Hornswoggled - An Alafair Tucker Mystery

by Donis Casey

  On a bench, Alafair kept a wash tub and a rinse tub at the ready. She drew water from the pump near the back door to fill her tubs, then swished the diapers around in the lye water a few times before she transferred them to the wash tub to soak in soapy water. She smiled to herself, remembering that when Martha was a baby, she had used a stick for the task. Twelve infants later, she used her bare hand. She scrubbed the diapers on the washboard, rinsed them in clear water, ran them through the hand wringer, and hung them to dry on the line she had strung across the porch.

  She filled a bucket with a strong lye solution, then took it and the used diaper-soaking water to the outhouse, one pail in each hand and an old broom tucked under her arm. She dumped the diaper water down one of the holes, then splashed the lye water around the interior of the outhouse, furiously scrubbing it down with the broom. She returned to the porch to clean the diaper pail, refill it with disinfectant, and dash the wash water onto the bushes next to the back door.

  When she went back inside, Martha and Mary were putting the dishes away, and Alice and Grace were on the floor, engaging in a riotous ticklefest and laughing hysterically, much to the older girls’ amusement.

  “Alice, if she wets her drawers, you’ll be cleaning up after her,” Alafair warned, more amused than annoyed.

  Alice caught her breath, wiped her eyes, and stood up with the giggling child under her arm. “I reckon to go into town today and buy me some material for a skirt, Ma,” she said. “Neither Martha nor Mary want to go. Is there anything I can pick up for you while I’m there?”

  “Not so fast, sugar,” Alafair cautioned. She ladled some water into the wash basin and lathered up with her soft, pale yellow, homemade hand soap. “This morning I noticed that the hen house needs to be cleaned and raked out. I don’t want no sick birds on my hands. A couple of you girls can do that, while the other one turns the manure into that end of the garden that I dug up yesterday. Then in a couple of weeks I can plant some tomatoes in that section.” Alafair raised her voice to be heard over the groans that greeted this pronouncement. “…And the green beans need to be picked over for bugs and weeded.”

  “I wish I’d gone to work, now,” Martha said.

  “Who’ll be taking care of Grace?” Alice asked.

  “I’ll take care of Grace,” Alafair told her, as she toweled her hands. “I want to start cleaning out the kitchen cabinets before dinner. Put in some fresh bay leaves to keep the critters out of there.”

  “Let me do that, Mama,” Alice requested. “I’ll get dinner, too. That way I can still go into town this afternoon without having to wash all over and burn my clothes.”

  Alafair looked at her other daughters. “Do y’all girls object?” she asked.

  “Not if Alice promises to return the favor,” Martha said.

  The corner of Alice’s mouth quirked. “I’m sure you’ll get back at me one way or the other.”

  Alafair shrugged. “It’s all right with me, then. I don’t mind digging. Just see to it that you keep a good eye on Grace while you’re working, and call us in plenty of time to wash up before dinner.”

  Chapter Seven

  Later that afternoon, Alice Tucker was strolling down Main Street in Boynton, window shopping. She had had a busy day. Following a morning of chores, she had borrowed Martha’s bicycle after dinner and ridden into town to visit a girlfriend. From there she had called on her aunt Josie and cousin Maxine Cecil, then dropped in for some gossip with Mrs. Fluke, the postmistress. She followed that with a visit to Cousin Scott’s wife Hattie, at the Mercantile. She had bought several yards of material while she was in the store—a light green poplin that would make a pretty spring frock. Hattie had thrown in a piece of pale blue grosgrain ribbon that matched Alice’s eyes. Alice tied it around the crown of her white straw boater, and was feeling quite jaunty as she biked down the street with her package in the basket that hung from the handlebars. The tails of her ribbon bounced off the brim of her hat as she rode along the brick pavement.

  The street was busy with traffic on this weekday afternoon, mostly wagons and buggies and a few horseback riders. The odd automobile, however, was no cause for excitement in these modern times, so Alice paid no particular attention to the vehicle coming toward her until the driver came to a stop in the middle of the street and honked his horn at her. She stopped pedaling and put on her best smile when she saw who it was.

