Too Late for Angels

by Mignon F. Ballard

  Throughout the course of the evening, Lucy saw and spoke to numerous friends and acquaintances, and for the most part, she thought, they seemed pleased to see her with an escort. After the concert was over, she smiled as Ben took her arm, guiding her through the crowd. She hadn’t let herself acknowledge how much she had missed the attentions of a man, and after three long years it was a welcome adjustment—no matter how temporary it might be.

  In fact, as Ben walked her to her door, Lucy Nan Pilgrim made up her mind she would invite him in for coffee. Earlier, Ben had mentioned the possibility of a picnic and hike at King’s Mountain and Lucy hoped they could pursue the idea before colder weather set in. While she stood searching for her key, however, Lucy couldn’t miss the figure in the shadows at the top of the stairs. Augusta had tried to make herself inconspicuous, but the gleam of her necklace and soft iridescence of her rose-colored shawl gave her presence away.

  Clementine banished what could have been an awkward moment by greeting them at the door, and Ben laughed, then kissed Lucy on the forehead and told her good night.

  “Tea or coffee?” Augusta asked a few minutes later as Lucy shed her shoes in the kitchen.

  “I don’t care, as long as it’s hot.” Lucy practically melted onto a chair. It had been a long day.

  “Then I believe I’ll join you.” Augusta smiled as she poured steaming cider into ceramic mugs. The brew smelled of apples and cinnamon. “How was your evening?”

  “Nice.” Lucy told her about dinner in the small but elegant restaurant and how they had ended up sitting in front of Lollie Pate during the concert. “She was quiet for the second part of the performance, thank goodness! Seemed kind of put out about something. I hope it wasn’t because we didn’t talk with her, but my gosh, she didn’t give us a chance to get a word in edgewise! I was afraid the woman was going to run out of breath.”

  Augusta seemed indifferent to that. “What about your friend Benjamin? Did you enjoy his company?”

  “Yes, I did. He’s very nice.”

  The angel lifted an eyebrow. “Nice.”

  “Yes, nice. His wife died several years ago and he has a son who’s a doctor in Atlanta. Actually, we have a lot in common.” Lucy told her about the proposed hike and Ben’s interest in the adult literacy program. “And in spite of what Ellis says, he can talk after all! We found we even enjoy some of the same books and music, although I don’t think he’s much for dancing.”

  “He’s nice-looking, too.” Augusta glanced away.

  “Why, Augusta Goodnight, I do believe you have a crush on Ben Maxwell!” Lucy grinned. “And I think he’s a bit of a history buff, too. That should be right up your alley.”

  “Lucy Nan Pilgrim, don’t talk such foolishness!” Augusta leaned over to scratch Clementine’s ears, but Lucy thought the angel didn’t protest too much.

  “My friend Zee was at the concert tonight with that director who rents her apartment.” She told Augusta what Poag Hemphill had said during intermission. “I thought it was awfully kind of him, and I could see the relief on Jay’s face.”

  Augusta nodded solemnly. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see if the local police agree.” She leaned closer. “And speaking of face, what have you done to your forehead, just below the hairline there?”

  “Must be the place I burned with the curling iron tonight.” Lucy touched the tender spot. “Ouch! Still hurts. You’re lucky, Augusta. Your hair is naturally glorious.”

  But Augusta, usually receptive to compliments, didn’t acknowledge the praise. “Curling iron, of course!” she said. “Years ago, people used to heat them in the fire. Didn’t you tell me the woman who came here had something like a burn mark on her forehead?”

  “Yes, that could’ve been what it was,” Lucy said. “I didn’t look at it closely, though.”

  “And she wore an entirely different lipstick from the tube found in her handbag?”

  Lucy nodded. “Nettie said it didn’t suit her.”

  Augusta let her necklace slip through her fingers while she thought. “It seems to me that your guest—whoever she was—had recently undergone some kind of cosmetic makeover.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Lucy Nan, if you’re going to the grocery store, would you please pick up a few things for me?” Ellis asked when she phoned the next day.

