“Sit right there, Miss Coleman,” Hattie Mae said as she plopped into the chair opposite her. “You from Beulah Land?”
“Yes. Please call me Shenandoah. Miss Coleman seems too formal.”
“Ain’t got much use for them folks—your folks.”
“Haven’t got a lot of use for them myself, Hattie Mae. Hope you won’t hold it against me.”
“I’ll pray on it, honey.”
Shenandoah noticed an eight-by-ten color-tinted photograph in a gold frame on the coffee table. The photograph was of a body in an open coffin.
“You looking at my Henry?” Hattie Mae asked.
“I wondered who was in the picture.”
“Well, pick it up and get a good look at Henry, God rest his soul. He’s dearly missed in this house.”
On closer examination, Shenandoah saw the departed Henry Hooper lying in an expensive coffin. A large bouquet of fresh flowers rested on top of the half-open lid. Henry’s hands lay crossed over his chest, and he looked peacefully asleep.
“When did Henry pass?”
“On the thirteenth of July a year ago. Poor old Henry was scared of Friday the thirteenth. Scared of ghosts, too.”
“I’m sorry, Hattie Mae,” Shenandoah said, replacing Henry’s picture.
“Tell me about yourself, Shenandoah.”
“Not much to tell. I grew up in Beulah Land and went to school in Round Rock. After the war, I got a college education and took a job at the Memphis Express. I came up here to cover Dr. Kate’s trial.”
“The good doctor’s got herself in a heap of trouble, ain’t she?”
“To put it mildly.”
“I reckon you know Lillian Johnson is the lady they say Dr. Kate killed.”
“They haven’t proved Dr. Kate killed Lillian. That’s for the jury to decide.”
“Most folks in town believe Dr. Kate and Army are still sweet on each other.”
“You think Army and Kate are involved?”
“You ought to know things like that don’t get by folks in a small town.”
“Sometimes it’s just gossip.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ve known Army all my life, but I never knew how he got that name.”
Hattie Mae grinned slyly and lowered her voice, as if she was telling Shenandoah a secret. “Lola, that’s his momma, was working in Nashville in 1920, a file clerk in one of the state office buildings. She met a soldier boy in the Army National Guard, and when she got pregnant, the man said he already had a wife. There was nothing for Lola to do but come home and have the baby. She jest gave the little fellow her last name. She loved that soldier boy a lot, even if he had done her wrong. That’s why she named her son Army.”
“That’s quite a story,” Shenandoah said.
“So what did you think of Army?” Hattie Mae asked.
“We were never friends. Mr. Watson said he owns a garage.”
“Yeah, but at night he’s a ridge runner.”
“Army’s a bootlegger?”
“He ain’t a bootlegger. He picks up store-bought whisky in Nashville and brings it up here. He sells it to bootleggers.”
Mr. Applebee sauntered in and stood at Hattie Mae’s feet, looking up at her with sorrowful eyes.
“Behave yourself, Mr. Applebee, or it’s back in the box.”
Hattie Mae patted her leg, and the big dog leaped into her lap, settled his massive head on her protruding abdomen, and within seconds was snoring loudly.
Shenandoah stood and moved to the east window. Hattie Mae’s yard, recently mowed, looked brown due to the drought, but the flowerbeds overflowed. Shenandoah had not noticed when she drove up, but an old black man on his hands and knees was digging in one of the beds.
Hattie Mae stood, and Mr. Applebee rolled off her lap, hitting the floor with a thud. He jumped to his feet and shook himself. “Come on, honey. Me and Mr. Applebee’ll show you your room.” The big bulldog followed Shenandoah and Hattie Mae down the long hallway with his stubby tail and narrow hips oscillating.
She led Shenandoah to a small room by the kitchen. It had a double bed that sat high off the floor, a nightstand with a Tiffany lamp, a brass alarm clock with two bells on top, and a wing chair with a floor lamp standing next to it. A small desk was positioned near a window that looked out on the flower garden.
