Hornswoggled - An Alafair Tucker Mystery

by Donis Casey

  “Oh, but I do,” Alice said. She leaned toward him, sincere. “I’m flattered that you’d feel comfortable enough to talk about such a hard thing with me. And I do understand. With her dying that terrible way, I expect you feel that now you’ll never know what troubled her.”

  “You do understand. Even though Louise went looking for comfort in the arms of another, I could have forgiven her. I didn’t want a divorce, but if she was so unhappy with me, I’d have given her one, if she had only asked.”

  “No husband of mine will ever have to guess what’s on my mind,” Alice assured him. “If something bothers me, I want it out in the open so it can be fixed.”

  “You’re a rare girl, Alice,” Walter said. “The fellow who wins your hand is going to be mighty lucky.”

  The breeze picked up and stirred the branches over their heads. White petals showered down on them, and they stopped walking. “Hush-h-h,” the trees told them. And they did.

  They stood and looked at one another for a long moment as the swirling snow of petals settled around them. Walter removed his linen cap and held it to his breast. Alice felt the hair rise at the back of her neck.

  “Alice!” Sophronia’s childish voice calling her name caused Alice to start violently and she whirled around.

  “Here, Fronie,” she called in reply.

  The little girl burst through the trees at a skip. “I found you!” she exclaimed, and threw her arms around Alice’s waist in triumph. Her deep dimples gave her grin a particularly impish quality. “Phoebe said y’all might be in the orchard, and she was right! Mama wants you, Alice. She said we got to get ready to go and Grace needs changing.”

  “All right, Fronie,” Alice said. “You go on back and we’ll be along directly.”

  “I’m supposed to bring you back my own self,” Sophronia protested.

  Alice and Walter exchanged a glance. Alice could feel the heat in her cheeks. She sighed. Walter seemed to take the intrusion in stride.

  “Well, then, Miss Sophronia,” he invited. “Lead on.”

  Chapter Five

  Four days after Easter, on a cool, cloudless spring morning bursting with forsythia and flowering fruit trees, Alice Tucker came waltzing into her mother’s kitchen with a bucket full of spring greens. She really was waltzing, too. She glided through the back door, extended her arms, and made a couple of lazy turns around the kitchen before setting the bucket on the cabinet and giving Alafair a kiss on the forehead. Alafair smiled but didn’t pause from kneading the enormous mound of bread dough in front of her.

  “You’re in a mighty good mood,” she observed to her daughter.

  “And why not?” Alice wondered. “It’s a fine day and I have nary one thing to complain about.”

  Alafair laughed at that. “I’ve never known that to stop you if you’re of a mind to complain.”

  “Well, I ain’t,” Alice assured her. “Phoebe sent over these greens. I’m going to wash them and put them in some cool water so they’ll still be crisp for dinner.”

  “How’s her garden?”

  “It’s not as far along as yours, Ma. I noticed coming in that there’s a passel of radishes that could use to be pulled.”

  “We’ll make a nice wilted salad for dinner. Did you see Daddy on your way back to the house?”

  “Yes, he’s back in the mule paddock with the two new hired men.”

  “Fetch me the loaf pans, would you, honey? I like both those boys that Daddy hired last month. Both polite and hard workers. I hope they stay awhile. Both easy to look at, too. Micah’s a charmer, but that Dutch boy, Kurt, I can’t understand a word he says.”

  Alice, busily rinsing the greens in spring water, sniffed her disdain. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Alafair crooked an eyebrow and looked over at her. “This is a red letter day. I thought there never was a fine looking boy that you didn’t notice.”

  “I’ve decided to set my sights high, Ma,” Alice informed her with a grin. “No farmers for me. I’m going to marry a businessman, or a man with a profession, and live in a fine house in town. Drive around in an automobile. Going to wear fancy dresses and get fat.”

  Normally, Alice’s sass would make Alafair laugh, but today, something in the girl’s tone made her heart leap with dread. “My, my,” she responded, with calculated calm, “do you have somebody in mind?”

  “Maybe I do,” Alice admitted. She walked out the open back door and through the enclosed back porch to toss the gritty water she had used for the first rinse of the greens out into the bushes. Alafair punched the dough nervously until Alice returned to the kitchen and dumped the greens into a second pan of water.

