Too Late for Angels

by Mignon F. Ballard

  “Her husband would know if it were hers, wouldn’t he?” Nettie scowled as she clicked her teeth. “But I don’t know if I’d trust him—looked shifty-eyed to me.”

  “We’ll have to tell somebody,” Lucy said. The pin felt like a hot lead weight in the pocket of her robe.

  Nettie patted Lucy’s arm and yawned. “Wait till we all get together. The Thursdays will decide what to do. Are you sure there wasn’t anything else in there?”

  “I’ll check again.” Lucy reached once more into the crevice but all she found was more dust and debris. “Were you hoping for a lemon drop?” she said.

  After Nettie left, Lucy went back upstairs and stood in the doorway of Julie’s old room, the room that had belonged to Florence. If you could only speak, she thought, looking around at the violetcolored walls, the wide floorboards, the tall double windows overlooking the street. It was a comfortable room; the child Florence had been happy here, and it was to here she had come home. Once more Lucy went to the closet and explored the small space with her fingers, but there was nothing there. The clothing still lay heaped on the bed and weariness fell so heavily upon her, Lucy felt as if she were facing a mountain. Even her arms seemed weighted.

  She turned at a touch on her shoulder to find Augusta behind her. “I’m so tired,” Lucy said.

  Augusta smiled. “Go to sleep.” She nodded toward the pile of clothing on the bed. “We’ll take care of this in the morning.”

  Lucy fumbled in her pocket for the pin. “We found this piece of jewelry in the closet. Florence must’ve put it there, but where did it come from? Augusta, I don’t know what to do.”

  “I know,” Augusta said, guiding her downstairs to bed. “We’ll think about that tomorrow.”

  It was almost nine when Lucy woke to the telephone ringing the next morning. “The DNA’s a match,” Ellis said.

  Lucy tossed aside the covers and searched for her slippers. “What? You mean—”

  “The little curl of hair that was in Florence’s baby book—it matched up with the sample they took from your visitor.”

  “I know,” Lucy said.

  “What do you mean, you know?”

  Lucy told her about Nettie remembering the hiding place in the closet and how they had found the pin. “It had to have been Florence who put it there,” she said. “Nobody else would know about it but Nettie.”

  “And you found this in the middle of the night? What does it look like?”

  “That sounds familiar. I think I’ve seen it somewhere,” Ellis said after Lucy described the jewelry.

  “Come and take a look at it. Have you had breakfast?” Lucy poked her head into the kitchen. “Augusta’s whipping up a cheese omelet and it looks like there’s enough for three.”

  “I’ve already eaten my cereal and skim milk. Don’t tempt me,” Ellis said.

  “Okay, but I could really use some help getting these fliers mailed out this morning…and I don’t even want to tell you about the blueberry pastries she’s taking out of the oven.”

  “Be there in three shakes!” Ellis said. She got there in two.

  “I know I’ve seen this pin somewhere before,” Ellis said as they sat at the table after breakfast. “I just wish I could remember where.”

  “I suppose we need to find out for sure if it belonged to Florence,” Lucy said, “but we’d have to involve Leonard.”

  “Not necessarily.” Augusta leaned back in her chair. She had just finished her second cup of coffee and was eyeing the pot as if she considered having a third. “Why not contact that residence where she stayed? Maybe someone there would remember the pin. They might even be willing to let you communicate with Florence’s husband through them, since the lawsuit has strained your relationship somewhat.”

  “What relationship?” Ellis snorted. “But you’re right, Augusta. That’s the best route to take. I’ll phone them today.”

  “Well, for Pete’s sake, don’t describe the pin to Leonard,” Lucy warned. “That greedy jerk would claim it whether it’s hers or not. Just ask him for a description of her jewelry.”

  And so it was agreed that Ellis would see what she could find out about ownership of the pin as soon as they collected the fliers. “We’re missing a link somewhere,” Lucy said as they drove to the printer’s together. “I’m hoping somebody somewhere will remember Florence’s face.”

  Ellis stared silently out the window. “Are you absolutely sure Florence put that pin in there?” she asked finally.

