It's Marple, Dear

by L Mad Hildebrandt

“I’ll take a rain check,” he said as we disentangled ourselves.

  ❃ ❃ ❃

  I stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes. A smile tugged at my lips as I thought about Lonnie. Then, glancing out the window at the house next door my thoughts turned to Dee and her family. No way! No way was I going to let that stand. Lonnie said that Mac and Jennifer were still suspects, while Doctor Wilson and Jeanine Pryor were not. I had to enlist some help. I’d probably burned my bridges with the doctor and nurse when I accompanied my mother to Old Timers’ Town. Certainly, he’d discussed our crude attempt at interrogation with her. Probably sharing a pillow in a back room at the Desert Coffee House. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. But, they were sure to have talked about it.

  So, I talked to Mother. And she called her Solitaire ladies. This time, we included Dee. She was happy to help, now that we had identified a target other than her granddaughter, or her son.

  I sat at the game table and watched out the window for their arrival. The ladies came quickly. Furtively glancing up and down the street, they exited their houses, then scurried and up to our door. Dee scooted across the drive after the rest of the crew had assembled.

  Mother took her place in the green chair, and we turned our game table chairs to face her. She’d finished rolling various colored skeins of yarn into balls, and now took one out of the basket at her feet. She took two knitting needles she’d dug out somewhere, and began twisting yarn around them.

  “Now, ladies,” she said. “Raymond and I thought we’d uncovered a likely suspect, or two, in our investigation. But, unfortunately, we’ve also provided them with an alibi.”

  “Of course,” I added. “That’s not a bad thing if they’re actually innocent. But if it’s a false alibi…” I let the sentence drop, unfinished. They knew what I meant.

  “Precisely,” Mother said.

  “But, who is it?” Dee hopped up, impatiently. The other ladies pulled her back gently, whispering, “there, there,” and “dear,” and such.

  “It appears…” Mother smiled benevolently, yet somehow triumphant. “Dr. Wilson and Jeanine Pryor have apparently been engaging in an affair of their own.”

  “The beast,” Donna said.

  “Poor Tammy Lynn,” Paisley added. “To have an unfaithful husband.” Needless to say, I agreed. My first husband, and his wandering eye, was the reason I’d never remarried. I didn’t trust men that much. Though, maybe, things were beginning to thaw out.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Maria slapped the table. “Let’s listen to what Jane has to say!” The clamor quieted, and Mother continued.

  “I suggest that we break up into groups.” Mother paused in her haphazard yarn and needle twisting. It’s not like the yarn could attach itself.

  “For safety’s sake,” Paisley said. “Good idea.”

  “Actually,” I said. “Because there aren’t enough targets to go around.”

  “Good point,” Donna agreed. She fluffed her hair. “I do hope I’m assigned to Doctor Wilson?”

  “You are,” Mother said. “And so are you, Maria. Dee, I want you to go with Paisley. Nurse Pryor is your subject. Be careful. One of them may be the murderer. You don’t want them to realize you are after proof, one way, or another.”

  “So, what we want to know is…” I turned in my seat to gaze into each face. “Were they really together at Spa Elegante? Is that an ironclad alibi?”

  “In the meantime,” Mother said. “Raymond and I will be following other leads.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sitting at the eye doctor, knowing that other people are actively investigating, is torture. Especially, when the magazines in the waiting room are years old. It took forty-five minutes, but when Mother came back to the waiting room her piercing blue eyes had been declared as good as ever. Hopefully, they could help me see past the blocks in this case, because I sure was stumped.

  For instance, who could possibly be a viable suspect, aside from Mac or Jennifer Garfield? They still remained at the top of the list. For Dee’s sake, and for my mother’s, I really hoped neither of them was guilty.

  Another thing about sitting in a waiting room is the gossip one hears, despite the effort to ignore it. I got an earful, and not the direction I wanted. Two teenage girls sat across the aisle from me, oblivious to the fact that they weren’t the only ones in the room. Each had a cell in hand, attached by earbuds to their heads. They roared loud enough to wake the dead each time they found, read, or heard something interesting enough to share. Within moments of my arrival, I knew their names, their friends’ names, and ‘Chastity’s’ shoe size.

