‘Meaning?’ Jules challenged as he poured himself a glass of water from the tap.
‘Meaning Augusta went to Bon Secours St Mary’s Hospital the night before the benefit. If she had called the emergency line of her doctor’s office first, she would have been referred to VCU.’
‘Clever,’ Jules purred. ‘Pretty soon we’ll see you as the detective in one of those made-for-cable murder mysteries.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Tish opined. ‘I probably drink too much wine. And say the word “hell” far too often.’
‘Wait,’ Jules pulled a face, ‘I thought that was me.’
‘Where’d you think I picked up those habits?’ Tish winked, much to Jules’s amusement.
‘Oh, you guys,’ Mary Jo sighed, as if trying to corral her teenage children. ‘What I want to know is how did Binnie find out about the rape? It’s not like her husband would have told her.’
‘While cleaning up her late husband’s things, Binnie found his journal. In it, he described the guilt he felt for attacking Augusta. Apparently, his frat brothers put him up to “trying it on” with a black girl. Although Augusta never told him about the pregnancy, when his frat brothers told him about her absence during the fall semester and her reappearance in the spring, Ashton Broderick wondered if he might not have accomplished more than just “trying it on.” A woman as well connected as Binnie only had to place a few select phone calls to discover the fate of Augusta’s child.’
‘Wow!’ Mary Jo shook her head. ‘Could you imagine being Binnie Broderick and finding something like that? Poor thing.’
‘It must have been a devastating discovery, to be certain, but any sympathy I might have felt for that “poor thing” would have evaporated the moment she used the information to intimidate Augusta Wilson into dropping her complaint about the book purging.’
‘You’re right, of course. But what if Binnie Broderick hadn’t always been so mean? What if she always knew something was wrong with her husband? What if this wasn’t the only case of assault in Ashton Broderick’s background? That could easily take its toll on both the marriage and Binnie herself.’
‘I admire your determination to give people the benefit of the doubt,’ Tish commended Mary Jo. ‘And I agree that there were probably other issues between Binnie and her husband. However, there’s a big difference between harboring bitterness about one’s betrayal of trust and committing emotional extortion.’
‘What a pair,’ Jules lamented, clicking his tongue. ‘As much as I may complain about my folks, Cordelia must have had it rough.’
‘Cordelia,’ Tish mused. ‘Yes, I might need to check in on her again. Just to see if she knew about any of this.’
‘You think Binnie might have told her daughter that her father was a rapist?’ Mary Jo was skeptical.
‘Maybe. By all accounts, Cordelia and Binnie were quite close. It’s not like either of them had many friends in whom to confide.’
‘So what will it be this time?’ Jules posed. ‘You’ve already given away Finnegan’s Cake and madeleines – which were a hit with the news guys, by the way.’
‘Hmm, tomorrow’s Monday. Cordelia’s grieving. Augusta’s probably talking to Edwin as we speak and the two of them will then tell the police. It sounds as though we need something substantial, doesn’t it? Like sandwiches,’ Tish offered, still thinking of the lunch she had never consumed. By the time she had finished with Augusta, the fish she had left on the counter was at room temperature and most likely unsafe to eat.
‘Oooh, I could charge more for sandwiches.’ Jules rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
‘They’d also be great marketing tools. You know, teasers for your café menu,’ Mary Jo suggested.
‘Good idea.’ Tish jolted out of her seat and took a pad of paper and a pen from a kitchen drawer. Returning to the table, she began to scribble a list. ‘Let’s see … three varieties of sandwiches should suffice, don’t you think?’
‘Any more than that and people can’t decide,’ Jules warned.
‘We’ll start with a veggie option. The Rudyard Kipling. Curried hummus with cumin-spiced roasted red peppers served in a pita with arugula. Then there’s the Zelda Fitzgerald.’
‘Oh, something decadent and naughty, no doubt.’
‘Pimento cheese and sliced fried chicken breast on a buttermilk biscuit.’
‘Pimento cheese and fried chicken? That’s crazy.’
Tish looked up from her pad of paper and pointed a finger at her friend. ‘Exactly.’
