Hallowed Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  “She’s sick. She finally has a doctor in Jackson, but she won’t let me go with her.” He shrugged. “She has some prescriptions, and she’s taking them.” The light went out of his eyes as he talked.

  “I’m sorry, Coleman.”

  He looked into my eyes. “Not nearly as sorry as I am.” He picked up his keys from the sideboard and left. I walked to the window and watched as he got in his car, his back straight, his sunglasses hiding whatever he was thinking.

  I felt a chill along my back and knew that Jitty was beside me.

  “You did the right thing, Sarah Booth. You just took another step into the land of the grown-ups. You’re right, I like Coleman. But he has nothing to offer you but empty hope. Heck, that ain’t even as good as a delusion.”

  DAWN WAS JUST chasing the night away as I packed the car with clean clothes. I walked to the barn to bid Reveler a sad good-bye, when Kip Fuquar drove up. She was one helluva rider and she’d come to exercise my horse and love on Sweetie Pie, per her mother’s promise.

  I grinned big as she walked toward me. Sans the six pounds of makeup she’d once worn, she was a beautiful girl. “How’s your mama?”

  “Fine. She sends her love and said for you to come out and visit.”

  “I’ll stop by later. I have to get back to New Orleans right away.” It was Wednesday, and I felt time trickling away from me.

  I put words to action and got in the roadster and headed to Zinnia. I had time for a cup of coffee at Millie’s before I did anything rash like drive to New Orleans.

  It wasn’t even six and Millie’s was already packed. I wedged myself up to the counter, sipped the coffee that Millie abstractedly poured, and waited. In less than ten minutes she came up behind the counter and let out a long breath. “It’s hell during harvest. Every farmer in the county wants a hot breakfast.”

  I didn’t blame them. If I weren’t watching my figure, I’d have ordered French toast. “Have you heard anything?”

  She shrugged. “Not many people care about a dead baby in New Orleans.”

  “Do you know much about Coot Henderson?”

  “I know he’s turned into a drunk. When his girlfriend burned to death in that fire, it changed Coot. He was always a little on the loose side. I mean, he’d drink on duty some, but not falling out drunk. But when—”

  “You said his girlfriend?”

  “Lillith Lucas.” She leaned closer. “Back in the sixties it was a big secret. Lillith and Coot were quite a couple. When Lillith wasn’t scaring the wits out of the teenagers about sex, she was doing the wild thing with Coot.” She made her eyes big. “You can imagine the kinds of comments that were passed around over that one.”

  I put my empty coffee cup on the counter. “Thanks, Millie. That could prove to be very important information.”

  “You’re welcome, Sarah Booth. How’s the case coming?”

  “Better and better,” I said. I put a dollar on the counter and told her I had to get on the road.

  The top was down and the air a little more than brisk as I headed south. It was going to be a much longer drive without Tinkie to keep me company.

  I made the outskirts of Vicksburg before nine o’clock. It was safe to call Tinkie. I dialed the hotel room and held my breath through seven rings.

  “Hello.”

  She sounded awake and chipper. “I’m headed back.” I hated to use the cell phone in the roadster. The noise was awful.

  “I was in the shower. Sarah Booth, instead of straight to New Orleans, zag over to Jackson and come down by the Mississippi coast.”

  “Why?” I liked the Mississippi coast, but I had no reason to visit.

  “I found Doreen’s brother. He lives in Pearl River County. You could swing by there on your way back to New Orleans.”

  “Sure,” I said. I was curious to meet Doreen’s sibling. What magical powers might he have?

  “The family is J.J. and Janey Crenshaw on Alligator Road in McNeil. Number 2323. Her brother’s name is Adam.”

  “Where’d you get this information?” I asked.

  “Sister Magdalen. It seems the good sisters knew more about Doreen than they let on.”

  “I found out something interesting, too,” I told her. “Coot Henderson, the deputy”—I gave her a second to connect the dots—“was romantically involved with Lillith. In 1963.”

  Although math wasn’t my strong suit, I’d added up the time of Lillith’s arrest and the birth of her children, and come up with a potential father for Doreen.