  The younger girl, Sierra, on the right, talked the most. Her older sister, Chastity, talked less, but with more import. Half an hour into Mother’s appointment, I tossed aside the magazine I held on my lap. I tried to glare at the girls, but they ignored me. Oh, for a copy of Continental Geographic.

  And then I heard it. Jennifer Garfield’s name. Chastity spoke, and I, one of the uninitiated, couldn’t tell if she addressed her sister, or someone on the other side of her phone. Not the least of which is because her sister held her own conversations, too. And all the while, they tap-tap-tapped continual messages to yet other friends, even while talking to each other!

  “Jennifer Garfield… blah… blah… blah.” At this point, I perked up my ears, not knowing what I’d missed. “Mm-hmm. I know. She skipped school. Well, I heard that, too.”

  What? What had she heard? I wanted to yell, but continued listening, instead.

  “She said she’d do anything for him.”

  “Anything?” Sierra stopped tapping, and bobbing her head to what I figured must be music.

  “Anything.”

  “Like murder?”

  “Well, I s’pose so,” Chastity went back to her tapping again. “Yep. That’s what May heard. Jennifer said she’d kill his wife. ‘Cause he was hers, or something like that.”

  Good Lord! Had I really heard what I thought I heard? That the teenage rumor mill had it that Jennifer threatened to kill Mrs. Wilson?

  When Mother entered the waiting room some minutes later, I listened to her glowing report about her perfect eyesight with half an ear. She opened her purse to pay her cost share. She unzipped every zipper. Looked through every slot. Holy Cow, what kind of creation was that purse? Finally, she’d found her money and had everything back in its place. I grabbed her arm, and practically dragged her outside.

  “Mother,” I said. “You wouldn’t believe what I heard.”

  “What could you possibly hear, Raymond. It’s an eye doctor.” She pointed at the sign beside the door.

  “I know,” I agreed. “But, still, I heard the most amazing thing. Jennifer threatened to kill Mrs. Wilson.”

  Mother sighed. “Poor Dee. Do you think the Sheriff knows?”

  “Probably. It makes the case stronger against her.”

  We drove straight home and pounded on the Garfield’s front door. We’d gotten Dee out of the way, quite unintentionally, so the girl was home alone.

  Mother didn’t pull any punches. The second Jennifer opened the door, she lit into her. “Jennifer Garfield, why ever would you say those things?” She stopped short, allowing the girl to come to her own conclusions. And she did. She burst into tears.

  “Oh, Mrs. M…” she said between huge sobs. “I don’t know why I did. Except that I was so in l… l… love with him.”

  Mother continued, much more gently. “You were involved with him?”

  Jennifer nodded, shame burning bright on her face and neck. “Ah, girl,” I said. “It’s not your fault. It’s his. He’s old enough to know better.”

  “I knew better, too,” she said. But I knew how easy it is for a girl to fall for a sophisticated guy. Especially an older one.

  “Why would you say that?” Mother continued, again letting Jennifer fill in the blank.

  “He said he loved me, too. That he loved me more than his wife. But he was married to her, and wouldn’t ever leave h
er. So, I… I got mad. I said…” She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “I said I would kill her.”

  “You told your friends?” I knew the answer, of course. It had, no doubt, spread through the school like wildfire.

  She nodded miserably.

  “And the sheriff knows?”

  She nodded again.

  “Jennifer,” Mother peered into the girl's eyes with her newly recertified 20/20 vision. “Did you kill Mrs. Wilson?”

  “No.”

  Mother and I looked at each other over her head. Time for a trip to the school.

  ❃ ❃ ❃

  Mother and I hopped back into the Jeep, and headed up to the school. If we were quick, we could get into the office before it closed. Even on a Saturday, some member of the office staff stood duty because of detention. I’d had my own fair share of Saturday duty in Baltimore… from the kid side of the desk. I didn’t share that with Mother. Somehow I thought Earl and Emma didn’t see as much of it as I had. Even if they’d been sentenced to serve, I think Mother would have gotten them off. She was a frightening lady.

