Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 08 - Wed and Buried

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  “So she’s your aunt? I figured you were related somehow.”

  “She’s my great-aunt, actually. Her brother Ellis was my grandfather.”

  “Ellis Burnette,” he said as if trying the words on for size. “I remember him. Small but tough. Is he still living?”

  “No, sir. He’s been gone for several years now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I always liked Ellis—he didn’t mind my being a Yankee the way some of the others did.”

  “Times have mellowed,” Richard said. “Sometimes they even marry Yankees into the family now.”

  “Is that a fact?” Pudd’nhead said with a grin.

  “I take it that you knew Aunt Maggie, too,” I said pointedly.

  “Oh yes, I knew Maggie.” He shook his head. “Never met another woman to beat her. Strong as a horse, tough as nails, and she had a temper hot enough to burn right through you. I guess she still does.”

  Those weren’t exactly the tender memories I’d expected from a long-ago romance.

  “She and I worked in the same department at Walters Mill,” he said. “I noticed her right off and tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with a carpetbagger like me. So I moved on to greener pastures.”

  Not exactly love at first sight, I thought.

  Pudd’nhead went on. “She wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for me being there, what with my bringing down a bigger paycheck than anybody else just because I could play ball. And I didn’t exactly help matters by slacking off on the job every chance I got. I was a ball player, not some mill hand, and I made sure nobody forgot it. So I can’t blame anybody but myself for what happened.”

  “What did happen?” I asked.

  “One day at the mill I was messing around, not paying attention to what I was supposed to be doing. I don’t even remember the piece of machinery I was running, but something came loose. I found out later that any half-wit mill hand would have seen the problem coming and shut down the machine to fix it, but like I said, I was a ball player. This piece of metal came flying through the air and hit me on the head.” Absently he rubbed the dent that had helped Aunt Maggie realize who he was. “The next thing I saw was Maggie—she had my head in her lap, with her smock held up against my head to stop the bleeding, and was yelling for somebody to get a doctor. She looked down at me and said, “You dad-blamed idiot! I’ll be surprised if you don’t have pudding for brains after this.”

  “Hence the nickname,” Richard said.

  “That’s right. I started liking it after a while. All the great ball players had nicknames, and maybe I couldn’t be great, but I could have a nickname.”

  “And one heck of a dent,” I added.

  “It didn’t show so bad until my hair started to go, but now…” He shrugged. “Anyway, I was in pretty bad shape for a good while after that, and the Burnettes—your family, that is—took me in and nursed me back to health. All the girls helped out, of course, but Maggie took the most interest in me. She said it was because she hated the idea of ruining her best smock if I was just going to up and die. How could I not fall in love with a woman like that?”

  “‘O tiger’s heart wrapp’d in a woman’s hide!’ King Henry VI, Part III, Act I, Scene 4,” Richard said in agreement.

  “We were getting along pretty good, and I started thinking about settling down here in Byerly, maybe even becoming a mill hand for real. But then spring came, and my catching hand got that itch, and I decided that playing ball meant more to me than Maggie did. So I left.”

  I didn’t know whether I should feel sympathy for the man or hit him upside the head for running out on my great-aunt. “You haven’t been playing ball all this time, have you?” I said.

  “I wish,” he said with a grin. “I only played another seven, eight seasons after that. Then I went into coaching, managing, and a whole lot of other jobs. Anything that would keep me working at a ball park. But I got old, and the game changed, and it was time to retire.”

  “Then you came looking for Aunt Maggie?”

  “Not right away, but eventually curiosity got the better of me. I’d always wondered what happened to her—we didn’t exactly keep in touch after I left.”

  “You mean you didn’t write her or call?”

  He shook his head, looking ashamed.

  “You’re lucky she didn’t set the dog on you,” I said.

  “Probably so. It looks like she’s done a whole lot better for herself than I have.” He nodded at the Walters mansion. “Big house like that, and a rich husband. I guess things worked out right for her.”