  “Well, he was a good-looking man,” Tinkie said. “I hear he’s drinking heavy now.”

  “One of us should talk to him.”

  “Maybe Sunday,” Tinkie said. “After the ball. And you’d better have a dress, Sarah Booth.”

  “You can count on me, Tinkie. So what are you doing today?”

  “I’m going to talk to Doreen. I have some business with her.”

  My throat suddenly grew tight. “Okay. I’ll take care of the Crenshaws. I’ll call you when I finish.”

  THE CRENSHAW HOME was a modest brick house with a two-car garage. It was old enough to fit well in the large, tree-covered yard. There was a basketball goal, netless, on the garage door. It looked like a good place for a boy to grow up.

  I rang the doorbell and was surprised when both J.J. and Janey Crenshaw answered it. They were in their sixties, but life hung hard on them. They wore thick glasses, and they looked at me with both sorrow and dread.

  I explained who I was and asked if I could talk to them about Adam. Janey Crenshaw’s mouth opened and a long wail of grief issued forth.

  “Adam’s dead,” Mr. Crenshaw said as he put his arm around his wife. “Just come on in,” he said as he led Janey to the kitchen. He installed her in a chair, where she leaned forward and wept against the polished oak table.

  I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, too shocked to say or do anything. Mr. Crenshaw wet a paper towel under the tap and handed it to his wife. She blotted her face, swallowed a few more sobs, and then looked at me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been four years since Adam died, but it hits me just like it was yesterday when somebody says his name.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. They hadn’t even asked me what I wanted with him.

  “Adam’s gone to live with Jesus,” Janey said, new tears welling in her eyes. “I know he’s in a better place. I just weep for myself. I miss him.”

  “How did he die?” I was still absorbing the shock. Adam would have been close to my age. That was pretty young to die.

  “He drowned. It was a terrible accident,” J.J. said. His voice roughened, as if he was fighting tears.

  “Why are you looking for Adam?” Janey asked.

  “I’m working for his sister. She asked me to find him.” It was the truth, as far as it went. I decided against mentioning the inheritance until I spoke with Doreen.

  “Adam had a sister?” Janey’s eyes lit up. “If she’s like him, she must be a wonderful woman. God-fearing, religious. Our Adam never missed a Sunday at the church. He was in the choir, and he spent every Saturday working for the Lord. Well, until he hooked up with Kiley. Why he married that girl I’ll never know.”

  “He was married?” I don’t know why I was so surprised. He was plenty old enough to be married.

  “She’s the one who killed him,” Janey said, her mouth hardening. “She took him off to the river with all those worthless friends of hers. They got him to drinking. They got him out in the treacherous current. His death is on her.”

  J.J. put his hands on Janey’s shoulders, a gesture that could have been comforting or restraining. I couldn’t tell. “Tell us about his sister,” J.J. said. “What’s she like?”

  “She has an interest in religion, too,” I hedged. “She’s very pretty.”

  J.J. nodded. “Adam was handsome, and he turned out to be a good boy. You can tell her that. We got him when he was a toddler. He musta had a hard life before us.”
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  Janey sat up at the table. “The first word he ever spoke to us was the F-word. He just looked right at me and told me to F myself. I was so shocked I sat down and cried.”

  “But we knew God had sent us to help him,” J.J. said. “When the welfare folks told us that he was in a really bad situation at his foster home, we didn’t hesitate. We took him right in.”

  “It took a lot of work, but we got the Devil out of him.” Janey sighed.

  “The first few years, we had our doubts.” J.J.’s voice was shaky. “We weren’t sure we could reach him. When he got old enough to read, he took to the Bible. He’d read and study every night. We never really had to lead him there, he just went on his own.”

  “I got him a little suit with a vest for him to wear to church.” Janey’s face shone with love. “He was a handsome boy, and he enjoyed looking all cleaned up.” Her face darkened. “I never understood what he saw in Kiley. He never seemed to care about the girls at all until she started wagging herself in front of him. She’s just white trash.”

