Reading Between the Crimes

by Kate Young

  The girl was tall, thin, and pale, with chestnut-colored hair. I fought to control my eyes from going wide at her attire—a vintage, green, fringed flapper dress. The light bathed the black and white tile flooring, exposing a small powder room. Up close, she appeared much younger. I’d guess she was anywhere from sixteen to nineteen, with almond-shaped eyes, which she’d lined with jet-black eyeliner, and sparkly gold shadow glittered on her eyelids. She cast an odd look our way. We all smiled instinctively.

  I cleared my throat. “Hello. We’re friends of Harper’s. You must be—”

  She sniffed, cutting me off as she lifted her nose and continued down the hallway. Apparently, to her, our presence was of no consequence.

  Amelia frowned. “Who was that?”

  I leaned closer and whispered, “It’s Leonard’s daughter.”

  Melanie let out a little giggle, something she does when she’s nervous. “This family just keeps getting weirder. I have no idea how Harper stands it.”

  “I’m not so sure she had a choice.” Amelia made a face of disapproval as we continued down the hallway.

  “Who are you?” a wheezy voice asked us. And we halted beside a galley way that appeared to be a butler’s pantry. An elderly man sat slumped in a wheelchair; a burgundy crochet afghan lay across his lap, and his finger pointed at us.

  “Um, hello, sir. We’ve brought food for the family.” I hoped we’d brought enough for the additional mouths we hadn’t known we needed to feed. I’d remembered about the sister and daughter but hadn’t known that the son or this elderly man would also be here.

  “Harper.” He sliced his hand through the air. “That little gold digger. She ain’t gettin’ one red cent if I have anything to say about it.” Oh my. He must be one of the ones who went to the police station with so-called evidence. “I told Leonard to watch out for her. She’d been aimin’ to take this family’s fortune all along. Well, I’ll contest the will if I have to. She ain’t gettin’ nothin’! That money belongs to the family, not her. Not her, you hear! She ain’t ever been one of us. The little hussy.”

  Melanie let out a little another giggle, and I shot her a stern glare over my shoulder. My friend tended to laugh when she got scared, nervous, or at the most inappropriate times—mostly when Mel wasn’t sure how she ought to react. It wasn’t her fault, but under the circumstances, I’d hoped she get a better handle on her little affliction.

  She seemed to take the hint and glanced down at her feet while pinching her lips together. I did feel bad for her.

  “We didn’t mean to upset you, sir. You are?” I asked with a smile.

  “Me?” He squinted his eyes at me. “Who wants to know?”

  Melanie snickered again, but I could tell she’d wrestled with the one that got away.

  “I’m Lyla Moody.” After his rant about Harper, I withheld the information regarding our friendship.

  “Moody, huh?” He glanced up at the ceiling as if trying to place the name. Suddenly, he shrugged as if he’d given up. “You got a cigarette on ya, Moody?”

  More snickers from behind me.

  “Um, no, sir. I don’t smoke.”

  He sliced another hand through the air. “Nobody smokes anymore. Leonard smoked. Beatrice smokes, but she only smokes those fancy French cigarettes.” He crinkled up his nose.

  “I apologize about the cigarettes, but we do have some food, Mr.…?”

  “No ‘Mr.’ here. I’m just Felix. Leonard was my only brother.” His face crumpled, and his head slumped forward. He used a handkerchief in his left hand to wipe his eyes. “Sure gonna miss that son of a bitch.”

  “We’re so very sorry for your loss.” I felt helpless. “We’re going to take this food to the kitchen and give you some privacy.”

  He sniffed loudly, and despite his cantankerousness, my heart ached for the old guy.

  Amelia stepped up beside me. “If you’d like, we could make you a plate.”

  He nodded his head. “That’d be good. Thank ya.”

  “Um, would you like us to help you into the kitchen?” I offered.

  He shook his head. “Nah. Those two fools are in there. I’d rather be in here.”

