“Burt.”
“Mr. Morrison?” Judith set the plate in the cupboard and then turned to study Aunt Lenore’s expression. “That’s so archaic. Are you suggesting Jasmine’s father actually forced her into a marriage she didn’t want? But she was a grown woman.”
“I believe he somehow coerced her into marrying that man.”
Judith sensed by the tone that Aunt Lenore wasn’t overly fond of Hal Emery either. “But why? And why in the world would Jasmine go along with it?”
“That’s what I don’t understand. Why?” Aunt Lenore handed her the last saucer. “I tried to find out from Jasmine, but she kept her lips sealed tight as a drum when it came to Hal and her father.”
“Then you did get to spend some time with her?”
“Not much. When she first came to town, I would try and try to get her to come visit me, but she always had some excuse not to. At first I thought it was because I’m just a boring old lady, and why should a young woman want to spend time with me? But then when she actually came, we had such a pleasant time together, and she seemed honestly glad to be here. And yet, I could tell she was keeping something bottled inside, holding something back that was deeply troubling to her. And she never seemed eager to go, and I always felt that she was about to tell me something, but then she would stop herself. Unfortunately, her visits were far apart and few between. In fact, the last time I saw her was around Christmastime last year. And she was so unhappy.” Aunt Lenore closed her eyes for a moment and swayed slightly, reaching for the edge of the counter to balance herself.
“Are you all right?” Judith asked with alarm. “Do you need to sit down?”
“Please, help me into the living room.”
Judith led her into the tiny living room and eased her down onto the mohair sofa. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. I may have overdone it a little this morning. I weeded and then I watered and then I hung out some laundry and.. .”
“Oh my, and then I show up on your doorstep for morning tea. You must be worn out. Perhaps I should go and let you get some rest.”
Aunt Lenore nodded. “But please, do come back, my dear. We have so much more to talk about. Will you be in town for a while?”
“Yes, a few days at least.”
“Good, good...then you must come back. Perhaps you can stay here.” She leaned her head against a crocheted pillow and began to close her eyes again, but stopped. “Say, Judith, I just remembered. There’s a box of her things, something she left in the spare room the last time she was here. I’ve been meaning to open it, but I just haven’t been able to make myself do it.. .perhaps we could go through it together. Who knows, maybe we’ll find some answers.”
Judith gently squeezed her hand. “Yes, Aunt Lenore. We’ll definitely do that. I’ll try to come back later today. Or perhaps even tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to rest up a little more.”
Then she quietly let herself out the front door. Walking back to the motel, she wondered at the things she’d learned today. Not all that much really. But a forced marriage? In this day and age? It seemed crazy and far-fetched and unbelievable. And yet there was that strange wedding photo. Didn’t it seem to silently confirm such a possibility? But why? Why?
CHAPTER EIGHT
JUDITH MADE HER WAY up the hill to where Jasmine had once lived. And although the noonday sun was beating down on her and she didn’t consider herself to be in very good physical condition, she felt surprised by how easily she walked up the sloped sidewalk, as if the hill had shrunk in size. She remembered how it had seemed so steep to her as she’d huff and puff and then push her bike up that last block. She blinked up at the white two-story house, almost blinding in the bright sun. Shading her eyes with her hands, she studied it carefully. Same lap siding, same round columns on the front porch. But, despite its manicured appearance, it seemed empty. All the shades were down, no potted plants on the porch, no cars in the driveway, no sign of life anywhere. But to her surprised relief, the house no longer seemed so austere and intimidating. In fact, to her grown-up eyes, it actually looked slightly cheap and cheesy, as if some sly architect had been trying to fool someone into thinking this was some grand Southern mansion, when in reality it was just a fifties, midsized family home with very little in the way of style or personality. Scarlett O’Hara would never have wanted to live here.
“You looking for someone?”
Judith turned to see a young woman staring at her as she balanced a sticky-faced toddler over one hip. “Are you lost or something?” asked the woman with a curious frown.
“Oh no, I was just looking at this house. My best friend used to live here, back when we were little girls. I haven’t seen it in ages.”
The woman smiled and shifted the child to her other hip. “Oh, that’s cool. Does it bring back some good memories?”
“Actually, I was just looking at that deck.” Judith pointed to the sundeck on the west side. “I remember when my friend’s dad built that deck and we two girls pretended like it was our stage. We gave several talent shows that summer, singing and dancing and all sorts of things. And neighbor kids actually came round and paid a dime just to see us acting like a couple of idiots.” Judith laughed.
“That sounds like fun. How long ago was that?”
“Goodness, another lifetime.” She glanced at the young woman who looked to be in her twenties. “Probably before you were even born.” She looked back over to the house. “It looks sort of vacant. Does anyone live here?”
“Yeah, but the folks who own it only come here once in a great while, and the rest of the time it just sits empty. They’re sure not much in the way of neighbors either. I just wish they’d sell it to a real family.” She playfully poked her son’s tummy. “Then Ryan here might get some neighbor kids to play with. But those mean old Morrisons don’t seem to care about that.”
“Morrisons?” Judith stared at the woman. “You don’t mean Burt and Ellen Morrison?”