  “I’ll be sure and tell his sister all about him.” I felt sorry for them, trapped with all the “what might have beens” of a dead son.

  “Wait just a minute.” Janey got to her feet. “Come with me.”

  She led the way down a hall to a closed door. She opened it and snapped on a light. “Adam loved Jesus,” Janey said, pointing at a poster that took up most of one wall. It was a graphic depiction of the crucifixion. One that made me take an involuntary step backwards. There was a well-worn Bible beside the bed and several other religious pictures on the walls. Other than that, the room was bare. “He understood that God sent his son to save us. We each and every one have a mission. Adam knew his, yet he walked away from it. It cost him his life.”

  “He had a mission?” I didn’t understand.

  “Adam was going to be a preacher,” Janey said. “When he was ten, he started preaching at the church. He had a real gift. When he turned his back on it for that trashy girl, God called him home.”

  In the last few days, I’d learned that what people believed shaped their entire lives. The Crenshaws made me uneasy.

  “Our Lord suffered mightily for us,” Janey continued as she looked around her dead son’s room. She didn’t seem to notice that all of the pictures showed people in the midst of persecution. “The older Adam got, the more he studied the Bible. He loved the word of God. He could quote whole passages. That was before Kiley.”

  “And after Kiley?” I couldn’t help asking.

  “He got a job running wire for the power company. It paid good, but it wasn’t what Adam was called for. He wasn’t fulfilling his promise.” Janey wiped a tear off her cheek. “He had a God-given talent to preach. Do you think it was a coincidence that his name was Adam?”

  I looked around the room. “I don’t know,” I answered. I didn’t know much except that I was more than ready to leave.

  16

  IT WAS OUT OF MY WAY, BUT I MADE A SWEEP BY PEARLINE’S HOUSE on my way back to the Quarter. It was a relief to be back in the city, but I hadn’t completely left behind the sadness of the Crenshaws. Lillith Lucas had produced two children, both of them obsessed by religion. One was dead and the other was charged with murder. It was a tragic legacy.

  When I saw the same old car parked in Pearline’s drive, I stopped and walked to the house. I knocked on the front door with no results, so I tucked another business card in the screen.

  Back in my car, I tried Tinkie’s cell. A recorded message told me the phone wasn’t in service. A chill swept over me. Tinkie never turned her cell phone off. Never.

  The desk clerk at the Monteleone rang her room, and I left a voice mail for her to call me as soon as she got there. It wasn’t like Tinkie to simply disappear.

  Since I couldn’t find her, I decided to pay a call on the senator. I had a question for him about Pearline’s employment. I also wondered if the maid who’d answered the door on my first visit might not be the mysterious and elusive Pearline.

  On the way, I telephoned Cece. She was supposed to be in New Orleans any day now, and I wondered if she’d talked to Tinkie.

  “Zinnia Dispatch, Cece Dee Falcon speaking.”

  Cece’s voice was rich and deep, with just a hint of boredom. I asked her about Tinkie and discovered her interest was already piqued.

  “No, I haven’t talked with her, but I ran into Oscar last night. He acted very strange.”

  “Oscar?” I was intrigued.

  “He was at The Club, in the bar. I asked him about Tinkie and he started crying.”

  “Oscar?” I tried to sound puzzled, but it was fear I felt, not curiosity. I knew why Oscar was upset. The fact that he was crying made my stomach flip. Oscar didn’t sweat the small stuff.

  “What’s going on?” Cece demanded. “One shouldn’t hold out on one’s friends.”

  More than anything, I wanted to tell Cece my worries about our friend, but it wasn’t my place. “You can ask Tinkie yourself when you get down here. Which will be when?”

  “Tomorrow. My dress is exquisite. And I have a date!”

  She proclaimed the last with such satisfaction that I had to grin. “Good for you. Who is it?”

  “It’s a surprise, dahling. One that will knock you out of your shoes. Do you have a dress?”

  “I will. I swear it.”

  “How’s the case going?”

  “I haven’t stumbled on anything that will prove Doreen’s innocence.” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment.