  We all moved slowly down the rest of the hallway. All of us seemed to be processing our encounter with the young women and the little old man. I paused several feet from the kitchen when I heard a hushed conversation and the rustling of paper. “There’s nothing in here about how he died.”

  “And you were expecting there to be?” The person asking sounded like a woman with a low husky voice—then more rustling.

  “Yes, woman. That’s why I said it.” I’d been right. It was a woman. I glanced back at my friends. Everyone had the same “should we stay, or should we go?” expression. “Idiotic newspaper. There aren’t any pictures of the body or anything. That detective fella said someone brained Leonard. What kind of fool reporting is going on in this town?” They must be the fools Felix Richardson had referenced.

  “They were hoping to find crime scene pictures in the local paper,” Amelia mouthed.

  “This is nuts!” Melanie whisper-shouted, and I nodded in agreement.

  “You all find it?” LJ called. His boots echoed in the hallway.

  “Yes.” I continued into the large country-style kitchen with a large square table in the center. A couple, the one we’d overheard, sat sipping coffee and reading the local paper.

  “Hey.” LJ moved around us, then glanced back at us and grinned. “These are Harper’s buddies. They brought food.” He moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, cracking it open and taking a deep sip. “Harper will be down in a minute.”

  The couple at the table eyed us with palpable scrutiny.

  “Oh, sorry.” LJ swallowed quickly. “This is my cousin Kenneth and his wife, Janice. They’re staying with us for a while.”

  “Hello. Hi.” We all stumbled in unison with the greetings. Too weird. All these people behaved as if they owned the place.

  “Just put those bags down here.” LJ took the bags from us and placed them on the table, shoving the newspapers and mail out of the way.

  “We so terribly sorry for your loss,” Amelia said to the couple while placing the apple pie and the bag she carried down.

  “Don’t waste your sympathy. Anger is what you should feel.” Janice ran her hand through her frizzy bleached-blonde hair. “That little gold digger is to blame. Don’t believe me—just ask Charlie. He knows all about it.”

  “Janice!” LJ scowled.

  She raised her hands. “I’m not saying she killed him. But she was supposed to be looking after him. He wasn’t himself these last few weeks. What was she thinking? Taking him to a party in his condition was absurd.” I wondered if she, too, had been involved when the others went to the police. This family certainly didn’t think highly of Harper, and the thought troubled me greatly.

  “Yep. My dear uncle and I were working on a project together. I do hope I have enough notes to finish it. He would have wanted that.” Kenneth attempted a dutiful expression though he didn’t quite make it. “Smells good.” He began picking through the bag closest to him and paused. He waved his hand over his nose. “Shew! Did dad mess his pants again?”

  “I ain’t done it!” Felix bellowed from the other room.

  Janice laughed as Kenneth found the bag. “Shew! Here it is! What’s in this bag? I ain’t eaten it!”

  “It’s an herbal tea.” Amelia’s face flushed. We’d warned her.

  The old man got up and tossed it into the trash and tied it up. “This needs to go out now, LJ, you hear?”

  “I’ll get right on it.” LJ blinked rapidly above the can. I guess the odor was still emitting through the black garbage bag.

  “Well, I hope y’all enjoy the food. We”—I waved to include my friends—“didn’t want the family to have to worry about cooking or anything during your time of grief.” We certainly hadn’t brought enough food for all these people for more than a single meal.

>   “Excuse me.” All eyes turned to Amelia. “The elderly gentlemen in the other room asked for a plate. Would you mind if I made him one?”

  “Uncle Felix has got to eat too.” LJ finished off his beer and went to take the trash out. It didn’t escape our attention that he kept the bag at arm’s length.

  Kenneth shrugged. “Sure. He’s right. My old man has to eat too. And while you’re at it, take a plate to Aunt Edna. She’ll wake up when she smells the food. Plates are over there.” He waved to the cabinet beside the white ceramic sink and took a drumstick right out of the box. Amelia went to retrieve a plate and some flatware to dish out the food.

  “I’ll help you, Amelia.” Mel began taking the food from the bags.

  “What did you say your name was?” Janice twirled a finger through her hair.

