by Ann B. Ross
“I don’t think it’s ever stopped,” I said, leaning my head against the sofa. “Let me give this aspirin fifteen more minutes, and I’ll go get the children.”
“I don’t know what you doin’ with a headache. You don’t hardly ever get such a thing. Mrs. Conover worryin’ you to death?”
“You could say that. Lillian—” I said, then stopped, wondering how much to reveal to anybody. Then decided, not much. “What’s the word from Thurlow? Have you heard how he’s doing?”
“Drivin’ ever’body crazy out at that long-term place where they put him. I seen Miss Edna who work out there, an’ she say he pretty bad off, an’ his temper even worse. Somethin’ gonna have to be done, one way or ’nother, but nobody know what it is.”
“Well,” I said, “he can just loosen his purse strings and pay whatever it takes. Even if he has to bring somebody in from out of town who doesn’t know him.”
“Um,” Lillian said, which was either agreement or not, depending. “Well, Miss Edna say he been havin’ a visitor who come in an’ stay a few minutes, then come stompin’ out like she mad as fire. But she keep on comin’ back.”
I perked up at that. “She?”
“Yes’m, she. An’ I hate to carry tales, but ever’body workin’ out there know who it is, so I guess it don’t matter if ever’body in town know it, too.”
“Well, for goodness’ sakes, who is it?”
“Miss Helen. Miss Helen Stroud.”
Of course, it was Mrs. Helen Stroud, although she’d discarded her lying husband years before, but why strain at a gnat when you’re asked to swallow a hornet?
“Helen!” I popped right up—LuAnne, Leonard, Totsie, and headache all forgotten. “What is she doing visiting him? I thought that was over and done with, though I never understood it in the first place.”
Some years back, and as strange as it had seemed to everybody, Helen and Thurlow had taken an unlikely interest in each other. It was only after the first shock of it had worn off that most of us thought that Helen had lost her mind, but that Thurlow had hit the jackpot. Helen had put that shambles of a house of his in decent order, made him shave every day, put some decent clothes on him, and had even gotten him to church. Then it had all fallen apart, and I, for one, had been relieved, even though Thurlow had quickly fallen back into his old, trifling ways. It is truly hard to teach old dogs new tricks, and neither Thurlow nor Ronnie were suitable subjects for a total makeover. But, I’ll tell you this: neat, self-contained, and fastidious Helen and that skinny, foul-mouthed tightwad would’ve been the most incompatible and unimaginable match on the face of the earth.
“Well,” I said, “I guess stranger things have happened, but she probably just wants to see that he’s taken care of. Helen has a strong do-gooder streak in her. That’s why she’s been president of every club, committee, and council she’s ever served on. If there’s any help anywhere for Thurlow, she’ll find it, and I hope he has enough sense to appreciate it.”
Lillian and I both looked around as a low rumble of thunder rattled the windows. “It startin’ again,” she said.
“Yes, and I’d better get over to the tennis courts,” I said, dragging myself up. “Call Hazel Marie, if you will, and tell her I’ll be by for Latisha in a few minutes.”
“No’m, you don’t have to. Mr. Sam call an’ say he gettin’ her an’ Lloyd, too, ’cause he already out. They be here in a few minutes.”
“Well, good. Oh, Lillian, I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s the new roof coming along?”
“Real slow. Ev’ry time the roofers come, it start in stormin’ again. I know you ready for us to be out from underfoot, but they say soon as the sun shine for more’n two minutes they’ll get it done.”
I smiled. “Neither you nor Latisha is underfoot. I like having you around, especially when you have such interesting gossip to share.” And, right then, I decided that at an opportune time I would share with her the latest chapter in the ongoing Leonard Conover saga.
—
An opportune time didn’t come until I was preparing for bed that evening, and it wasn’t Lillian but Sam with whom I shared it.
