Too Late for Angels

by Mignon F. Ballard

  Lollie Pate was probably a few pounds heavier than she was, but Lucy had it over her in height, and although Lollie didn’t seem to have a weapon, one could easily be concealed in the pocket of her coat. Lucy thought of the cell phone tucked in her purse she had left on the floor behind her. If she could just get her hands on it, it would only take a few seconds to summon help. “Who?” she asked. “What pin, Lollie?”

  “Shirley, of course! Or Florence—whatever her name was! Don’t pretend with me. She left it with you, didn’t she? Where have you hidden it?”

  Lucy inched backward toward the purse. “Tell me about the pin, Lollie. Why do you want it?”

  “I must have it! You don’t understand. She took it, you see, and I have to get it back. My life depends on it.” Lollie’s voice rose and her hand trembled as she shoved the hair from her face. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you, Lucy. Just give me the pin. Please!”

  The purse was only a few inches away. “Nothing will happen to you if you only turn yourself in,” Lucy said, keeping an eye on the other woman’s face. “Just tell them the truth. They’ve been looking for you, Lollie. They want to help.”

  “Bullshit! You must think I’m a total fool. They want to lock me away—blame me for everything. Do you know what it’s like to be afraid to go home? To have to live out of your car?” Lollie thrust her hands in her pockets and moved closer. “I’ve been watching you, you know. Waiting. I followed you here today.”

  Lucy drew herself up and stood her ground. One good smack would send this rotten little twit right into next week. If she didn’t have a gun, that is! “What’s so important about that pin?” she asked. “Why do you think Florence had it?”

  “It belonged to that bitch Calpernia. Shirley—that little thief—took it from the cottage, must’ve sneaked it into her pocket when I wasn’t looking.” Lollie held out a hand—empty, Lucy noticed thankfully. “Why won’t you just give it to me? The pin is all I’m after. You don’t need it, but I do. It’s my insurance, my only chance!”

  “Your only chance for what? You’re not making any sense,” Lucy said. “And do you honestly think I would carry expensive jewelry around with me?”

  “My only chance for life. He’s after me now, too. I’m next, don’t you see? But as long as I have the pin, he won’t dare do anything!”

  “He?”

  “Poag. Poag Hemphill, that lying low-life slime, and who knows where he is now? He could be here at any minute.” Lollie’s mouth quivered. “Just take me to your house, please,” she begged. “You can have my shop, my house—anything, if you’ll let me have that pin.”

  “That was you at the Folly, wasn’t it, that afternoon I was out there gathering cornstalks? You were looking for that pin.” Lucy remembered the eerie feeling of being watched.

  “Poag was furious when he discovered it missing. If Shirley had taken it, everyone would know where it came from, and he couldn’t afford that. I was hoping it might’ve fallen behind something, but now I know better. What have you done with it, Lucy?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lollie, I don’t even have the pin. I turned it into the police yesterday.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Lollie dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief.

  “I don’t care if you do or not, it’s true,” Lucy told her. “And why should I believe those lies about Poag?” she asked. “You were the one who lured Florence off that bus in Greenville and brought her here to Stone’s Throw. Surely you could see the woman wasn’t quite right—but that just suited your purpose, didn’t it?” Lucy slid her foot to the side and felt her heel come in contact with the purse. “Why did you kill her, Lollie?” she asked softly.

  “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to. I called your house and told her that her mother was waiting for her in the church parking lot—she kept talking about her mother, you know. She got frightened when she saw me there and ran away when I tried to get her back into the car. She fell down those steps—I’ll swear to God!” Lollie wiped away a tear. “I wouldn’t have hurt that poor soul for the world! I’ll tell you, it’s just about torn me up inside—and how was I to know she was the little girl who used to live in your house? You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when she jumped from the car at that stop sign and ran up on your porch like a crazy person.”

  “Just what did you intend to do with Florence?” Lucy asked.

  “It was all his idea. He lied to me—told me he loved me, that we’d be together. But all he wanted was that land—Calpernia’s land. Poag planned it all.”

