Scandal

by Patsy Brookshire

  I noticed what Annie was wearing. "Lord, girl, do you think that neckline's low enough?"

  She tugged at the neckline of the dark blue sweater, trying to bring it up so not quite so much cleavage was showing.

  "That doesn't help much. I like your skirt, love the way it sways, and florals are my favorite, but, a skirt to the beach?" I went into my room and brought her a camisole. "Save the boobs for him, I'd rather look at fabric." I threw it to her.

  She sat down at the table and laid the lacy camisole in her lap. Took a sip of her coffee.

  "That guy's got you in a tailspin," I said while I filled my bowl with Wheat Chex, poured on the milk, sprinkled on some sugar and ate with an appetite that surprised me.

  Annie mumbled through a bite of toast, "Yeah. I guess."

  I couldn't say that I was any better. I should have been thinking about Tommy and was wondering how Sammy would like me in pink? Were we crazy, or what?

  Hormones. I'd thought I was done with that stuff, until Sammy and I stumbled back into each other's lives. I'd worried that I was in a pickle, being married and all, but now that problem's solved. Sorta, kinda.

  I still couldn't figure out who'd killed him. I knew it wasn't me. Why was he in the back yard?

  "He'll be here any minute. Thanks for this, I'll give it back to you."

  For a minute I was confused, as I'd been thinking of Tommy. He? Oh, Len. "Just don't let him tear it off you!"

  She laughed, dumped the last of her coffee into the sink and went into the guest room. A few minutes later she came out, wearing the camisole and carrying the sheets from her bed. "I'll put these in the washer. Where do you keep your clean sheets? You want the bed to be fresh for Sam."

  I pointed to the linen closet just as the doorbell rang. Len. I let him in.

  She was right behind me, clean sheets in hand. "Just in time to help me make a bed."

  He is cute, especially when he smiles like that, though there is still something about him that puts me off.

  "Glad to be of help." They went into the bedroom while I gave the kitchen a slapdash wash up.

  "All ready!" When they came out, Annie's face had a soft glow that hadn't been there before.

  Len patted my shoulder, said something about hanging in there, and opened the front door for us. "Beauty before age." He swept us out the door in front of him.

  As I passed him I said, "You're a sweet talker, ain't you?"

  He didn't answer, but smiled as he closed the door behind us.

  Annie and I gasped together when we saw what was in the driveway.

  Chapter 22

  Retrieving Sampson

  In the driveway was a classic powder-blue Thunderbird. four-door. Len stepped to the front passenger door "You called Madam? Your carriage awaits."

  "Oh, Len. It's beautiful. I had no idea you had such a fantastic car." I trailed my hand against the light blue paint as I walked to the front to admire the classic Thunderbird logo stretched across the wide grill, the wings of the powerful icon balancing either side.

  Len came up beside me, saying, as he put his hand on my shoulder, "Oh, this old thing?" He leaned close to whisper, "I do have my secrets," and nibbled ever so lightly on my ear.

  Magda said, "Ahem!" right behind us. "Now, that's why I'm coming along." She stared at the car, finally said, "I should'a guessed you'd have a fancy rig to match your talk."

  "Oh, Miz Magda, you say the sweetest things." He left me to my examination of the car and went to Magda, who was standing beside the rear door on the driver's side. He opened it, offering his hand to help her in.

  She put her purse and coat into his hand and slid onto the black leather seat, going only halfway across. "I'll just stop here so I can be close behind to help you with your driving." She took her purse and coat, placing them beside her, and buckled up. "Glad to see you've modernized her."

  "Hey, of course. It's the law." He shut her door, gently, but with a firm thrust.

  I was at my door and reaching for the handle when he called, "Wait a minute, I'll be right there." He crossed behind me to grasp the handle and give it dramatic pull as he opened it. Bowing slightly, he waved me in. "Miz Annie."

  We followed the same road as I'd taken the week before, but with more attention from other travelers. Len loved it, raising a finger off the steering wheel in acknowledgement of honks or waves. I think he was sorry we made such good time, so much so that he passed up the first entrance into Cannon Beach and drove the few miles to come into town from the north end, allowing him to parade the T-bird back through town.