“And Sam,” I said, summing up my courthouse experience, “I’ll tell you the truth, as much as I’d been knocked for a loop by Leonard’s hard head, seeing Totsie pushed me over the edge. It was such a shock that I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I mean, I know I was a little addled, but I almost asked if Velma hadn’t been able to take her this week. See, for a split second, I thought Totsie was LuAnne, and all I could think of was what a mess her hair was in.”
“Julia, Julia,” Sam said, shaking his head, but smiling even so, “why do you get yourself so tangled up in other people’s problems?”
“Wel-l-l, LuAnne wanted me to. And it really did make sense for me to go in. I could’ve come up with a legitimate reason for being there—if I’d been able to think after being whacked so hard—while she’d have been hard pressed for a reason. But, Sam, the thing about it was that I couldn’t tell her how much she and Totsie look alike. I mean, it was downright eerie, and I’m surprised that nobody at the Bluebird has remarked on it.”
“Oh, we’re not that observant.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “And I will admit that all that earth-mother look she has going on, including the bushy head of hair, would distract from the resemblance.”
“Who’s the earth mother? Totsie or LuAnne?”
“Why, Totsie, of course. Sam, you’re not paying attention. LuAnne is always dressed and coifed to a T, and you know it.”
“Coifed?” Sam’s eyebrows went up as his eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Oh, you,” I said, then more seriously, “Do you think Leonard realizes how much they resemble each other? If he’s unhappy with LuAnne, why would he go after somebody just like her?”
“Different personalities, I guess,” Sam said, stepping out of his pants. “Remember he said he was looking for solace, and I think men—maybe women, too—are attracted to specific types. Some people keep marrying essentially the same person time and again.”
“Not always—you couldn’t be more different from Wesley Lloyd—thank the Lord.” The less said about my unlamented first husband the better, but I couldn’t imagine any two types of men so unlike in looks, attitudes, personalities, and character than my first and second husbands. But then, maybe what Sam said was true, because I really hadn’t been all that attracted to my first one to begin with.
“Uh, Julia,” Sam said, as he pulled back the covers on the bed, “sorry to change the subject to a less entertaining one, but when I picked up Latisha, Hazel Marie told me that a big, black car had been parked across the street for most of the morning. She wasn’t sure what make it was, but it worried her so she kept an eye on it from a window. She never saw anybody near it, but she’s about ready to call Pickens to come home.”
“Oh, my word,” I said, stopping halfway on my crawl across the bed. “Sam, maybe it’s time we do something.”
“Well, it’s worrisome, I admit, but we still don’t know if it’s the same car. Hazel Marie said she couldn’t tell a Ford from a Jaguar. Which isn’t all that surprising, I guess. But,” Sam said, punching up his pillow, “I’ve a good mind to sit over at the courts tomorrow as long as Lloyd is there. That is, if it’s not raining and he plays. And if any black cars show up, I’m going to find out who they are and what their business is.”
“Good. I hope you will. But, listen, I’ve had a thought. We’ve been worried about the children, but what if it’s Mr. Pickens they have business with? He runs into all kinds of strange people when he investigates criminal activity, so it stands to reason that some of them could be looking for him. And it was the Pickens car that was broken into at the beach, and the car’s been seen most often around the Pickens house.”
“That’s crossed my mind, too. When is he getti
ng back?”
“Sometime this weekend, Hazel Marie said. She’s not sure exactly.”
“Let’s hope sooner rather than later,” Sam said. “We ought to get together as soon as he gets in, either here or over there. Have Hazel Marie warn him, though, so he doesn’t walk into something at his house.”
“Sam, you’re worrying me.” And I rolled over close to him for the comfort. Or the solace.
“Just thinking ahead, honey, that’s all. And getting mighty tired of black cars.” Sam turned off the lamp and slid down in the bed.
After a few minutes, I said, “You have a black car, and so do I.”
“Well,” he said, stifling a laugh, “I guess there’re black cars, and then there’re black cars.” And we laughed together.