Now the young woman’s face grew dark. “You know them?”
Judith nodded.
“That’s your friend’s family?”
“Her parents.”
“You mean your friend—she was that woman who— uh—you know, died just recently?”
“Jasmine Emery.”
The woman took a step back, almost as if in fear. “Well, I’m sorry. But I gotta go now. Ryan gets real cranky if he doesn’t get his nap.”
Judith eyed the smiling boy who didn’t look a bit cranky. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for talking.” But without saying another word the woman and child hurried back into the house next door. Despite the heat of the sun, Judith felt chilled inside. What did that look mean? Why did the once friendly woman suddenly turn cold like that? Just when Judith had hoped to find someone who might be able to shed a little light on what was going on in this town. She turned and began to walk down the hill. Unsure of where she was going or what she was doing, a plan seemed to unfold with each step. She would return to the motel, look through the phone directory for Hal Emery’s address, then stop by the hardware store under the guise of buying something—what? A flashlight perhaps. Then if Hal was there and working, she’d drive on over to his house just to get a little glimpse of the last place where Jasmine had actually lived. Sure, it was probably a silly plan—and for what purpose? And, yet, somehow it comforted her to think she’d come up with it.
“Hello again,” said Hal in a friendly tone as Judith walked back into his store.
“Hi, Hal.” She tried to look and sound normal, but felt as if she were on some sort of spy mission. “I forgot when I was in this morning that I’d meant to pick up a flashlight. I just hate staying in a strange motel without having one. I mean, you never know when the electricity might go. And I remember how this town could lose energy in a thunderstorm.”
“Smart thinking. And you’re right too, we still get hit with an outage from time to time. Best to be prepared.” He led her to a rack of flashlights.
“And I “spect you’ll need batteries too.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.”
Back at the counter, he smiled at her. “I hope you’ll stop back in here again, Judith.” Then he looked back down at the till. “It’s nice seeing you around.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to think of his comment. Was he actually flirting with her? Or did she just remind him of his deceased wife? “Thanks. I do plan to stick around for a few more days.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger.”
She forced a laugh. “Oh, I suppose one can always think of something they need from a hardware store.”
“That’s what keeps me in business.”
She nodded, glancing around and wondering how he actually managed to stay in business. His stock looked old and dusty, and there wasn’t another single customer in the store. “Are you the only one who works here?” she asked.
“Yep, pretty much. I thought about hiring me a high school boy at the beginning of summer, but then so much happened and all...” his voice trailed off.
“Well, don’t work too hard.” She smiled then made her way to the door and waved. “Bye now.”
His face brightened. “See ya around, Judith.”
Something about him saying her name like that made her uncomfortable. Silly perhaps, but it seemed disloyal to Jasmine. What would Jasmine think? Perhaps she wouldn’t give a rip, as they used to say. After all, Aunt Lenore had said there was no love lost in that marriage. And Judith, for the life of her, could not imagine Jasmine loving someone like Hal Emery—no matter how nice he might try to act.
Knowing that Hal was safely tucked away at the store, Judith drove her car over to Arrowroot Road to search for his house. She came to a rural area with mailboxes along the road. Finally she spied a rusty mailbox with the name “Emery” on it. She started to pull into the long gravel
driveway, but was stopped by a locked gate with a large No Trespassing sign wired to it. Judith got out of the car to take a closer look. Suddenly a pair of wildly barking dogs ran up. Normally, she loved dogs of all kinds, but these vicious beasts appeared to be trained as guard dogs. And their snarling, barred teeth were enough to cause her to quickly back up. But she paused a moment, squinting her eyes to see the house that was barely visible from the road. Shrouded in overgrown brush and trees, she spied what looked like an old mobile home—the kind made of metal with wheels hiding beneath and a hideous aqua and white. How could it possibly be that Jasmine had spent her last days here? No wonder she’d taken her own life! Or had she? This was another piece of the puzzle that Judith could not accept. Jasmine had always been so spunky—a fighter, a dreamer, a doer. But that had been years ago, and as Polly had said, people change. The dogs continued to bark, and Judith finally decided to leave rather than draw some neighbor’s curiosity. But before she could go, she attempted to speak to her friend. She knew it seemed crazy, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Jasmine?” she whispered intently. “Can you hear me? Why did you come’here to live in this horrible place?” She stared at the house again. “And why did you marry that man? Did you love him? What happened to you, Jasmine? Can’t you somehow show me?” Just then the larger of the two dogs lunged at the gate, shaking it so hard she felt sure he’d break through. She turned and quickly climbed into her car and drove away. Tears instantly blurred her eyes.
After a few moments, she pulled to the side of the road and continued to mourn her friend’s sad life. As Aunt Lenore had explained, Judith’s heart needed to grieve if it was ever going to heal. And then, instead of trying to talk to Jasmine, she attempted a feeble prayer—her first attempt in years. It was only a few words, a desperate plea for help, but perhaps it was a beginning of sorts. Then she
wiped her eyes and reached for the ignition key. But in the same moment, she heard a knock on her door. Startled and frightened, she turned to see that it was only a boy, and so she rolled down the window.
