The Arcanum of Beth

by Mary Jane Russell

  Gloria nodded absently.

  “Hellooooo.” Janet had lost her attention.

  “Holy crap. I don’t believe it. I was hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me.” Gloria stared past Janet’s shoulder toward the entrance of the restaurant.

  “Tricks are for kids.” Janet couldn’t help herself.

  Gloria kicked her under the table.

  “What?”

  Gloria shook her head slowly. “You may as well look. Don’t worry about being subtle. They aren’t seeing anything past each other, and it’s dark back here.”

  Janet turned in her seat, studying the faces behind her. She did a double take at the couple close to the front door—Lou and Patti—and they were very much a couple. Janet didn’t take her eyes from them as she pivoted into the chair beside Gloria.

  “Isn’t that Beth’s partner?” Gloria leaned over and whispered the question. “I only met her once at a party. Her hair is different, longer and more feminine. She hasn’t lost any time, has she?”

  “That’s not the half of it. Do you know who the other woman is?”

  Gloria studied the bottle blonde. “No.”

  Janet finally turned her head away from the women and looked at her friend. “She’s the wife of Beth’s brother and an antiques broker who loves the dealers along Route 11. I wonder who she’s cheated out of family heirlooms that she needs to unload for a quick profit.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” Janet pushed her chair slightly back from the table. “God damn the two of them. They never stopped seeing each other. I knew it when Ellen told me what Delores said took place at the beach, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself.” Janet’s hands tightened into fists.

  “Slow down, buddy. You’re losing me.” Gloria openly stared. “They don’t seem very grief stricken. Are they trying to put on a show for everyone?” She dropped her eyes as the women kissed.

  Janet threw her cloth napkin down on the table.

  Gloria put her hand on Janet’s arm. “Don’t do it. Not here, not now. Not before you have the sheriff’s report. Don’t tip your hand.”

  “What?” Janet couldn’t take her eyes off the women. They touched with every word to each other, whispering and giggling as they leaned closer to each other for emphasis. “My God, is that what Beth had to put up with? Is that what she was watching, thinking she was losing her mind? Surely, it couldn’t be happening right in front of her with a family member. Were they that obvious around her? Then the pretense of reconciling…those bitches.”

  Red crept up Janet’s neck and cheeks. She felt as though the top of her head would blow off, hopefully as a mortar striking the two women. “Those goddamned bitches killed Beth. As much as I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise, they damn well did.” She backed her chair away from the table so she had enough room to stand. “No wonder Delores heard so much. They’re blatant with their infatuation.”

  “I’m begging you, don’t do it. Don’t break redneck on me.” Gloria held onto Janet’s arm.

  “Beth knew. They were playing her grief for her mother and her love for her brother to get away with it. What kind of hell was Beth living through and not talking to us about?” Tears ran down Janet’s cheeks.

  Lou and Patti could not physically sit any closer. They traded quick kisses, not caring if anyone saw them. They smoothed each other’s hair. When Patti wanted to know the time, she held Lou’s wrist so she could see her watch.

  “I’m going to be sick.” Janet sagged in her chair.

  The waitress brought their order to the table. They both stared at the food, making no motion toward tasting any of it. “Ladies, did I get your lunches confused?”

  “No, no. We’re fine. Could you bring the check, please?” Gloria encouraged the young woman to hurry. She relaxed her hold on Janet.

  Janet blotted her cheeks with her napkin. She stared at Lou. “What did you do to our dear, dear friend?”

  “Timing, Janet. Timing. Do your homework. Be ready to make a case.” Gloria leaned closer and turned Janet’s head toward hers with her pointer finger.

  “What?” Janet found a tissue and squeezed her nose.

  “Be ready to make a case. Beth stopped in to see me when she went to Harrisonburg for the spring Green Valley Book Fair. That’s all I can say. That and let’s get the hell out of here.” She pushed her chair back. “We’re going to walk around the far perimeter of the room, and they’re not going to see us. You don’t want them to see us. They’re not going to know they’ve been seen out like this together. Do you understand?” Gloria tugged Janet in the direction she had just explained to her.