  Lucy spoke softly. “You look like you could use a tissue…and do you know you have dirt on your pants?” When Lollie looked down to brush off her slacks, Lucy picked up her purse and opened it, scooping up the cell phone with one hand as she gave the packet of tissues to Lollie. “What on earth would Poag Hemphill want with Florence?” she asked.

  Lollie almost smiled. “Didn’t you notice? She looked like her.”

  Lucy frowned. “Like who?”

  “Why, Calpernia, of course! I noticed it as soon as I saw her sitting on that bus, and then, when I had a chance to talk with her, I could see she was—well, a few pickles shy of a quart. Why, she couldn’t even remember where she lived. All she could talk about was going back to find her mother. With a different hairdo and makeup, I knew I could make her look enough like Calpernia Hemphill to fool everybody. After all, she would only be seen from a distance.”

  That’s why Nettie had said that Florence looked familiar. She had been made up to look like Calpernia! Lucy swallowed. “I see,” she said. And regrettably she did. “So Calpernia Hemphill was already dead when her husband left with the chorus for Europe? Did you push her from the Folly?”

  “No! No!” Lollie Pate screamed, her face red and contorted. “I never touched her! I never killed anybody.”

  “You just helped to plan it.”

  “I did it for him! Poag and I…well, we had something special, or at least I thought we did, but after Calpernia died he didn’t even want to be in the same room with me. Told me it was a safety precaution, that we’d get together later, but I could see it was over—and after all I did!”

  Lucy’s fingers closed around the phone, counted the buttons…

  “Nobody was supposed to die,” Lollie whined.

  “Except Calpernia.”

  Lollie nodded. “Right, except Calpernia, and Poag took care of that. Took her out to the Folly on a hike the afternoon before he left on that tour.”

  “But Calpernia was afraid of heights.”

  Lollie smiled. “Too bad she wasn’t afraid of Poag! He got her up in that tower by telling her he wanted to get a better view so she could explain how she planned to develop her precious theater workshop.” Her laugh sounded more like a groan. “Poag wasn’t about to let valuable land go to waste like that when a developer was willing to pay big bucks to build a fancy golf course out there.”

  “What did you plan to do about Florence? Weren’t you afraid she would give you away?” It was difficult to use a cell phone when you couldn’t see what you were doing and Lucy hoped she was pressing the right buttons for 911. She tried to hold Lollie’s attention so she wouldn’t notice.

  “Not from L.A.!” Lollie reached for her arm. “Come on, let’s go to your place. I know you have that pin somewhere.”

  Lucy had almost completed the call, all she had to do was send it. “L.A.? You mean Los Angeles?”

  “I was going to put Shirley on a plane to California. It was far enough away so she’d never find her way back, and once they discovered her wandering around the airport out there, it wouldn’t take them long to realize she belonged in some kind of institution.” Lollie shrugged. “I told her her mother was out there…hey, what’re you doing?”

  “Get out of my way! I’ve had just about enough of you.” Lucy pushed her aside. The phone was dialing the number.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t two of my favorite people! How nice to find you to
gether.” Poag Hemphill stood only a few feet behind them and held out his hand. “I’ll take that cell phone, please.” In his other hand he held a gun and it was pointed right at Lucy.

  Was this the man who not so very long ago had taught her to rumba at one of the many parties he and Calpernia hosted? The man she always enjoyed playing bridge with because he knew such great jokes?

  He wasn’t joking now. Lucy felt as if an empty cast of herself were standing there. The hand holding the cell phone seemed to be frozen in place. Words formed in her head but she couldn’t get them out of her mouth. Would she ever see her family again?

  “The phone,” Poag repeated. “Give me the cell phone, Lucy Nan.”

  Someone answered at the other end of the line. She could hear a voice, but couldn’t make out the words. “The barn at Bellawood!” Lucy shouted. “Hurry!” And she threw the phone as hard as she could at Poag Hemphill’s face.