“You okay, ma’am?’’ he asked with a raised brow. “Is your car broken down or something?”
“No, I just pulled over for a minute to think. But thanks for asking.”
His face looked clearly perplexed. “But was that you I just saw over at Emerys’ old place?”
“Well, yes, I just stopped for a moment...”
“Why were you stopping over there?”
She was quickly feeling trapped by this overly curious youth. “Do you live around here?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Yeah, I live in that red house next door to Emerys’.” He peered curiously at her. “You remind me of her.”
“You mean Jasmine?” she asked hopefully.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Did you know her?”
“Yeah. I liked her. And she and me talked sometimes.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder as if to see if anyone was watching.
Judith smiled. “Jasmine and I were best friends when we were about your age.”
“Yeah. You kinda look like her.”
She smiled again. “Do you think you could tell me a little about her?”
He glanced over his shoulder again. “I dunno. Maybe some other time. But I don’t think so. My pa won’t like it if he catches me talking to you.”
“Why?”
“He don’t like me talking to strangers.”
“Well, I’m Judith. Judith Blackwell. I’m a schoolteacher. And I was Jasmine’s friend. Tell him I was Jasmine’s best friend.”
“‘That won’t help none. He never liked me talking to her neither.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I gotta go. Maybe some other time.”
“Like when?”
But it was too late, he took off running back toward his house. Judith punched her steering wheel. What was it with these people? What was going on in this town? And why did so much seem to surround someone like Jasmine? It just made no sense. Other than her conversation with Aunt Lenore, nothing made much sense. What was everyone so afraid of? She remembered the cop that Polly had told her about, some special detective who had been asking questions about Jasmine. Maybe it was time to ask him some questions. What was his name?
She wanted to stop by Polly’s and ask, but feared she’d get the cold treatment again if Polly had customers. And it appeared that she did, so Judith just continued on to her motel room where she called, the hair salon, and as if by miracle, she got a straight answer from her cousin.
“His name is Adam something-or-other, can’t recall his last name right now. Guess I’m having another one of my senior moments. But don’t worry, there’s only a handful of men on the force anyway, so it’s no problem to just ask for him by his first name.”
“Thanks, Polly, I appreciate it. Don’t you have any customers right now?”
“Nah, just sent Gertie Sanders outta here looking like Shelley Winters—the old version.” She laughed.
“Well, I’ve had an interesting day, and I think I’m ready to talk to this detective. Maybe he’ll know something by now.”
“I’m curious to hear what you find out. Hey, if you want to stop by here for supper, I could fix us some grilled cheese sandwiches or something easy like that. Nothing fancy, though. I’m not much good at entertaining anymore.”
“Thanks, Polly. That sounds really good.”
“Sixish then?”
“Looking forward to it.”
Next, Judith dialed the police department and asked to speak to a Detective Adam.
“And this is regarding?”
“Oh, nothing important, really. I just wanted to talk with him for a moment.”
”Hmm. Well, he’s not here right now. You want to leave a message?”
She gave him her first name and motel phone number and then hung up. Something about the tone of the man’s voice aggravated her. Maybe it was just small-town cops with too much time on their hands, acting a little too nosy, but it felt wrong.
Tired from her unusually energetic day, she decided to lie dow
n and rest a bit. But sometime later, she awoke to the phone jangling in her ear. Disoriented, she knocked it to the floor first, before finally grappling for the receiver and saying, “Hello!”
“Are you okay?” asked a strange masculine voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Who is this?” she asked irately.
“This is Detective Ford.”
“Who?”
“Look, I have a message to call a Judith, no last name, at this number. Is that you or not?”
“Oh.” Realization hit and she sat up straight. “Detective Adam Ford?”
“Yes, that’s me. Now, what can I do for you?”
“I’m not sure, really...” She wondered how to put this.
“Well, do you want to call me back when you’re feeling a little more sure?” He sounded irritated now.
“No, no, I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard. You see, someone gave me your name, and I wanted to find out about my friend Jasmine Emery.”
“Your friend?” He sounded skeptical.
“Well, actually, we were childhood friends. And I only just heard about her—death, you know. And I came to town and, well, I only seem to come up with more questions, and I’d really like to know what happened—”
“Look, lady I’m a detective. I’m the one who usually asks the questions—not the one giving out the information.”
“I know. But she was my best friend—” She felt her voice catch. “We were blood sisters, and we lost touch, and then I hear about this. And, well, nothing makes any sense.”
“And you think I’ll have all the answers?” His voice was sarcastic.
“I hoped you might.”
“Look, lady, I’m sorry about your friend. But unless you’ve got something to help me, I don’t see any reason why I should help you.”
Judith considered hanging up on this incredibly rude policeman. But then she imagined Jasmine living in that ugly single-wide mobile home, and controlled herself. “Well, how can you be so sure I might not have some helpful information?”
“Do you?”
She could just imagine this man, leaning smugly back in his chair, feet propped on the desk with a pot belly and a disinterested expression across his dull face. He was probably thinking about donuts. Then suddenly she remembered Aunt Lenore’s box. “Yes. I do have information.”
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