  We took the street that parallels the ocean. Shops lined both sides, mostly old cottages with multipane windows and flowerboxes, now converted into specialty stores, galleries, or cozy restaurants. The dirt or gravel alleyways were red-bricked over, each brick edged with green moss. Streetlamps hung with flower baskets, pansies and nasturtiums flowing over the edges. Attractive to people, but slow going for cars. Our stately creep gave folks time to admire the car, and Len to absorb the glory.

  "I think this street is one of the most interesting in Oregon, don't you?" I was surprised to see a smile on his face. His dark eyes were large with happiness, unlike the frustration of most people I'd ridden with here, caught up in this everlasting road jam. The two-lane street was bordered with parked cars and both lanes were moving slowly.

  "I don't think I ever thought about it. It's always been this way." I said.

  "No, not always." Magda said from the back seat. "In the old days there were few stores. These shops were cabins for rent. The streets were muddy and full of gravel from the side roads. But the town always did have traffic. When I first met Sammy it was crowded on the weekends, but not jammed up all summer, like now."

  Ah, a chance to clear up something. I turned around. "So, when was that? When did you meet Sam?"

  "Let me see. I was about thirty when I came down to stay with my friends at his cabins. That was thirty-seven years ago. Sam was fifty, thereabouts. And good looking, too, let me tell you. Those blue eyes and cute butt.

  "He's still a good looking man. Lucky, too. Can still walk and talk, and think."

  She's smitten. I'm happy for Sam.

  We'd traveled the full length of Cannon Beach, past town now, to an easy turn-off to the beachside house.

  Wider than the cabin Aunt Sophie had described to me, the house was now substantial, with a driveway to a garage where the chicken yard used to be. No lines out for washing. No outhouse. Modern, yet it holds the charm of an old place. Still an apple tree in the yard by the road. A small garden surrounded by a white picket fence in need of painting. But then, things on the coast almost always need painting.

  We'd barely pulled into the yard when Sam came from behind the house, along the brick path. "Well, there you are. I thought you'd never get here. How late did you leave, anyway?"

  Len got out of the car to shake his hand. "You never change, still giving fits after all these years."

  "Len? For Gawd's sake, I'd'a thought you'd'a died of meanness by now. Where'd Annie pick you up?"

  I came around the car to give him a hug. "We were hitchhiking down the highway and he picked us up. Didn't you meet Len at the Fair? He's the one took that photo of the bug stomp, the one on the front page of the Salem paper."

  "Yeah. Helped us in the long run. We won the prize for exhibit that drew the most interest, the most visitors. All thanks to you. Glad to have you on our team."

  They had only met a few times, the first being long ago when I'd taken Len to Sophie's Cabins while we were still dating, before I finally took Aunt Sophie's advice, and dumped him.

  Len said, "I'm going to take a quick run on the beach while you two gather up 'Ol Sam, here. Okay?" He'd already reached into the car for his jacket.

  "Teri's cooking up a bit of lunch for us, so don't be gone too long," Sam said. Len threw up an arm to show he'd heard, and went on. I watched him go between two of the cabins. The air had a light, damp mist. I breathed it
in, loving the smell of brine and seaweed. Refreshing.

  Magda stopped at the bathroom when we went inside.

  To Sam I said, "Bring your work basket, the one with pruning shears and stuff to work on Magda's yard." I wasn't really sure how much Sam was capable of doing anymore but I know he's got the magic touch when it comes to anything with plants. I think he'd liked to have been a farmer. He has a degree in agriculture. Magda's yard would be a cinch for him.

  "Good, I'm glad you thought of it. You know I like to get my hands dirty."

  While he went into the garage I went through to the kitchen. When Magda joined me, I introduced her to Teri, who was setting out an easy lunch of canned chili and hot dogs.

  "Magda, I'm glad to meet you. Sorry it's under such not-so-good circumstances." She took Magda's hands in hers. "I'm sorry for your loss. Annie, there's some salad makings on the counter here. If you could mix that up we'll be about ready." She gave Magda's hands a good squeeze, and then let her go, and looked around. "When you called this morning I thought you said you were bringing your old beau. Len?"