  It missed him by inches as he stepped quickly to the side. “Nice try, but no cigar,” he said, kicking the phone out of reach. The hand with the gun remained steady. “If anyone heard you—which I doubt—they’ll never get here in time. Too bad, because I’ve always been fond of you, Lucy Nan. It’s not a good idea, you know, to probe about in affairs that don’t concern you. It does seem a shame, though, to do away with this venerable old building.”

  For the first time Lucy noticed the kerosene lantern he had set on the floor behind him. She could smell the acrid scent as she watched the lighted wick flicker blue in the wind. “Why?” When Lucy spoke, it sounded like somebody else’s voice.

  His laughter had no sound. “Can you really see all that beautiful land at the Folly turned into some kind of theater colony? Now I support the arts as much as the next person, but that’s going to the extreme. Why, if Calpernia had her way, they would have started on the amphitheater by Christmas!”

  “You’re crazy! I’m sorry I ever had anything to do with this!” Lollie tried to run past, but he pivoted like a dancer, swung her about, and threw her in Lucy’s direction where she stumbled and fell to the floor. “I’d rather not put a bullet in your head, Lollie dear. It would just ricochet in your empty little skull,” he told her.

  Lucy kept her eyes on the lantern. “Why did you have to kill Boyd Henry? He was never a threat to you.”

  “Lollie seemed to think he was. Ask her.” He glanced briefly at the woman who now crouched crying at Lucy’s feet. “I’m afraid he made the mistake of approaching Lollie about the night that Shirley woman was killed. Said he saw her leaving the parking lot at the Methodist Church when he was out planting tulips that night. It’s as bright as day in front of that church with all the lights they have out there, and old Boyd Henry, bless his heart, never missed a thing. Wanted to know if she noticed anything unusual going on.”

  Lollie Pate, still sobbing, crawled to her feet. “He wouldn’t leave me alone! Every time I turned around, there was Boyd Henry Goodwin wantin’ to know if that wasn’t a new car I’d been driving that night, and was I sure I hadn’t seen anything. I could tell he didn’t believe me. Something was bothering him, he said, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he told somebody else. He just about drove me crazy!”

  “So you came to me, and of course I had to get him out of the way,” Poag said. “Just what did you expect me to do?” He looked at Lucy with a smug smile. “The Saxons’ pool was a clever touch, don’t you agree? I called and told him Ellis and I were as concerned as he was about what was going on, and asked him to meet us there. Couldn’t swim a lick—can you believe it?”

  Lucy watched in horror as he picked up the lantern, motioning to them with the gun. “As much as I’m enjoying this little chat, tempus fugit, as they say, and I think it’s time for a tour of the tackroom—a brief tour, in your case.” Swinging the lantern, he urged them in front of him. “I wouldn’t try running if I were you. I may not be much of a shot, but I can hardly miss at this distance.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this after all we had between us,” Lollie said, reaching out to him. “You know I care about you, Poag! I’ll never tell a soul—I promise! We can go somewhere together—someplace where nobody knows us.”

  “I’ll admit I found you enticing—even amusing—for a period, and I do thank you for your part in helping to arrange for Calpernia’s last bow—so to speak, but I’m afraid your services are no longer required, my dear girl.” Poag Hemphill held the lantern in front of him. “Step lively, now, ladies,” he said, raising his voice. “My patience is wearing thin.”

  Lucy’s patience was wearing thin as well, and she had no intention of allowing that fool to lock her in the tackroom. I’d rather be shot than burned to death, she thought, but would prefer to avoid either. And what was taking Augusta so long? If this was how she watched over her charges, she needed to get her angel status upgraded to dependable. She should have been back by now.

  Should she run now and take a chance on being shot, or wait for a better opportunity? Lucy wondered. She was running out of time and the tackroom was only a few feet away when the light scent of strawberries told her Augusta was near. And there she stood directly in front of them, her hand resting on a shelf beside the tackroom door.

  Fear and anger simmered to the boiling point inside her. If she opened her mouth she would spew lava, Lucy thought. Here she was about to become barbecue and Augusta Goodnight stood before her as relaxed and unconcerned as if they were waiting in line for a movie. The angel’s fingers drummed a light tattoo next to the half-filled bottle of water Jay had left behind.

