“That’s good to know,” I said. “Have you gotten any hints that Junior is thinking that way?”
“Not a one,” he said almost regretfully. “Junior has been holding her cards pretty close to her chest with this case.”
I didn’t blame her, considering how politically ticklish it was; but since I knew she wouldn’t talk to us while Linwood was a suspect, I sure wished she had let something slip in front of Burt.
By then, I had the file copied, and after making sure everything was back where I’d found it, we headed back downstairs.
I thought about suggesting a more circumspect exit, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Anybody who hadn’t seen us arrive would have heard about it by then anyway—the mill may not make socks as well as it used to, but it’s still good at manufacturing gossip.
Chapter 23
After Burt left us back at our car, I said, “Richard, tell me that wasn’t as big a waste of time as I think it was.”
“Of course it was, at least as far as getting anything out of Burt goes. But now we’ve got the information on the Saunders.”
“Go ahead and look at it, and please find something we can use.”
“I’ll try.” Richard flipped through the file as best he could in the dark on the way home, but said he didn’t see anything that jumped out at him. I was hoping that we’d have better luck at Aunt Maggie’s, where we could examine it more thoroughly, but it turned out that we didn’t get a chance to look until much later. As we came in the front door, we found Aunt Maggie waiting for us, sitting on the living room couch with her arms folded tightly over her chest.
“Hey, Aunt Maggie,” I said hesitantly, wondering what she was so mad about.
“Have y’all got a minute? I want to talk to you.”
“Sure,” I said.
Richard casually folded the copies into a thick packet and slipped it into his back pocket as we sat down on the couch.
“I just got a call from Floyd Cabiniss,” Aunt Maggie said.
I remembered that Cabiniss was the one who’d spoken so emotionally against the buyout, and nodded.
She went on. “Floyd’s on the night shift, and he said he saw you two up there just now with Burt Walters.”
Damn! Why couldn’t Burt have been more careful?
Aunt Maggie said, “Y’all want to tell me what that’s all about?”
I looked at Richard, but he shrugged, putting the ball back in my court. “It’s kind of confidential.”
“I see,” she said, kicking her foot back and forth. “Then can you tell me again why it is y’all decided to come visit all of a sudden?”
“Since when do we need an excuse to come visit?” I said, trying to make it sound light, but knowing I was failing miserably.
“Y’all are welcome to visit anytime y’all want, but this isn’t just a visit, is it?”
I couldn’t lie to her. “Not exactly,” I said.
“That’s what I thought. You two have been running all over town ever since you got here.” She held up one hand. “Don’t bother telling me you were just visiting people. You don’t generally visit Hank Parker or Alton Brown, do you?”
“No, ma’am.” I wondered who had seen us at the Gazette and the bank, but it didn’t really matter. The only reason Byerly’s grapevine is slower than the mill’s is because there’s more distance involved.
“Then let me see if I’ve got this straight. Y’all come into town unexpectedly, right when this whole mill buyout comes up. And you’ve been going to see all kinds of other people, asking questions. Then you go off for a secret meeting with Burt Walters. Now I know you two have spent right much time solving problems before, but that was for the family. You’re not doing this for the family, are you?”
We were, at least partially, but I couldn’t tell her that without betraying Aunt Edna’s confidence. “Marshall Saunders was murdered, Aunt Maggie,” I said, not answering her directly.
“Were you talking to Burt Walters about that man’s murder?”
“Yes, ma’am, we were,” I said, grateful for the chance to tell the truth without hesitation.
She kicked her foot once or twice. “That’s all you were talking about? Nothing about the buyout?”
“It might be connected,” I said lamely.
“And you still say you don’t have an opinion about the buyout?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t have an opinion.” That was the truth, too, but I didn’t think she believed it.
She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just kicked some more. “Laurie Anne, do you have any idea of what life for people at the mill was like before the union came? It used to be, if you took sick or had some other reason you couldn’t come to work for more than a day or two, Big Bill Walters would fire you, no matter what the reason was. When things got tight at the mill, he’d send people home early and dock their pay without a second thought—what did he care if you had bills to pay and children to feed? If you complained, he’d fire you for that. You know why? Because he could. Because nobody made him do the right thing.
“Then the union men came to town. At first, almost nobody took them seriously. Big Bill pure out laughed at them—he didn’t even bother to fire the first folks who joined up. Well, your grandfather and I were among those first members, Laurie Anne. We knew the union could help if we gave it a chance.
“The union leaders tried to get Big Bill to treat us workers like decent human beings, but he wouldn’t listen, so they called the first strike to show him that they meant business. It was just for one day, but even so, it was hard to get people to go along with it. When we finally got enough people to stay out that Big Bill couldn’t afford to fire us all, he realized that he was going to have to deal with the union, one way or another. That’s when it got nasty.
“The first thing Big Bill did was to hire men from out of town to break up the union meetings. We were at the Baptist church when a dozen thugs broke in carrying ax handles and wearing brass knuckles. We were in a house of God, but that didn’t bother them a bit. They told us that if we didn’t clear out right that minute, we’d be sorry.
