by Terry Shames
Her face and body freeze. Her lips form a thin line, and I can tell she’s doing all she can to resist lashing out at me.
“Hear me out. I don’t need to know the particulars of why you had a falling-out with him. That’s your business. But I do need to know a few things.”
The doorbell rings, and we both look at the door as if we’re the only two people left alive and we’re suddenly confronted with the idea that someone else may be around. “Shall we ignore it?” I say.
“No. I think it’s Will. He told me he wanted to drop by and I told him not to, but I expect he came anyway.”
“I’ll get the door.”
It is Will Landreau, his face almost hidden by an imposing potted plant. He peers around it, and when he sees me he takes a step back. “Have I got the right house?”
“Yes, this is Jenny’s place. I’m over here having a chat with the patient. Come on in.”
I take the plant from him so that he doesn’t have to negotiate greeting Jenny and wrestling with it at the same time.
“Will, that’s awfully nice of you,” Jenny says, eyeing the plant, a dieffenbachia with shiny leaves, as if it might have hidden thorns.
Will’s eyes dart from Jenny to the plant and back. “I didn’t think that this might be more trouble than it’s worth,” he said.
“No, it’s pretty. Very thoughtful.” I’ve never heard Jenny speak in such a conciliatory voice. She doesn’t have any plants in her house, but I don’t know if it’s because she doesn’t want to take care of them or if she is afraid she’ll kill them. “Sit down over here.” She pats the sofa near her. “Samuel, do you mind getting Will a glass so I can pour him some wine?”
His hands spring up in front of him. “Nothing for me, thanks. I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight. I only came by to see how your recovery is going.”
The three of us try hard to make it a pleasant twenty minutes of conversation, but it’s obvious that Jenny feels the effects of the booze she downed earlier. Will seems puzzled that she’s slurring her speech. He keeps giving her speculative looks.
By the time Will leaves I know that Jenny has drunk too much for me to go back to the question of her brother. As jumpy as she is regarding him, I expect I’ll only have one chance to bring up the subject again before she shuts me down for good. I’d better choose the time wisely.
I’m yawning more or less nonstop, and Jenny insists that I go on home. “I’ll be fine. Waking up with a nasty hangover isn’t the way I’d like my life to go. The reason I drank too much last night is that I had a sort of shock.”
I remember the box with the torn letters around it. “What kind of shock?”
She leans over and pours herself another glass of wine, looking like she’s on automatic pilot. “If I told you, it probably wouldn’t mean much to you.”
“Let’s test it out.”
She takes a sip of wine, and I’m glad that at least it isn’t a gulp. “My mamma told me . . .” she cocks her head and squints up at the ceiling as if looking for cobwebs. “No, that isn’t true. I don’t think she ever actually told me outright. . . . I got the impression that she had not stayed in touch with Eddie. I don’t mean that she didn’t know where he was, but I thought they weren’t on speaking terms. And then I found all these letters he sent her and it shook me up, thinking she had let me believe one thing when something else was actually going on. I mean the fact that she kept the letters. See, I told you it wouldn’t mean much.”
“Did you read the letters?”
“A few. I couldn’t stand to read them. He’s such a whiner.”
“What was he whining about?”
She thinks for a few seconds. “He complained that she would barely answer his letters—that she was polite, but nothing more.”
“That should make you feel better, knowing she kept him at arm’s length.”
“I guess. But why did she keep the letters?”
Same question I asked myself. I ease back down onto the sofa. “I’d like to know why you and your mamma were on the outs with Eddie.”
She doesn’t reply, but she also doesn’t bite my head off, so I plunge ahead. “I’ve done a little nosing around and I know Eddie was arrested for assault the summer after he graduated from high school. He seems to have a clean slate since then, but a few people I talked to told me he had a mean streak.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Her voice is strangled. She reaches for her glass of wine and gulps the rest of it down. Here we go again.