  Bottle of water! Poag was so concerned about getting them inside the narrow room, he didn’t see Lucy snatch up the bottle, and when he set down the lantern to herd them inside, she threw its contents over the wick of the kerosene lantern and watched the flame sputter into smoke.

  “In the corner! Quickly!” Augusta directed, following them into the straw-littered room. The corner? Does she think Poag won’t notice me in the corner? Lucy looked where Augusta pointed. Where the burlap sacks were piled.

  Lollie’s screaming distracted Poag for only a few seconds, but it was long enough for Lucy to snatch up one of the rough brown sacks and throw it over his head, then, giving him a swift kick in the place where she thought it would hurt the most, she tackled him and threw Poag Hemphill to the floor. In all the confusion, she didn’t notice he had dropped the gun until Lollie picked it up.

  “Help me, Lollie!” Lucy sat on Poag’s struggling form. “I know I saw some rope hanging out there somewhere. Help me tie him up!”

  But Lollie just stood there and for a few seconds looked from the gun in her hand to the two people on the floor, and then she turned and ran. Unfortunately for her, she tripped over a bale of straw that hadn’t been there before.

  “Lucy Nan, are you all right?” Ellis raced to a stop in the doorway. “And who’s that you’re sitting on?”

  “Poag Hemphill, and I’m getting tired of it.” Lucy gave her a brief rundown of what had happened. “Do you think you could give me a hand?”

  Ellis grinned. “Love to!” She plopped down on the moaning form with a thump. “Bennett’s outside with the police. They got your call and were just in time to greet our friend Lollie.”

  “But she has a gun!” Lucy said.

  “Turned out to be a prop gun,” Ellis said. “All it does is make a loud noise.”

  Lucy, who had been binding her prisoner mummy-style, pulled the rope a little tighter.

  “Where were you?” Lucy asked as the two of them walked back to the main house, leaving the police in charge of Poag. “Bennett was worried to death.”

  “I did go out to Lollie’s, but not by myself,” Ellis said. “I took your advice and let the police handle it.” She grinned. “Talked Ed and Sheila into meeting me there. Guess I clean forgot the time.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Zilch! But Ed says they’ve been talking to this woman who runs one of those little dinky motels a fe
w miles outside of town, and it sounds like Lollie and Florence might’ve been staying there.”

  “They’re a pair, aren’t they—Lollie and Poag? They deserve each other!” Lucy walked a little faster. She was dying for a cup of coffee and a bathroom—not necessarily in that order.

  “Augusta had a feeling something was wrong out here,” Ellis said. “She caught up with us at Lollie’s and couldn’t get back fast enough. Heck, I reckon I made Bennett break every speed record getting here to see if you were okay. If the police hadn’t been so eager to catch Lollie, they’d probably put both of us under the jail.”

  “At least you’re not a suspect anymore,” Lucy said. “You ought to make that Elmer Harris eat crow!”

  “Thanks to you and Augusta—and The Thursdays, of course. Guess it doesn’t hurt to have an angel on your side!” Ellis looked about. “Say, where is Augusta? I know I saw her a few minutes ago.”

  “Probably gone back to the house where it’s warm. You know how cold-natured she is.”

  Ellis frowned. “You mean your house in town? How does she do that?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Beats me. I don’t care how she does it as long as she sticks around. That house is too big for one person.”

  Ellis glanced at the woodworking shop as they paused at the gate. “What about Ben?” she asked, giving Lucy a slight jab with her elbow.

  Lucy jabbed back. “Don’t rush me. Besides, if Ben could see Augusta, I’d have tough competition. I think she has a crush on him.” She quickened her pace as they approached the main house. “I hope the police will make their questions short. I’m ready for a long, hot soak in the tub and maybe some of Augusta’s soup.”

  “Better tell her to make enough for three,” Ellis said, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “I almost forgot—you have company! When I called your house earlier to see if you’d gotten home from Bellawood, Julie answered the phone.”