• • •
Easter orders were pouring in and Lanie made candy nonstop through lunch and after. She’d been vaguely aware of some comings and goings out the back door but had no time to investigate this Mrs. Bumpus — no matter how curious she was.
She’d just finished the last of the chocolate stars when she heard the part time help come in. That meant that it was after school. She stepped into the shipping and receiving room.
“Allison,” she said. “I’m finished. I’ve got to go upstairs and get something to eat. After you get everything shipped, will you have Angela clean up after me?”
“Sure. Get some rest. We’ll take care of it and we’ll help Kathryn and Phillip if they need us.”
In her fatigue, Lanie had almost forgotten about the new nanny, forgotten Emma was not with Missy, so she was puzzled when she heard crying coming from Luke’s apartment.
She started to open the door to her apartment, but hesitated. The crying continued. She stood outside Luke’s door and waited. Still, Emma continued to cry. Wasn’t that woman doing anything to comfort the child? Finally, she knocked.
The door swung open and the woman who stood there was not apple cheeked nor did she have a bag of magic. If fact, from the look of her, if she believed in magic at all, it was probably the kind that came from frog heads and bat wings.
She was thin to the point of emaciation and dressed in a dark blue dress. It wasn’t a uniform but it could have been. Her gray hair lay in short tight curls. It was not the kind of hair that would cause any trouble. She didn’t smile.
The crying went on. Lanie looked behind the woman but didn’t catch sight of Emma. Then she realized the crying was coming from the kitchen.
“Hello. You must be Mrs. Bumpus. I’m Lanie Heaven. I live across the hall.”
“And run the candy shop, I see.” Mrs. Bumpus gave her jellybean-scattered clothes a disapproving stare.
The crying continued. “Is everything all right?” Lanie asked.
“Everything is fine.” She came as close to smiling as Lanie suspected she ever had. “Emma is learning some new lessons today.”
About what? How to cry?
The crying turned to a scream. “Daddy! I want my daddy!”
Mrs. Bumpus said, “If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Heaven.” She made to close the door.
Without thinking, Lanie stuck her foot inside. “No, excuse me.” And she barreled past the old witch toward the noise that was breaking her heart.
“Now, see here, Ms. Heaven!” The old witch was hot on her trail.
Emma lay on the kitchen floor where she had been barricaded with a baby gate. Her face was red and swollen and she had the hiccups. As soon as the child saw Lanie, she clumsily got to her feet, toddled to the door, and held her arms out over the gate.
“Lanie! Lanie!” she sobbed.
Lanie reached for her and Mrs. Bumpus stepped between them, which made Emma cry harder.
“Get out of my way,” Lanie said between clinched teeth.
“You do not understand what’s going on here.”
“I understand you have locked this baby up in the kitchen.”
“It’s the only place that doesn’t have rugs and upholstery. Judge Avery wants her toilet trained. If she spends a few hours in a wet diaper, she’ll think twice before she wets her pants again. This is an accepted method of toilet training for hard cases.”
Emma wailed on. “Lanie! Lanie, I want you! I want my daddy!” She held her little arms out.
“It is not accepted by me!” Lanie ripped the gate down.
“Do not touch that child!” the witch shouted.
Lanie jerked Emma into her arms and cradled her hot little face against her neck. “It’s okay, Emma. I’ve got you.” Emma continued to cry but the hysterics subsided somewhat. Almost immediately, moisture soaked through Lanie’s apron, her shirt, to her stomach. The smell was bad and it wasn’t just urine. She hugged Emma tighter.
“Need clean pants.”
“And we’ll get them.” Lanie rocked Emma back and forth. Tears gathered in Lanie’s eyes, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she was exhausted, maybe because she felt Emma’s pain and humiliation, maybe because this child in her arms wasn’t hers and never would be. She swallowed hard. She would not cry in front of this woman.
“Ms. Heaven, give me that child. You’ve already caused a setback but everything I’ve done might not be ruined.” Mrs. Bumpus reached for Emma.
“You’re a monster!” Lanie stepped into the kitchen and positioned herself so that she was between Emma and the witch. “You need to leave and right now.”
“What I am is a nanny. And a good one. I certainly will not leave. Judge Avery put her in my care and I’m performing according to his wishes.” There was no emotion in her voice.
“Yeah? Luke told you it was all right to let her sit in her own filth and cry? Luke told you that?” Luke might have been a little too willing to turn Emma over to this woman but Lanie very much doubted that he approved of this.
“Judge Avery knows I’ve raised twelve children, including two of my own. How many have you raised, Ms. Heaven?”
Lanie caught sight of an iron skillet sitting on the stove. It was Luke’s grilled cheese pan.
“You’re not going to raise this one. I’ll kill you first.” And she picked up the skillet.
• • •
Luke hung his robe in the anteroom between his courtroom and his chambers. Usually when he adjourned for the day he was exhausted, but today he could have gone on another three hours. Starting his day with a run and getting to work before Olive and Keenum had made all the difference. When he’d called home at lunchtime, Mrs. Bumpus had assured him everything was going fine — that she’d done the grocery shopping and would make dinner. He was free of cooking, laundry, errands, and depending on strangers to help with Emma. Missy Bragg had been a godsend but that was over now.