  Lucy frowned. “Who else could it have been?”

  Ellis shrugged. “Have you considered that it might have been Nettie? I mean, it did seem to come to her all of a sudden, and she’s had ample opportunity to hide it there.”

  “But why?” The thought hadn’t occurred to Lucy. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t! What’s wrong with me?” Ellis’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her head away. “Here I go thinking terrible things of old and dear friends because my own life is under a shadow. Just slap me, Lucy Nan!”

  “Can it wait? I’m driving right now.” Lucy pulled to a stop in the parking lot behind the printer’s. “You are coming to the festival tonight?” she asked.

  “Have to. Bennett’s helping with the stew. He’s gone to pick up the shrimp right now.”

  “Mmm! We’ll be there. Save us a place at the table!” Every year the men of the church served Frogmore stew at the harvest festival and Lucy looked forward to the mouth-watering combination of shrimp, kielbasa sausage, corn and potatoes which they sopped up with fresh loaves of crusty bread. Just about everybody in town came, including students and faculty from the college, so people usually ate in shifts.

  “Jessica’s circle is in charge of the auction, so she’s dropping Teddy by the house this afternoon while they get everything together; then later we’ll bring him to the festival with us.”

  Ellis lifted an eyebrow. “ ‘Us’?”

  While they waited for the clerk to bring them the printed fliers, Lucy told Ellis of her plans with Ben.

  Ellis laughed. “Good for you! It’s time you had a little romance in your life.”

  Lucy felt her face grow warm. “I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I’m kinda dreading tonight, and it’s all Augusta’s fault. She practically twisted my arm.”

  Ellis patted the aforementioned limb. “Yeah, right. It must hurt a lot.”

  Jessica had hardly stepped through the back door that afternoon before Teddy rushed past her to play with Clementine. “Now, Teddy, don’t get so close! It won’t bite, will it, Mama Lucy?” Jessica backed away from the puppy’s playful advances and put a paper bag on the table. “A change of clothing—just in case,” she said.

  “He’ll probably need it. I thought we’d take Clementine for a run…and don’t worry, Jessica. She’s really a gentle dog. She’s just full of herself at this stage.”

  Jessica nodded. “She certainly has large feet.” She gave her son a kiss. “Well, I’d better get out there and start rounding up the treasures.”

  “Can’t you stay for a cup of coffee—I mean, tea? I have some nice herbal mint.” Jessica wouldn’t drink anything with caffeine in it.

  Jessica smoothed back a straying wisp of ash-blond hair and smiled. “I’d really like to, but I have a lot of things to collect, so I guess I’d better get on with it.” She wore slim black pants with a white turtleneck sweater, and a long fringed gray-and-black shawl thrown about her shoulders made her look elegant and tall—which, of course, she was. Lucy just wished her daughter-in-law would wear more color and relax more. She was always in such a hurry.

  “I suppose Lydia Tillman’s donating one of her dolls with the crocheted dresses?” Lucy said.

  Jessica made a face. “Of course. Somebody will bid on it. They always do. And Jo Nell’s holding a couple of her oil paintings for us.”

  “Oh dear!” Lucy laughed. Her cousin turned out dreadful paintings year after year to d
onate to the annual auction. People usually bid generously as the proceeds went to the local care center, then stored the atrocities in the attic. “Don’t we have anything good?”

  “Oh, sure! A beautiful quilt from the sewing circle, hand-smocked dresses for little girls, and a lot of Christmas ornaments. The town merchants have been generous, too. This year we’re adding a raffle, so don’t forget to buy some tickets. Lollie Pate’s giving us that gorgeous soup tureen that’s been in her window, and the Tea Room’s donating several gift certificates.”