“No, I don’t know the half of it. That’s why I’m asking you to fill me in. Did you know he’s been living over in Temple for a long time?”
“Why would I know that? With the possible exception of you, everybody who knows me knows the less I hear about Eddie the better.”
I ignore the barb. “He’s been gone for thirty years, and suddenly he shows up when your mamma is sick. Do you have any idea how he found out she was in the hospital?”
“I don’t know!” Jenny practically shouts. “I don’t know anything about him. I don’t know who his friends are or why he showed up.” She draws a deep breath and speaks a little more calmly. “There are plenty of busybodies who might have wanted to stir things up and let him know Mamma was in the hospital, but no one mentioned it to me.”
She stomps off into the kitchen and comes back with the bottle of Jack Daniels. She pours a slug into the glass she was drinking out of before. The ice has melted now, but she seems not to notice. She tosses back the drink and slams the glass down on the table.
“Is there any possibility that Eddie was responsible for trying to run you off the road the other night?”
“There’s a possibility, but I don’t know why he’d want to. He got what he wanted when Mamma left the house to him.”
I could tell her that for some people “more” is never enough—they aren’t satisfied until they have it all.
She gets up again and this time disappears for a few minutes. When she comes back, she’s put on a sweatshirt. It isn’t cold, so this has to do with her own internal temperature. She sits down and picks up her glass again. “I don’t know why you’re so interested in Eddie, but I want you to stop asking me about him. I don’t know how he found out Mamma was sick, and I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, the faster I get that house turned over to him, the better. And then I never want to see him again.”
“If you feel that way, why don’t you hire somebody to move all the stuff left in the house and put it in storage? You talked earlier about having Nate Holloway from next door do it. I could arrange to rent a storage space for you in one of those places outside town. Or the stuff could go in your garage.”
She nods her head, staring off into space. “Then I wouldn’t have to go there anymore.”
“You sure you want to do that? You don’t want to go there one more time to say good-bye?”
Her expression is desolate. “When Eddie walked in on me the other day, he tainted that house. Just like he tainted anything he ever touched. I said good-bye to Mamma, and that’s all I needed to do. The house isn’t the same without her there.”
CHAPTER 28
“Ellen Forester showed me your watercolor painting.” I’ve invited Loretta in for coffee the next morning when she brings me coffee cake, and we’re sitting at my kitchen table. I haven’t turned on the air-conditioning yet, and it’s the coolest room in the house.
Loretta makes a sound of exasperation. “Why did she do that? All I’m doing is dabbling.”
“She thinks you’re pretty good.”
Loretta’s hands flutter over her cup of coffee. “That’s nice of her, but she shouldn’t be showing it off.” She chews at her lip and looks at me. “What did you think?”
“I liked the painting a lot. You’ve got some talent.”
“Lot of good it does me. I’m a little bit old to start on a new career as a famous artist. And don’t tell me about Grandma Moses. I’m not that old.”
�
��I wanted you to know I liked your picture, that’s all. No need to get all dramatic about it.”
She smiles and seems to be at a loss for words, a rarity for Loretta. “I forgot to tell you,” she says, suddenly sober. “Did you hear about Rodell?”
“No! What?”
“He had a heart attack last night. They took him to Scott and White Hospital in Temple.”
As if triggered by her words, my phone rings. It’s Bill Odum, giving me the same news. He says he went to work early and the call was on the answering machine.
“Wonder why nobody phoned me at home?” I say.
“It was late,” Odum says. “The call came in after midnight.”
“I’ll call over to the hospital and see if there’s anything I can do.”
Loretta tells me that she heard Rodell woke up feeling bad and told his wife he thought he ought to go to the hospital.
“Does anybody know his condition this morning?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t heard. Funny how the two of you got friendly after he got sick.”