  “Do I know this paragon?” Alafair continued.

  Alice blinked at her across the table, mentally shifting back to the interrupted conversation. The corner of her mouth quirked up ironically and she shrugged. “Well, there isn’t anybody, really,” Alice admitted. She wiped a stray lock of blond hair out of her eyes with the back of one wet hand. “Or, he doesn’t know it yet, I should say. But maybe I’ve got my eye on somebody.”

  Alafair kneaded intensely while she pondered her next move. Should I say it, she wondered to herself? Alice was a beautiful, funny, life-loving girl, but she was contrary. If she got it into her head that her mother, or anybody, for that matter, didn’t approve of the man she had set her sights on, she would be twice as determined to have him. Alafair schooled her voice to be as bland and noncommittal as possible.

  “Is it Walter Kelley?” she asked.

  Alice laughed. “Why, yes it is, Ma. How’d you know?”

  Alafair gave her bread dough a violent punch. “Well, I ain’t blind, darlin’,” she answered sweetly. “You two were practically in each other’s pockets over at Grandma’s on Easter Sunday.”

  “I didn’t know I was that obvious,” Alice said, not abashed in the least.

  “I’m surprised you’d be interested in somebody who is so much older than you. He’s thirty if he’s a day.”

  “I want somebody older,” Alice informed her. “No boys for me. Walter has had time to get himself established. He’s a successful man, with his own business and a nice house. Knows how to treat a lady, too, having been married and all.”

  “Yes, about that…” Alafair began carefully, picking her way through her objections as though they were spring traps.

  Alice gave her mother a piercing glance over the greens. “I knew you’d be worried about that, Ma, but you shouldn’t be,” she said firmly. “The poor man has had his share of troubles, but they weren’t his fault.”

  “I just don’t want you to get yourself into a situation where you might get hurt,” Alafair ventured.

  “I know, Ma,” Alice conceded. “But I think you should trust me. I’m not a child.”

  She rose to throw out the second pan of rinse water, and as soon as she was out of the room, Alafair slumped over her well-kneaded dough with a sigh. Oh, child, she thought. Lord, watch over my daughter, and gird my loins for a fight if one is coming, because I’ve got a bad, bad feeling about Walter Kelley.

  ***

  There was no one at the house except Alafair and the baby when Grandma Sally came riding up on her big chestnut thoroughbred late the next morning. Martha had ridden her bicycle to her job as secretary to Mr. Bushyhead at the First National Bank of Boynton, Alice and Mary were visiting Phoebe, and the younger children were at school. Thursday was Alafair’s sewing day, so she had a basket of mending beside her rocking chair on the porch, but it was such a pretty morning that she was having trouble making herself get down to business. Instead, she and Grace were playing a rousing game of peep-eye with one of Shaw’s workshirts when Sally rode up to the gate and dismounted.

  The long-legged thoroughbred was entirely too big for Sally, and Alafair thought that she looked rather like a baby astride a barrel. She was dressed in a blue poke bonnet and a long-sleeved calico shirt, and was wearing a pair of men’s trousers and boots under her skirt. Sally had ne
ver been one to be swayed by fashion.

  Alafair smiled as Grandma Sally swung out of the saddle and jumped to the ground. Sally stretched up and removed the saddlebags before she walked up to the porch.

  “What did you bring me, Ma?”

  “A peck of sweet peas.” Sally sat herself down in the cane chair next to Alafair and traded the bags for the baby.

  “Delightful!” Alafair exclaimed. She dug into one of the flour sacks in the saddlebag and pulled out a couple of fat pods. She slit one open with her thumbnail and popped the sweet English peas into her mouth. Alafair loved English peas, but she and Ruth were the only ones in the family who did, so Alafair never wasted good garden space raising them herself.

  “Where’s the kids?” Sally wondered as she bounced Grace on her knee.

  “Young ones in school and most of the older ones over at Phoebe’s pulling up green onions and planting squash.”

  “Good. I’ve been meaning to get over here for a while and tell you about my talk with Walter Kelley on Easter.”

  Alafair smiled as she picked up a ripped shirt and began rummaging through her sewing basket for matching thread. “I’ve been curious,” she admitted. “Just yesterday, Alice told me she’s got her eye on Walter, but I didn’t want to question her too close. If Alice thinks I’m snooping into her business, she’ll shut up so tight I’ll never find out another thing.”

