mac. . .then. . .

  “Hey Bernie! How your mama and them?” Cora Elizabeth Lewis couldn’t get her screen door open fast enough while me and Buster were walking up to her front door to put the mail in her black mailbox attached to her house.

  “They are good, Mrs. Lewis. I’ll be sure to tell them you asked about them.” I reached in my mailbag to get her mail. “How ’bout you? You doing alright?”

  So, on a given day, Cora Elizabeth Lewis would be a customer I’d dread delivering the mail to. But today wasn’t any given day. Today was the day I was snooping.

  “Honey, take your own sweet time finding my mail. I’ll be right back.” Yep, Cora wanted to talk, and I was all ears.

  I’d found her mail and had it waiting for her so I could hand it to her. When she got back, in exchange for her mail, she gave Buster a dog biscuit with a little saucer of water after she pushed out the screen door.

  “Now.” She sat down in a metal chair with crisscrossed plastic for the seat. “You take a load off while that baby gets him a drink. Awful about you and Mac.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled and hoped that’s not what she wanted to talk to me about, since she was a close friend of Florence Gaines. Maybe Florence’s only friend. “Mac doesn’t have kids, and I’m not going to have any more…” I couldn’t believe I was making up some big fat excuse for why me and Mac had apparently called it off.

  “Lordy, that man doesn’t need to be having no babies in his fifties. Why, he’d be seventy when that baby would go off to college. Ridiculous.” Cora reached over and patted me on the hand. “Lucy Drake should be ashamed of herself, carrying on like a schoolgirl, giggling and all. ’Bout made me not eat my breakfast this morning and an outright shame for Florenc
e.”

  “What do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant, but it was a good way to get her off the topic of me and Mac and on the main reason I took a seat in the first place.

  “Florence deserves to have a little airtime after all she’s done for this community, and I called in. I told Lucy Drake that her mama, if she was listening and I reckon her mama was, that she shouldn’t be airing her laundry out for the whole town about her romping around with Mac Tabor, a man of honor in my eye, when Florence Gaines is lying faceup at the Sugar Creek Gap Funeral Home with a murderer on the loose.”

  “You told her all that?” I sure hated that I missed Cora Elizabeth’s tongue-lashing. I probably would’ve smiled.

  “You know I did.” Her lips pressed together. “Bernie, what on earth is this world coming to?”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Lewis.” I looked out into the street then down toward Zeke’s house. “I knew something was off when Florence married Zeke Grey.”

  “I reckon that’s when I knew something deep in my bones wasn’t right with Florence. I told her, why you gonna do that. Put up with a dirty old man.” A look of disgust settled deep in the wrinkles of Cora’s eighty-year-old face. “You know, going from a clean house to cleaning up after them pee spots in those little cups on the side of the toilet. Dis-gusting. But Florence didn’t listen to me a couple of months ago when he’d concocted the plan.”

  “The plan?” I asked.

  “He planned to marry her. He’d already been putting down the foundation to hook her when he saw she was happy for his grandson getting married. When she found out he was broke, she said she felt sorry for him and that she’d actually taken a shine to him.” Cora rolled her eyes. “Said he was a good kisser. Gross if you ask me.”

  There was a visual I didn’t want but had been seared into my brain.

  “I heard it was Florence who had planned to get Zeke to marry her.” This was very interesting. I’d heard one side of the story from Zeke’s best friend, another side of the story from Florence’s best friend, and somewhere in the middle was the truth. That’s what I needed.