  “No, I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re still processing all of this. Just trust me and follow me.” Gloria placed a twenty and a five on the tray with the ticket. “Now.”

  Janet numbly walked out of the restaurant. Gloria was right—the loving couple did not seem to notice them.

  “Lucy, you have some ’splainin to do,” Janet said her favorite Ricky Ricardo line to Gloria as she tried to regain her composure. She was not accustomed to being unnerved.

  “Later. Much later.” Gloria encouraged her to walk slowly along the storefronts. Their drive home would be long and quiet. The bag with the top had been left beside the chair in the restaurant.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “I just want to buy a loaf of bread,” Janet said the words slowly to herself as she stood before the wall of bread bags and felt totally overwhelmed. Her brain had been on overdrive all day between gathering evidence to determine the fate of two abused children and thinking about Lou and Patti in Harrisonburg.

  Her hands rested on the handle as she pushed the grocery cart slightly back and forth while skimming all the labels on the bags once again. Of course, the cart had one wheel that tried to roll perpendicular to the others.

  A basket with a squeaky wheel rolled to a stop beside Janet. “When I can’t decide which healthy grain to congratulate myself for buying, I go with the thick sliced white bread…it’s comfort food.”

  “There’s no earthly need to have more than the basic choices, white, wheat, or rye. How in the hell am I supposed to know which one of these blends to buy? I don’t read the frou-frou magazines to know what the latest fad is.”

  “I know. Mike always tells me he can gauge my mood by how I grocery shop. I seem to need something every day. It’s on the way home from the hospital.”

  “If you spend the money a little at a time, it’s not nearly as life-threatening as a three-figure grocery ticket.”

  “Exactly.”

  Janet finally tore her gaze away from the bread bags and looked at the woman she was carrying on a conversation with. “Ruth! How long were you going to let me rattle on before I looked at you?”

  The woman laughed. “Sounded as though you needed to vent. I don’t think bread is what’s really bothering you, though.”

  “Can you believe it’s been almost three months?” Janet felt her eyes filling up. “Crap.”

  Ruth reached over and gently squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. Our jobs suck, don’t you think? We meet people during the most stressful times in their lives when they’re dealing with life and death, or with something serious going on with children. We’re thrown in the middle of what they usually wouldn’t tell anyone and know more than they do about it. We have very short, intense relationships. Then most of the time, people want to forget us because we’re associated with trauma, mental or physical, as a bad memory.” Ruth reached for a bag of cinnamon raisin bagels.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” Janet inclined her head toward the grouping of small round tables at the bank of coffee carafes.

  Ruth nodded.

  They parked their carts along the side wall.

  “Oh, Christ. Now I have to decide on which flavored coffee.” Janet stared at the row of eight carafes brewed from as many different types of beans.

  Ruth laughed. “I just stay with
plain and caffeinated, no sweetener, no flavored creamer. It simplifies things considerably.”

  “Okay, I too can make a decision this late in the day. French vanilla.” She pulled back a chair at the closest table and sank into it. “It’s been a long week.”

  “Tell me about it. We do three twelve-hour days. By the end of the third day, I’m ready to be a patient.” Ruth sat opposite Janet and sipped the coffee. She raised her cup. “Here’s to simple pleasures.”

  “Amen.”

  “And to decent women.”

  Janet nodded.

  “Keith and Beth Candler were very special. I’m glad to have known them.”

  Janet nodded again. She felt her eyes filling with tears. “Beth was a good friend.”

  “She certainly loved her mother even with the expectations Keith had of her. Keith reminded Beth almost daily that she was responsible for her brother.”

  “Keith thought the sun rose and set with Beth,” Janet smiled fondly, “and knew how weak Will was.”