  Walter Kelley doffed his hat grandly. “Afternoon, Alice,” he called. “Where are you off to with all them bundles in your basket?”

  “I’m on my way to Williams’ Drug Store for a flip,” she told him. “Shopping makes me dry.”

  “Care for some company?”

  “I might.”

  He jumped out of the driver’s seat. “Throw your packages in here, then. I’ll strap your bicycle to the back and give you a lift.”

  The fact that the drugstore was less than half a block away was of no moment whatsoever. Alice tossed her bundle onto the seat, gathered her skirt in one hand, and hoisted herself into the auto as Walter strapped Martha’s precious bicycle over his spare tire on the back of the automobile.

  “You look mighty pretty,” Walter observed, after he was settled in his seat again.

  “Thank you.”

  “What would you say to a short spin?” he suggested. “It’s such a nice day.”

  “I don’t have all the time in the world,” Alice told him, “but I expect I could spare half an hour or so.”

  Someone behind them in a horse drawn dray hollered at them to move, and Walter put the car in gear.

  “What say we drive out north of town a bit,” he said. “One of my customers tells me that the cranes are coming in.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Once they left the brick-paved streets of town, Walter drove very slowly in order to raise as little dust as possible and spare Alice’s hair, clothes, and respiratory system. The road north to Tulsa was well-maintained, but the dry weather that made it easy to navigate also made it a dusty ordeal for an automobile driver. Fortunately, they didn’t have to drive far before they reached an elongated stand of trees that spanned the road on either side. From a distance, the trees appeared to be covered with enormous showy flowers, but as the Ford approached, the flowers transformed into birds that took to the air on snow white wings. The quarter-mile-wide copse was watered by Cloud Creek on one side of the road and several farm ponds on the other, and served as a comfortable rookery for a flock of small, white egrets. The egrets appeared every spring to spend the warm season raising their families. They were a beautiful sight.

  Walter pulled off onto the side of the road and shut off the engine, and after a moment, the swirling flock settled back onto their perches.

  “I know it’s really spring, now that the cranes have come back to roost,” Alice said.

  “We have big old cranes and herons on the river, up around Kansas City,” Walter said, “but these here ones are pretty small. Do you know what kind they are?”

  “I don’t,” she admitted. “My sister Martha thinks they’re some kind of egret. My sisters and I used to come up here and gather white feathers all season long. Sometimes boys from town come out and shoot at them. I don’t know why. They don’t do anybody any harm and they aren’t good to eat. They’re just pretty.”

  Walter dropped his arm across the back of the seat. “Some folks don’t appreciate beauty. But I surely know a beautiful thing when I see it.” The arm dropped casually over Alice’s shoulders.

  She turned her head and looked at him from under her lashes. One corner of her mouth turned up. “Are you going to buy me that flip or aren’t you?” she said.

  He removed his arm from her shoulders. “I will if you’ll answer me a question.”

  “More questions? And what would this one be?”

  “I expect you know that I hold you in high regard, Alice,” he began.

  She said nothing, but the sly half-smile broadened a little. She looked back tow
ard the birds.

  “What I was wondering,” Walter continued, “was if you thought you might be able to return the sentiment some day.”

  “I might,” she said, after a pause. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I already do, truth be told,” she added.

  Walter grinned. “Well, now, that’s fine,” he exclaimed. “So we might step out together some time?”

  Alice studied his face critically for a moment. “I’d like that, Walter, but my folks think it’s too soon after your wife’s death for us to do any sparking.”

  “Too soon? It’s been nearly a year since Louise died. There’s plenty of ladies around town who would be only too happy to see me go around with their daughters.” He knew he had made a mistake the minute the sentence left his mouth. From where he sat, he could feel the air chill between himself and Alice.

  “Go out with one of them, then,” she said.

  “No, I didn’t mean to say…I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just mean, well, I don’t want anybody else, Alice. Until you came along, I didn’t have no interest in forming an attachment to any young lady at all.”

