Left Holding the Bag

by Carol Dean Jones

Bernice smiled. “That’s just what I need to get my mind off all this. What time shall we come?”

  “You can come home with me now, or we can get together later.”

  Bernice thought for a moment, then responded, “I think I’ll take a shower and rest for a while. I didn’t get much sleep last night. How about two o’clock?”

  “Sounds fine,” Sarah responded grabbing her jacket. “Sophie, I need to stop at your house and pick up Barney.”

  “I’ll walk you across the street,” Sophie responded as she grabbed her sweater.

  “And I’ll drive us to Sarah’s later,” Bernice said to Sophie, “thanks to your friend’s generosity and that beautiful Volvo in my driveway.”

  On the walk home, Sarah thought about Bernice and tried to understand what she might be feeling. She knew Bernice had taken her responsibilities to the boy very seriously and cared deeply for him, at least for the person she had hoped he could become. Sarah wondered how she would feel in the same situation.

  * * *

  “Sophie and Bernice just drove up,” Sarah called to her husband that afternoon.

  “Do you need me for anything?” he called back from the computer room.

  “No, I have us set up at the kitchen table, but I have coffee and cookies if you’re interested.”

  “I’ll come say hello,” he responded once she mentioned the cookies. He suspected they’d be the good ones since she made them for her friends.

  Charles wandered into the room once the women were settled, and his eyes immediately fell on the plate of cookies. He looked at his wife pleadingly.

  “Help yourself, but they’re not your fat-free ones, so don’t overdo it,” she responded to his implied question.

  Bernice had looked much better when she arrived. Apparently, the rest had helped her. Sarah noticed that Bernice was watching Charles tentatively as if she were debating about saying something. Finally, she said, “Charles, I’d like to ask you a question. When that detective called me last night to say that my car had been found, I felt that there was something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. I even asked him if there was more to it, but he just said that a detective would be getting back to me. Do you know anything more about this?”

  Charles was taken aback by the question and found himself speechless at first, but managed to formulate a fumbling response. “Well,” he began hesitantly, “I spoke with the Lieutenant this morning…and the guy you talked to was right. They’ll be sending a detective over to talk to you soon, perhaps tomorrow. I think that’s a good question for you to ask him.”

  Seeming satisfied, Bernice simply replied, “Well, that’s a relief.”

  That’s a relief? Sarah asked herself. He didn’t answer her question.

  Charles was glad that she had accepted his response so easily, but his relief was short-lived. When he looked up at his wife, he saw that she was frowning and looking puzzled. She knows that I just sidestepped the issue. She’s going to be none too pleased with me when she learns the whole story. Charles broke eye contact with his wife, took a deep breath, and said. “Okay, ladies, thanks for the cookies. I’m off to the computer room.”

  “What’s he doing in there?” Sophie asked.

  “I have no idea,” she responded as she tried to set her suspicions aside. “He spends hours on that computer, and I try to stay out of it. It’s usually some sort of police business. You know, he’s still putting in a few hours a week for his old unit.”

  Bernice was starting to make notes and obviously unaware of the previous tension, but Sarah was aware that Sophie was staring at her inquisitively. Sarah shook her head almost imperceptibly and said, “Okay ladies, let’s get our program on paper.”

  “I agree,” Bernice responded. “We’ll feel much better about it once we see it in black and white.”

  Sitting around the table, the three women began making final plans. They had previously decided on a short lecture about the history of feedsacks and how they were used during the first few decades of the twentieth century when fabric was scarce. “I’ll tell a little about the history and display the feedsacks I’m keeping intact,” Bernice said, “and Delores is going to loan me the items in her mother’s trunk, so we’ll have examples of some of the things women did with them. She has the two quilts we talked about using in my booth, a woman’s dress, several children’s items, dish towels, table cloths, and lots of aprons.”

  “Let’s spread them out on one of the tables,” Sophie suggested, “and invite the participants to come up and look at them.”

  “Good idea,” Bernice responded. “Also, I found several touching stories online that we could share. Would each of you be willing to tell one or two of the stories?”

  “Sure,” Sophie responded, looking mischievous, and Sarah knew she was already planning to be her colorful, flamboyant self. Sophie loves an audience.

  “You could ask for audience participation at that point as well,” Sarah suggested. “I’m sure many people will have memories to share.” Smiling at Bernice, she added, “This is going to make an excellent presentation.”

  “I’ll have lots of packets of precut pieces for them to look at too.”

  “Or buy?” Sophie suggested.

  “I don’t know if you should sell them during the presentation, or just refer them to your booth,” Sarah responded.

  “I like that better,” Bernice said, looking excited. “This is going to be fun.”

  Charles walked through the kitchen on his way to the garage and caught Sarah’s eye. He could sense her concern and felt like a heel for causing her distress.

  I’ll tell her what I know as soon as these women leave no matter what Matt says. This isn’t right.

  * * *

  The two women had just left and were chatting excitedly about their plans for the presentation as they headed down the walkway to Bernice’s loaner Volvo. “It looks like that went well,” Charles said as he helped Sarah gathered up the coffee cups, leftover cookies, and various accouterments.