The phone rang as he settled into his chair.
“Judge Avery,” he answered. He hardly recognized his own carefree voice.
“Judge. This is Tiptoe Watkins again.”
What now? Maybe Tiptoe was so grateful that Keenum had shut down the vegetable garden in his cemetery that he wanted to start campaigning for next year’s election. Maybe he’d let him. Today, he felt like he could handle his life again.
“How are you today, Tiptoe?”
“Ah, I’m all right. But you’re going to have to have that talk with Etheline.”
So they were back to that? “I don’t understand. Keenum told me he spoke with her and she desisted.”
“Oh, she did. Etheline is real polite that way. Did she tell him she wouldn’t do it again?”
“He didn’t mention that she did.”
“See, there’s the thing. She did stop it. Etheline will usually do what she’s asked to do, but she’s stubborn. She knows about the letter of the law. You’d probably appreciate that about her. She’s right back out there now, at it again. She will keep coming back until you talk to her. Can you imagine what it would be like to have a grave with corn stalks on it? And I think she’s got some pumpkin seeds too.”
“I can see how that might not be desirable, but I don’t understand why I have to be the one to tell her. She doesn’t even know me.”
“Sure she does. She knows your mama and your daddy. And she knows you’re the circuit judge in the county now — just like her daddy was.”
“Is she crazy?” Luke asked.
“Well now, Judge, I don’t know that I’d toss that term around. After, all what is crazy?”
“Planting pumpkins on a grave?”
“Well, there you have it.”
“What brought this on?” It had been a long time since Luke had had the time to ask a question fo
r no reason except he was curious.
“Near as I have figured out, she and her daddy planted a garden together every spring from the time she was old enough until he died. Not that they tended it. No. They would have hired that done, but he told her she should always plant and cultivate the earth. When he died, oh, twenty-odd years ago, Etheline was about forty-five. I figure that was a bad time of life for her anyway. They were real close. It was just the two of them from the time she was a baby.”
Just like Emma. He didn’t want to think about that.
“Why does she have to do it on his grave?”
“I figure she wants to share it with him.”
“That’s crazy.” Was he destined to drive Emma crazy? His gut turned.
“Well, Judge, we’ve come full circle here.”
“Our very own Delta Dawn, then?”
Tiptoe laughed. “Something like that. You can see why I can’t handle this.”
“I can, Tiptoe. Are you putting this off on me because I’m the new kid in town?”
“No. Because you’re the circuit judge in this county and only you will do.”
Luke opened his mouth to argue some more, but what the hell? It wasn’t like he had to go flying over to the Braggs’ house to pick up Emma or worry about what they were going to eat for dinner.
“All right,” Luke said. “I’ll give it a try.”
“You’ll come? Now?”
“I’m on my way.”
Luke put on his jacket, packed up his laptop, and stopped by Olive’s desk.
“I’m gone for the day,” he said.
She looked at him with disapproval, maybe because it wasn’t five yet, but probably not. Probably it was just general principle disapproval. The phone rang and she nodded and reached for it.
“He’s gone for the day,” she said.
Luke hesitated. He should just go. Whatever it was, would keep. Maybe. He turned and met Olive’s eyes.
“No, I don’t know if he was going straight home.” She gave him a look that let him know that was information she was entitled to. She frowned. That wasn’t unusual, especially when he was within her sight but this frown seemed to be more one of concern than condemnation. She put her hand up, as if to still him. “Just a moment. Let me see if I can catch him.” She pushed the hold button. “It’s Lanie Heaven. She says it’s urgent.”
Lanie? She had never once called him, not even at home. What could she want? Maybe there was a broken water pipe or something. Even so, he wasn’t a plumber.
“I’ll take it.” He let his messenger bag drop to the chair in front of Olive’s desk and went back to his office.
“Lanie?”
“Luke, you’ve got to come home!” Her words were strung together with panic.
“Calm down. What’s going on?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m about to be arrested!”
“What?” Everything in him wanted to demand the details of what she’d done and right damn now. But he remembered who he was. “Lanie,” he said calmly. “I cannot discuss this with you. If you have broken the law, or even if someone mistakenly thinks you have, I cannot intervene. I am a judge. Call Tolly or Harris. Do it now.”
“I don’t want you to intervene! I don’t care! But I have Emma and you have to come home so if they come to take me away she won’t be alone.”
His stomach washed out to sea. “Lanie, what are you talking about? Is Emma all right? Where is Mrs. Bumpus?”
“Emma is fine and that hag is gone! And you will be glad. At least you will be if you’re half the father I think you are.”
Oh, damn. What had she done? “I’m coming,” he said. Even in the face of all this, he felt a bit of pleasure that Lanie thought he was a good father. Of course, if she was a criminal, her good opinion might not be worth much.
He paused long enough to say to Olive, “I need you to go to the cemetery and stop Delta Dawn from planting a garden on her daddy’s grave. And I need you to not argue with me or scowl at me.” He didn’t stop to access her reaction.
