Lila caught Ada's eye, and jerked her head toward the book. Ada ducked down and scrambled to get it.
“Whoa, whoa, what on earth is going on here?” A voice bellowed. They all turned to see Sheriff Larson frowning in the doorway, eyes bulging and hands on his hips. Lila had never seen so much expression on his face.
Betsy spoke up. “We're protecting this young girl from one of your vile officers.”
“Seeing as I'm here now you can all stand down,” he said. “Carl, take those handcuffs off Miss Moore. I'll drive her down to the station and we're going to get to the bottom of this. Sheriff Larson walked over to Ada and wrangled the book from her arms. “And all of you,” he pointed at the ladies, who tucked in their blouses and patted their permed hair, “can follow us there.”
Chapter 22
Jail Biddies
Lila waited in Sheriff Larson's office, picking at her fingernails and squirming her toes around in the stiff tennis shoes Ada had picked up for her at Auburn Farm Implement. She leaned back and watched through the door as the sheriff filled two mugs from the dregs of a coffee pot that had already been turned off. The ladies sat huddled together on folding chairs in the waiting room. They clutched at their purses, their eyes silently following him as he loped to his office.
Sheriff Larson closed the door and sat down, placing both mugs on the desk in front of him. He picked one up, took a sip, blinked his eyes and twisted his mouth in disgust, then took a large gulp. “Pleasure to have you back, Lila.”
She bit her lip.
“What were you doing in Mr. Whiting's office?”
She didn't know what to say. What kind of person would she be if she threw five little old ladies under the bus? “I was looking for information about Asher. We went out recently, and I felt like he was hiding something from me.”
The sheriff held his cup mid-way to his mouth. “Come on. You can do better than that. Ms. Ada and her gang don't get involved unless it's serious business. Why were you there?”
“Okay.” She squirmed in her chair. “The last time I spoke to Clint, he told me he had some important information about my grandpa's will. He never got the chance to give it to me. And we also thought—I thought—that Clint's death was suspicious. You may not believe this, I know I barely knew him, but I felt a connection with him. I guess I wanted some closure.”
He smacked his lips and clinked down the mug, then sighed. “I know you're still dealing with the loss of your grandfather, and then finding Clint like that must have been a shock. But we cared about Clint too. You have to let us do our job.”
“But what about—,” she lowered her voice, “Carl?”
“I tried to tell you, young lady, Carl had nothing to do with this. You may as well know that Clint wasn't even responsible for the trouble with his divorce. Mr. Whiting took over that case, and Carl knew that before . . . before Mr. Edwards passed.”
“Oh.” Lila looked down at her clasped hands. In the silence that followed, she heard a commotion on the other side of the door, and wondered what was going on now. Whatever it was, she'd rather be out there with those crazy women than sitting here with the Sheriff, feeling completely humiliated. She wished she could melt into her chair.
“That's right. There was no motive for him to hurt Clint. In fact, we haven't found sufficient motive for anyone to kill the man. The most likely scenario is that he had a heart attack. There's nothing unusual about that. I'm only telling you this because I know you're having a rough time right now and I want to help. I told you I was a friend of Isaac's, and I'll look after you if I can. But you're looking at illegal trespassing, and maybe even possession of an illegal substance.”
“What?” Lila sat up tall, her brows knotted in confusion.
“Now, I think it's clear that substance was already in Mr. Whiting's office, but I'm trying to convey to you the seriousness of your situation.” He took a gulp from the second mug, then jerked his head toward the waiting room. She detected a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You might want to reconsider the company you're keeping.”
Lila turned her head toward the door. She raised up in her seat, trying to peek through the small window.
“What is it?” Sheriff Larson asked?
“Isn't it awfully quiet?”
Sheriff Larson got out of his seat immediately, and went for the door.
Lila stood and followed him out of the office and down a wide hallway. Carl stood at the end, his back against the wall, smirking. “They were starting to cause trouble. Caught one of them rooting through things.”