  “Of course. You know I practically live there. They’re thinking of charging me rent. You aren’t sick, are you?”

  Ellis’s response was more like a gag than a groan. “Just sick of being suspected of murder! I can just feel people looking at me wherever I go, and I know what they must be thinking.”

  “Ellis Saxon, you know that’s not true! Everybody in Stone’s Throw knows you better than that.”

  “No, they don’t.” Ellis’s voice was choked.

  “Who? Name one,” Lucy demanded.

  ’That woman who works at the video rental place. Susan and I ran in there yesterday to grab something to watch last night. Thought it would keep our minds off the current dilemma—for a little while, at least.”

  “The woman with the big hair? Wears enough jewelry to sink a ship?”

  “That’s the one. When I paid her she acted like my money was contaminated, and I saw her whisper something to that man she works with as we left.”

  “Maybe your slip was showing.” Lucy tried to make light of the situation, as she could tell her friend was on the verge of tears.

  “Slip, my foot! I know what she was talking about, and I’ll never go in there again!” Ellis sniffed. “I feel like moving into the closet and never coming out!”

  “Ellis, that silly woman has beans for brains. I can’t believe you’d let her get to you this way. What does Bennett say?

  “He thinks I’m overreacting…pats me on the back.”

  “And Susan? Where’s she?”

  “Left early this morning. Her girls are both down with a virus.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Lucy said. “I have to run these shoes Shirley/Florence left here by the police station.”

  “Do give them my regards—what shoes?”

  “The ones she left in Julie’s closet when she took my boots and coat. I’d forgotten all about them until Augusta noticed the mud the other day.” Lucy could have kicked herself for not getting the shoes to the police earlier. It seemed something else was always getting in the way.

  “What mud?” Ellis asked.

  “From the Folly—but I’ll tell you when I see you. Be making out your grocery list,” Lucy told her. But she had no intention of doing Ellis’s shopping.

  “Keep your old list. You’re coming with me,” she said a few minutes later when Ellis met her at the door, list and money in hand. “And grab that rented video while you’re at it. We’ll pay a visit to little Miss Puffyhead.”

  “What kind of friend are you?” Ellis whined. “Very well, I’ll just ask Idonia to go.”

  “No, you won’t! Do you want people to believe this crap? Straighten your shoulders and hold your head high. Where’s your mettle?”

  “I don’t even know what mettle is. It sounds painful,” Ellis said, but she reluctantly allowed Lucy to help her into her coat and out the door.

  “That’s nettle, and it can’t be more painful than what you’re going through,” Lucy told her.

  “What’s all this about Florence’s shoes?” Ellis asked as they waited at the traffic light.

  “I dropped them off at the police station on my way over,” Lucy said, and told her what Augusta had discovered. “If it turns out to be the same kind of clay—”

  “—it would mean that Florence had been out to the Folly. But what would she be doing out there?” Ellis gasped. “Lucy Nan, you don’t think she had anything to do with what happened to Calpernia, do you?”

  “I don’t know if she ever met Calpernia. It sure beats me,” Lucy said, “but I intend to find out!”

  “Please don’t make me do this, Lucy Nan!” Ellis pleaded as they par
ked in front of the video store a few minutes later.

  “Oh, come on, you’ll love it! It’ll be fun. Can you imagine what she’ll think? Besides, what do we have to lose?”

  Ellis smiled and began to look almost like her old self again. “Well…if you promise not to run off and leave me like you did that time back in high school.”

  “Ellis Calhoun, is there an animal in here?” Lucy mimicked Miss Winfield, their high school librarian, who was convinced a cat was hiding in the stacks. What a joke that had been! The straitlaced woman never knew the two of them had been responsible for all the meowing.

  “And don’t you dare make me laugh!” Ellis added.

  The woman barely nodded in greeting when they came in, but Lucy saw her stiffen noticeably when she recognized Ellis. They returned the rented video and disappeared behind the shelves pretending to inspect the movies offered there.

