by Anne George
“Just pass your hand under the faucet,” I said.
“I hate plumbers. They do things deliberately to confuse people.” She washed her hands and reached for a paper towel. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought Mitzi down for Arthur’s bond hearing.”
“Well, I hope everything turns out okay.” She dried her hands and threw the towel into a wastebasket. “Gotta go.”
“Wouldn’t want Cedric to miss those bass. Hope they aren’t pencil-thin ones.”
I thought it was funny; she didn’t. She forged out of the room, and by the time I came out into the hall, she was heading toward the license department. I got on the elevator and punched the button for the third floor. Whatever she was there for and trying to hide would come out.
Mitzi and Arabella were sitting on a bench outside an impressive mahogany door. Standing beside them by a window were a man and woman. His head was bent toward her as she talked quietly. They both looked up as I asked what was going on.
“The lawyer’s in there with the judge,” Arabella said. “She told us to wait out here.” She turned toward the couple. “Mrs. Hollowell, this is my sister, Sue, and her husband, Joseph Batson.”
The Batsons didn’t look at all like I had imagined. Sue Batson was a large, rather imposing looking woman, at least two inches taller than her husband. Pale, with dishwater blonde hair and eyes puffed from crying, she didn’t look at all like her sister. Joseph Batson could have passed for one of the Smith brothers from the cough drops, except the Smith brothers were neater. Thin, and dressed in a wrinkled white shirt and blue jeans, he had dark hair receding on the top and pulled back into a small ponytail. He also had a beard, an ample one, sprinkled with gray. He was not my idea of a multimillionaire entrepreneur.
He had a lovely smile, though, and a firm handshake. His wife, on the other hand, simply nodded at the introduction. I wondered what they were doing here, if Mitzi or Arabella had called them.
Mitzi answered my unasked question. “Sue called this morning and I told her about the hearing. They’re here to testify on Arthur’s behalf if they need to.”
“Best guy in the world,” Joseph Batson said. “Been handling our insurance for years. I can’t believe they’d even think he could be involved with Sophie’s death.”
Sue turned and looked out of the window, her expression one of such grief that I knew just hearing the words “Sophie’s death” had been like a blow.
“According to the lawyer, though,” Joseph continued, “it’s not going to be that kind of hearing. The judge is simply going to determine how much bail to set.”
Or whether to set it. But I didn’t say anything. I sat down by Mitzi and asked her how she was feeling.
“Pretty good. I’ll just be glad to get Arthur home.”
Arabella patted her hand. “It’s all just crazy.”
“We’ve got to bury Mama,” Sue Batson said.
We all looked at her, startled. Tears were running down her face.
“We do. She can’t lie there in that morgue like this. We buried Daddy the day after he died and poor David was buried the day he was killed. We just threw him in the ground.”
Joseph Batson moved over and put his arm around his wife’s shoulder.
Arabella clenched her hands together; the knuckles shone white. “It was what Mama and Daddy wanted, Sue. You know that.” She looked at her sister. “None of us were thinking clearly at the time.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Hush, Sue.” Joseph Batson patted his wife’s arm. “We’re not thinking clearly now, either.”
I had no idea what was going on between the sisters, but one thing was clear. Sue didn’t know that her mother had asked to be cremated and to have her ashes scattered from Vulcan. I didn’t envy Arthur the job of telling her.
Sue Batson reached in her purse, pulled out a tissue, and mopped her face. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she announced and walked away down the hall.
“I’m sorry, Arabella,” Joseph said. “She’s just terribly upset.”
Arabella nodded.
“I want to see Arthur,” Mitzi said.
I took her hand. “We all do.”
But it was about fifteen minutes later before the door opened and a pretty blonde woman stuck her head out. “Dr. Batson, could you come in a minute?”
“Sure.” He looked down the hall. Sue had still not come back from the rest room.
“I’ll go check on her,” I said.