Mary Jo laughed. ‘Leave it to you.’
‘And, finally, the Animal Farm sandwich,’ Tish announced.
Jules and Mary Jo exchanged questioning glances as they awaited a description. ‘OK, we give up,’ Mary Jo declared.
‘In theory, a variety of luncheon meats in equal parts; in practice, just a plain ol’ ham sandwich. With condiments, of course.’ Tish grinned.
‘Zelda isn’t the only crazy one.’ Jules giggled. ‘You don’t really want me to use those names and descriptions when I sell them tomorrow, do you?’
‘Of course she does,’ Mary Jo insisted. ‘That’s how people will know what to order when the café opens.’
‘OK. OK. I’ll print out the names tonight and stand them by the stacks of sandwiches. We’re going to have to hit the store before they close, though. Your refrigerator’s pretty bleak.’
‘Bleak doesn’t even begin to describe it.’ Tish’s stomach growled. ‘I can pop out to Publix with you right now if you want, but I need to be back here well before six.’
Mary Jo raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Why? What’s going on at six o’clock?’
‘I’m meeting Schuyler Thompson for dinner,’ Tish spat out before her brain could even estimate the consequence of her words.
‘A date?’ Mary Jo and Jules exclaimed in unison.
‘No. I’m going to see if Schuyler can shed any further light on Binnie’s death and Doctor Livermore’s shooting.’
‘I have no doubt that the fine Mr Thompson can illuminate a great many things,’ Jules teased.
‘Ugh, here we go.’ Tish sighed.
‘Hey, you can’t blame us. We’re simply excited to see you back in the dating game again,’ Mary Jo explained.
‘I’m not dating,’ Tish maintained. ‘I was about to call Schuyler to arrange a time to meet and discuss … everything going on … but he beat me to it.’
‘So, wait, he called you?’ Jules asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
‘Settle down, will you? Yes, he called me. He’d heard about the shooting and wanted to make sure I was OK.’
‘Ohhh,’ Mary Jo and Jules sang.
Tish flung her head back and covered her eyes with her hands. ‘He was just being a decent human being.’
‘A decent human being who asked you out for dinner on a Sunday.’ Jules folded his arms across his chest as if he had won his case with a single statement.
Tish narrowed her eyes. ‘Yes?’
‘Hello? It’s Sunday. He could have taken the brunch route. Fun, but less committal, less chance for romance. Instead, he invited you out for dinner. Dinner means he plays for keeps.’
Mary Jo nodded her head. ‘Truth.’
‘Truth? How do you know?’ Tish playfully balled up a paper napkin and lobbed it at Mary Jo’s forehead. ‘You haven’t dated in nearly twenty years.’
Mary Jo caught the napkin ball. ‘I may be married, but I’ll have you know that I read Allure and Red Book every time I have my hair done. Oh, and I also check out Kayla’s Teen Vogue from time to time.’ With that, she threw the ball back at Tish, hitting her directly in the cleavage.
‘Teen Vogue? Well, then, please accept my apologies for doubting your credentials. Now I know the next time I have dating questions or I’m simply in a state of alarm over the future of the Justin Bieber/Selena Gomez relationship, I can call upon you for guidance.’
‘Ladies, ladies. There are more important things to discuss,’ Jul
es called his friends to order. ‘Like, what are you wearing tonight?’
Tish looked down at her Capri pants and flip-flops. ‘This. I was going to freshen my make-up, of course.’
‘Is this dinner out or your kids’ soccer game?’
‘Ouch! OK, OK. I’ll wear something else. But, first’ – Tish raised her left hand in superhero style – ‘to the grocery store.’
SEVENTEEN
IT’S NOT A DATE!
Julian Jefferson Davis cackled maniacally at Tish’s most recent text message.
‘You shouldn’t torment her like that,’ Mary Jo scolded in motherly fashion from behind the driver’s wheel of her SUV. ‘Particularly right now. She’s either driving or on her way into the restaurant.’
‘It’s not like I forced her to answer me,’ Jules replied in his defense.
‘Yeah, but you know she can’t help herself.’