  I hadn’t, but I didn’t see the harm in introducing myself. “Lyla Moody.”

  “That your natural color? It’s a unique copper color.” She squinted at me as if investigating my roots.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Quiet, woman.” Kenneth pointed at me. “Moody.” He scrounged around for the newspaper and pointed. “You’re the little gal who found Uncle Leonard.”

  “You be quiet!” Janice cast him a murderous glower.

  Uncomfortable, I folded my hands in front of me, and my heart began beating like a drum. I didn’t know how Harper coped with living here. The vibe in this house caused my skin to crawl. “Yes, sir.” I fought to control my irritation with the Neanderthal.

  “What’d he look like?” Kenneth popped a couple of pieces of fried okra into his mouth. Janice glanced up then as if she, too, were interested in my answer.

  And when I cast a glance over to LJ, who’d just come back in, with hopes of him saving me from being rude, he raised his brows and said, “Well?”

  Why in the world would his son want to know something like that?

  “Um,” I glanced back at my friends as they left the room, off to deliver the food to the senior residents of the house.

  “It wasn’t … well …” I stumbled over the words. How did one describe such a sight to the supposedly grieving family members? I honestly didn’t desire to go into it at all. What type of family behaves this way?

  “Hey.” Harper entered the kitchen, saving me from continuing. Our fellow club member had swollen red eyes and wore a long, belted, denim dress. Seeing her settled all my doubts that had been raised by Rosa’s call.

  “Harper. You poor thing.” I hugged her. “How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged and laid her head on my shoulder.

  “We brought some food. Are you hungry?”

  “I don’t think I could eat just now.” Harper released me. “Why don’t we all go sit outside for a bit.”

  “Okay.” Anything to get out of this house.

  Chapter Eight

  The four of us sat on her oversized screened-in back porch with cups of tea. Harper didn’t have any coffee in the house, and I felt terrible for not having asked if they needed anything from the store. I could tell Amelia did too. The three of us sat stiff as statues, clearly uncomfortable to the casual observer. Harper gazed out over the backyard, covered with fallen leaves. A large rope swing, tied to a limb on the large oak tree in the center of the yard, moved with each gust of wind. Standing by the tree stood Leonard’s daughter, smoking a cigarette in one of those old-fashioned cigarette holders.

  Harper noticed us staring as she sipped from her antique rose teacup. “That’s Bea. She’s Leonard’s youngest child. She’s a sweet girl. But she bucked her father’s rules at every turn. She just broke Leonard’s heart with her wild, rebellious ways.”

  Bea must’ve noticed us staring, too, because she walked into the small carriage house at the back of the property.

  “The police were here again today.” Harper turned in her seat toward me. “They kept asking if I knew whether Leonard had had any enemies, or could I think of anyone who would rob him.”

  “Oh” was all I could think to say.

  “Who could have done this at your mother’s charity event? It was by invitation only.”

  The three of us shook our heads, and I said, “I don’t know, hon.”

  “It’s just unimaginable. And Lyla, this happened right under the chief of police’s nose. If anyone should have noticed something suspicious, it was him. How dare he!” Harper put her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s just the police are beginning to sound more and more accusatory.”

  “Have any idea why?” Amelia asked and cast a worried glance my way before focusing on Harper. We were all recalling Rosa’s warnings.

  Harper shook her head, looking helpless.

  “None of this makes sense. And nothing I can say will make it any better. But you’ll have some closure when the police get whoever did this. The police are just following protocols. Try not to take it personally,” I said, attempting to reassure her.

  Harper nodded; her shaky fingers gripped the cup.

  I hated this. Hated it. If I dwelled on the crime long enough, I understood Harper’s anger. It could have been my father lying out in the library, or any other attendee. But then, I thought back to Rosa. The evidence the family had turned over gave me pause in that line of thinking.

  “It’s surreal. I keep thinking Leonard’s going to walk through that door at any second. I wanted out of my marriage. That much is true. But I didn’t want him dead.” Harper wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “Oh, hon.” I moved around Amelia to sit to the left of Harper and took her hand. I had to do something. “Have the police said anything about the evidence they recovered at the scene or about any suspects?”