“Thanks.” He followed the woman who I assumed was Peyton Phillips into the judge’s chambers.
“I’ll go see about her, Mrs. Hollowell,” Arabella said.
I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but fortunately we saw Sue coming down the hall just as Arabella stood up.
“Where’s Joseph?” she asked. The time in the rest room had obviously been spent with cold water and the reapplication of makeup. Sue’s eyes were still puffy, but she had pulled herself together.
“He went with the lawyer,” I said. I pointed toward the door. “In there.”
Sue returned to her window. Arabella announced that she would be back in a minute and walked down the hall. Mitzi stood up, stretched, and sat back down.
The next few minutes seemed endless. Arabella didn’t come back, Sue stood by her window, and Mitzi and I tried to make conversation which was hopeless since every other sentence was “What do you suppose is happening in there?”
Finally, the same blonde opened the door again and asked Mitzi to come in.
She squeezed my hand as she stood up. “Tell me he’s okay, Patricia Anne.”
“He’s okay, Mitzi.”
“He really is, Mrs. Phizer,” said the blonde.
I hoped that meant the judge had granted Arthur bail.
Eleven
After Mitzi left, Sue came over to sit by me. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hollowell. You’re not seeing my family at its best.”
I hoped not.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” I said. “She seemed like a lovely lady.”
“She was.” Sue had a tissue in her hand that she was shredding. “She was the gentlest, kindest woman in the world. It’s hard to grasp the fact that someone killed her. Murdered her.” Pieces of tissue drifted to the floor. She reached down and picked them up.
“Joseph and I were so glad when Mother decided to come to Birmingham for treatment. We thought she would stay with us. Joseph knows all the other medical people, and he knew who should be treating her.”
More tissue drifted to the floor.
“She wanted to stay near UAB, though. She never wanted to bother anybody, or be in the way. Not that she ever would have been in the way with Joseph and me.”
“Do you have children, Sue?” I asked.
“A son and a daughter. They’re both in college. Zoe is at the university in Tuscaloosa, Dickie’s here at UAB. He has an apartment. Zoe wanted to come right home, and Dickie spent last night with us. But there’s not a thing they can do. No use their missing classes.”
She should have let them do what they wanted to, I thought. Their grandmother was dead. The hell with classes. I would have had my kids home in a minute.
Sue slumped back against the bench and stretched her legs out. She was wearing a short beige linen skirt and a beige and white shirt, very simple and probably very expensive, but not flattering. It was hard not to compare her to the beautiful Arabella.
She motioned her head toward the closed door in front of us. “I hope they’re letting Joseph put up Mr. Phizer’s bail.”
The thought had crossed my mind that that was what was happening in there, too.
“My niece said it would be a lot.”
Sue shrugged. “Joseph’s got it. Sometimes I worry that he’s overextending.”
“Don’t tell me that. Mitzi and my sister and I are getting in an investment club, and I was going to recommend Bellemina Health stock.”
“Oh, it’s safe. That’s not what I meant
.” She didn’t elaborate on what she had meant, and I didn’t ask. Arabella was walking down the hall toward us, the sun glinting through the window on her red hair. Two men passing by her almost bumped into each other as they both looked back.
“Anything?” she asked as she sat down by me.
“Nothing,” I answered.
Arabella pulled a Mars Bar from her purse and peeled the paper back. “Either of you want some?”
I shook my head no; Sue ignored her. Arabella sank her teeth into the chocolate and said, “Mmmm.”
Just at that moment, the door opened and Mitzi, Joseph Batson, and the small blonde woman came out. Mitzi was crying, and Joseph had his arm around her.
“It’s okay,” the blonde assured us. “They’ll have him out in a couple of hours.”
“A couple of hours?” Sue asked.
“It takes that long to process the papers.” Peyton Phillips came over, introduced herself, and shook hands with Sue and me.
Arabella smiled brightly and held up a half-eaten candy bar. “Want some?’