“This is it. Ain’t fancy, but it should do you nicely. Bathroom’s next door. I only allow one roll of tissue a week, so you got to make it last. You want, you can have breakfast and supper with me and Mr. Applebee. We eat at six-thirty and five-thirty.”
“This looks fine. How much?”
“Eleven dollars a week. Clean sheets and towels once a week, but no food on Saturday or Sunday. We need some time to ourselves. Ain’t that right, Mr. Applebee?” Hattie Mae gave a gurgling laugh. “City Café on the square is open on Saturday but not Sunday. You could go down to the Blue Dot in Livingston or the Beacon in Cookeville. You might like the Beacon because it’s across from Tennessee Tech.”
“But this afternoon we’ll eat at five-thirty?”
“Me and Mr. Applebee was jest getting supper started when you walked up.”
“I’ll get my stuff out of the car. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, child, we can manage jest fine.”
Shenandoah carried her suitcase and portable typewriter to her room along with a handful of novels and biographies. She had always been a ferocious reader and took a book with her everywhere she went, although on this trip she planned to work on her article at night.
There was a small fan in the corner of the room, and she set it on the desk and turned it on. The scent of honeysuckle drifted in. She surveyed her new quarters and decided she could have done worse.
Hattie Mae rang a dinner bell promptly at five-thirty. When Shenandoah entered the small alcove, she noticed that the bulldog had climbed onto the chair opposite Hattie Mae’s. A big serving platter sat in the middle of the table piled high with homemade biscuits. Several bowls held mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and string beans. A second platter contained four pork chops. Once seated, Hattie Mae poured iced tea into a chipped glass at Shenandoah’s place setting.
Looking around the small dining area, Shenandoah asked, “Am I your only boarder?”
“I usually got two or three, but boarders are mostly transients. You know, jest in town for a few weeks’ work at some temporary job. I run the last one off ‘cause he snored louder than Mr. Apple-bee. Help yourself to the biscuits, Shenandoah,” Hattie Mae said with a slow grin.
Shenandoah passed the serving platter, and Hattie Mae took two biscuits before handing it back to her. Hattie Mae broke off a piece of biscuit and tossed it to Mr. Applebee. The dog caught it and began to chew with gusto. Large spirals of drool slid out of the corners of his mouth. As they continued to eat, from time to time Hattie Mae would break off another piece of biscuit or pork chop and fling it at the bulldog.
After they had finished their meal, Hattie Mae reached over and picked up the pitcher of iced tea. While she filled her glass she asked, “Want some more?”
“Sure.” Watching her, Shenandoah said, “I’m happy to help with the dishes.”
“I’ll do it, honey. Don’t cotton to strangers in my kitchen.”
“You really think the flies are fooled by that piece of cotton pinned to your screen door?”
“My goodness, honey, they’re dumb enough to think that piece of cotton is a spider. And you know how spiders and flies get along. Works like a charm.”
“You’re sure you don’t need help?”
“You can bring the plates and stuff in if you want.”
After supper, Shenandoah read the notes she’d collected on Buford Frampton until ten. The fan blew hot, humid air over the desk where she worked, and perspiration trickled down her chest.
* * *
She awoke the next morning to the clanging of the bedside alarm clock. Dressed by six-thirty, she walked into the dining alcove and found Hatti
e Mae at the table with Mr. Applebee seated across from her. The big dog growled when he saw Shenandoah.
“Behave yourself, Mr. Applebee. Shenandoah is a guest in our house.”
A big platter of scrambled eggs and bacon sat in the middle of the table. Hattie Mae passed it to Shenandoah. As she scooped off her helping, Hattie Mae poured her a cup of coffee.
“How’d you sleep?” Hattie Mae asked.
“Okay. Sweated a little through the night—can’t remember it being this hot up here.”
“Worst summer I can remember.”
Hattie Mae tore off a piece of bacon and flung it in the general direction of Mr. Applebee. He caught it deftly, saliva trickling off his massive chin.
“How well do you know Jake Watson?” Shenandoah asked.
