Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 01 - Down Home Murder

by Toni L. P. Kelner

“Of course, Reverend,” Aunt Edna gushed. “I was planning to bake some of those ginger snaps you liked so well.”

  “That would be most pleasant.” He smiled at us all, and for a minute I was afraid that he was going to pass the collection plate before he headed for the elevator. Aunt Nora breathed an audible sigh of relief when the door slid shut.

  “Wasn’t it nice of him to come?” Aunt Edna asked. Her face, usually so pinched, was bright with enthusiasm, and I didn’t have the heart to say anything against the man. Aunt Nora must have felt the same way, because she just nodded.

  Unfortunately, Uncle Loman didn’t give a hoot for his wife’s feelings. He snorted loudly, and said, “Why’d you call that old fart for anyway? I’ve never known a man so in love with the sound of his own voice.”

  “Haw haw haw! In love with the sound of his own voice,” Linwood cackled. “That’s a good one, Daddy.”

  “Shut up, Linwood,” Sue said automatically.

  Aunt Edna bit out her words. “I thought it was very nice of Reverend Glass to take time out of his very busy schedule to come see Paw.”

  Cousin Linwood snorted again, but before Aunt Edna could say anything else, I hurriedly said, “Aunt Edna? Aunt Ruby Lee? Don’t I get a hug?”

  Exchanging hugs distracted them long enough for us to regroup by age and gender. I stayed with the three aunts while Uncle Conrad and Uncle Loman went to light cigarettes in the hall and Vasti went to visit with Linwood and Sue.

  Aunt Edna looked skinnier than ever, especially wearing that shapeless, faded blue cotton shift. I knew she hadn’t always looked like this; I had seen pictures from her wedding. She had been slender, but not skinny, and had worn her hair down on her shoulders instead of tied up in a tight bun. Maybe after twenty years of marriage to Uncle Loman, a man not known for giving compliments, she had lost interest in the quest for beauty.

  Of course most women would look a bit scrawny next to Aunt Ruby Lee’s bountiful curves. If her figure wasn’t enough to make most other women jealous, her shiny blond hair, big blue eyes, and dimples would do it. Looking ten years younger than she was, despite her three children, I could see how my aunt had managed to attract all four of her husbands. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was as genuinely sweet a woman as I had ever met.

  She and Uncle Conrad, a well-built man with dark, wavy hair and dark eyes, did make a handsome couple. Though I had realized the first time I met him that he wasn’t the smartest man in the world, he did seem to adore Aunt Ruby Lee.

  What a contrast Uncle Conrad was to Uncle Loman, even though they were first cousins. Uncle Loman was so wiry you’d think Aunt Edna didn’t feed him, and his washed-out, grey eyes and light hair were nothing like his cousin’s.

  Even the way they stood was different. Uncle Loman was leaning back against the wall, arms folded over his chest, not even looking at Uncle Conrad. Every once in a while he’d say a word or two, but his expression never changed. Uncle Conrad, on the other hand, was waving his arms as he spoke, pacing back and forth in front of Uncle Loman, and he kept looking around as if worried he was disturbing someone.

  My aunts launched into a rehash of Paw’s accident, which was the last thing I wanted to hear right then. Besides, I knew darned well that I had better not leave Sue and Vasti together for too long, especially not with Linwood there to egg them on.

  I walked over just in time for Vasti to smile maliciously at Sue and say, “My, you are getting big. Are you sure it’s not twins?”

  That was unkind, even for Vasti. Admittedly Sue looked like she was ready to give birth at any minute, but it was her third child in as many years. Sue was clearly suffering from the heat. Despite the hospital’s air-conditioning and being dressed in blue jean shorts and a tank top, Sue’s face was flushed and her sandyblond hair was damp.

  Before I could think of anything supportive to say to her, Sue responded to Vasti in kind.

  “The doctor says it’s just one, but I guess it’s taking after its cousin Arthur.”

  I winced. Vasti’s husband Arthur did tend toward the portly.

  “Arthur could stand to lose a few pounds, I guess,” Vasti said. “It must be all that fancy food from all the dinner parties we’ve been going to. Keeping up appearances is so much work, but a woman has to stand behind her husband through thick and thin, don’t you think?”

  Ouch! Not a nice thing to bring up with a couple that was having marital problems. “It sure is hot outside,” I said hurriedly.

  “Don’t take no computer to figure that one out,” Linwood said with his characteristic politeness. He hadn’t changed a bit, although I kept hoping he would. Fleshy and freckled, Linwood had his father’s nearly colorless grey eyes and straw-colored hair.

  “Hey Vasti,” he said, “what’s this I hear about your husband? Someone I know said he was going to start selling imported cars.”