Jules’s phone suddenly chimed. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘It’s Tish. Oh, wait … it is a date. Whoo-hoo! I knew it!’
Mary Jo reached over to the passenger seat and gave Jules a high five. ‘So now that that issue’s been resolved, you mind telling me why we’re heading to the rec park instead of staying at the café to make sandwiches?’
‘I figured since baby bird has flown the nest for the evening, mama and papa bird would do some detective work.’
‘OK, first off, I already have a papa bird at home. I need another one like a blind man needs sunglasses. Second, detective work at the rec park?’
‘Mayor Whitley is there to open the new skate park. The dedication starts at six,’ Jules answered excitedly.
‘Lovely. Greg and Kayla and their friends will be some of the first to check it out, I’m sure. But what does the new skate park have to do with us or the case?’
‘Nothing at all. But the opening will give us a chance to ask the mayor some questions about Binnie Broderick and why he was about to pardon her for the book purge.’
‘And don’t forget Doctor Livermore,’ Mary Jo reminded him. ‘Oh hey, maybe the mayor was his patient.’
‘Good call, MJ. I’d never even given that a thought, but it’s quite possible.’
‘Motherhood hasn’t rendered me completely crazy. At least not yet. Problem is, this is a public event. How on earth are you going to ask anything about the book scandal or the murder without the mayor’s handler escorting you, or the mayor, away?’
‘Simple.’ Jules produced a set of passes suspended on red lanyards. ‘VIP passes to get us to the front of the crowd. There’s one for each of us.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ Mary Jo exclaimed.
‘How soon you forget that I work in a newsroom and, therefore, have connections.’
‘I do sometimes. Sorry. How did you manage to get them so quickly?’
‘Oh, I bribed Sarah, our admin person with free madeleines and coffee. She called a bestie of hers at the mayor’s office and voilà!’
Mary Jo flashed him a distrusting look.
‘What? Oh, please! Don’t worry, I put the money in the till for coffee and madeleines,’ Jules insisted. ‘I wouldn’t steal stuff from Tish’s café. Except for the few madeleines I may have eaten, of course. There was, however, just one little teensy lie involved.’
‘Oh no …’
‘I told Sarah that I wanted the passes for you because you’re a devoted parent who wanted the mayor’s ear to discuss other youth-oriented projects. Sarah has kids so she completely understood your concern. She wished you luck.’
‘Jules,’ Mary Jo sang.
‘It was all for the greater good. The mayor’s office isn’t open until tomorrow morning. By the time Tish called and made an appointment, she wouldn’t have gotten in to see him until Tuesday at the earliest. And that’s if she was lucky.’
‘You’re assuming we’re just as lucky and that we’ll learn something useful this evening.’
‘Oh, we will learn something, honey. We will,’ Jules avowed as the SUV pulled into the rec-center parking lot. ‘I’m not giving up until we do. Now let’s go ferret out the truth. Oh, and bring something you can film with.’
‘What?’ Mary Jo panicked.
‘Well, I’m going to be doing the questioning. I can’t film at the same time.’
‘I have my iPad.’ Mary Jo remembered having the device in her purse.
‘Perfect! Let’s go.’
Mary Jo pulled the car keys from the ignition and threw them into the side pocket of her oversized handbag before reaching an arm into the main compartment of the bag to retrieve her iPad. As she fumbled to extract the gadget, she simultaneously jogged to keep up with Jules while also endeavoring to keep her silver slip-on sandals fixed to her feet. Had she known there would be physical activity involved in the day’s schedule, she’d have changed into a pair of running shoes and capris instead of visiting the café in her Sunday best.
Mary Jo, her shoes and dignity intact, finally caught up with Jules as he introduced himself to Mayor Whitley’s burly, dark-suit-clad handler. Jules flashed his VIP pass and was admitted to the front of the makeshift outdoor briefing room that had been erected on the edge of the skate park.
Mary Jo followed Jules’s lead and flashed her pass to the handler. After a search of her bag and a scan of her iPad, she was waved through to join Jules and the smattering of other local journalists and political supporters gathered approximately twenty feet away from the center podium.
‘Shall I start filming now?’ Mary Jo whispered in Jules’s ear.