  “The conversations they had. They included me since I was in the room so much.” Ruth stared at her coffee.

  Janet could understand why patients and family members alike trusted this woman. There was a genuine no-nonsense empathy about her. Her brown hair was short and spiked. Her makeup suited her age and complexion. She carried extra weight comfortably. Her scrubs were slightly wrinkled and always a solid color, brown today—no cutesy animals or cartoon characters. She had a look of perpetual weariness that came with her profession, slightly dark half moons under her eyes and a sag to her face that spoke greatly to the seriousness of what she dealt with day in and day out. Reading glasses hung around her neck, the kind bought at the drugstore and replaced frequently from breaking or losing. Her badge showed her years at the hospital evidenced by annual service pins.

  “You were the one who advised Beth about the non-resuscitation order and the morphine pump for Keith, the withdrawal of life.” Janet remembered how fondly Beth had spoken of this woman. “She appreciated that advice more than you’ll ever know. I know she was glad you were one of the nurses with both of them.”

  Ruth stared past Janet and carefully considered her next words. “They used to talk about it…that there are worse things than death. They must have been through a hell of a time looking after the father.” She lowered her voice.

  Janet nodded. “Beth once told me that after watching her father waste away, her one wish was a quick death. She didn’t care at what age.”

  “That’s why she wanted her mother to decide about another surgery, but she had no doubts about making the decision for her.” Ruth’s voice remained low.

  “Both of them were very pragmatic about death. It was inevitable. Beth told me her father died slowly over nine years. First the body failed, then the mind. She told me she’d thought about ending her father’s life, about ending his suffering. Keith tried to dismiss it by saying that Beth would never have actually done it. But you know, I think she would have if her mother hadn’t been holding onto her father so tightly. Beth had a tough streak that most people never saw. She tried to reason through everything, see all the sides of something, and some people misinterpreted that for being meek. She just wanted to think things through all the way. Once she decided on something, that was it. I used to tease her about quick decisions, that on the surface she would buy a car on a whim, before explaining to me that she’d been thinking about it for months but not discussing it. Then she’d just do it. No big deal.” Janet raised and lowered her shoulders.

  “Once Beth made up her mind about something…” Ruth drained the last of her coffee. “Family meant everything to her. She had a fierce loyalty to her mother and father. She adored her brother, despite some of his choices.”

  “Staying with Patti?” Janet frowned. “Sorry, that wasn’t a question for you.”

  Ruth nodded. “She told me a story that she said only she and her mother knew. She tried to make it funny, but it was easy to tell how much it bothered her. It happened when she was still living on the farm looking after her father. She was awakened one morning by dogs baying and a cat screeching for all it was worth. She loved all the animals, farm and pet. She rolled out of bed and ran outside to find that a pack of hunting dogs were trying to take down one of the farm cats. The cat was trapped in one of the sheds. She didn’t miss a beat, grabbed a shovel and beat her way through six dogs. She was mortified that she killed one of them. She knew the farmer whose pack it was and loaded the dead dog on a cattle truck and drove it home. The rest of the pack was already there but scattered when they saw her. She laid that man out from the sound of it. She laughed and said she never saw that pack of dogs, or any other, loose on their property again. And the cat survived.”

  “She was tough when she needed to be.”

  Ruth nodded. “You know she’d made up her mind that she was dying by the time she reached the hospital that day?”

  Janet stared at the woman.

  “She was barely lucid by the time she reached the ER, but she knew and accepted that she was dying without a complaint or a whimper. It was as though she just wanted it over and done with. Those women…” Ruth stopped herself, trying to control her anger.

  Janet nodded. “I know.”

  “Her partner at least had the decency to feel guilty and be sorry to lose her. That other one, she didn’t care one way or the other, despised the husband, and was toying with Beth’s partner. He might as well have been dying as far as that blonde was concerned, and the novelty of sex with a woman was wearing off. Sick, twisted people.”

  “Was it an accident?” Janet held her breath.