  “I know what you mean,” Sally commiserated. “When Hannah was young, she was just like Alice. Drove me to distraction. But Hannah turned out all right, and I’m sure Alice will, too. She’s a smart girl. You know, on Easter, I made a point of sitting across from Walter and Alice, and I must say he’s a personable one.”

  Alafair rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem.” She measured off a length of thread and bit it off the spool with a snap.

  “I know. Anybody would think, just to look at them together, that they make a good match for one another. They both love to talk and laugh, and neither of them ever met a stranger. They’re both mighty good looking, too, and used to being admired. He’s pretty worldly, though, next to her. He’s had some trouble in life, and she never has, yet.”

  Alafair looked up from threading the needle. “You think he’s out to take advantage of her innocence?” she asked, concerned.

  “No, not necessarily,” Sally said. “I do think he’s interested in her, though. A man who’s been married can find it hard to live without a woman, and she’s a good catch, so pretty and lively. Alice sure looked to be interested in him. I guess she is, too, after what you told me. He’s well off, after all, besides being good looking. He could buy her lots of things and provide for her very smartly.”

  “But is he a good man?” Alafair asked fretfully. “Would he make her happy? Would he be a good husband and father?”

  Sally managed to shrug while making a goofy face at the baby. “That’s the question. And young girls aren’t the best judges of these things, either.”

  “No, they ain’t,” Alafair agreed. “I can’t help but keep thinking about that poor wife of his. What drove her to take up with such low types that she got herself murdered while her husband was out of town?”

  “Well, now…” Sally began. The baby began to fuss and Sally sat her down on a blanket on the porch. Grace rolled over on her back and began to chew happily on a cloth dolly.

  “Well, now?” Alafair prompted.

  Grandma Sally eyed her for a second before deliberately removing her bonnet and sitting back in the chair. “Hattie told me something that don’t reflect well. But it’s just gossip, now, so you’ve got to take it for what it’s worth.”

  Alafair’s expression didn’t change, but her sewing immediately became more like stabbing. “I’ve been warned,” she acknowledged. Since her husband Scott was the law in Boynton, gossip from Hattie carried a little extra cachet.

  “As you know, it seems that Louise Kelley’s sister Nellie Tolland hates Walter like poison. Nellie thinks that Walter is a tomcat, and it was that very catting around that drove Louise to her downfall. You know the Crockers over by Council Hill?”

  “Don’t believe I do.”

  “I used to know a Crocker boy back in Arkansas,” Sally filled her in. “A bunch of them come out here right after statehood and got them a place. Well, old Adam Crocker has him a daughter named Peggy, a girl of about twenty now, I reckon. Used to be betrothed to Billy Bond.”

  “I know of the Bonds. Somebody in that family buys a mule from Shaw every year or so.”

  “It seems that Peggy got herself enamored of Walter Kelley a couple of years back and ended up in a delicate condition. Whether the daddy was Walter or Billy was a matter of some discussion thereabouts. The tale is that Peggy broke up with Billy and tried to talk Walter into leaving his wife, but Walter was having none of it. Miz Kelley wasn’t the least happy about the business, don’t you know. Seems that Walter had strayed before, when they lived in Kansas City, and had promised his wife he’d mend his ways. Well, after that, seems their life together was a misery. In fact, Hattie thinks the reason he went to Kansas City that week was that Louise caught him making eyes at some pretty gal and went at him hammer and tongs. He expected he’d better leave town for a spell and let her cool off, I reckon.”

  Alafair rolled her eyes at the folly of it all, and Sally chuckled before she continued. “Anyway, Peggy lost the baby, I hear, but she and Billy ended up with broken hearts, and Peggy’s daddy Adam swore to tear Walter limb from limb. Louise probably wouldn’t have objected much.”

  Alafair had stopped sewing and sat looking at her mother-in-law in frozen horror. “Peggy was the girl at the funeral!” she exclaimed.

  “I think so,” Sally agreed. “She must still pine for Walter.”

  “Why have I never heard a breath of this before now?”

  “It ain’t exactly the kind of thing the family would bruit about.”

  “I guess not,” Alafair admitted. She dropped the sewing into her lap. “Ma,” she said, troubled, “do you think it’s possible that Walter Kelley killed his wife?”