  Lucy had been eyeing the tureen as a possible Christmas gift for Julie, but it was a little more than she could afford to pay. Maybe I’ll get lucky, she thought as she and Teddy ran with the puppy that afternoon in Rutledge Park. It was a golden kind of day, with the crisp scent of leaves and just enough breeze to send them flying. They paused to watch the fish in the lily pond, tried the drinking fountain that seldom worked and were rewarded with a warm, metallic-tasting splash. Lucy listened to Teddy’s laughter as he and Clementine rolled and tumbled in masses of autumn color on the grass and chased each other around the monuments in the park. If only Charlie were there beside her, Lucy thought, then smiled. Somehow she felt he was—and he was smiling, too. Watching them, she knew these moments would make an indelible imprint on her heart. All in all it had been a satisfying day. Earlier she and Ellis had faxed the photo of Florence to the bus stations that had fax machines along the route and mailed out fliers to others—including Lucy’s former roommate, Nettie’s niece and Julie in Georgia.

  Before sealing the envelope to her daughter, Lucy had slipped in the final draft of a note written the night before:

  My own Julie, although we might not always agree, your friends have always been, and remain, welcome in our home, and I do hope you and Buddy will be able to join us for Thanksgiving. With much love always, Mom.

  Now all she could do was wait.

  The church fellowship hall was already crowded when they arrived at a little after five that afternoon. Teddy, who hadn’t been too sure about the bearded man with the big voice, had gradually warmed to Ben Maxwell’s gentle manner and now walked hand in hand with his new friend to try his luck at the ring toss booth while Lucy left her butterscotch brownies for the circle cake walk. After Teddy had had a turn at all the games, had his face painted like a clown, and won a bag of Halloween candy and a noisemaker, they progressed to the display of donations up for auction. Lucy put in a silent bid on a hand-embroidered baby bonnet for a friend’s grandchild and a set of Christmas place mats for Ellis, then paid ten dollars for as many raffle tickets on the soup tureen.

  “I know I won’t have a chance,” she whispered to Ben, “but my daughter would love this!” Julie liked anything purple and the tureen had a hand-painted design of pansies in almost every shade of that color. Even the handle on the lid was fashioned like a flower.

  In the area set aside for dining she waved at Ellis, who made room for them at her crowded table. Lucy was glad to see Poag Hemphill there with some of the faculty from the college. He acknowledged her greeting with a smile, but his eyes lacked their usual keen sparkle. Calpernia’s death weighed heavily on him, she thought, although he tried to hide it.

  “What’s the matter with you, boy? Don’t you know what’s good?” Ben teased as Teddy, like most children there, chose tomato soup and a peanut butter sandwich over the Frogmore stew. Lucy was surprised when he even persuaded her grandson to taste one of the shrimp.

  “I think they’re getting ready to draw for the raffle now,” Bennett said later, as he collected their plates. Most people had eaten by now and the clean-up crew was busy in the kitchen when Lucy and Ben, herding a tired little boy along with them, hurried to learn who was the winner. Lucy crossed her fingers as their minister, Pete Whittaker, reached into the basket to draw out the winning number. It wasn’t hers.

  “Oh, glory!” Opal Henshaw shrieked from the back of the room. “It’s mine! I’ve got the number right here!” And she scurried to collect it.

  Lucy turned to Ben and made a face. “Rats!” she said as Opal, resisting offers to help, carried her prize to her car.

  “Never mind, Mama Lucy,” Teddy said sleepily. “Maybe you’ll win something else.”

  And she did. The second drawing was for a simple ceramic pitcher in silver and bronze from a local craftsman, and Lucy was delighted to claim it. The colors would be perfect in Jessica’s dining room if she could just keep it a secret until Christmas. And although she didn’t get the place mats, she did put in the highest bid on the baby bonnet, so the evening had been a success in more ways than one.

  After turning Teddy over to his parents, Lucy and Ben offered their assistance to the few who remained in the kitchen. Bennett, scrubbing out the last of the huge pots, threw them a couple of dish towels and gratefully accepted. Lucy was sweeping the floor when she heard angry words just beyond the door.

  “I can’t believe I paid good money for a ticket on a broken tureen!” Opal Henshaw said, “No wonder you donated it, Lollie Pate! The lid has a great big crack in it!”

  “Then you must’ve dropped it,” Lollie said. “It wasn’t like that when I gave it to them. Just ask Jessica. She’s the one who collected it this afternoon. She’ll tell you it wasn’t broken.”

  “Well, it’s broken now, and I want a replacement,” Opal said. “It should be your business to make good on it.”