“No thanks,” said the size two Peyton, smiling just as brightly. “I had pecan pie for lunch. With whipped cream.” Good for her, I thought. She turned to Mitzi. “I’ll call you late this afternoon, Mrs. Phizer, and I’ll be over tonight. Okay? Don’t you worry, now.”
Mitzi nodded into Joseph Batson’s chest.
With a small wave, Peyton headed down the hall. Arthur was in good hands.
“Five hundred thousand dollars, Patricia Anne. Can you believe it? He knew the bond was going to cost a fortune. That’s what he was there for, I found out, not just to testify on Arthur’s behalf. Five hundred thousand dollars, and Joseph just wrote them out a check.” Mitzi sniffled into a tissue. “If he hadn’t been there, there’s no way I could have gotten Arthur out. I can’t believe he did that for us.”
“I can believe he did it for you. What I can’t believe is that anybody can write a check for that amount.”
“I know. It boggles the mind.”
Mitzi and I were going up Twentieth Street by Vulcan on our way home. She had agreed to let Joseph and Sue bring Arthur home, which told me she was feeling terrible. Arabella had said she was going to the library and would take a cab home. So Mitzi and I were alone.
“You want me to stop by the drugstore for anything?” I asked.
“No. I think I’ll go lie down a while. Is it okay if I replace your Pepto-Bismol tomorrow?”
“It’s a gift.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What are friends for.”
Lisa was sitting on my front steps. As I turned into the driveway, she waved and came over to the car. “Everything all right?”
“He’ll be home in a little while,” Mitzi said.
“Oh, Mrs. Phizer, I’m so glad. That’s wonderful.”
“Joseph Batson wrote a check for five hundred thousand dollars, Lisa.” Mitzi opened the door and got out. “Can you believe that? Can you believe anybody could write a check for half a million dollars?”
“Nobody I know. Where’s Arabella?”
“At the library. And I’m going to go lie down a while. Watch a little of Oprah.”
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine; she looked slightly green. But I knew she wanted to be by herself and relax.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, Mama,” Lisa said as we started toward the back.
For a second I had a wild hope that Alan had shown up and they were going back to Atlanta together. But when I opened the gate, there was my precious Woofer, lying in the sun, his nose between his paws. When I ran to him, he rolled over for me to scratch his belly.
“The vet called and said he could come home, so I went and got him,” Lisa said. “She gave us some pills to give him.”
I knelt and rubbed my cheek against his head. He smelled like the vet’s office. Damn possum.
“Has he had anything to eat?” I asked.
“I gave him a couple of dog biscuits. You want me to open him a can of food?”
“You hungry, boy?”
Woofer thumped his tail.
“I’ll get him a can.” Lisa disappeared into the kitchen.
I sat on the grass and pulled Woofer, as much of him as I could, into my lap. The sun was warm across my shoulders and I suddenly felt very tired and sleepy.
“Here you go.” Lisa was back with the food which Woofer sniffed at and refused.
I took a small amount and held it out to him in my hand. He ate it as if he were just trying to please me. I gave him several bites until he turned away.
“It’ll take him a day or two to get his appetite back,” Lisa said.
“Thank you for my wonderful surprise.”
“You’re so welcome.” She sat down beside me. “What happened down at the courthouse?”
“I’ve never seen two sisters any more different than Sue and Arabella.”
“Tell me.”
So I did, sitting in the grass in the warm September sun, my Woofer stretched out beside me.
“I thought Arabella was nice,” Lisa said.
“She probably is, away from her sister. They really seem to dislike each other.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What does the sister look like? Is she as beautiful as Arabella?”
“Nice looking, but not beautiful. She’s larger and has dark blonde hair.” I patted Woofer. “When Arabella wasn’t around, she was very pleasant.”
“Well, what about Mr. Phizer? What’s the next step?”
“I have no idea. I’m assuming the police have a mighty good case or they wouldn’t have arrested him.”