Heavenly Confections was a five-minute walk from the courthouse but he made it in half that. Sure enough, Mrs. Bumpus’s ten-year-old Taurus was not where it had been parked in front of the shop. He entered through the front door and was surprised that everything was business as usual. Kathryn was waiting on Caroline Brantley and Phillip was making frozen coffee drinks for some giggling high school girls. How could things be so normal here when, apparently, some kind of hell had broken loose?
He nodded to Miss Caroline and turned to Kathryn. “Where is Lanie?” he asked.
Kathryn smiled “She went upstairs about an hour ago. I believe she’s still there.”
He ran up the stairs, wondering whether to try Lanie’s apartment or his. He soon got his answer. When he saw that his door was ajar, he hurried in and headed down the hall. The bathroom light was on and there were clothes in the floor — not only Emma’s yellow flowered overalls, but a jellybean-bedazzled chef’s apron and pants.
And on top of the heap of discarded clothes lay a pink lacy bra and matching panties. He shook his head. This was not the time to think of that — not that it ever would be.
He started to call out but then he heard voices from Emma’s room.
“I was bad!” Emma’s voice came out hoarse and gravelly.
“You were not bad,” Lanie cooed. “You’re a good girl.”
Luke stopped outside the door where he could see them but they couldn’t see him. Lanie was wearing a bathrobe — his bathrobe, in fact. The thick white terrycloth one Carrie had bought for him to wear when it was his turn to do the 2 A.M. feeding and diaper change. Emma was sitting at her little vanity table where Lanie was brushing her damp hair.
“Woman said dirty pants are bad!”
Lanie dropped a kiss on Emma’s head and picked up a hair ribbon. “We don’t like having dirty pants, do we? And using the potty is a good thing. But, sweetheart, you are not bad. You are a good girl — a perfect girl.”
Emma raised her hand in front of her face and inspected it “Purple?”
Lanie laughed a watery little laugh. Clearly, everyone had been crying. “Not purple. Perfect. It means you’re the sweetest, best girl in the in the world.”
Luke stepped inside the room and Emma caught sight of him in the mirror.
“Daddy!” She got down off the stool and launched herself at him.
He swung her into his arms and kissed her. “Hi, honeybee.”
“Lanie gived me clean pants.”
“Did she? That was nice of her. You look pretty.”
She put her hand to her hair. “Lanie ties hair bows!”
“I see she does. Why don’t you go find Purr Kitty and see if Lanie will tie a hair bow for her? I think she’s in my room.”
“Yea!” Emma scrambled down and ran down the hall.
Lanie stood before him, red-eyed and tense. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was naked under the robe until Emma left the room. Something primal stirred in him, as much because she was wearing his robe as her nakedness. He wanted nothing more than to drag her off to his cave and — well, it didn’t matter what.
“We needed baths.” Lanie put her hand to the collar of the robe. “Sorry about your robe. It was hanging on the back of the door.”
“I hope you didn’t need baths because you needed to wash away blood.”
“Very nearly.”
“What happened? Where is Mrs. Bumpus?”
“You said you didn’t want to hear.”
“I changed my mind. Did you call Tolly?”
“No. I haven’t had time.”
“Is there a body we need to dispose of?” He was only half kidding.
“No. But I chased her out of here with an iron skillet. It wa
s not my finest hour.”
Until then, he hadn’t really believed Lanie had broken the law. “My God! Did you hit her?”
“No, but I threatened to kill her.”
Worse and worse.
“She assured me,” Lanie continued, “that she was going to call the police.”
Luke sat down heavily on Emma’s bed. “Lanie, what happened?”
Lanie leaned against the footboard. “I came upstairs a little after three and I heard Emma crying. I knew she was crying hard because I’ve never heard her cry before, or really, any noise out of either of you. I guess I thought she was upset because she was getting used to someone new. But she kept crying and I couldn’t stay out of it. I knocked on the door and that demon spawn of a nanny had her barricaded in the kitchen in a wet dirty diaper. Emma was screaming for you.”
Luke put his head in hands. How could this have happened? Why had he not come home to check on them? Had he thought some references from an acquaintance and a mid-day phone call home was enough? Or had he been so desperate for help that he didn’t care?
“Why?” He looked back up at Lanie. “Why would she do such a thing? Emma hates a wet diaper; she won’t tolerate a dirty one.”
“She said you wanted Emma toilet trained and this was an approved method.”
“Approved by who? Beelzebub? Lanie, I never — ”
“No,” Lanie reached her hand toward him, almost touching him, but drew back just before making contact. “I never thought you would think that was all right. Still, I probably shouldn’t have threatened to kill her. So, that’s the story of why we needed baths,” she said lightly with a sigh. “And the story of why I’m going to jail.”
She’d threatened to kill for his child. She was wearing his robe. He stood up and took a step toward her. She smelled like his soap and his shampoo.
He couldn’t help it. He placed his hands on either side of her face, not quite cupping her cheeks but letting his fingertips barely glaze her cheekbones. He could feel the warmth of her skin with his palms. She looked up at him, puzzled. He might have closed his hands on her face and lowered his mouth to hers if Emma had not burst into the room.
Sweet Gone South Page 8