“They say he’s a right good lawyer. Wrote my will, but I don’t know that much about the man. He was good friends with Dr. Walt.”
Shenandoah tore off a piece of her own bacon and threw it to the dog.
“That were a nice thing for Shenandoah to do, Mr. Applebee. Thank her.”
The bulldog placed one of his massive front paws on the table and gave a low growl.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Applebee,” Shenandoah said.
* * *
After carrying her plate and the empty platter into the kitchen and saying good-bye to Hattie Mae, Shenandoah grabbed her note pad and headed out the front door. As she approached her car, she gasped. All four tires had been slashed and the car rested like a beached whale on the rims of its wheels.
“What the hell?” she whispered.
Turning back to the house, she climbed the stairs and rushed inside. Hattie Mae and Mr. Applebee were just entering the hall from the dining area.
“Forget something?” Hattie Mae asked.
“May I use the phone? Someone’s slashed all my tires.”
Hattie Mae’s right hand shot to her mouth, and she said, “Lord, child, that’s terrible. Who would do such a thing and why?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Shenandoah said as she lifted the receiver out of the cradle attached to the wall. “Give me the Esso station,” she said to the operator.
Two minutes later a man answered the phone and said, “Hello.”
“Hudson?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Shenandoah Coleman.”
“Holy shit. I heard you were in town. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“Me either. You got any tires to fit a 1952 Chevy Bel Air?”
“Some Firestones.”
“Throw four in the back of your pickup and come up to Hattie Mae Hooper’s house. Know where she lives?”
“High Street. You need four new tires? That don’t make a lot of sense.”
“Just bring them. Soon!”
Turning to Hattie Mae, Shenandoah said, “I can’t believe I’ve already pissed off somebody so much that they had to slash my tires.”
“You got any enemies up here?” Hattie Mae asked.
“I’ve got enemies in lots of places.”
Five minutes later, Shenandoah heard a pickup laboring up the hill and walked out on the front porch. A black ‘46 Ford pickup with Esso stenciled in black letters on the doors came to a stop beside her car. An old man with a straggly gray beard stepped out of the cab. Eying the damage, he looked up and gave Shenandoah a toothless grin. “Who’d you piss off this time?” Hudson asked.
“If I knew that, they’d be in the emergency room at the Livingston hospital.”
“I ain’t doubting that. Give me an hour and I’ll have you fixed up, girl.”
“Thanks, Hudson. You take my check on a Memphis bank?”
“I got any choice in the matter?”
“Not if you want to get paid. Honk your horn when you’re finished.”
* * *
An hour later, after settling up with Hudson, Shenandoah headed for the jail. She walked into the sheriff’s office at eight o’clock. The secretary was not at her desk, so Shenandoah knocked on Kingman’s open door frame. The lanky sheriff had his back to the door and was staring out the window with a mug of coffee in his hand. He turned and looked at Shenandoah.
“What you want?”
“To see Dr. Kate.”
“You got something going with the doc? You two gone queer on us? You were always more boy than girl.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Jasper.”
“Everything that goes on in this jail is my business.”
“You haven’t changed since grade school,” Shenandoah said. “I wasn’t afraid of you then, and I’m sure as hell not afraid of you now. I’m going to see Dr. Kate every day, so you might as well get used to it. If mornings aren’t good, I’ll come in the afternoon. But I will come.”
Kingman glared at Shenandoah and picked up the phone. “Oscar, meet the Coleman bitch at the door and let her see the doc. She’s got one hour and not a damn minute more.”
When Dr. Kate entered the room, she had a smile on her face. Crossing to where Shenandoah stood, she gave her a hug and said, “Good morning, Shenandoah. I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’ll be here every day. Jasper will limit me to an hour, but I guess that’s his prerogative. Are you sure there’s nothing I can bring you?”
They both pulled out a chair and sat at the table facing each other. Kate said, “Jake keeps me supplied with books. That’s about all I can do: read. I think I’d go crazy if I couldn’t. And I study the AMA Journal every week.” She gave an audible sigh and said, “I hate this. Have you talked to anyone yet?”