The ladies were lined up across the cell under florescent lights, purses dangling from their delicate hands. Ada's chin was tilted, her tiny mouth pinched. Gladys was beside her, staring right through the sheriff with her magnified orbs. Matilda dabbed her eyes with a hanky, a repentant expression on her face. Leona scowled, one hand wrapped around a bar as if she were going to bust out. Betsy had one hand on her hip, her expression hard, punishing a piece of chewing gum.
Sheriff Larson pushed Carl aside, lowering his eyebrows. “Of all the—go on home, Carl. I'll take it from here.”
Carl scowled and skulked away. The sheriff faced the group of women. He cleared his throat. “I apologize for Carl, but I think it's time we made some things clear. There have been times in the past when I've looked the other way. ”
The ladies gasped, then averted their eyes and twisted their fingers or purse straps.
“That's right. I've known all along. But next time you will be held accountable for your actions, whether or not you think they are justified. That's how the law works. I suggest you stop this nonsense immediately and keep yourselves and this young lady out of trouble. It's what Isaac would want.”
Keys jangled together as he pulled them out to unlock the door.
“Wait.” Lila held her hand out. “Could I have a minute alone with them first?”
The sheriff cocked his head, scrunching down one fuzzy eyebrow and lifting the corner of his mouth. “You want me to leave them in there?”
Lila nodded.
He sighed and waved his hand. “It's your funeral.” He glanced quickly at the row of women. “But be quick. I've got a plate of cold pork chops waiting at home.” The door clanked behind him.
The ladies gawked at one another.
“What's this about, Lila?” Ada asked, her tone sharp.
“I told you she was a tea cake short of a garden party,” Betsy said.
“Lila's a good girl. Just listen to what she has to say.” Matilda put her hanky in her purse. “Is there something you wanted to say, Lila?” Her voice faltered, ending in a whisper.
“Or that the voices want you to say?” Betsy mumbled.
“Oh hush, Betsy,” Leona said, rolling her eyes.
Lila looked Ada in the eye. “I have a right to know what's going on.”
Ada straightened, trying to reach Lila's eye level, her brows perched high on her forehead. “Perhaps it's none of your business. Now let us out of here.”
“Out of jail, Ada? Where I'm lucky not to be after you sucked me into a scheme that you don't trust me enough to give me all the details on? I've nearly drowned, been picked apart by birds, and got a concussion, or I've gone crazy and constructed some of these events myself. Either way, that house I was so fortunate to inherit had something to do with it. Not to mention the only man who was willing to talk to me is dead. I saw a note in Clint's file. He had information about the will, something about unknown assets. Maybe that would have given me a clue about what's going on. ”
“And you think all of that is my fault?” Ada asked. “That's why we're here, to find out about Clint.”
“You know more than you're saying. You're just like Grandpa; you clam up and back away if you think someone is digging for information. I want to know why Grandpa suddenly abandoned his home, his family, and his friends for Middle-Of-Nowhere-Wyoming. I want to know what happened between you two and Uncle David. And I want to know why that hous
e and that awful pond are out to get me.” Ada's eyes were saucers, her lips sucked in tight. Lila continued, her tone gentler. “But I also want to know where I come from, the good things along with the bad.”
Ada's face softened. She bowed her head, silent for a moment. “It's not that I don't trust you, dear. There are things that should never resurface. Sometimes the past makes you afraid and ashamed, and dredging it all up would betray the confidence of others. It puts them in danger.”
“Like maybe all your friends get thrown in jail? Or a m-murder of ravens tries to kill your niece? Do ravens come in murders? Or just crows?”
“An unkindness of ravens,” Gladys whispered.
Ada raised grief-stricken eyes. “Lila, what you ask is not mine to give. I'd heard things about the pond, but I didn't know if it was true. It—it can't be.” Her voice was fearful. She glanced at the others as if for reassurance.
“It's nonsense,” Betsy said.
Matilda held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a whimper.
“Just because we don't understand it, that doesn't make it nonsense.” Gladys's voice was grave. She held Ada's arm gently.