  The chain was half wrapped, ready to be locked into place around the front door handles. The school guard saw us coming, and got out of Mother’s way. “Mrs. M,” he said. Retired lunchroom ladies apparently command a lot of respect among their former students.

  I followed in her wake. We swept into the office. Mother strode, in her purposeful way, toward the single open door behind the counter. Vice Principal, it read.

  “Jane!” The room’s occupant dropped her feet off the desk. My mother glared. “Er… Mrs… Ms… Marple?” She glanced at me as if for confirmation.

  “You know Raymond?” Mother gestured toward me.

  “Yes, of course.” Patsy Daniels said, dismissing me with a half wave-like gesture. “We met at the Gringo.”

  Her hair wasn’t in much better shape than it had been before, I noticed. And her clothing was mussed. I’d expected much more of a Vice Principal. Apparently, Mother did too, as her gaze traveled disdainfully over Patsy.

  “Can I help you?” Patsy attempted to take charge of the interview. But, she also tried to take control of her appearance, smoothing her hand over her blouse, and through her hair.

  I’d expected much more.

  “Yes, I believe you can,” Mother said. She raised her purse in that funny, two handed, shield-like way she’d developed. Like the character she mimicked.

  Patsy raised her eyebrows in question, sat, and gestured for us to sit. So, we did.

  “I would like to know what you’ve heard about Jennifer Garfield,” Mother said.

  Patsy began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t discuss…”

  “Be still,” Mother shook her own head in one sharp movement, and Patsy did. “Now, what we want to know has nothing to do with the girl’s grades. We want to know about her… social life.”

  Jennifer hadn’t been forthcoming. We knew she’d had a relationship with Mr. Wilson. We now knew that she’d threatened Mrs. Wilson. But, beyond that, we knew nothing.

  Patsy stayed far away from any Wilson gossip. Instead, she named off a few friends. Chastity, of eye doctor fame, caught my attention. And another girl with an odd sounding name. Tinsel something or other.

  My mother, of course, had her own agenda, and forced it onto Patsy Daniels. “What about the nurse?”

  Patsy nearly swallowed her tongue, and spluttered for several moments. I jumped up and grabbed a water bottle I’d seen on the counter in the main office. Patsy took a huge swig, and choked out a thanks. She waved the bottle towards me, almost like it was a beer, and she was saluting with it.

  She clearly misunderstood Mother, because, as soon as she was able, she went into a long diatribe on her dislike of Warren Wilson. She ended with a nearly unmistakable accusation against the good doctor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sunday dawned. Not early, not sunny, not bright. And I didn’t wake up at the crack thereof. But, the boom of thunder yanked me from my sleep. One of those sudden, drenching, desert downpours hit us. Then a banging began in earnest. Hail the size of golf balls, or maybe only dimes, bounced against the house, and off cars parked on the street. Cars? The Jeep! I leaped out of bed, and pulled on my jeans. One leg in, the other part way, and hopping around like a madwoman, when I remembered I’d parked it in the garage. Thank God. Still, once my pants were up, I trotted into the kitchen, pulled aside the curtain and peered out at the drive. Yep. No Jeep. It was safe under cover.

  Mother strolled into the kitchen. “Ah, you’re awake,” she said. “The good vicar will be expecting us for church.”

  “I’m not going out in that.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder.

  “Oh, Raymond,” she said. “You haven’t lost your faith, have you?”

  “Nope, none to lose” I said. “I wasn’t aware that you had any, either.”

  She straightened her back and bored her blue eyes into mine. “I am a God-fearing woman, Raymond. A lifelong member of our Episcopal Church.”

  I tilted my head sideways, and threw her a questioning look. “Nah, Mother. You’re Catholic, always have been.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I don’t know what’s got into you.”

  Banging at the door saved the day. Maria had arrived to haul Mother to church. I had the morning to myself, and I used it wisely. I went back to bed.

  ❃ ❃ ❃

  When I awoke the second time on Sunday morning, Mother and Maria had returned. They sat in the living room, Mother in her chair, and Maria on the couch. Each had a cup of hot tea, and a cookie.