  It was petty of me, but I said, “Did you know they only got married a couple of weeks ago? If you’d come back sooner, you might still have had a chance.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been beating myself up over that. One of the first things I did when I hit town was pick up a newspaper, and I saw the story about them eloping.”

  “So why are you still in town?” I had to ask. “Why didn’t you leave once you found out she was married?”

  “Even a married woman might want to see an old friend,” he said.

  “Then why didn’t you call her, or knock on the door?”

  “I’ve been trying to get my courage up. I didn’t know how she was going to react. And I sure didn’t expect what I got. Maggie always did have a way of surprising a man.”

  “She gives as good as she gets,” I said pointedly.

  “Yeah, well, I never said I was smart. Leaving Maggie the way I did was probably the dumbest thing I ever did. I’m just glad she’s happy. You can tell her that for me, if you don’t mind.”

  “Does this mean you’re leaving town now?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t have anyplace I need to be, so maybe I’ll stick around a few more days. If Maggie asks, tell her I’m staying at the Holiday Inn in Hickory.”

  “If she asks,” I said noncommittally.

  He nodded sadly, then climbed into the car. As he drove away, I saw him looking back at the Walters mansion.

  “You were kind of hard on him, weren’t you?” Richard said. “I thought it was quite romantic of him to look up his old flame after all these years.”

  “Richard, did you ever wonder why Aunt Maggie never married?”

  “I assumed she never found a man that suited her.”

  “Or maybe it was because she found the right man, and he left her.”

  Richard looked doubtful. “I never noticed her pining away.”

  “By the time you knew her, Pudd’nhead was long gone. She must have given up hope of him ever coming back.”

  “Maybe, but I wouldn’t exactly cast her as a spurned maiden. If she’d really wanted to spend her life with him, she could have gone after him.”

  “You think? What if I’d left Boston after graduation and never called or wrote you again? Would you have come looking for me?”

  “In a heartbeat,” he said promptly.

  “Really? Your pride wouldn’t have gotten in the way?”

  “‘He that is proud eats up himself.’ Troilus and Cressida, Act II, Scene 3.” He added, “Me, I’d pick happiness over pride any day. I wouldn’t have turned stalker or anything like that, but I wouldn’t have rested until I knew for sure that you didn’t love me anymore.”

  Looking at Richard, I knew he was completely serious. So what could I do but put my arms around him and do my best to prove that I could kiss just as well as my great-aunt? From his response, I don’t think he had any complaints.

  When we’d both caught our breath, Richard added, “Of course, since you did love me, if you’d suddenly left me, I’d have known there was a good reason. Maybe Aunt Maggie knew that Pudd’nhead loved baseball more than he did her.”

  I couldn’t imagine myself wanting to play a game that much. “Now he can’t play anymore, and as far as he knows, Aunt Maggie’s taken, so he’s got nothing. Unless…”

  “You think Aunt Maggie will divorce Big Bill and go back to Pudd’nhead?”

&
nbsp; “Who knows? Like Pudd’nhead says, Aunt Maggie has a way of surprising folks. But what I was thinking was that maybe Pudd’nhead came to town a little sooner than he claims.”

  “Why would he lie about that?”

  “What if he came a couple of weeks back and found out Aunt Maggie and Big Bill were an item? None of us really thought the two of them would get married, but maybe Pudd’nhead did. I mean, it would be mighty hard for a retired ball player to compete with a rich, powerful man like Big Bill.”

  “You think he’s the one trying to kill Big Bill? To level the playing field, as it were?”

  “Maybe.”

  “So why has he stuck around now that Big Bill and Aunt Maggie are married?”

  “Are you kidding? If he can kill Big Bill and then win over Aunt Maggie, not only has he reclaimed his lost love, but now she’s a rich, powerful widow.”

  “He seemed more like a lover than a fighter to me.”

  “Love does strange things to folks.”

  “‘If you remember’st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov’d.’ As You Like It, Act II, Scene 4.”