“He’s a pretty smart guy. He’d have been a good police chief if he hadn’t ruined himself with alcohol. I’m glad he has stayed off the booze.” Hearing myself talk, I feel nervous for Jenny. I won’t be able to take it if she continues to drink herself into a stupor every night, no matter how much I want to be a friend to her.
The two-hour drive to the hospital in Temple feels more like five hours. Rodell’s wife, Patty, is sitting in the hallway outside of Rodell’s room. It looks like she’s been up all night. She was bitter over the fact that I took on the job of chief of police when Rodell was incapacitated, but now she jumps up and greets me like a long-lost friend. “Thank you so much for coming, Samuel. Rodell will be so glad to see you. He’s already going stir-crazy and he hasn’t even been in the hospital twelve hours.”
“How is he? Was it a bad heart attack?”
She looks sad and her bottom lip starts to tremble. She shakes herself like she’s got feathers on her that need settling. “They say it’s not bad, but . . . Samuel, you know perfectly well he’s not going to get much better.”
“Let’s leave all that speculating to the doctors. Won’t do any good to make up the future.”
“I know you’re right.” She looks at her watch. “I’m waiting for my sister to get here. I’ll feel better once I have her with me.”
“How about the kids? Are they coming?”
“They said they’ll be here this afternoon.” Suddenly she throws up her hands and wails, “Why in the world did he have to get into that drinking?”
I put my arm around her shoulders and say, “Listen, you’ve got to look ahead and not behind. You can’t change the past and it’s a waste of energy to think you can.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re right.”
“Can I go in and see him?”
She looks at the door of his room. “Yes, go on in. Gabe LoPresto is in there and I figured I’d give them a minute to gab, and it would give me a chance to catch my breath. Since you’re here I’m going down to have a bite of breakfast, if you don’t mind.”
I tell her I’ll hang around until she comes back. If he’s up to it, I want to talk to Rodell about Scott Borland and son. I push open the door and go into the room. There are two beds. The first one holds a wizened old man hooked up to a lot of gear. His eyes track me as I walk past his bed.
A curtain is pulled across between the two beds. I step around it. LoPresto is standing, holding his hat in his hands, and looking down at Rodell. LoPresto is a hearty guy most of the time, but he’s not in that kind of mood right now, and I can see why. I don’t know why I thought Rodell would look the same. I was wrong. His face is sunken into itself, his cheeks and eye sockets hollow. His skin has lost all hint of color. The truth is, he looks worse than the man in the first bed.
“Hey, Rodell, you’ve got yourself in a fix,” I say.
Rodell makes a sound deep in his throat.
LoPresto lights up as he sees me. “Well, look who’s here!” He sticks his hand out to shake mine. A look passes between the two of us. We’re both unnerved by the man lying in the bed. It’s strange that I feel miserable at the idea of Rodell going downhill. He was never anything but aggravating. A drunk. Mean. Surly. But in the past few months since he’s been sober, I’ve seen a different man—one that was hidden under a stagnant pool of alcohol. I’m not only feeling regret for seeing the man sinking; I regret the man he could have been.
“How you feeling?” I say.
“I’m hanging in there,” Rodell says. “A beer would taste good right about now.”
“Rodell, it isn’t even ten o’clock,” LoPresto says. “Maybe after lunch.”
“Not likely,” he says. “I feel like that guy in the joke. You know the one?”
“I know,” LoPresto says. “The one whose wife feeds him bran muffins all the time and when he’s on his deathbed he wishes he’d eaten whatever he pleased?”
Rodell chuckles and then coughs. It’s a painful sound. “That’s the one.”
LoPresto looks at his watch. “Samuel, I’m glad you came, so I can slip out. Did you see Patty?”
“She went down to get some breakfast. I told her I’d keep an eye on the patient until she got back so he doesn’t get it in his mind to light out of here. How are things going with the project in Bobtail?”
“I tell you what, I’m mighty proud of that, but it’s like getting a tiger by the tail. I hope I didn’t bite off more than I can chew. Those guys are rarin’ to go. They had already paid off most of the families out there and we’re starting to bulldoze the empty houses.”