‘No,’ Jules answered in a soft voice. ‘Not until the Q and A session. I don’t want to record Whitley’s boring speech.’
‘But he’s bound to say something about Binnie’s murder and Livermore’s shooting this morning,’ Mary Jo stated. ‘It might be interesting to capture how he handles the situation.’
Jules heaved a long and particularly heavy sigh. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’
‘Of course I’m right.’ Mary Jo was matter-of-fact. ‘By the way, since when does a small-town mayor need a handler, a Lincoln, and VIP passes?’
‘Since said small-town mayor is a shoo-in to be elected to the next Virginia General Assembly this fall.’ As Jules scratched his chin, a sudden gleam came into his eye. ‘Unless, of course, through sharp, focused questioning, I discover that Mayor Whitley was involved in both Binnie Broderick’s death and Doctor Livermore’s shooting.’
‘Yeah, well, even more reason to record the speech. To capture your sharp, focused questioning in action. You know, in case you want to quote from the video footage or something. For a lead story. Or an op-ed. Like journalists do.’
‘That’s brilliant.’ Jules finally got the hint. ‘But stop the camera and start it again before the Q and A so that I don’t have to wade through the speech to get to the good stuff.’
Mary Jo was about to point out that, technically speaking, the speech was, insofar as Jules’s job as a journalist was concerned, the ‘good stuff,’ but Mayor Whitley’s aide came to the podium before she had the opportunity.
The aide introduced the head of the skate park, a thirty-something man dressed in board shorts, a bright tropical-printed shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and flip-flops. After a brief round of applause, the man in the cap gave some background on how and why the concept of the skate park came about and named the people responsible for the funding, design, and build of the space. He then welcomed Mayor Whitley to the podium and stepped aside.
If the skate park founder looked outrageously casual for an opening ceremony, the mayor looked unduly conservative for an event on an early Sunday evening at a small-town park in the middle of August. Dressed in his standard navy suit, light-blue shirt, red tie and black dress shoes, Jarrod Whitley approached the podium with slicked-back auburn hair and a broad smile, and proceeded to deliver a thirty-minute speech that rambled between such subjects as the skate park, the values of today’s youth, how his term as mayor had improved the local economy
, how the improved economy had enabled the skate park funding, the need for donations for December’s holiday light display, and, finally, a reminder that last year’s Santa was retiring.
As Whitley droned on, Mary Jo struggled both to stay awake and to keep the iPad steady. Her eyelids were about to droop when she felt Jules’s right index finger poke her in the shoulder.
Mary Jo improved her posture and did her best to look alert, but Jules’s shoulder tap wasn’t meant to awaken her: it was to draw her attention to the back of the crowd. There, behind the rows of occupied wooden folding chairs, a female figure could be seen furtively peeking over the shoulders of standing spectators.
Mary Jo sifted through her memory to put a name to the woman’s face, but did not succeed. As if on cue, Jules whispered, ‘Cordelia Ballantyne.’
The figure vanished as quickly as it had materialized, leaving Mary Jo and Jules to turn their attention back to the mayor’s speech, which was, thankfully, and awkwardly, drawing to a close.
‘And in closing,’ Jarrod Whitley stated, ‘I’d like to thank all of you for being here today. Now skate – er, I mean, board. Um, skateboard? Skateboard on!’
From the looks on the faces in the audience, it was doubtful the mayor’s speech was going to garner much in the way of applause, but Jules still wasted no time in stepping forward lest the moment get away from him. ‘Mayor Whitley! Mayor Whitley, you’ve made no reference at all to the murder of Lavinia Broderick or the shooting of Doctor Livermore, two of Hobson Glen’s most prominent citizens. Would you care to comment on the situation?’
Despite the look of surprise upon his face, Mayor Whitley responded in a timely fashion. ‘I was saddened to hear of, first, Lavinia Broderick’s passing, and then the mortal wounding of Doctor Roger Livermore this morning. I have expressed my condolences to both families and I trust that the Hobson Glen Police Department is running a thorough investigation to find the perpetrator of these terrible crimes.’
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