“Some of the folks started to go, but your grandfather stood up and told those men that we had rights, that nobody was going to stop us.
“They hadn’t expected that, and they didn’t like it. Their leader walked right up to Ellis. He was a big man, and you know Ellis wasn’t real tall. That man raised an ax handle over his head, and I thought sure I was going to see blood in the church that night, but Ellis reached up and took it right out of his hand. Then he used it to poke the man in the stomach so hard he fell right on the floor. I don’t know where Ellis learned how to do that, but it knocked the stuffing out of that man and rattled the whole crew. They got out of there as fast as they could, dragging the leader with them, because he couldn’t even walk.”
I smiled, thinking of Paw and how he must have looked.
“Don’t look too proud yet,” Aunt Maggie warned. “The next night, Big Bill told Ellis he had to stay late at the mill. By the time he got out, his car wouldn’t start, and there wasn’t anybody around to give him a lift, but it was a nice night, so he didn’t bother to call somebody to come get him. He just started walking home.
“Ellis should have been back in plenty of time for dinner, but he didn’t make it, so your grandmother called around and found out that he’d stayed late at the mill, and got us to go look for him. I’m the one who found him—I’d never seen so much blood in my life.”
I flinched, and Richard took my hand and gripped it tightly.
“Later on, he told me that when he was on his way home, a truck drove up and six or seven men jumped out. They were wearing masks, but he knew it was Walters’s thugs. They beat him like a dog, Laurie Anne, and left him on the side of the road as if he were so much garbage. When I first saw him, I thought sure he was dead, but we got him to the doctor, and he fixed him up and told us to keep him in bed for a week.
“That was
Friday night, and on Monday morning, Ellis was so bad off he could barely move, but he made me drive him to the mill. He knew word had gotten around about his beating, and he wanted people to see him and to know that he still supported the union. He wasn’t going to give Walters a chance to say he was laying out of work so he could fire him.”
“Big Bill Walters really had Paw beaten?” I asked, not wanting to believe it.
“I don’t know if Big Bill meant it to happen or not. The tale he told was that he just wanted those men to scare Ellis. He said he had no idea that they’d go so far, and he got rid of them right away. He paid Ellis’s doctor bill, too. Then he started talking to the union and realized it would cost more to hire scabs than it would to treat us right, so things settled down. And it all happened because your grandfather risked his life to get the union into the mill. Now his own granddaughter is working with people who want to break it. Do you know what your grandfather would say about that if he were here today?”
She wanted me to feel guilty, but what I felt was anger at the way she was trying to manipulate me. “I think I do, but I’m not sure you do.”
“Are you saying that you knew Ellis better than his own sister?” she said indignantly.
“Maybe I did, because I know darned well that Paw would never have tried to guilt me into doing what he wanted. He might not have agreed with every choice I ever made—heck, I know he didn’t. But he never tried to bully me, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to do.”
“I’ve got a right to—”
“You’ve got the right to do whatever you want,” I said, interrupting her, “but so do I. Maybe I haven’t told you the whole truth about what Richard and I have been doing, but I would think you’d trust me enough to know I’m not going to do anything to hurt this family. I’ve got reasons for keeping what I’m doing a secret. I’m pretty good at keeping other people’s secrets, too.” I gave her a long look, and without my saying anything more, she knew what I was talking about. The previous summer, Richard and I had solved a murder because Aunt Maggie had wanted us to, and in the process, had learned things she didn’t want anybody else to know. Just to make sure she got the message, I added, “You didn’t seem to have any problems trusting me when I was working for you.”
We glared at one another for a long time, and I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to stay that way, because it didn’t look as if she was going to back down, and I knew I wasn’t going to. But finally she admitted, “You might have a point there.”
“Does that mean you trust me to do what I have to do?”
She hesitated. “If you could tell me—”
I shook my head. “You either trust me, or you don’t. I know we didn’t see much of each other when I was young, but you know how I was raised, and you’ve had a chance to get to know me better these past few years. If you don’t trust me now, there’s nothing I can tell you that would change that.”
She looked me in the eye, but I didn’t flinch. “You’re right. I do trust you, Laurie Anne.”
I took a deep breath, suddenly unsure of how long it had been since the last one. “Thank you.”
“But people will talk. Floyd wasn’t the only one to see you at the mill, and other folks have seen the places you’ve been going and the people you’ve been seeing.”
“People in Byerly always talk,” I said. “I may as well give them something worth talking about.”
She shook her head. “You sound just like Ellis sometimes.”
“Thank you,” I said again, because I considered it a compliment. “Now if it’s going to be a problem for you, Richard and I can go stay someplace else.” Of course, if we stayed with any of the other Burnettes, they’d be in the same boat, so I added, “We could get a hotel room in Hickory.”
“Laurie Anne, have you ever known me to care about people talking? Would I dress the way I do if I gave a hoot about what people think?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way you dress,” I objected, though I avoided looking at the bright red sneakers with purple stripes she was wearing.