  Mel and Amelia looked on with keen interest as Harper shook her head. She dropped her face into her hands, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and held her while she sobbed. All three of us shed tears along with her. Her pain palpable, Melanie wiped at her eyes, and Amelia handed tissues around.

  “We’re going to get you through this. You aren’t alone.” I squeezed her tighter.

  A minute or so later, rustling in the blinds caught our attention, and Harper lifted her head and began mopping her face with her tissues. Kenneth peeked out while he took a bite of what looked like pie.

  Harper frowned. “They’d kick me right out if they could. They never approved of our marriage.”

  “Who? Leonard’s family?” I glanced toward the window.

  She nodded, and Kenneth stuck his tongue out at us before letting the blinds drop.

  “My God. He gives me the creeps.” Melanie shivered. “Do they all treat you that way?”

  “Well, LJ is different, and Bea seems to like me. But the rest of the vipers are a nightmare. They’re always here with their hands out. None of them pitch in for anything. Dead beats.” Harper wrapped her arms around herself. “LJ is the only one I can depend on.” I wondered about the rumors of an affair. Especially by the way her face softened when she’d said LJ’s name.

  Harper,” I said softly, “are you sure you want to stay here? You could come and stay with one of us for a while.” This family certainly seemed to have it in for her.

  “No. It’s fine.” Harper sniffed. “This is my home, and I won’t give it up to those vultures.”

  “I can respect that.” Melanie leaned forward. “But isn’t it too much to cope with? I mean, it’s got to be awful staying here with the likes of Kenneth.”

  Harper shivered and surprised us by whispering, “It is. You all can’t imagine what it’s like living the way I have for the last year. I’m getting rid of them as soon as I can. That’ll serve them right.”

  “Good for you!” Mel nodded.

  I put my cup next to where Amelia had placed hers. “Bless your heart. I can’t even imagine the strength it must take to endure all this. And the offer stands. If you ever need a break, you’ll always have a place with one of us.”

  “Thanks. Your mom said the same.” Harper
glanced up and gave me a watery smile. “You have such a nice family.”

  I smiled. “I am lucky.” I wanted to ask about my mother but didn’t feel like the timing was appropriate.

  She nodded and rubbed her finger around the brim of the cup; her eyes remained downcast. “It’s like I’m a stranger in my own house now. When Leonard was here, it was different.” Mel passed the box of tissues over to Amelia, who handed it to Harper.

  “You told us about Edna and Bea living with you, but not the rest of them. Has Leonard’s family always treated your home as if y’all had a revolving door?” Melanie scooted to the edge of her seat after a quick glance toward the blinds behind her told us we were no longer being watched.

  Harper shook her head. “When we first got married, it was just the two of us, Edna, and Beatrice. Edna took some getting used to.” Her shoulders rose and then fell. “I managed to adjust. We had a nice little house in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I had my job as a receptionist at the rehab facility, and we were close to my aunt. One day, it simply changed. Leonard started going to late-night meetings and started asking me to dress differently. I wanted to make him happy, so I complied.” She sighed. “He floored me when he up and told me he’d bought a house in Sweet Mountain, Georgia, and put our old house on the market; He’d never even discussed it with me. That’s when I found out about the severity of his impulsiveness. He said he was led here.”

  “Led here by …?” I asked.

  “He said he felt this is where we needed to be. That he’d been guided by a higher power.” Harper twisted the tissues in her hand.

  I glanced briefly over at Amelia, who raised her brows.

  “Leonard sometimes said things like that. He felt we should do this or that. He claimed to have some psychic discernment.” Harper shrugged. “I just thought it was a quirk. Leonard was very good with money and retired early. He spent a lot of time reading up on different ways of life and enjoyed it. I supported it. But he got caught up in some weird minimalistic movement from years ago. I can’t remember the name now, but I think the police raided their compound like forty years ago or something. I’m talking kooky stuff.”