Ada was somewhere else for a moment, then her eyes flashed at Lila. “And I didn't know anything about the house until the other night, when you were hurt. You're right. You shouldn't be in this situation. I love having you here, but it's not safe. Maybe you should just sell the house and go ahead with the plans you made before coming here. Young people like you don't stay in this town.”
Lila's eyes pricked. She took a big breath and held back the tears. What plans? Before coming here, she was a girl in a long tradition of strong women who didn't know what she wanted. If she could finish that house she'd have her answer.
But it wasn't just about finding her calling in life. Somewhere along the line, Lila had fallen hard for that house. The authentic, charming details, the romantic wallpaper, and the idyllic front porch were part of it. But the history clinched it. The house was the realization of the American dream for her grandparents and her great-grandparents. The structure was the physical manifestation of Phillip's love for Elaine. The faded pink exterior proudly displayed Isaac's devotion for Phoebe. And it could have been a home for her.
Regardless of how she felt, there wasn't enough money. The house might kill her before she was done anyway. And it sounded like Ada wanted her to go too. She'd lost her grandfather and now she was losing Ada and everyone else here, just when it was starting to feel like home.
The thought of facing Asher after breaking into his office made her want to run away right now. She'd seen how he was suffering, and this is how she showed she cared. He needed someone, but it wasn't her. He would have realized that soon.
A week ago she would have thought Max wanted her here. She remembered the surprising hues of gold and green in his eyes when she was close enough to notice. He didn't always say the right thing, and he probably wouldn't know how to lay on the charm if he wanted to, but he'd always seemed honest and genuine.
Of course, she'd been wrong about that too. He'd forgotten she existed the second his ex showed up, which was probably good, at least where Juniper was concerned. Lila worried about Erica's stability, and hoped beyond reason that Erica could be the mother the little girl needed. At least she was there. The best thing Lila could do for Juniper was leave her family alone.
Ada's voice broke the silence. “I can tell you one thing. It's about the note in Clint's file. My father built that house during the Great Depression.”
Leona interrupted. “Nobody else was building houses like that back then, if they built at all.”
“'Course everyone knew he'd do anything for Elaine,” Betsy said. “People still talk about how gorgeous she was. Her eyes were just like yours, Lila.” All the women nodded their heads.
Ada cleared her throat. “He built my house too, right next door, after I got married. Everyone wondered where he got the money. It's true that we never did without, even during years when crops were bad and others were struggling. And he never took credit, but he did things for people.”
Matilda beamed at Ada. “Remember when Rupert Wasden was doing so poorly, and his old tractor finally broke down? He went out one morning and there sat a shiny new John Deere. He swore to the day he died it was your daddy's doing, but Phillip never admitted to it.” She turned to Lila. “You probably don't know what one of those costs.”
Ada continued. “But after Mother died, the dementia set in. It was difficult to manage things for Daddy, especially since he was always so private about finances. There was so much he didn't remember.” Ada paced in the cell, wringing her hands.
“I assumed he'd made good investments, and it ran out. David thought there was a fortune though, and he was sure Isaac was keeping it a secret. They argued about it a couple of times. Of course, it wasn't the only thing they fought about.” The women looked at her with sympathetic eyes, and Ada lifted her chin a fraction. “Anyway, I'm sure Clint and Issac discussed it. Dad had a special place where he kept important documents and such. He told Isaac once that's where his will would be. But it wasn't there. Clint had to help us sort everything out after Dad passed. One time when David was away on business, Isaac and I went through the whole house from top to bottom, just to make sure.” She stood still. “We didn't find anything. But I'm guessing Clint never let go of the notion.”
“Neither did David,” Leona said. Matilda gave her a sharp nudge and Leona sighed.
Lila passed her eyes along the solemn faces. “It doesn't explain much, but thank you for telling me.” She walked out of the office and called for the sheriff to let them out. They left the building, heads hung and lips silent. As they walked down the front steps, Gladys caught up with her.
“I thought you should know, I opened the book.”
“Huh?” Lila asked.
“The book from Mr. Whiting's office, Sheriff Larson set it down on the front desk. That's what Carl caught me looking at.”