  Lollie’s voice was low and dull but it had a final edge to it. “I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t do that,” she said.

  “Then I’m sure you know you’ll be getting no more business out of me!” the other woman snipped.

  Lucy jumped when she heard the outside door slam and laid the broom aside to find Lollie leaning against the wall, her makeup streaked with tears.

  “Lollie, are you all right?” Lucy seated her in a chair and Ellis brought a glass of water from the kitchen. “Here, drink up. That was a nasty thing for Opal to say and I hope you’ll just consider the source.”

  Lollie nodded and tried to smile. “It wasn’t broken,” she said hoarsely.

  “Of course it wasn’t,” Ellis said. “I saw it myself. That idiot probably dropped it in the parking lot.”

  “I’m sorry this happened, Lollie,” Bennett told her. “You were more than generous to let us have it.” He helped her get to her feet. “Would you like us to take you home?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. I have my car.”

  “Then we’ll walk to the parking lot with you,” Ben offered.

  “Poor Lollie,” Lucy said as the four of them stood watching her drive away. “Somebody should swat Opal Henshaw for making her cry like that!”

  “Or just on general principles. I’d like to get in line to kick her butt,” Ellis whispered to Lucy as they went inside together. “She certainly didn’t help matters any, but I noticed Lollie coming out of the ladies’ room earlier tonight and I could almost swear she’d been crying.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Who’s not here?” Idonia asked, looking about. “Seems like somebody’s missing.”

  Zee spoke up, raising her coffee cup. “All present and accounted for.”

  It was Monday morning and The Thursdays sat around Lucy’s kitchen table with an account of their findings of the past few days. Ellis, who had been allowed to come since she knew what was going on anyway, grinned at Lucy across the table. Augusta had left the day before for a visit with her former apprentice, Penelope, and The Thursdays, although not aware of the angel’s presence, seemed to sense the void.

  “All right then, let’s get on with it,” Lucy said. “Zee, why don’t you and Claudia tell us what you found when you showed Florence’s photograph in the beauty shops?”

  Nettie waved a hand and half-rose from her seat. “Don’t you want to tell them about—”

  “Later!” Lucy shushed her. “One thing at a time.”

  “Tell us about what?” Jo Nell wanted to know.

  With a nod from Lu
cy, Zee ignored her and announced in a loud voice their lack of success with the cosmetologists in the area. “Of course we might have missed some, but we covered as many as we could.”

  “Lucy and I faxed the flier to several of the bus stations and mailed out the rest,” Ellis said. “Let’s hope something comes of it.” She didn’t look too hopeful.

  “Some little old policeman who looked about twelve years old was over here looking for those rings the other day,” Nettie said, “but I don’t think he found anything. Florence must’ve had’em on her when she died.”

  “If it was Florence,” Jo Nell said, shaking her head.

  “It was.” Ellis spoke softly. “The DNA was a match.”

  “I knew it! I just knew it!” Jo Nell said. “Imagine finding her way home after all these years just to wind up dead before we had a chance to welcome her back.”

  “At least she got to sleep in her old room again,” Idonia muttered, shaking her head.

  “Which leads us to this,” Lucy said when the chatter died down. She took the pin she had been guarding all weekend and placed it on the table in front of her. “Nettie and I found this in the closet in the room where Florence had been sleeping. It was hidden in an opening beneath one of the shelves.”

  “How did you know it was there?” Idonia asked, and Nettie explained about the hiding place. “It was her secret place,” she said. “I’d almost forgotten about it.”

  Claudia held out her hand for the pin. “It’s lovely! Where do you suppose she got it?”

  “According to the manager of the residence where Florence was staying, it wasn’t among her possessions,” Ellis told them. “I spoke with her Friday and she called me back last night. They discourage their guests from keeping valuables on the premises, but she spoke with Leonard Fenwick to get an accounting of any jewelry Florence might have had with her. She had some pearl earrings that had belonged to the woman who raised her, some silver and jade bracelets, and a few other things. He said he’d check and see if anything was missing. Her husband has been keeping her engagement and wedding rings in a safety deposit box.”