Lisa hesitated. “You really don’t think he could have done it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“What about Arabella or Sue?”
“They might kill each other, but they both seem to have loved their mother dearly.”
“How about the son-in-law?”
“Nice as he can be. None of them had the opportunity anyway. The woman was just sitting there having lunch and was poisoned.”
“Having lunch with Mr. Phizer.”
“Right. And Arthur didn’t do it.”
Lisa smiled and rubbed Woofer’s ear. “Well, you and Aunt Sister are pretty good at figuring these things out. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you here.”
God’s truth.
Arthur got home around five. Lisa called to me that a Mercedes had just pulled into the Phizers’ driveway and if the woman who had just gotten out was Arabella’s sister, she could see what I meant.
I looked through the bare, clean dining room windows and saw Joseph and Sue Batson standing beside the car and Mitzi hugging Arthur so hard he nearly lost his balance. Sometime during the afternoon, Barbara and Bridget, the Phizers’ daughters, had arrived, and they stood on the porch smiling, Bridget holding her baby, Andrew Cade. I was sure Mitzi had told both of them that she was fine and they shouldn’t leave work. But I was glad to see them, and I’m sure Mitzi was, too.
Joseph and Sue stayed only a minute, and then the Phizers went inside, Arthur carrying Andrew Cade. They probably wouldn’t feel much like eating, but Lisa had gone to the Piggly Wiggly earlier and picked up barbecued chicken, potato salad, and baked beans for both the Phizers and us.
There was nothing wrong with Fred’s appetite, though. After he showered, we sat on the deck with Woofer stretched out beside us, and ate our supper while I told him about what had happened at the courthouse.
“A half a million dollars? He just wrote a check?”
“Close your mouth,” I said and assured him that this was what had happened.
“Damn.”
“We’re having our first investment club meeting tomorrow,” I said. “I’m going to recommend Bellemina Health stock.”
“You do that, honey. Damn. A half a million dollars?”
“Yo
u sound like me.” Lisa pushed her chair back. “Who wants lemon icebox pie?”
“I don’t think I want that child to go back to Alan,” Fred said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
We sat on the deck talking for a long time. Lisa told us some of the things the boys had done that we had missed out on, soccer games, weekend hiking trips, the fact that Sam was becoming a computer whiz.
Atlanta isn’t that far away, just a short drive, but we were missing so many milestones in our grandchildren’s lives. Dammit, we had to do better.
Fred listed the stocks that the investment club should buy. Definitely AT&T and the people who made Viagra. Pharmaceuticals and communications would make us rich. Guaranteed.
“Wal-Mart’s done pretty good for you,” I said.
“Been worried about it ever since Sam Walton died. He knew how to run that business.” And he had been the one who had told Fred to buy the stock, a plain fellow from Arkansas who had sat by Fred in the coach section of a Delta plane on his way to Atlanta, and told him he thought Wal-Mart stock was going to do pretty good.
We saw Barbara and Bridget drive away, and the lights go out at the Phizers’.
“I don’t think Arabella’s there,” Lisa said.
“Maybe she went back to her mother’s apartment.” I yawned. It had been a long day.
“Come on, boy.” Fred picked Woofer up. “You need to be in your house tonight.”
“Wait. He has to have his pill.” Lisa went into the kitchen and was back in a moment. She reached over, pressed the sides of Woofer’s mouth open and popped the pill in. It was done so expertly, he didn’t seem to mind.
Fred was right. One could get used to Lisa’s presence.
I think I was asleep before Fred came to bed. It’s seldom that I zonk out like that. I remember wondering what Sister was up to and why I hadn’t heard from her and what a cock-and-bull story that was about a fishing license for Cedric. And then I was gone.
Sometime during the night, I awoke just as easily. Strips of moonlight were slicing through the venetian blinds and across our bed; the air conditioner was humming softly.
I got up without turning on any lights and went to the bathroom. Then I tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, suddenly hungry for some cereal.