  Her expression thawed slightly. “Are you talking about a serious attachment?” she asked. “Because I ain’t interested in wasting my time, otherwise.”

  She was making him work harder for her good opinion, Walter thought, than anyone he had known before. He smiled and shook his head. He was enjoying it very much. “I never thought I’d be saying this again, at least not for a long time, but yes, I am talking about a serious attachment.” He turned in the seat to face Alice directly. “You’re different than any girl I ever met. Ever since that walk in the orchard at your grandfolks’ place, I can’t hardly get you out of my mind. You’re mighty special, is all I’ve got to say.”

  Alice was pleased by his declaration, and even excited, but she wasn’t surprised. She was entirely aware of her worth. “What I have to say, Walter, is that I feel the same way. I wouldn’t object a bit if we got to know one another better.”

  “When can I call on your folks?”

  “I don’t expect my folks need to know about this just yet,” Alice said. “I’d just as soon wait until they catch the fellow who killed your wife and that’s all cleared up. If I don’t have to, I’d rather not have to put up with the hard time my mother would give me.”

  “Why, Alice, sugar, it could be months before that happens, if it happens at all. I’d feel mighty bad not to be able to see you for all that long time.”

  “I didn’t say we couldn’t see one another. I’d just prefer that my parents don’t know about it.”

  Walter’s face registered confusion, surprise, and admiration, one after the other, within the space of a second. “How do you propose we go about in secret in a town the size of Boynton?” he wondered.

  Alice didn’t answer right away. Deep in thought, her gaze swept the egret-festooned trees in a slow arc. “I have an idea how we can meet. My sister Phoebe had the same problem when she and John Lee were courting, and she didn’t want Mama and Daddy to know. They found themselves a secret place to rendezvous.” She looked back at Walter. “But before I agree to go behind my parents’ back to see you, I’ll ask you to tell me what happened between you and Peggy Crocker.”

  Walter leaned back in the seat. “Oh,” he said, looking none too comfortable. “All right. I expect you have a right to know. I’m not proud of that, Alice, I promise you. I tried to put the girl off for a long time. But Peggy wouldn’t let it go. Things went farther than they should have. Louise and I hadn’t…well, we had slept in separate bedrooms for months by that time, and Peggy was more than willing. I felt so bad about it after awhile that I broke it off. That story about her being with child, I don’t believe it. I believe it’s a tale she concocted so I’d leave Louise, or else drive Louise to divorce me. In fact, she came to the house when I was at work and told Louise about it. I was riled about that. But then when I told Peggy that there was no possibility of us getting married, she had a mighty convenient miscarriage. That’s why I think it was a story.”

  He paused, grasping for the right words. “Louise…Louise lost her mind after that, I think. I hate to say it, but I don’t know what else. She’d sneak off at night to meet paramours, yet she got religion so bad that she was at church or praying every spare minute of the day. She wouldn’t let me touch her, yet she accused me of running around on her so many times that I figured I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.” He turned in the seat and took Alice’s hand. “It would never have happened if I hadn’t been drove to it by her suspicions.” His dark eyes brimmed.

  Alice believed.

  “My ma thinks you’re a natural-born cheater, Walter, but I expect there’s only so much a man can stand,” she said.

  “If I had an honorable wife, Alice, I’d be the picture of an honorable husband.”

  Alice regarded him thoughtfully, then gave a decisive nod. She extricated her hand from his grip and sat up straight. “This is a real nice spot, close by the nesting birds. It’s a shorter walk for me to get from home to here than into town. If we were to meet here on Monday afternoons, when your shop is closed. Say two or three o’clock. We might have an hour or so to stroll together, or even take a spin in your Ford.”

  “That’s a fine plan,” Walter acknowledged.

  “Then, after Cousin Scott catches the men who killed Louise, you can talk to my father, if we both are still of a mind by then.”