  “Well, dahling, I’d help you but I have my hands full right now. I’m plotting a coup!”

  As worried as I was for Doreen and Tinkie, I couldn’t help but smile. Cece had something special up her sleeve. “What kind of coup?”

  “There’s to be a very important society event after the Black and Orange Ball. A charity auction! All of us ladies who attend the ball will model our gowns at an auction. The proceeds will go to charity. And I was promised that I could be the emcee. But Ellisea Boudet Clay is trying to blackball me!”

  Indignation rippled in Cece’s voice. Surprise registered in mine. “Why would Ellisea blackball you?” Ellisea had been a big-time model in New York. She wasn’t a provincial or a Baptist.

  “When I interned for that summer at Vogue, I wrote an article about her.”

  “An unfavorable article?” This was like pulling teeth.

  “It implied that her father’s money bought her a runway job.”

  “Was it true?”

  “In a word, yes. And she’s never forgiven me.”

  “What are you going to do?” Whatever it was, I wanted to witness it. Cece and Ellisea going at it would be the catfight of the century.

  “I have a friend at People magazine, and I asked him for a tiny little favor. He ran an auto-track for me.”

  “An auto-track?”

  “It’s a computer program used to gather background information. You know, neighbors, their phone numbers, addresses, that kind of info. Things have been slow around here, and I had some time. I learned some very interesting things about Ellisea Boudet Clay. If she screws with me, I’ll blast her.”

  “Can I see what you got?” I hadn’t told Tinkie anything about my suspicions about Senator Clay, but her instincts were killer.

  “If you participate in the auction.”

  Cece loved nothing better than fashion and a runway. “You can have my gown, but I’m not modeling anything.” Tripping on the runway was a definite possibility.

  “If you want the info, you’ll walk down the runway. And by the way, when I spoke to Ellisea yesterday, she asked a few questions about you and what you were doing in New Orleans. She put it together that we’re from the same town. You’ve got her radar up.”

  “Give me a hint of what you found out,” I begged.

  “Dahling, the fact that her family is Crescent City Mafioso is old news. There’s not an illegal activity that they aren’t in up to their hairlines. The real di
rt is that Ellisea has had laser treatments to remove the hair from her chin. Thick, black hair.”

  “Really,” I said as I pulled into the senator’s driveway. “Aside from unwanted hair growth, what else did you find out?”

  “The Boudets have been rumored to make people disappear. Dahling, how do you think Clay got elected? It was the Boudet money and the Boudet muscle. People were afraid not to vote for him. Ellisea’s neighbor, Mrs. Lorna Fitzpatrick, said she witnessed an altercation between Ellisea and a very upset woman who accused the Boudets of taking her husband to the swamp and killing him because he supported Clay’s opponent.”

  “Anything ever come of it?”

  “No charges were filed, but I did learn that Ellisea is a very despised woman. Mrs. Fitzpatrick referred to her as that ‘ill-bred poseur.’ I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow at lunch. I can’t wait to see you.” There was a click and she was gone. It was just as well; I’d reached my destination.

  I eased out of the car and started through the wrought-iron gate of the Clay home.

  Someone had been decorating. Indian corn hung in clusters around the porch. Unmolested pumpkins lined the steps. Jack-o’-lanterns were far too gauche for Ellisea. It was all very elegant, and oh, so dull. The madam of the house might have the final word in fashion, but it simply wasn’t my style. My Halloween décor included cobwebs everywhere, spiders, grinning jack-o’-lanterns, and at least one ghost.

  In answer to my persistent pressing on the bell, Ellisea opened the front door. Her beautiful mouth slanted down at the corners when she saw me.

  “Thaddeus is busy.” She started to close the door.

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “You’re a nuisance. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

  “Yes, I know what a wonderful relationship the Boudet family has with the police.” I smiled sweetly.

  “What do you want?”

  “Tell Senator Clay I’m here. If he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll be glad to leave.”

  She hesitated, trying to decide if I was threat enough to bother with. She gave a noise of disgust. “Wait here.” She slammed the door, leaving me no other option.