  “The EMTs couldn’t stop talking about the circumstances when they brought her in. They kept checking on her and talking about it every time they came in during the rest of my shift.” Ruth looked at her hands. “My father is a cattle farmer. I grew up hearing horror stories about farm accidents. From everything the guys told me, it was a clean roll, no blown tire, no fence, no guy wire involved. It sounds deliberate, almost planned. You have to roll over a soft spot just the right way on an incline to flip a tractor that size. Why didn’t she see fresh dirt? Why didn’t she know where her partner had been digging? Why was she mowing so early in the season on a farm tractor that close to the house?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Who wanted her dead?”

  Janet was absolutely stunned. Finally, someone said it all aloud and as a matter of fact. It made sense. The answer was very obvious.

  “She should have tied that damn blonde to the tractor seat and sent her down the hillside,” Ruth said as she placed her hand over Janet’s.

  Janet left the store without a loaf of bread.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Janet sat behind the wheel of her car and stared at the house. It had lost all its charm and warmth. She made herself move her hand to the door handle only because of the July heat building within the sedan. “This should be a laugh-packed afternoon.”

  She opened the back door and removed her briefcase and the plastic bag with all the tags. She stood beside the car and took a deep breath. “You can do this. Just remember…don’t tip your hand, observe.”

  It didn’t help to walk past Lou’s battered truck—sans the rainbow windsock—and the Cadillac SUV that bore the vanity plates “PrincessP.” She resisted the urge to key the Cadillac’s shiny silver paint. “Princess Patti indeed.” She reminded herself, “Don’t tip your hand, observe.”

  “Hey, boy, how are you?” Janet stopped on the porch beside the tri-colored Australian shepherd. “You’re not even going to try to jump up on me? No kisses? What’s wrong, boy?” She set her briefcase and bag down as she knelt beside the dog.

  “He doesn’t have much interest in things these days.” Lou stepped onto the porch. She was immaculate in crisp new khakis and a polo shirt. Her hair had almost grown out to shoulder length. Patti had not yet convinced her about makeup. “I don’t let him in the house anymore.
Patti only likes small dogs. He smells from roaming around outside all the time. If he doesn’t go back to the neighbors soon, I’m calling the animal warden. We don’t need a stinky dog camped out on the front porch.” She leaned down and looked the dog in the eyes with the last sentence.

  Only Buddy’s eyebrows moved.

  “Go on.” Lou gestured toward the yard. “Go make your rounds looking for her again.”

  Janet flinched and repeated her mantra in silence. She slowly stood. Lou picked up the briefcase and bag for her.

  “Hope you don’t mind, but we’re all here. Thought it would make settling things easier. If no one contests anything, maybe we can just go ahead and divvy it all up and be done with it.” Lou sounded hopeful. “I need to clear out some space for Patti.”

  “Really?” Janet felt a chill settle over her. She was glad she remembered to bring her cell phone and that Ellen knew where she was—but that was foolish.

  “Patti and Will have been looking for a weekend place in the mountains. I told them it would be stupid as hell for them to buy something else, just help with the payments on this place and we can all share. We even have a guesthouse so we can invite others out or that we can put Will in.” Lou laughed awkwardly as Janet remained stone-faced. “He likes the idea and has almost figured out how to stretch their budget enough to make it work. He only has to give up a few more luxuries like his club memberships. God knows I can’t afford this place on my own. I should have thought about that when we did the renovation. I ended up holding the bag on that extra twenty thousand dollars we needed for the basement, and I need to trade my truck in. Oh, well.” Lou held the front door open for her.

  Janet blinked as she walked into the house. The curtains were drawn. The air conditioning was turned up enough to allow meat outside of the refrigerator. Gone was the sense of the country home that Beth had designed the renovation plans for; there was no evidence of being in the mountains or surrounded by woods.

  Lou leaned close to Janet. “Patti gets migraines and is allergic to just about everything.”