  Chapter Eight

  Less than a month after Alice and Walter conceived their plan, Alafair was making a trip to the mercantile, accompanied by Crook, the hound, who loved to ride in the buggy. She was just outside of town, going over in her head the list of necessities she intended to buy, when she spotted a rangy, stooped figure coming out of the entrance to the cemetery.

  Ned Tolland. Alafair tugged on the reins to slow the horse.

  The man apparently was unaware of her presence, for he didn’t turn around or look toward her as she pulled her buggy to a halt in front of the cemetery gate. Alafair hadn’t had in mind to visit the cemetery. She had no reason to go there. All the members of her family who were wearing the starry crown were buried in the Tucker Cemetery located on her parents-in-law’s farm. In fact, she didn’t really have time to make a side trip, since Alice had taken baby Grace to visit Phoebe, and Alafair expected the baby would be fussing for a meal when they got back to the house in a couple of hours.

  None of those logical reasons stopped her from parking the buggy right next to the gate and calling, “Ned!”

  Ned Tolland was a tall, morose man who always looked like he was bearing the weight of the world on his narrow shoulders. He was dressed in overalls and a straw hat that was drawn down over his forehead as a concession to the gusty wind. Crook jumped out of the buggy, trotted up to Ned, and began sniffing the strange man up and down. Ned reached down and rubbed the hound’s ears, before tilting his head back a little to gaze at Alafair from under the shadow of his hat brim.

  “Morning, Miz Tucker.” Ned seemed not at all surprised to see her.

  “I haven’t seen you since the funeral, Ned,” Alafair began. “I never did get a chance to tell you and your wife how sorry I am that Louise got killed.”

  “Thank you, Miz Tucker. My wife used to be real close with her sister. When Louise died, it left a real big hole.” He ran the back of his hand under his eye.

  “Y’all must miss her terrible.”

  “We do,” he acknowledged. “Louise was a ray of sunshine. I still can’t hardly get over it.”

  Alafair blinked. She had never heard Louise described as a ray of sunshine. “You know,” she ventured, “I was surprised to see Peggy Crocker lurking around during the funeral. I remember that Nellie looked mighty unhappy to see Peggy there that day.”

  If Alafair was expecting a revealing reaction, she was disappointed. Ned shook his head sadly. “Yes, Nellie don’t have no use for her,” he admitted. “Peggy was after Loui
se’s husband. She wanted to run away with him a while back.” He sniffed again. “I wish they had.”

  Intrigued by something on Ned’s boot, Crook stuck his nose into the man’s arch and snuffed loudly. Alafair slapped her thigh to get the dog’s attention. “Crook!” she scolded. “Get back up here.” For an instant, the dog looked as though he was considering whether he wanted to obey, but he finally did as he was told and jumped back up into the buggy beside his mistress.

  Alafair turned her attention back to Ned. “Do you think Peggy had something to do with Louise’s murder?”

  “Naw, I don’t think so,” he said. “Such a pitiful little gal.”

  “So you think it was that man that was last seen with her at the roadhouse, after all?”

  Ned shrugged. “I just stopped by here to talk to Louise, like I do, sometimes, to say I was sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for, Ned?”

  Ned hesitated before he answered, but rather than looking like a man who was considering his answer, he resembled an ox bothered by flies. “Why, I’m sorry Louise died, Miz Tucker,” he said.

  ***

  After Ned mounted and rode off, Alafair drove the buggy right through the gate and parked half way up the narrow road that divided the burial ground in two. She looped the reins around the whip mount before she stepped out of the buggy and began meandering up and down among the scattered stones, reading the names.

  She didn’t want to believe that Ned Tolland could have had anything to do with the murder. The big old sad thing hardly looked like a killer, and besides, it was obvious to her that he must have had feelings of some sort for Louise. Were they the kind of feelings a brother-in-law shouldn’t have? Louise had been gadding about with a man the night she was killed. Could a rejected lover of Louise’s have seen them, and taken out his rage and frustration on her afterwards? Ned Tolland? It was not the first time that Alafair had wondered if jealousy had been the spark that set off this impulsive murder. She decided that she should probably mention her odd encounter with Ned to the sheriff.