Chapter 40
“Julia,” Sam said as I walked into the kitchen the next morning and found him having breakfast at home for a change. “Have you seen this?” He held up the morning paper.
“No,” I said, smiling in spite of my usual pre-coffee reserve. “I just got up.”
“Well, come look at it. It doesn’t give a lot of details, but it’s about the Great Money Windfall at the beach.”
Craving a much-needed cup of coffee, I glanced at the small article, datelined Charleston, SC, which had been belatedly picked up by the local paper. “Why, Sam, it hardly says anything—nothing more than what we heard the morning it happened.”
“I know, but look at the last sentence mentioning that the Coast Guard patrols that stretch of the coast on the lookout for smugglers. It doesn’t say that the boat was involved in smuggling, but it sure implies it was. Those on board were questioned and released, so, obviously, no evidence was found.”
“Right,” I said, heading for the coffeepot, “maybe because they’d thrown their ill-gotten gains overboard. We’d already figured that out.”
“Wait, honey,” Sam said, holding out the newspaper, “look at this. It says that they questioned and released two men and a woman. And,” he went on, holding up a finger as if he were summing up before a jury, “who did you meet when you and the children took a walk that morning? Two men and a woman!”
“Yes!” I agreed, stopping short as a shiver ran down my back. “And they followed us in the evacuation where Lloyd saw the woman roll down her window!”
For a minute there, it seemed that we had reached a sudden understanding of what was going on. But that quickly faded, because we knew little more than we had before the paper had been delivered. Except that we’d possibly linked the three beach scavengers to the incapacitated boat from which the money had come.
Which meant, it suddenly seemed to me, that they’d been the very ones who’d thrown the money overboard. No wonder Lloyd had felt uneasy with them, and no wonder I could tell in an instant that they weren’t from the South. The only time that people from around here throw money away is when they’re having a good time doing it.
“But the question remains,” Sam said, “why us? Or Lloyd? Or Pickens, or whomever they’re interested in? I saw people clutching handfuls of hundred-dollar bills. None of us got a single one. So-o,” Sam went on in a musing way, “that has to mean that they’re after something besides the money, something more valuable to them than that. I mean, why else risk breaking into Pickens’s car and finding nothing but his address? Which, I’m thinking, may have been all they’d wanted. I tell you, Julia, I’m liking this less and less.”
“And to think that we actually had a pleasant chat with smugglers, and didn’t know it. Well, with only one of them—his name was Rob—because the other two weren’t very friendly. Even at the time, it seemed to me that at least those two were the results of poor raising. Breeding, too, for all I know.”
I could easily have gone off on a digression about family genes, proper child instruction, and good manners, all in an effort not to think of what I was thinking. But it would’ve done no good.
I was thinking it, so I said it. “What on earth could we have that they want so badly?”
“Or,” Sam said, “what do they think we have?”
—
There was no answer to that in our current state of ignorance, so there was nothing for it but to carry on with our normal activities. Lillian had been unusually quiet while Sam and I had discussed the situation, but she hadn’t missed much of the conversation.
As Sam excused himself and left to go upstairs, she said, “Miss Julia, you think the chil’ren be all right?”
“I do, Lillian, I really do. We’re watching them like hawks, and they’re never on their own anywhere. Mr. Pickens will soon be home, and Coleman will be on duty Monday morning. We just need to hold on till then, and they’ll put a stop to whatever’s going on.”
“Yes’m, I guess, but Latisha, she countin’ on goin’ back to Miss Hazel Marie’s today. I don’t want Latisha worryin’ her to death day in and day out, so maybe I ought to let her use that hot gun over here.”
“Whatever you think, Lillian, but Hazel Marie is aware of our concern, and you know she’ll take care of her.”
“Yes’m, I know she will, an’ I tell you, I get more work done when Latisha somewhere else—like in school, which I wish would hurry up and start.”