  I nodded absently, my mind partially occupied by the concept of Aunt Maggie as a femme fatale, and partially realizing that Pudd’nhead hadn’t explained why he’d been following Richard and me.

  It only took a moment to pull out my cell phone to call Belva at the police station and give her Pudd’nhead’s name and the hotel where he was staying. I wanted to see what else I could find out about Aunt Maggie’s former flame.

  Chapter 17

  Once I’d put Belva to work, we went back inside. I’d been so busy accusing Big Bill of hiring a private detective that I hadn’t told him what we’d been doing, and under the circumstances, I thought I owed him that report.

  Aunt Maggie was back in Big Bill’s room, but she and he weren’t talking. Not in the sense of not having anything to say right then, but in the sense of going out of their way not to speak one word to each other. Aunt Maggie was flipping through the pages of her magazine far too quickly to be reading, and Big Bill was flipping through channels on the TV just as quickly. Given that they were newlyweds, I thought it was a shame, but the last thing I wanted was to get involved in their quarrel.

  Instead, I just told Big Bill what progress Richard and I had made, knowing that Aunt Maggie would be listening, too. Once I’d finished, Big Bill frowned and said, “Is that it? It doesn’t sound to me that you know a bit more than you did when you left here last.”

  I counted to ten twice, then decided to tell him off anyway, but before I could, Aunt Maggie said, “It seems to me that some people could show a little gratitude.”

  “Well, it seems to me that some people might stop keeping secrets when a man’s life is at stake,” Big Bill shot back.

  “A real man wouldn’t assume that every little thing has something to do with him.”

  “Oh, cut it out!” I said in disgust. “If y’all want to fight, go right ahead, but I’ll be darned if I’m going to sit here and listen to you.”

  That got them to stop glaring at each other and to start glaring at me.

  “Big Bill, if you don’t like what Richard and I are doing, that’s too bad. We’re doing this our way, and don’t keep calling us for status reports—we’re not coming back over until we want to.” Aunt Maggie looked smug until I turned to her. “As for you, Aunt Maggie, I want you to think long and hard about Pudd’nhead Wilson. Big Bill’s right about one thing—this is no time to be keeping secrets.”

  Neither of them could decide whom they wanted to glare at after that, so I decided to make it easier on them.

  “Now, if you two lovebirds will excuse us, we have work to do.” I stomped out of the room, with Richard right at my heels, and there wasn’t a peep out of either of them.

  I paused outside the door, listening to hear if either Aunt Maggie or Big Bill yelled for me to come back. When neither of them did, I took a deep breath and relaxed.

  “My, my, my,” Richard said.

  “Was I awful?” I asked. “I know they’re worried, but—”

  “No, don’t say a word. I want to remember you just the way you were, eyes blazing and nostrils flaring.” He sighed. “What a woman!”

  “Now you cut it out!” I said, but I couldn’t help grinning.

  “Anything you say, ma’am,” he said with a mock quaver in his voice. “I am yours to command.”

  “Really?” I said. “This has possibilities.” I put my arms around his neck, pulled his face closer to mine, and started to take advantage of one of those possibilities. Then I heard someone clearing his throat and jerked away.

  Burt Walters was standing on the top stair, very carefully not looking in our direction.

  “Hi, Burt,” I said. I couldn’t very well be angry at him for being in his own house.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I was just going to check on Daddy.”

  “You might want to wait until later,” Richard said.

  “Is Daddy all right?” Burt asked in alarm.

  “He’s fine,” Richard said, “but he and Aunt Maggie are having a disagreement.”

  Burt moved closer to Big Bill’s door. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Well, Laura and I haven’t been married as long as you have, but in my experience, the quiet arguments are more deadly than the noisy ones.”

  “I see your point. Perhaps I will wait until later.” He started to go past Big Bill’s room and on down the hall.

  “As a matter of fact, Burt, if you’ve got a few minutes, we’d like to talk with you.” It occurred to me that while I didn’t consider Burt a leading contender, he was still a suspect, and we hadn’t had a chance to speak to him alone.