“I expect they think that every minute that mall isn’t built is a minute they’re not making money. Gabe, you’re gonna do fine.”
“I hope so. Rodell, I’ll come see you when you get home.” LoPresto puts his hat on and eases past me.
When he’s gone, I pull up a chair next to Rodell’s bed and say, “You feel up to hearing what’s been going on?”
“Better than laying here wondering who all will come to my funeral.”
“I expect you’ll have a pretty good crowd.” And my guess is they’re all going to lift a glass in his honor.
I tell him my tale of catching the two boys sneaking into Jenny’s barn the night of the prom and their connection to Scott and Jett Borland.
“Borland? I remember when Scott Borland got sent to the penitentiary in Huntsville.”
“You do? How come you remember him?”
“I was friends with the sheriff at the time and it was one of the few times he said somebody scared him. He told me Borland was a bad guy. Your friend Jenny must have been pretty young to be handling that case.”
“She was doing that stint as assistant DA that a lot of lawyers go through. But I guess with her it stuck. She said she likes seeing to it that bad people go to prison.”
“Only problem is, that can come back to bite her.” He frowns and shifts around in the bed.
“You doing okay? Can I get you anything?”
“Just feeling weak. I hate it.”
“I want to run something by you.” I tell him about the altercation between Ellen Forester and her ex-husband. “I’m beginning to think something has got to be done.”
“By God, it’s past time something was done. You can’t let that kind of thing go on. Next thing, he’ll be knocking her around. You’ve got to put a stop to it.” His agitation sets up a deep, guttural cough. When he’s done coughing, he looks wrung out.
I tell him about the prom and the parents hovering too much over their kids. It’s not very interesting, and by the time I’m done, his eyes are closed. Maybe it was soothing to hear me drone on about everyday problems in Jarrett Creek. He’s certainly no stranger to that.
After a while Patty comes tiptoeing in. When she sees that Rodell is asleep, she motions for me to come out in the hallway.
Her eyes tear up as soon as she starts to ta
lk. “I know I haven’t been very nice to you, Samuel, but I want you to know I appreciate how much you’ve helped Rodell since he came home. Going down to the station and working a couple of mornings a week is all he looks forward to.”
“Patty, Rodell has been helpful. He knows the place. And he knows people and how they get into things. I just wish . . .”
“I know what you wish. Same thing I do. That he hadn’t gotten so far into the bottle.”
“Water under the bridge.” I pat her arm.
CHAPTER 29
I’ve still got Jenny’s key to her mamma’s house, and as soon as I leave the hospital I head over there. It’s noon by the time I arrive. I’ve had plenty of time to think over my conversation with Marlene, Eddie’s second wife. She claimed that Vera Sandstone’s spat with Eddie stemmed from her prejudice toward Eddie’s first wife. True, prejudice was more widespread back then, but knowing Vera, it’s hard for me to imagine her being upset that Eddie married a Hispanic girl. Maybe there was something else about the girl that created problems between Vera and Eddie. I want to find out more about the girl. Going to Vera’s house to arrange for moving the goods out is exactly the opportunity I need. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find what I’m looking for.
I’m relieved that Eddie Sandstone’s car isn’t in the driveway. I’d like to take care of business without having to answer to him. But then I realize Vera’s car isn’t there either. I don’t remember Jenny telling me that she did anything with the car, and I wonder where it is. I’m standing in the driveway when a young man comes out of the house next door.
I wave him over. “Are you Nate Holloway by any chance?”
He says he is. He speaks with a certain reticence.
“You’re just the man I wanted to see.” I tell him who I am and ask if he knows where Vera’s car is.
“Jenny asked me if I’d take it in to have it serviced so she can sell it. And I did.”
“That answers one question. Can I ask you if you’ve seen her brother Eddie around? You know what he looks like?”