I smiled at that, listening to the early morning stir emanating from upstairs as Sam and the children readied themselves for the day. Then, clomping down the stairs like a herd of cattle, Latisha and Lloyd came into the kitchen, both dressed for the day—Lloyd in tennis attire and Latisha in a sundress with her red pocketbook draped over her shoulders—crossbody, I think it’s called. She was carrying those plastic sacks of shells that went everywhere she did.
“Tennis all day today, Miss Julia,” Lloyd announced, zipping the cover around his racket. “We’re playing over at that private club with the indoor courts. So if it rains, we’ll still be ready for the team tryouts next week.”
“You’ll have no trouble making the team, I’m sure,” I said, although I knew he was preparing for the challenges that would be coming.
“Well,” Latisha confidently announced, “I’m gonna finish my surprise today. That glue gun is the best thing I ever had. I’m gonna get me one for Christmas. If not before.”
“Uh-huh,” Lillian said with a roll of her eyes.
“Okay, kids,” Sam said, putting his raincoat over his arm, “ready to go?” He leaned over to give me a kiss, then said, “You don’t mind picking them up? Since Lloyd will be playing indoors, I’ll give that mountain property another look, though we’ll probably get rained on again.”
Lillian said, “They say more rain on the way, an’ I b’lieve it. My foot justa achin’ this morning.”
I looked at her with concern. “Well, sit down, Lillian, and elevate it. And, yes, Sam,” I said, turning to him, “I’ll be right here all day so I can get the children whenever they’re ready to come home. Please don’t drown on that mountainside.”
I watched from the door as the children and Sam squished across a waterlogged yard to the car, glanced up at the clouds threatening to unleash more rain, and sighed.
“Lillian,” I said, closing the door and relishing the quiet in the kitchen, “I am so tired of this weather. It’s been one storm after another this whole month, but only one official enough to have a name. Now I want you to take something for that aching foot, then sit down and rest.”
“Yes’m, let me get this last pan in the dishwasher, an’ I think I’ll do jus’ that.”
I went across the back hall to the library, my favorite room in the house, shivering a little in the dampness even though it was August, and debated turning on the gas fire in the fireplace. I resisted, though, and instead slipped on a cotton cardigan, sat down to read the newspaper, and adamantly refused to dwell on what I could do nothing about. Namely, three strangers with an uncommon interest in us.
I’d barely gotten to page three of the p
aper when the phone rang.
“Julia,” LuAnne demanded almost before I got “Hello” out of my mouth, “you’re not busy, are you? I need to talk to you. I want you to be the first to know.”
“Well, no, I’m not busy. When—”
“Good, because I’m at the front door. Come let me in.”
Thinking What in the world has she done, I hurried to the door through which LuAnne immediately marched, stiff and resolute. I followed her, murmuring a greeting, as she went directly to the library and took a seat on the sofa.
“Julia, you’re the first one I’m telling, and I want you to know that I have no regrets and no second thoughts. I’m leaving Leonard.”
“Oh, LuAnne, are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m here, aren’t I? And I’ve already told him, so the die is cast. I mean, after what I’ve learned, thanks to you, how could I stay with him? And when what he’s just done gets around, nobody will blame me.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what else has he done?”
“He picked her up after work yesterday, walked out of the courthouse together as big as you please. He’s gone public with her, and I am not going to put up with it. I got a good look at her and she was just as you described—ankle-length dress and all. But, Julia, you didn’t notice enough details, because I cannot believe what she looks like. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it.”
Oh, me, I mentally moaned, thinking that LuAnne had seen her own resemblance to Totsie. How hurt she must be that Leonard prefers a frowzier, though slightly younger, version of herself.
“Maybe,” I said, temporizing before committing myself, “being knocked on the head affected my vision.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get an eyeful soon enough, because she’ll probably move in as soon as I move out. Which won’t be long. I’m on my way now to look at Miss Mattie’s apartment. If she could afford it, I probably can too.”
“I hope you’ve thought this through, LuAnne. Are you sure you want to burn your bridges? It’s a big step to make.”