“Not a thing, but some people think there is, the same way some people might think there’s something wrong with you staying here. But this is your home, and nobody can say anything to change that.” She flashed a big grin. “Not even me.”
That’s when I was sure that things were going to be all right between us.
Chapter 24
Richard and I never got around to taking a closer look at the Saunders file that night—all the confrontations had worn us out. I would cheerfully have slept until noon the next day, but the phone rang considerably before that and woke me. I waited through six rings, hoping Aunt Maggie would answer it, but finally decided she’d gone out and dragged myself downstairs to get it.
“Burnette residence,” I said as politely as I could.
“This is Burt Walters. Could I speak to Laurie Anne Fleming, please?”
“This is Laura Fleming.”
“Miz Fleming! I’m glad I caught you. I realize you and your husband are on vacation, but I need your help.”
Finally I caught on to the fact that somebody must be close enough to hear him. Just in case whoever it was could hear me, too, I avoided saying anything compromising. “What can I help you with?”
“I understand that you’re quite the computer expert, and we have a problem over here that none of our people can solve.”
I didn’t laugh, but I was tempted. There were a few folks at the mill who could use computers, but only if told exactly what buttons to push. I once asked one of the finance people what kind of computer she had, and her answer was, “Beige.” I’ve never known if she was kidding or not. “What kind of problem?”
His voice grew solemn. “I imagine you know about Marshall Saunders’s death.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, Mr. Saunders had some important files on his computer, and we’re just not sure how to get to them. His wife is here with me, and we were wondering if you could come by and see if you could get into those those files for us, and perhaps print them out.”
“I could certainly try. Do you know what the problem is? Is it a crashed hard disk or a bad sector?”
There was dead silence on the other end of the line.
“Maybe it would be better for me to see for myself,” I said diplomatically.
“Do you suppose you could take a look this morning? Miz Saunders is very anxious for the information.”
“That’ll be fine. Just give me an hour or two to take care of a couple of things, and Richard and I will be over there.”
“I’ll leave word at the front desk that you’re expected.”
An hour and half later, I’d taken a shower, gotten Richard up and moving, made a quick stop at the Kmart, gone by Hardee’s to get biscuits for breakfast, and driven to the mill. As I told Richard, I was so delighted to get a chance at Marshall’s computer that I would almost have been willing to skip the biscuits.
The receptionist at the front door sent us on up toward Burt’s office, where Miss Hunsucker herself was waiting.
In all the years she’s been at the mill, neither I nor anybody in my family has ever seen Miss Hunsucker smile, so I wasn’t surprised that she looked disapproving today. Her mouse brown hair was tucked into a bun so tight that I was surprised she could move her face enough to frown, but she managed as she looked at her watch. In a tone that implied the enormity of our transgression, she said, “Mr. Walters has been waiting for you.”
“Good,” I said cheerfully. “Then we can get right to work.”
I’d say that her features froze in disapproval, but her features had apparently frozen in that configuration long before, and she radiated indignation as she led us to an ostentatious conference room next to Burt’s office. The cherrywood conference table was nearly big enough for all the Burnettes to eat Sunday dinner off of, and the chairs were plush enough to settle in for a long football game afterward. A window filled one wal
l, and though the curtains were drawn to keep the sun from fading the carpet, I knew it looked out onto the parking lot. Burt had been known to peek out to check and see if anybody was leaving work early.
Burt and Grace Saunders were sitting next to each other at one end of the table, Grace looking impatient while Burt looked uncomfortable.
For the first time since Burt had called me, it occurred to me that it was odd for Grace to be working so soon after her husband’s murder. She’d only found out about it the morning before, after all. True, she was wearing black, a new suit what was probably the nicest one that could be found around Byerly, but I wouldn’t have expected a woman in mourning to be worried about accessing computer files.
As soon as he saw us, Burt smiled widely and not terribly sincerely. “Here’s our computer expert. Didn’t I tell you she’d be right along?”
Grace looked at her watch, and had I not wanted to look at Marshall’s computer for my own reasons, I’d have been tempted to turn around and walk out. Still, I wasn’t about to apologize for taking less time to get there than I’d promised.
“Grace, you remember Laurie Anne Fleming and her husband Richard from the cookout the other day.”
“Of course,” Grace said, but I wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.
Burt said, “I’m useless here, so why don’t I leave y’all to take care of this?”
“Good enough,” Grace said. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
Burt kept smiling as he left the room, but something about the way his jaw tightened told me he wasn’t thrilled at being at somebody else’s beck and call. I felt sorry for him, but only a little. He’d had an awful lot of my family members at his beck and call for years—maybe it was time he got a taste of it for himself.
“Here’s the problem,” Grace said, turning to the top-of-the-line laptop on the conference table. It was already turned on and booted, with a program window showing, but the screen was mostly filled with a message box asking for a password.
“You don’t know your husband’s password?” I said.
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 06 - Death of a Damn Yankee Page 13