  "He's taking a quick run on the beach. When he gets back he can eat what's leftover." To stop any more talk about him, I said, "Will Dave and Connor be having lunch with us?"

  She handed me the silverware and gave Magda a tray with a packet of buns, and bottles of hot dog fixings. "No, Dave's driving truck today and Connor is at school, so it's just us. I stayed home so I could see you and get Gramps off." I chopped tomatoes and lettuce and a cucumber and we were ready. Teri went to the garage door and hollered for Sam. "Hey, kid! Grub's on, better get in here if you want some."

  Sam came in quickly, "I don't need to be called twice!" To me he said, "I've set my toolbox just outside the garage door. When Len comes back he can lift it into the trunk. I'm good at a lot of things but lifting that toolbox isn't one of them. Do me good to see him work."

  At that we heard a knock on the door and Len opened it. "It's me."

  "Come right on in," hollered Teri from the kitchen. "Everybody sit there at the table." She came out, handed the plated dogs to me, gave Magda a large bowl of chili with a serving spoon. While we took the food to the table, she went back to get a small bowl of chopped onions and a glass of buttermilk. "Anybody else want buttermilk? Gramps gotta have it."

  "Helps with the heartburn," he said, and laughed.

  Len had just come in after throwing his jacket on a bench by the door.

  Teri said, "We've never met. I'm Teri, Dave's wife. Set yourself down, we don't stand on ceremony around here."

  Which he did, in the chair by me.

  He concocted his chili dog combo with relish, adding cheese and onions with abandon.

  Sam made himself a chili dog, adding the onions sparingly, saying quietly, almost to himself, "Gosh, I love onions but they don't love me so much anymore." That was his second reference to advancing years, I wondered if he was feeling nervous about Magda, his younger woman.

  I leaned across the table and whispered to him, "We have antacid in the car. Enjoy your lunch." He tucked in.

  "I found an old quilt of Sophie's that she never finished. I wanted Magda to complete it for me but she's going to teach me how to do it."

  "It's an interesting project and a good one for her to learn on. It will be a challenge."

  Sam said, "And you could do with a distraction right now. Annie's a good one for that."

  "How's that?" I asked.

  "You're always learning something or going somewhere. You do stuff."

  "I like to keep busy, keep my mind working. I think that's a good thing."

  "Oh, no problem with it, just saying that you are the perfect person to help Magda right now."

  Magda piped up, "Huh. I thought I was helping you."

  Teri said, "This all has got to be terrible for you."

  "Yeah." Magda sighed. "It's a mess. But Sammy here will be a help to me. I have to talk to the sheriff tomorrow, and then all the things to do with Tom's..."

  I guess she couldn't bring herself to say "body".

  She stopped and put down the hotdog. "I just can't figure it out. But tomorrow is another day. Everything will come to light in time. Tonight the guild women will be back from their retreat and they can help me sort everything out. Annie and I have that quilt to finish." She lapsed into silence.

  Len had apparently been quiet long enough for him. "Miss Magda, don't you worry. We'll get this all worked out for you."

  Sam said, with an edge to his voice, "Yes, we will. Soon's as you are done feeding your face you can put my tool box in the trunk and we can be on our way. You've had your run, so I guess you're refreshed enough now to get back on the road?"

  Lord, what was the matter with him?

  "Don't you worry about it, old man, I've got it under control." Len snapped back.

  Men. For some reason these two had burrs under their saddles. Remembering Len's jealousy and assumed ownership of me in the past, I concluded that burr must be me, and that Sam was put off by Len's propriety behavior. Feeling protective of Magda, too? Roosters. It might be a long ride to Willamina. But then Len would take me home and we'd have dinner. Maybe that would soothe him. I was looking forward to a break from all this grief. Time enough to take it back up tomorrow morning when I return to Willamina to help Magda.

  "We ought to get back. Magda, did you want to go down to the beach before we leave?"

  "No, I can do without that. I'd like to take back some saltwater taffy, for the gals. Is there a candy store on our way out of town?"

  Teri said, "I just happen to have a boatload of taffy. I'll give you a bag. All kind of flavors."

