Daughter of Deceit

by Patricia Sprinkle

  “I got it. I went with Payne to walk through the house to see if anything was missing.”

  “Oh.” Katharine could tell Posey was miffed at being left out. “And…?” Posey hinted.

  “The only things Payne noticed missing were a painting and some silver, including a tea set Murdoch was telling me about on Monday. Oh, and a Tiffany lamp.”

  “Well, come get me. It’s almost one. If we’re going to see any people—”

  “I don’t want to go see people. I want to get home and check my to-do list.”

  “You promised we’d go to lunch.”

  “We didn’t eat breakfast until ten.”

  “I know, but I’ve gotten dressed. We can get a salad or something and you can tell me about Bara. I don’t like you talking on the phone while you’re driving.”

  Katharine turned at the next corner, willing to visit over a light lunch.

  She was halfway to Posey’s before she remembered that her sister-in-law had called her.

  She found Hollis alone in the kitchen, wearing black shorts and a black tank top, eating yogurt. “Mama’s upstairs fixing her face and Uncle Tom called a few minutes ago. He said he couldn’t get you on your cell phone.”

  That must have been while she was talking to Posey. “Was he still in Washington?”

  Hollis brushed a dollop of yogurt from her flat chest before she answered. “No, he said he was going up to the lake house, and to call him.”

  Katharine punched in his number. The lake house? The lake house was three hours away. Why should he be going there when they had so much to do?

  He probably wasn’t outside the metro area yet. Maybe she could persuade him to turn around.

  “Sorry, hon,” he told her, “but we’ve sprung a major water leak in the yard, and with the water restrictions, the county is threatening to levy enormous fines and turn off our water for months if we don’t get up there and see about it. They left a message on the machine. I picked it up when I came in. Where were you?”

  “Visiting Bara Weidenauer.”

  “Again? I told you she was going to consume you.”

  “If I hadn’t been with Bara, I’d have been home to take the call about the leak, then I’d have been consumed by that. Besides, Bara’s not consuming me, she’s in the hospital and just wanted to tell me something.” Enough of that subject. She had far more important issues at the moment. “When will you be home?”

  “Heaven only knows. I will be running on PST—plumber standard time. I’ve called somebody, but he said he can’t get out until tomorrow morning.”

  “Which could mean afternoon or even Monday. I guess this wipes out shopping for a car tomorrow, then.” She didn’t mean to sound cranky, but she was not only disappointed, she was tired of being disappointed.

  “Afraid so. We can look next week. I’ve been wondering if we ought to lease you one instead of buying it.”

  “My dad always said leasing a car is like renting a house. You pay off somebody else’s loan and wind up with nothing in the end.”

  “Yeah, but they’d take care of maintenance. You wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

  “I’m used to car maintenance.” She heard her tone of voice and wondered, Why are we having this conversation? Cars weren’t important at the moment. “Why don’t I keep the rental until after the party? We don’t need to be thinking about cars with everything else we have to do, and you sure don’t need this discussion while you’re driving up I–85.”

  He was agreeable. “Okay. But hey, why don’t you come up for the weekend? I bought a case of drinking water, we can swim to keep clean, and I’ll fill buckets for toilet flushing before I cut off the water.”

  She almost agreed. That was what she usually did. But if she went up, Tom would expect her to deal with the plumber. That’s what he usually did.

  “We’ve got people coming next weekend,” she reminded him. “I’ve got things to do.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Have fun.”

  He would have fun. Tom loved nothing so much as a lazy couple of days to read and swim. It sounded so tempting that Katharine almost reconsidered. She had her finger on the redial button when Posey came down the stairs calling brightly, “I’m ready for lunch. Let’s go!”

  As Katharine headed down the Buitons’ drive, Posey fanned herself with a piece of paper she’d brought along. “Turn up the air conditioner. I’m having a menopausal moment.”

  She didn’t look menopausal, she looked gorgeous. She’d put on a suit of peacock blue with a wisp of a skirt and peacock-blue heels to match. She even had a little boa around her neck.