Shenandoah replied, “Not yet. Why do you think you passed out?”
“You look really nice this morning, Shenandoah. I’m surprised you can look so fresh in this heat.”
“Are you hiding something from me, Kate?”
Kate’s face flushed and she looked away. “What do you really want, Shenandoah? Why are you here?”
“I came up here to write a story about your trial. Now I want to help you as well.”
“Why?”
“I told you up front. You were always nice to me when we were kids.”
“That doesn’t give you a right to come in here and start giving me the third degree.”
“Why are you so defensive?”
“You’re a psychiatrist now?”
“Whoa, slow down a minute. Let’s start over.” Shenandoah took a deep breath, reached across the table, and took Kate’s hand. “I’m not trying to be critical. I know you’re under a lot of stress. Give me a chance.”
Kate shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Shenandoah. I am tense. This whole thing has me furious. I may spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“That’s why I want to help. You’ve got to level with me, Kate.” Shenandoah reached over and wiped a tear from Kate’s cheek. She gave Shenandoah a wan smile.
“Truce?” she asked.
“Yes,” Shenandoah said.
“Okay. What do you want from me?” Kate asked.
“I want you to try to remember what happened that day. You don’t have to do it right this minute. Just think about it from time to time while you’re reading or before you go to sleep.”
Kate said, “I work really hard to take care of these people. In this part of the state, patients who have money go to Nashville, and the local doctors are left with the ones who can’t pay. I’ve never been in it for the money. All I want is to take care of sick people. Now I feel that everyone thinks I’m guilty.”
“You probably have more friends than you can imagine.”
“I hope so.”
“Any suggestions on who I should talk to?”
“It’s probably best if you follow your nose. You are a reporter.”
“I’ll get back here every morning and tell you who I’ve talked to.”
Kate placed her right hand over Shenandoah’s and said, “I’m so sorry I was cross with you. And now that I think of it, you see
m a little tense yourself this morning. Anything I can help you with?”
Shenandoah sighed. “You have enough troubles without dealing with mine as well.”
“Tell me what’s wrong, Shenandoah. Please.”
“When I went out to get into my car this morning, all four tires were slashed. Flat as a pancake. Just bought four new ones.”
“Oh my God. What’s that all about?”
“I don’t know. I guess I pissed somebody off.”
Kate took a deep breath and said, “Do you think someone is trying to get you to leave town—not to help me?”
“Could be. I’ve got my share of enemies in Round Rock—always have. It could even be coming from Memphis. I’ve been investigating a colored man who runs a numbers racket. Big Al Bolton is not a very nice fellow.”
“Have you said anything to Jasper?”
Shenandoah laughed. “What good would that do? Bastard might be behind the attack himself. I sure wouldn’t put it past him.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re right. You can’t trust Jasper. You might talk to Jimmy Joe Short, however. He’s the state trooper, and from what I hear he’s a straight arrow. And while you’re talking to people about me, you might be able to find out who’s got it in for you.”
“I might do that. If anything else happens, I’ll talk to the trooper.”
Just then the door swung open and Deputy Masterson walked in. “Time’s up, Miss Coleman. I’ll come back for you in a minute, Doc.”
Kate squeezed Shenandoah’s hand and smiled. As she left the room, Shenandoah turned and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Random thoughts ricocheted through Shenandoah’s mind as she descended the stairs. I can’t believe the whole county is against Kate. Kate is the only doctor for miles around, and people depend on her. I’m sure I can find some good character witnesses. I have to. And sure as hell I want to know who slashed my tires.
At the bottom of the stairs, she went to the courthouse roster and scanned the list of tenants. Baxter Hargrove’s office was in the back on the south side of the building.
Shenandoah knocked on the door and walked into the assistant attorney general’s outer office. A young woman with long auburn hair was sitting at a desk, typing on an old Underwood. Shenandoah asked, “Mr. Hargrove in?”
The Trial of Dr. Kate Page 3