  “I just hate violent films, don’t you?” Lucy said in a loud voice.

  “Oh, no. The bloodier, the better,” Ellis answered. “And I find the methods most interesting. In fact, I’m doing a little research of my own.”

  “Really? Have you considered poison? And of course there’s great-granddaddy’s sword just killing time in the attic—if you’ll pardon my pun.”

  Ellis covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “So many victims, so little time,” she said. “I wonder who’ll be next.”

  A couple of minutes later, when the two left empty-handed, the woman with the big hair stood as far away as she could, with a roomful of shelves between them. “Bye, now!” Ellis called to her, waving as they walked out the door.

  “Damn, that was fun!” she said, grinning, and Lucy knew the old Ellis was back. But for how long? she wondered.

  Augusta laughed when she told her about it later. “I’m pleased you were able to make your friend laugh, but I’m afraid she’s going to need more earnest support.” It was a mild day and they sat on the back steps drinking coffee while Clementine played at their feet. Now Augusta lifted the puppy onto her lap and stroked her tummy. “Lucy Nan, do you honestly think anyone you know had a hand in any of this?” she asked, turning to Lucy with her clear-eyed gaze.

  “I can’t imagine who it might be,” Lucy said. “Nothing like this has ever happened in Stone’s Throw before.” She didn’t even like to think about it.

  “Then it seems to me it might be time to enlist some help. Why not call on some of your friends? One person might have information another doesn’t. You never know what might come of it until you put the pieces together,” Augusta said.

  “The Thursdays aren’t supposed to meet for another couple of weeks, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t get together sooner.”

  Augusta nodded. “The sooner the better,” she said.

  “Zee says Jo Nell and Idonia aren’t speaking to her because she came to Calpernia’s funeral with Jay. That might present a problem,” Lucy said, watching the puppy wobble down the steps. It looked so cute she scooped it onto her knees, where it proceeded to puddle on her lap.

  Clementine! Setting the dog on the steps, Lucy jumped to her feet, a damp spot spreading across the front of her pants. “Oh, sure, go ahead and laugh!” she said, noticing that Augusta didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “She didn’t wet on you.” But she found herself laughing as well and shrugged. “Oh, well, at least they’re washable.”

  The next afternoon The Thursdays, with the exception of Ellis, gathered in Lucy’s living room. Augusta had agreed with her that Ellis should be excluded since they were meeting to share information that might clear her name. “She would either want to be in on it or she’d put on a big act about not needing any help,” Lucy had explained to the others.

  “You might want me to sit in another room since there are some people here who might not want to share the same air with me,” Zee said, shedding her jaunty red jacket on the back of a chair.

  “That’s not true, Zee Saint Clair, and you know it,” Idonia said, taking the seat beside her. “Jo Nell and I were upset—and rightly so—since you chose to accompany that man to Calpernia’s funeral. To be honest, I was afraid if I spoke, I’d say something I might regret.”

  “Since when has that stopped you?” Zee said.

  “Well, it’s all behind us now, so let’s just forget it,” Jo Nell said. She leaned over to kiss Zee’s cheek. “We’ve been through too much together to let this silliness come between us. Besides, Ellis needs our help.”

  “Do you think the police are seriously considering Ellis as a suspect?” Claudia asked Lucy.

  “She seems to think so, and they did ask her not to leave town,” Lucy answered. “I thought if we pooled our information, we might come up with something to shed some light on the subject.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any information,” Idonia said, “but it all seems to begin with Florence’s coming to Stone’s Throw.”

  “She took a bus from Chicago,” Lucy reminded them, “but nobody here remembers seeing her get off the bus.” She frowned. “I meant to get back to that man who clerks at the station here. There was a substitute driver that day and he said he’d try to find out who it was. It’s a long shot, I know, but if we can track him down, maybe the driver will remember where Florence got off.”

  “Or if somebody got off with her,” Claudia added. “I can do that right now. I’ll use the phone in the kitchen and see what I can find out.”