  “Of course,” Burt said. “Why don’t we go down to the study?” He led the way to the same room that Dorcas had used to talk to me the day before. “Would either of you care for something to drink? I could ring for Irene.”

  “Nothing for me,” I said, and Richard shook his head.

  “Then what can I do for you? This is about the attempts on Daddy’s life, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, wondering if I could program an e-mail system that would work as quickly as Byerly’s grapevine. It was a good thing that Richard and I weren’t trying to be covert. “What with being Big Bill’s son and working with him the way you do, it seems to me that you’re in the best position of anyone to know who would want him hurt. Do you have any ideas—anybody you’re suspicious of?” If Burt was guilty, that would be his chance to list a dozen or more names, just to throw us off the track.

  But Burt shook his head. “I wish I did, but I just don’t. I’m not saying that Daddy is the easiest man in the world to get along with; we all know better than that. But that’s not the same thing as wanting to kill him. What would be the point?”

  “The classic ones are money, sex, and revenge,” I said.

  “Money?” he said. “I guess that would mean me. Nobody else is getting enough out of the will to be worth killing over. Only I suppose now all Daddy’s money goes to Aunt Maggie, anyway.” He was either being totally frank or wanted to sound that way.

  “Sex?” Richard suggested.

  Burt looked distinctly uncomfortable. “That’s one thing Daddy and I don’t talk about. He was devoted to Mama. At least, he seemed to be, and neither he or Mama ever said anything to make me think different. Now he’s got Aunt Maggie. If there was anybody in between, other than somebody to dance with at a party, I never heard about it.”

  “Revenge?” I suggested. “It could be from something a long time ago.”

  “There were some unpleasant incidents when the union moved in.” He very carefully didn’t look at me, no doubt remembering that many of my relatives had been on the opposite side of Big Bill during that time. “Plenty of people wanted his hide then, and they weren’t shy about letting him know it. Carrying sticks, throwing rocks, and worse. That’s when Daddy h
ad this house built, to make sure he had someplace he could defend.”

  “Didn’t one man break in?” I said, suddenly curious about a tale I’d heard repeated over the years. “Only he couldn’t find Big Bill, and then the police came and got him. The story was that Big Bill had a bolt-hole.”

  “You hear all kinds of stories,” Burt said, but he still wasn’t looking me in the eyes. “Anyway, I can’t picture any of those men waiting all these years to come after Daddy.”

  “Did anybody go to prison over the strikes?” Richard asked. “Perhaps there was someone who was only recently released.”

  “Not that I know of,” Burt said. “Most of the folks, even the ones who were the angriest, ended up back at the mill once it was all said and done.”

  “The mill,” I said. “That’s an idea. Richard and I should go visit to scout out the gossip.”

  “No, that’d be a waste of your time,” Burt said quickly, and when I looked at him in surprise, he added, “I mean, most of those people were old-timers. They’ve all retired by now.”

  “True,” I said, noting how relieved he seemed. Just to see how he’d react, I added, “Of course, some of those people still have family working at the mill. Sometimes it’s the next generation that really gets hot for revenge. It might be worth a trip out there. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  Burt was literally sweating. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ll take you around myself. How about tomorrow?” He pulled a dark-blue date book out of his pocket. “I’ve got a meeting in Hickory in the morning. How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  “That would be great,” I said. “We’ve got plans for tomorrow morning, anyway.”

  “Great, great,” he said, scribbling in his book. “Maybe I’ll have some ideas for you by then.”

  Burt excused himself, and after he was out of earshot, Richard asked, “What plans do we have for tomorrow morning?”

  “What do you think? We’re spending the morning at the mill.”

  “Burt did seem nervous, didn’t he? Do you think he’s hiding something?”

  “Lord, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d gotten Tattoo Bob Tyndall to tattoo I’ve got a secret! across his forehead. Whatever Burt’s hiding out there, we’re going to find out what it is.”