With all that had happened, Lila had forgotten about the book. “What was in it?”
“White powder. I'd guess it was drugs. I knew there was something I didn't like about that man. You're not going out with him again, are you?”
Lila laughed. “After I broke into his office, went through his things, and probably got him busted for possession of an illegal substance? I don't think so.”
Gladys looked pleased. “Good.”
If anything, Lila felt more sorry for Asher. With all the pain he was hiding it wasn't a surprise to her that he might have a drug problem. But then she remembered the Snapple, and how afraid he was that alcohol would turn him into his father. Would he so carefully avoid one vice only to fall into another?
Lila, Ada, and Gladys walked around the building to the Cadillac. A couple of quiet minutes later they were in Ada's driveway. Ada stopped at Lila's window before going inside.
“Don't worry, dear. Everything's going to be alright. Sheriff Larson talks tough, but he's a big puppy dog. I'm sorry we got you into such a mess. We're just a bunch of silly old women.” The false cheerfulness fell out of her voice. “Perhaps it's time to let things be. I'll see you after you drive Gladys home. Will you be okay walking back alone?”
Lila thought about staying in the old house again. Ada had let her know it was time for her to go. She didn't want to impose on her any longer, and she could use some time alone. But Isaac's house certainly didn't want her around. Anyway, she knew Ada would worry. She'd stay with Ada a little while longer, until she made a plan and got the house up for sale.
“Yes. I'll be fine.”
Chapter 23
Betrayed
It occurred to Lila that Fall was a deception. It felt like a life-giving breath of air. The warm and vividly-colored foliage provided a pleasant distraction. The Society ladies welcomed a rest from battling the weeds in their gardens. A bounty of corn and squash spilled from gardens and produce stands after the last tomatoes had been gathered and suspended in rows o
f glass jars on pantry shelves. The cool, rejuvenating air was a relief to sunburned skin, and the wet blanket of humidity lifted. Lila watched the kids in town, bubbling with dread and anticipation at the thought of a new school year. How easy it would be to forget that Fall is not a new beginning but a winding down. The warm, golden sun looked back on its glory days. The scarlet and yellow of the leaves bid a final farewell. Soon the trees would reach bare branches toward a bleak sky. When the gourds were all plucked and the corn stalks stood lifeless and brittle, the gardens would be barren. Fall was an elderly person who noticed every detail, every childish laugh, and relished in every delight, aware that her life cycle would soon come to an end.
Lila was not fooled. She felt the end of the nourishing seasons in her bones. But she wanted to make the best of the time she had left in Auburn. She cleaned the old house again, then packed up her belongings, including the things she'd borrowed from Ada. She paused at the door with her last armload and looked at the Spectre-Grey living room, and the dining room, where fragments of paper still hung from the walls. Usually she saw unlimited potential, but this time she only saw the mess she'd left behind. She sighed before closing and locking the door, then carried her things to the truck to take them back to Ada's, where she'd been staying since the night she'd been run out of this old house.
Lila had enjoyed helping Ada again. Her days were spent changing light bulbs, raking leaves, and running errands. She'd done her best to put behind her any unpleasantness from the night she'd forced Ada to talk. They'd stayed up late together drinking herbal tea, playing rummy, and chatting under the yellow kitchen lights. She'd stored away any information Ada offered about Issac and Phoebe, Phillip and Elaine, and the people she'd met over the summer who made up this town. The comfort she'd felt on those nights made the ache of leaving grow stronger.
Two days after the break-in, she'd mustered the courage to visit Asher. She wanted to apologize to him, and find out how much trouble she'd gotten him into. She also wanted to tell him she was leaving, and give him the opportunity to buy the old house if he wanted it. Opportunity? Maybe that wasn't the right word. Who would buy it after the rumors it was haunted? And he'd admitted it was a money pit. Besides, she guessed he was just being charitable when he'd offered to take care of it for her. She wouldn't dream of asking him for a favor now. But on the off chance that he really wanted it, it was his.
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