  “You’re a lot more dressed up than I am.” Katharine was still wearing the celery pants and top she had put on in a hurry after Posey called.

  “I know, but I just got this suit and I wanted to break it in. Did Hollis tell you what she was doing this morning while you and I were with Payne?”

  “Sleeping?” Katharine was well acquainted with the younger generation’s topsy-turvy schedules.

  “No, she was visiting Oriental rug dealers looking for a part-time job.” Posey was as upset as if Hollis had been enlisting in the army. “I reminded her she is already designing and making costumes for two theaters, which keeps her up half the night, she is still working for you, and she has promised to help Marsha Montague redecorate her house when yours is done. And heaven knows, Marsha’s needs it, although I don’t know if she will like a single thing Hollis suggests, and I don’t want Hollis offending one of my very best friends—”

  “Hollis has excellent taste,” Katharine assured her as she pulled out between the high pillars that supported the Buitons’ wrought-iron gates.

  She still wished she knew what problem Kenny had been referring to. He’d sounded like Hollis had an ongoing problem, not a one-time mistake in judgment, and there were some very serious problems young adults could have in this generation. AIDS, other sexually transmitted diseases, addictions, and alcoholism came to mind. Katharine hoped her niece wasn’t concealing something and trying to carry a heavy burden alone.

  From the passenger seat, Posey’s lament rolled on. “…said she has hired two women to come to her place to sew costumes and your house is finished and Marsha’s won’t take all her time, and she realized this week that she doesn’t know enough about Oriental rugs to make recommendations about them, so she wants to work in a store for a while to learn what she can. A store!” Posey made it sound like a brothel.

  “She really ought to know about rugs if she plans to recommend them.”

  “I don’t see why. All she has to do is go somewhere and pick one with colors that match the room. Besides, I don’t like the idea of strange women coming into our house to sew.”

  Hollis lived in four rooms above the Buitons’ garage in a renovated apartment once designed for a chauffeur. “They won’t come inside your house. Her stairs go up through the garage. And they might not be strange.”

  “Get real. If they are Hollis’s friends, they will be strange.”

  That was true enough. “Speaking of Hollis, do you know if she had any serious problems in college?”

  Posey gave a genteel snort. “The child is a problem. Nothing but one problem after another since she was born. I swear, if I hadn’t been awake for her birth—”

  “—you would think she was a changeling. I know. Relax. You’re frowning.”

  Posey’s face reverted to the wide-eyed look her plastic surgeon had created. “You always stick up for her. But why should you think she had problems?”

  “Somebody asked me recently if she was dealing with her ‘problem.’ I wondered what he meant.”

  “Beats me. As far as I was concerned, the years Hollis was down in Savannah were the most peaceful years I’ve had since her birth. But you know kids today. They never tell us anything. She could have been on drugs, had annual abortions, and eloped with an alien from Mars without our knowing a thing about it. All
we knew was that she got good grades, called whenever she needed money, and seemed the same at holidays—dreadfully the same, dragging a parade of the most awful boys home to meet us.”

  Katharine hid a smile. She was convinced Hollis mostly brought the young men home to shock her mother. She had never seen any indication that Hollis gave a flip for any of them. “She got that national award for the textile she designed,” Katharine pointed out. “And didn’t she make better grades than either Lolly or Molly?”

  “What did I say? You always take up for her. But speaking of trouble, do you know what else Foley Weidenauer has done?”

  Katharine was startled. “Since he got shot?”

  “No, two days ago. I called Payne just before I came downstairs, and she was distraught. When she got back to the hospital a little while ago, they informed her that Foley canceled Bara’s health insurance! They admitted her last night with the information she used a month or so ago when she had a little face-lift, but when they checked with the insurance company this morning, they found that Foley had taken her off his policy! I tell you, if that man hadn’t been killed, I’d go over and kill him myself. He was lower than a basement leak.”

  “So what’s happening with Bara?”