  Magda added, "I do have one other thing I'd like to do, if we have time. And I don't know why we wouldn't. Nobody's waiting for me to show up. Except the cops. And they can wait."

  We all laughed at her bravado.

  "You have a great fabric store here in Cannon Beach. I'd like to stop there."

  Len put down his spoon, said, "Capitol idea, Magda. I'd like to stop there myself. I need some backing for the quilt I'm making for my son."

  I stared at him.

  "What? You do remember that I quilt, don't you?"

  "Yes, I guess so. Just didn't think of you shopping for material."

  "Fabric, Annie dear." Magda stood and was starting to help clear the table.

  Len finished his lunch and cleaned up his plate with his last bit of bun. He took his plate into the kitchen and set it on the counter. "Now, Sam, where'd you say that toolbox is? I'll get your stuff in the trunk and we had best be on our way. We've got a stop to make and that might take some time, if I know women, and shopping."

  Magda shook her head. "No rush on my account."

  Teri came from the pantry with a bag that she handed to Magda. "Your taffy."

  Magda thanked her. We all went outside, where the men were dealing with the tool box. I saw Len carrying it in a mock stagger, his back bent, his mouth twisted in an exaggerated grimace as he groaned under the weight of it.

  Sam said, "Still a funny guy, huh? Bring it over here. Be careful not to strain yourself."

  Len grinned and straightened to set the box down at the back of the car.

  Sam said, "This is one heck of a car, Len. Nice lotta shiny chrome. The best part about it is the great trunk. If you would just lift the tool box into it, I'd be grateful. The part of my back that lifts doesn't work all that good, anymore."

  "You probably threw it out when you packed this thing." Len hefted the box into the trunk. "Whatcha got in here, a body?"

  We women were hugging goodbye. As one, we stopped and stared at him, Magda especially.

  She shook her head at Len. "You're a case, you are."

  Sam opened her door. She got in and Sam went around to the other side.

  "Sorry. Wasn't thinking." Len put Sam's bag on top of the toolbox and closed the trunk. He turned to Teri and put out his hand. "Thanks for the lunch. Someday Annie and I will come down and stay in the cabins
. We did that many years ago, you know."

  "I've heard that. You are welcome anytime Annie brings you."

  "Well. Thanks again." He got in the car, shut the door, and rolled down the window.

  "Drive careful." Teri said.

  "I will."

  "We'll be back," Magda said.

  I was turned around to help Len back out the driveway and saw Sam reach across the seat to her and take her hand in his. "Yes, we will," he said, and squeezed it.

  "Next stop, the quilt shop," I said.

  Chapter 23

  Into a Fabric Store

  The fabric store was a few blocks from the beach house. I'd barely adjusted to the pressure of the seat belt, when Len pulled into the driveway. From the backseat Magda said, "Yup, this is a good one. I've always come away with something I can't get anywhere else."

  Len said, "Ever been in a bad fabric store, Magda?"

  "Don't mess with me, boy, I'm feeling good, here." The click of her seatbelt announced she was moving out. "Good variety of buttons here."

  "Do we need buttons?" I said, as I opened the door.

  "No, not today, but they are fun to look at. And you never know when you might want to make a button quilt."

  I don't want to make any kind of quilt, was all I could think, but I did wonder just what a button quilt would involve. "I think I have a glass jar of old buttons from Aunt Sophie's stash, if it ever comes to that." Just to let her know I was equipped with buttons.

  "Hey, you're getting the lingo."

  "From being around you." I laughed.

  She was reaching for the door of the shop when Len reached from behind me and opened it for both of us. Sam brought up the rear.

  "Oh, smell that fabric," said Magda. I couldn't smell anything in particular, but my vision was filled with color. Bolt after bolt of fabric-lined narrow aisles from which to examine, drool, and exclaim.

  "Yeah, there's a lot of material in here."

  Her head snapped around.

  Before she could correct me I said, "Gotcha. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention."

  Sam wandered over to the button display. From the rack he pulled a packet of gray buttons with a bronze Celtic Cross on each one. "I think I remember some of these. My preacher Grandpa used them to button up his overalls when he worked in the garden."