  “Good morning, Raymond.” Mother glared at me, judgmentally.

  “Or is it afternoon?” I wise-cracked. Neither of them smiled.

  I padded in, grabbed a cookie, and flopped onto a hard black chair. If I was going to hang around, I needed a more comfortable chair for myself. More like Mother’s.

  “The ladies will be here soon,” Mother said. “Behave yourself.”

  “Sure.”

  “We like to play Solitaire after church,” Maria said.

  I nodded halfheartedly, but I had nowhere to go. As each lady arrived, she brought her deck of cards, and laid out her hand. I brought in extra tea and cookies… er… biscuits. As each arrived, the atmosphere grew ever more electric, as if the morning’s storm had settled in the room. Finally, Paisley Jones, the last to arrive, had set up her cards and taken her first sip of tea.

  “Well?” Mother, knitting needles in hand, addressed the room in general. “Is there news to share? As for Raymond and myself, we learned little of note.” I looked across the table at Dee, and realized Mother was sparing her feelings. After all, the only thing we’d discovered pointed directly to her granddaughter.

  Paisley giggled. “We certainly did our job.”

  Dee harrumphed, but added to her compatriot’s opening. “After we left here, we drove out to Jeanine’s house. But she didn’t come home until late. So we didn’t bother her. Then, yesterday, Paisley remembered that Jeanine likes to go to the library on Saturday mornings. So, we went, too.”

  “She was there,” Paisley interrupted. She wriggled in her chair, barely able to contain her excitement. She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “We pretended to look at the books, but we weren’t, not really. We were watching her.”

  “What did you do?” Donna held a hand to her chest.

  “I looked at the front of her book through the shelves,” Dee said. “It was a gardening book. So we each got one, too. A gardening book, I mean.”

  “That makes sense,” I said, and leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms. Maria nodded in agreement.

  “So then,” Paisley said, “we sat next to her, one on each side.” Now, that wasn’t inconspicuous, I thought. “We started talking to her about gardens, and flowers. She’s in the flower club! Did you girls know?”

  Everyone seemed surprised, and chattered, off-topic, for a few minutes. Finally, Mother cleared her thro
at, and the room quieted. “Go on,” she said.

  “She admitted it,” Dee said. “She said she’d gone to T or C with the doctor.” I wondered how they’d gotten that out of her, but didn’t get a chance to ask. The ladies broke into oohs, and ah’s, and immediately shifted the conversation to Maria and Donna’s assignment.

  “That’s nothing!” Donna burst out, over the hubbub. “Maria had a hard time tracking down the doctor.” I couldn’t believe Maria had kept it to herself all morning, but she still wore a secretive grin on her face.

  “We had a stake out,” Maria said. “In my car.”

  “Donuts, and coffee, and everything,” Donna said. She tossed her hair, then smoothed her hand down her curvaceous side. “And I love donuts.”

  We all giggled.

  “He didn’t come home, either,” Maria said.

  “Ooh,” everyone responded. Whether they’d been together hadn’t been established, but the tone made it clear that’s what the girls believed.

  “We ran into him this morning,” Donna said. “Right after early church. Before the rain.”

  “He came out from mass.”

  “But, he’s not Catholic. He goes to the Baptist Church.” Donna stared us all down. “I should know, my brother is the pastor. That’s where I go… when I go.”

  “Then why, ever, would he go to the Catholic Church?” I couldn’t figure that one out, and tossed it to the group.

  “Maybe he had something heavy weighing on his mind,” Maria suggested.

  “Something he didn’t want to share with his own pastor,” Mother added.

  “Hmm,” we all said in unison.

  “But how did you approach him? What did he say?” Dee demanded an answer.

  “Oh.” Maria deflated. “We waited for him at his car. And then we just asked him.”

  “I said we knew he was carrying on with Nurse Pryor,” Donna said. “He couldn’t disagree without outright lying.” She slid around in her chair to face Dee. “I’m sorry, honey. He admitted to being in T or C with Jeanine the night of the murder.”

  “That does it, then,” I said. “They’ve given each other a solid alibi.”