  “They were talking about moving her down to Grady. Payne was frantic! Bara’s money isn’t accessible, Winnie’s estate hasn’t been probated yet, and she and Hamilton have put most of what Ray left Payne into their house, Hamilton’s retirement account, and a college fund for Chip that they aren’t supposed to touch. I told her to stop worrying, we’ll manage to pay the bills somehow.”

  Posey sounded like she and Wrens would be down to their last nickel if they helped with Bara’s bills, but Katharine knew that wasn’t true, no matter how high the bill might go. Still, it was a generous thing they were doing. She couldn’t imagine Bara in the county hospital.

  “You shouldn’t have to pay it all.”

  “We won’t. I’ll call people and ask them to chip in. How much could you and Tom come up with?”

  Katharine didn’t mind frowning, wrinkles or no wrinkles. “I haven’t taken that woman to raise! I’ll talk to Tom, but I keep telling you, I don’t really know her.”

  Posey ignored her. “Can you imagine being that low-down dirty? I swear—”

  Katharine inserted a CD. “Maybe this will take your mind off him for a few minutes.”

  Posey listened to the mellow, blended voices and shook her head. “Low-class, trashy music. How you can stand that country-western stuff is beyond me.”

  “It’s not country western, it’s a bluegrass group Tom heard in Washington, and it’s not low class or trashy. Tom likes it, I like it, Hollis likes it, even Bara liked it when she came by to bring her daddy’s medals. Listen to how well those voices blend.”

  Music wasn’t one of Posey’s interests. “Speaking of Bara, I don’t think I’d better make anybody mad right now—do you? Since I’m calling around to ask folks for help with her hospital bills. So I think you’ll have to go in and ask questions by yourself. I’ll wait in the car. Then we can stop by the Swan Coach House for a late lunch.”

  “I am not going to ask anybody any questions. We’re only going to lunch, remember? I told Payne at the hospital I have no reason whatsoever to be asking people if they know who Bara’s daddy was.”

  Posey looked at her watch. “But it’s hardly one, and we ate breakfast at ten. You could at least go see the people Bara upset the most in these past two days. All you have to ask is whether they have any idea why somebody would want to beat her up.”

  “From what Payne said, every one of them wanted to beat her up. Most of them are, however, too genteel to do so.”

  “So they sent somebody to do it for them. The thug beat Bara, Foley surprised them, and they killed him.”

  “How many elderly people around here know how to hire a thug? Be serious, Posey.”

  “You might be surprised. All you have to do is watch to see if anybody looks guilty.”

  “The police could do a better job of that.”

  “They won’t. They think Foley beat up Bara, and she shot him.”

  “Which is the most likely scenario.”

  “Nonsense. She hasn’t been sober enough in the past few weeks to shoot straight.” Posey held up a small sheet of paper. “While Payne was on the phone, I asked her for a list of the women who were most upset after Bara was there. It’s only six people. Won’t you at least talk to them—if you won’t go see Rita Louise?”

  “I am not going to talk with Rita Louise. That is final.”

  “Okay, then turn right. You might as well start with the closest house.”

  Katharine felt like she had been run over by a small, blond steamroller.

  She drove from one home to another, citing Payne’s request and Posey’s reason for her being there, and feeling more and more foolish. Every woman she visited was horrified at what had happened to Foley and Bara, but still miffed by her earlier visit and glad to pour their irritation into Katharine’s lap.

  Posey polluted the environment and wasted gas keeping cool in the car while Katharine trekked from embarrassing interviews to mortifying ones. She was not a happy camper as she climbed in the car after the fourth visit. “Okay, is that everybody on your list?”

  “Everybody except Ann Rose and Rita Louise. And I’m starving.”

  Katharine checked her watch. It was two thirty. “I am willing to talk with Ann Rose, but after that, I am going home. I know you and Payne think I have nothing to do with my life but traipse all over Atlanta trying to do the police’s job, but I do have other things to do.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “I’ll stop by a filling station and get you a candy bar.”

  Posey decided to go in at Ann Rose’s. “I’d like to make sure Chip is okay.”