  “Walter was in Kansas City at the time,” Sally pointed out.

  “Well, could he have paid somebody to kill her or something like that?”

  Sally blinked at her before she answered. “Anything is possible, Alafair. Walter don’t really seem to me like the type to hire murderers, though. And even after Louise died, he didn’t end up with Peggy, did he? I have in mind that he’s just too fond of the female sex. I’ve seen many a man like that, you know. They don’t mean to hurt anybody at all, but they just can’t help themselves. They just don’t think. Then they feel bad when their wives suffer, until another pretty young gal comes along and they do it all over again. I expect it was just like Scott thought. Louise was unhappy in her marriage, but got to looking for comfort in the wrong places.”

  “And met up with a villain,” Alafair finished for her.

  “Just so.”

  “But…” Alafair appended, and Sally smiled.

  “Anything is possible,” Sally repeated. “If he did, he wouldn’t be the first man to find a way to rid himself of an inconvenient wife.”

  Alafair’s gaze wandered off into space as she pondered this possibility. “Do you remember,” she said at length, “after we had first moved into the soddy just after Gee Dub was born, that time that Alice got away from me? It was in the spring, just before her and Phoebe turned two. Martha was four and Mary was three, Gee Dub was just a baby, and I was expecting again. To say I was tired would be a faint word for it. That was a pretty day, mild and breezy, if I remember right. Me and the kids had had a boisterous morning. It was impossible to keep things clean in that soddy, and the kids were all in a fractious mood. By the time I got them all down for a nap, I was ready to fall over, myself. Usually I’d try to get some work done in the rare times I got them all to nap at the same time, but that day I was so tired that I fell asleep with them on the bed. When Gee Dub woke me an hour later by crawling all ove
r me, three of the girls were playing together on the bed, but Alice was gone.

  “She was nowhere to be found. I hunted all over that soddy and the yard, and was about to load the bunch of them up in a wagon and head to the pasture to find Shaw, when Miz Eichelburger from the farm over next to ours came riding up with Alice on the pommel of her saddle. Told me she had found the imp running down the side of the road in nothing but her drawers, heading for who knows where, happy as a basket full of puppies.”

  “I’ll declare!” Sally laughed. “That’s a pretty far piece, from your old soddy to the road.”

  “She must have took herself off as soon as I fell asleep. That’s the way Alice has always been. She rushes off into adventures without a worry in the world, certain sure that nothing bad could ever happen to her. I could rein her in when she was a kid, but she’s no kid any more, and where she’s rushing off to now, I can’t follow.”

  She stuffed the mending back in the basket. “Would you watch the baby for a spell until the girls get back, Ma? About an hour, I expect.”

  “I’d love to,” Sally assured her. “Where are you going?”

  “Into town to talk to Scott.”

  Sally nodded. “What do you want me to tell the girls, or Shaw, if he comes back to the house before you do?”

  “You can tell Shaw the truth, though he’ll just think I’m a busybody. Tell the girls I’m looking for pokeweed or some such. I’ll cast my eyes about for some on the way home to make you honest.”

  Grandma Sally smiled. “All right then, go and set your heart at ease. Take my horse. He’s a fast one.” She picked Grace up off the blanket and sat her in her lap, waving the baby’s fat little fist at Alafair’s back as she retreated down the porch steps. “Say ‘bye-bye, Mama,’” Sally instructed. “And good luck.”

  Alafair swung herself up into the saddle, arranged her skirt to cover her black-stockinged knees, and turned the horse’s head toward town.

  ***

  At a canter, Alafair covered the two miles into Boynton in fifteen minutes. She swung out of the saddle and threw the horse’s reins over the hitching post in front of the sheriff’s office, then bounded up the wooden steps, still moving quickly from the brisk ride. Sheriff Scott Tucker was pouring himself a cup of coffee when Alafair entered the office. He lowered the pot gently back down onto the Franklin stove and smiled when he recognized Alafair. Shaw’s cousin Scott Tucker was a medium-sized man, running to plump, with thinning hair, a pleasant face, and twinkly blue eyes. He owned the mercantile and a small hotel in Boynton, both of which his wife ran. He had gotten himself elected Sheriff several years before, and he took the job very seriously.