  Sarah did not respond.

  “I think I’d like to stop in at the quilt show and see the presentation in person.”

  Sarah did not respond.

  Charles returned the cookies to the cookie jar, put the sugar bowl away, and turned to help Sarah load the cups and saucers into the dishwasher. She raised her head, looked him directly in the eye for the first time in the past few hours and firmly asked, “What’s going on, Charles?”

  Charles sighed. “I didn’t want it to go this way, Sarah, and this afternoon I realized Matt was wrong.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked coolly.

  “There has been a development which Matt and the police department are not releasing to the public. He swore me to secrecy, and I agreed. I’m sorry now, and I realize that was wrong. I should have told you and trusted that you would not reveal it to anyone.”

  “Yes, you should have…at least the part about trusting me. Charles, if this is something you think should be kept between you and the police department, I will accept that.” Her words were spoken more softly, but he could still see the hurt in her eyes.

  Charles pulled out a chair at the table and asked her to sit. He had brought the morning paper with him and reached for it as he sat down across from her. “Did you read the paper today?”

  “No, Bernice called early, and I rushed right over. What is it?

  He laid the paper in front of her and pointed to the article on the front page. “Councilman Waterford’s daughter was found murdered,” she read aloud.

  She unfolded the paper and looked at the picture of the lovely young girl. “Courtney,” Sarah said as she read more of the article. “Only seventeen. Oh, Charles, this is terrible,” she muttered. “I think there’s a son too.” She read on. “Yes, Steven. He’s only thirteen. This is very sad.”

  Looking up at Charles she asked, “Do they know who did it?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to y
ou about.”

  Sarah looked confused at first, but then her eyes grew wide open. “Wait. This is why you started acting so strange when Bernice asked you if there was something the police weren’t telling her.” Looking back at the paper, she added, “and this girl was found in Tennessee too. Charles, what’s going on?” Sarah cried.

  “She was found in the trunk of Bernice’s car,” he responded.

  Sarah covered her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Did they find Darius too?”

  “No.”

  “But they are looking for him for her murder?”

  “I think so.”

  “This will kill Bernice.” She remained quiet for a few minutes, absorbing the whole thing. Then she added softly, “I see why you didn’t tell me, Charles. I understand. I want to run right to Bernice, but I know I can’t.”

  “You can when she knows,” he responded. “The detective that’s going to see her in the morning will be telling her. You might want to be there. In fact,” Charles added, “maybe we should both be there.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Charles stood and walked around the table to embrace his wife.

  “I’m sorry I got so snippy with you, Charles. I should have trusted that you had a good reason.”

  “And I should have trusted you with the information. I guess we learned something today.”

  Chapter 9

  “What are you folks doing on my doorstep at this early hour?” Bernice exclaimed cheerfully the next morning when she opened the door to find Sarah and Charles standing there. “I don’t want to be rude, but that annoying officer is on his way over right now, so I can’t invite you in, but if you go over to Sophie’s, I’ll be right over as soon as he leaves.” Sarah saw that Bernice was still feeling the excitement generated the previous afternoon as they firmed up their plans for the show. It broke her heart to know what was in store for her new friend.

  “We’d like to be here when the officer arrives, Bernice,” Charles said in a solemn tone which she immediately detected.

  “Have they found Darius?” she asked, her smile morphing into a worried frown.

  “No,” Charles replied simply, “but I think we need to be with you.”

  She nodded and stepped back, motioning for them to come in just as a police car pulled up in front of the house. Sarah saw that Sophie’s curtains were drawn aside. She knew Sophie should be with them, but Charles had said they would include her as soon as the officer left.

  “Detective,” the officer said nodding his acknowledgment of Charles as he entered the house. The young officer had met Charles at the station the previous day.

  “Good morning,” Charles replied. “We are just here as friends, and my wife and I will wait in the kitchen while you talk to Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “No,” Bernice exclaimed. “I want you two here. “What is it, officer?”

  The officer was offered a seat but chose to stand so Charles did as well but moved to the far side of the room. Sarah sat in a chair near him. “Mrs. Jenkins, you were told yesterday that your car had been located…”

  “That’s right,” she responded with a question mark in her voice.

  “What we weren’t able to tell you at the time, and I’d suggest that you sit down for this,” he added directing her to the couch. Bernice had a frightened look of anticipation on her face but followed his advice and sat.

  “What didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “We weren’t able to tell you at the time that there was a body found in the trunk.” Charles cringed at the officer’s lack of sensitivity.

  The blood drained from Bernice’s face, and she appeared to be about to faint. “Was it Darius?” she asked, grabbing her heart and looking pleadingly into the officer’s eyes.

  “No, no. sorry. It was a woman…” the officer stuttered and looked to Charles for help. “I didn’t mean…”

  Sarah rushed to Bernice’s side and wrapped her arms around her friend attempting to provide comfort.

  “Does she need a doctor?” the officer asked apprehensively. “I can call for a bus.”

  Before Sarah could answer, Bernice said, “No. I’ll be okay. Sarah, would you get my heart pills? They’re on my night stand.” Sarah nodded to Charles, and he headed for the bedroom that had been theirs.