  “Good. Thanks!” Lucy turned to her neighbor. “Remember, Nettie, you commented on the lipstick she wore. Said it didn’t match her complexion.”

  “Or her dress,” Nettie said. “And didn’t you tell me you found a different color tube in the lining of her purse?”

  “What’s so strange about that?” Zee asked. “I couldn’t begin to count all the lipsticks I own.”

  “But that wasn’t the color she was wearing,” Nettie reminded her. “What happened to that?” She clicked her teeth absently, thinking. “And her hair smelled of shampoo—remember, Lucy Nan? Like it had just been washed.”

  Lucy thought of the woman’s sleeping face. Her rouge had been carefully applied and she still wore a dusting of eye shadow. She doubted if a woman in Florence’s state would have been able to do such a professional job.

  “She had obviously paid a recent visit to a beauty salon,” she said. “But where? And when?”

  “Maybe she went before she left Chicago,” Idonia said. “Assisted living facilities—even nursing homes—offer services like that now.” She made a face. “Dear God, I’ll probably have to take advantage of them soon enough!”

  “Relax. I doubt if your room’s ready yet,” Lucy told her. “And Florence’s makeup looked fresher than that. Her hair still smelled like apricots, and according to the bus schedule, she should’ve arrived in Stone’s Throw a couple of days before she came to me. So where was she all that time?”

  Across the room, Augusta waved to get her attention and pointed to her shoes.

  “I’m coming to that,” Lucy said aloud.

  “Coming to what?” Idonia wanted to know. “And by the way, didn’t you tell me Florence said something about California? Wonder what she meant by that.”

  “That’s right, she did!” It was getting darker and Lucy rose to turn on a lamp by the window. “We were sitting in the kitchen and she’d been asking about her mother. That’s when she told me her mother was a Thursday. Said something about her not being here because she was at a meeting of The Thursdays…And then she said, I knew she wasn’t in California!”

  “Poor little thing! That just breaks my heart!” Jo Nell searched in her bag for a tissue until Zee put one in her hand. “Somebody must have told her her mama was in California.” She frowned. “Now, why would they do that?”

  “I reckon it’s the first place that came to mind,” Idonia said. “Would you want to tell a seventy-year-old woman who thinks she’s five that her mama has been dead forty years?”

  Claudia appeared in the doorway
just then to tell them she’d finally gotten through to the bus station. “Number was busy, so I had to redial a bunch of times, and a lot of good it did. The man I spoke with—Horace, I think he said his name was—said he tried but he never could track down that fellow who was driving the bus that day. Said he hasn’t seen him since, but if he does, he’ll give you a call. I gave him your number.”

  “So, other than some beauty parlor somewhere, we don’t have any idea where Florence went before she came here,” Zee said.

  Lucy glanced at Augusta. “As a matter of fact, we do,” she said and told them about the shoes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jo Nell leaned forward so quickly she almost fell out of her chair. “Good heavens! You don’t suppose Florence pushed Calpernia from the Folly, do you?”

  “Good old Florence! I’m beginning to like her more and more,” Zee said with a smile.

  “Oh, hush!” Idonia told her, but Lucy noticed she laughed when she said it. “If the mud came from the Folly, what was she doing there? And what’s the connection between Florence and Calpernia?”

  “Well…they’re both dead,” Claudia said, and everyone turned to look at her before they laughed. Small, blond and serious, Claudia Pharr rarely cracked jokes—not intentionally, anyway. At forty-five, she was the youngest of the group, invited to join only because her mother had been a member, and her grandmother before her. Lucy found her rather colorless, but she had to admit Claudia did make a mean pound cake and was eager to take on jobs nobody else wanted.

  Now a shy smile broke out on Claudia’s girlish face and she shrugged. “Well, they are, aren’t they? And they surely didn’t kill each other—so who did?”

  “Good point,” Nettie said. “What did you do with the shoes, Lucy Nan?”

  “Took them to the police. I hope they’ll be interested enough to do some investigating on their own. I understand they have ways to analyze things like that.”