  “He’s with a doting grandmother,” Katharine pointed out.

  “Yeah, but his other grandmother got beat up, and I’m sort of his third grandmother. I want to make sure he’s all right.”

  Chip, however, was not in evidence when Ann Rose opened the door. She shoved a pair of red-rimmed reading glasses onto the top of her head and stepped back to let them in. “Come on in. Chip is napping and I was putting together the tutor training workshop for next week.” She didn’t apologize for her faded denim skirt, short-sleeved oxford-cloth shirt, or scuffed brown loafers. Like Katharine, Ann Rose preferred comfort to elegance for a casual day at home.

  She motioned for them to follow her. “Let’s go to the conservatory. The front of the house is too gloomy to visit in at this time of day.” In the breakfast room, which she had claimed as her office, stacks of books and papers filled the table, spilled onto the floor, and crept toward the door. “I keep meaning to get that stuff organized,” she apologized, “but one project seems to lead to another before I get around to clearing up the first one.”

  “It was cleared for the luncheon,” Posey reminded her.

  “Only because Francie put everything in brown paper bags in the garage. When I dumped them back out, the stuff was more disorganized than ever. Come on out here. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’d love some tea,” Posey told her. “Katharine was supposed to take me to lunch, but she reneged.”

  “I didn’t renege, I got kidnapped,” Katharine retorted.

  Ann Rose stepped into the kitchen to speak to Francie, then joined them in the conservatory. As always, it was humid, but Katharine’s spirit had been chilled by the day’s events. It felt pleasant to be amid tropical plants she had grown up with. When she praised the orchids, Ann Rose gently touched one of the most spectacular ones, a huge white-and-purple cattleya of the sort Katharine had worn to her senior prom. “I’m sorry Oscar isn’t here to see this. He propagated it himself, and this is its first year to bloom.”

  Soon after they settled themselves on bright cushions in white wicker chairs, Francie brought out a tray holding iced tea, lemon, and a plate of small
sandwiches and éclairs.

  Katharine was mortified. “You didn’t need to fix us lunch.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Posey was already reaching for one.

  Ann Rose waved away Katharine’s protests. “They are left over from the literacy meeting. You don’t want me eating them until Jeffers gets back, do you? Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Katharine wanted to ask you some questions,” Posey said promptly.

  Ann Rose waited expectantly. Katharine swallowed a bite of sandwich and wiped her mouth with the small linen napkin. “I didn’t,” she told Ann Rose. “Posey and Payne have the bright idea that we ought to talk to everybody Bara visited this week asking about her mother. They seem to think that had something to do with her getting beaten and Foley getting shot. I think they even hope somebody will fling up her hands and exclaim, ‘I did it. Arrest me!’ However, I’ve talked to most of them already today, and so far, nobody has.”

  Ann Rose flung up her hands. “I did it. Arrest me!” She lowered her hands with a small, embarrassed smile. “Shame on me for making light of this terrible thing. Of course I didn’t do it, and neither would any of the other women Bara went to see. All she wanted to know was whether any of us knew who her father could have been. Who would have beaten her for asking about that after all these years?” She bent to set her empty glass on the table. “Frankly, I don’t believe Nettie had an affair, either. It wasn’t like her. She was almost pathetically attached to Winnie. Remember how jealous she was if another woman so much as laughed with him at a party? She wouldn’t have jeopardized her marriage that way. I also cannot believe that such a secret could have been kept for so long, especially once Winnie and Nettie were both dead. When Bara roared into the house with all those accusations, I figured she had gotten something very wrong. She wasn’t coherent, anyway. She was what my mother used to delicately call ‘under the weather.’”

  “Drunk,” said Posey bluntly. “I sure hope her time in the hospital will get her back on the wagon.”

  “I do, too,” Ann Rose agreed, “but I don’t know what her incentive will be to quit. Last time it was her children. She was so afraid Ray would hurt them, or that she’d be drunk and couldn’t take care of them. But what incentive does she have now?”