  When he returned with the pill bottle and a glass of water, Sarah was still holding Bernice in her arms, and the officer was nervously looking on. He later whispered to Charles that he hated delivering bad news to old folks. “You never know what it might do to them…” Charles, noting that the officer was young, tried to remember how he had felt in this sort of situation when he was new to the department. He hoped he had been more sensitive.

  “I’m sorry,” Bernice said, as she straightened up and Sarah was able to release her. “It was just such a shock, and I thought you meant...”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. There didn’t seem to be any other way to say it, but I guess…”

  “It’s okay,” Bernice responded. “About the body, was it the young woman whose picture was in the paper yesterday?”

  “Yes,” he responded. “Councilman Waterford’s daughter.”

  “And the paper said she was murdered.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you people thinking that my foster son Darius is responsible?”

  “We have no suspects at this time.”

  “Are you looking for him?”

  “Yes, he’s a person of interest.”

  A person of interest, Charles repeated to himself. They’ve already made up their minds that he did this. And maybe he did…?

  “Well,” Bernice said, having pulled herself together. “I hope you find him, but for an entirely different reason. I want to see him cleared of this, and I want to know that he’s okay. He did not kill this girl. He’s been in plenty of trouble in the past, and I’ll be the first to admit that, but I’ve never know him to hurt anyone. He was always a gentle boy. So find him, officer,” she demanded as she stood and looked the officer in the eye with determination. “Find that boy and bring him home.”

  “We’ll find him, ma’am.”

  How can she be so sure Darius wasn’t involved, Sarah wondered, considering all the surprises she’s had to face about him lately. Does she really know him?

  “And when can I have my car back?” Bernice demanded, but immediately realized she didn’t want the car back. “Never mind,” she added, trying to keep her mind from imagining the body in the trunk. “Just keep it.”

  The officer left almost immediately after delivering the news, and he had no sooner pulled away from the curb that Sophie burst in the front door without knocking. “What’s going on?”

  As Sophie sat next to Bernice holding her hand, Charles and Sarah caught her up on what the detective had to say. Sophie had read the newspaper article when she got home the night before and had wondered if there was a connection. “Charles,” she said, “You get to the bottom of this, okay?”

  “Sophie, I’m not with the department anymore, and they’ve told me…”

  “I know what they’ve told you, Charles. They told you to stay out of it, but I know that among the four of us, we can solve this. We’ve done it before,” she added proudly, holding her head high. “Our friend needs our help.”

  “Let’s go over to my house,” Sophie announced. “I have a freshly baked peach cobbler in the warming oven and a pot of coffee brewing. “We need refueling so we can make our plans.”

  “Sophie,” Charles began but was immediately interrupted by Sophie.

  “Charles, you know we’re going to do this with or without you.”

  Knowing she was right, he responded, “Okay, I’m in.” That way I can keep my eyes on these loose cannons.

  Once they were settled around Sophie’s table, Sarah asked Bernice if she thought she’d feel like going to the quilt club meeting. “It’s tonight, you know.”

  “I know, and I want to go. I promised
to bring packets of feedsack squares to the meeting.” With a look of confidence, she added, “And I intend to go on with my life. I know Darius didn’t do this, and I know they’ll find out who did. And if they don’t,” she added with a chuckle, “it sounds like we will.”

  Charles shook his head in disbelief. Here we go again.

  * * *

  Sitting across the desk from Lt. Stokely that afternoon, Charles listened to his friend’s words while nodding compliantly. “I know, Matt. I know. ‘I’m to stay out of the investigation…I’m no longer with the department…Detective Halifax is the lead detective and is totally in charge…it’s none of my concern even if my friends are involved…etcetera, etcetera.’ I know all that Matt.”

  “So tell me this,” Lt. Stokely responded. “Why is it you don’t act like you know all that? Why are you in here asking me questions about the investigation?”

  “I just want to make sure you’re looking at all the possibilities,” Charles responded.

  Matthew Stokely sighed. I wonder if I’ll hang on like this once I retired? He asked himself. “You’ve got to learn to enjoy your retirement, Charlie. Now I picture myself drifting around in the middle of a lake with my fishing rod and my beer chest.”

  Charles chuckled. “That sounds like a pipedream to me, Matt. I don’t think you’ll ever retire even though I think you should.”

  “You’re probably right,” Matt replied, looking away and sighing. “You’re probably right.” Shaking off his momentary reverie, he turned to his friend and asked, “So what is it you think we might be missing?”

  “What I’ve been thinking about is that this Waterford guy is in a contentious battle for the council seat in his district. Joe Capello is putting up a dirty fight…”

  “Hold it, Charlie. Surely you don't think Capello had anything to do with this. He may be a slimeball, but even he wouldn’t kill a kid to win an election.”

  “Maybe not personally, but he has mob connections...”

  “Mob connections? Are you serious, Charlie? Those are unconfirmed rumors.”

  “They might be rumors out on the street, but I’ll bet Major Crimes knows they are more than rumors. Have you talked to them, Matt?”