  “Well, it’s not definite yet so I probably shouldn’t say anything.” Vasti looked around the room as if expecting men in trench coats to take note of her words, and then lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Arthur’s been thinking about building a Toyota dealership next door. He says it would pay for itself in the first year.”

  “I wouldn’t own no Japanese car,” Linwood said. “Daddy says that anybody who owns a foreign automobile is just taking food away from American workers.”

  “But driving a small car like a Toyota is better for the environment,” I said before Vasti could reply.

  “Shit! What’s that got to do with anything?” Linwood said. “What kind of car do you drive, Laurie Anne?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Can’t you and your husband afford a car?” Vasti asked with a look of horror.

  “Of course we could afford a car if we wanted one, but we don’t need a car in Boston,” I said. “We take the subway.”

  Linwood looked a little suspicious of the idea of not needing a car, but let it pass as Vasti broke in with a description of a new party gown.

  I sighed. I was already worn out from dealing with family, and this wasn’t even close to the full Burnette complement. All told there were five surviving sisters with four husbands, twelve grandchildren, two grand-sons-in-law, one granddaughter-in-law, and two great-grandchildren. I wasn’t sure how I could feel so lonely in the midst of such a crowd, but I did.

  The red-headed nurse came in and made her way to Aunt Nora. “Mr. Burnette can see visitors now,” she said, “but only two of you can go in, and just for ten minutes.”

  “I’ve already seen him,” I said reluctantly, hating to give up my chance, “so one of you go.”

  The three sisters looked at each other, no one wanting to speak.

  “Actually,” the nurse said, “As long as only two go in at a time and the total visit is ten minutes, several of you can see him.”

  There were smiles all around, and in quick succession Aunt Nora and Aunt Ruby Lee, Uncle Loman and Aunt Edna, and Sue and Linwood went into and came out of Paw’s room. “That’s all,” the nurse said firmly to the rest of us. “No more visits until four.”

  “Did he say anything?” I asked when we had reassembled, wondering if he had repeated what he had told me.

  “No,” Aunt Ruby Lee said, “but I think he knew we were there.”

  “He looked so old,” Aunt Edna said. “I never thought of Paw as old.”

  “I hate to see him like that,” Aunt Nora said. “He looks right pitiful in that hospital gown he’s in. I didn’t even think to bring him a pair of pajamas.”

  “If you want, I can run up to the house and get him a pair.” I had assumed that Richard and I would be staying at his house anyway, though it wouldn’t seem right without Paw there.

  “If Aunt Maggie will let you in,” Aunt Edna sniffed.

  “Aunt Maggie’s staying at Paw’s house to keep an eye on things,” Aunt Nora explained. “She’s got some idea that if she doesn’t, there won’t be anything left when Paw gets back.”

  For Aunt Magg
ie, that made sense, so I didn’t question it further. “Can someone give me a ride, or can I borrow someone’s car?”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t drive,” Linwood said.

  “I said I didn’t have a car,” I answered. “I do have a driver’s license.” I considered reminding him that I passed my driver’s test on the first go-round, compared to the three tries it had taken him, but decided that it would be beneath me.

  “Buddy and the boys have our cars,” Aunt Nora said. “Vasti?”

  “I would, Aunt Nora, but I’ve got to get home to get ready for tonight. Arthur and I are taking some clients out to dinner, and I have to do my hair and my nails, and I just don’t have a minute to spare.”

  “I’ll drive you over there, Laurie Anne,” Uncle Conrad said.

  “I thought you had to get back to work,” Aunt Ruby Lee said.

  “They can do without me for a little while longer,” Uncle Conrad said with a touch of bravado. “It’s the least I can do, considering. I want to make sure everything’s all right.”

  Uncle Loman said, “Edna, you take Ruby Lee home. Conrad can drop me off at the mill.”

  “I was going to stay with Nora for a while,” Aunt Edna said stiffly.

  “That’s fine with me,” Aunt Ruby Lee said quickly.

  Aunt Nora said. “Laurie Anne, why don’t you come eat dinner with us tonight? There’s probably nothing to eat at Paw’s house. Bring Aunt Maggie, too.”

  “Sounds great,” I said. Aunt Nora made the best biscuits I had ever eaten.

  Aunt Nora suggested some other items I could bring from the house, and after assuring everyone that I’d see them later, I followed Uncle Conrad and Uncle Loman down the stairs to the parking lot and Uncle Conrad’s pickup truck.

  Chapter 3

  Getting the three of us into the cab of the pickup truck was a tight squeeze and I was stuck in the middle, dodging elbows from both sides. None of us said anything for a while, and I felt a little awkward.

  I finally said, “I appreciate your taking me over to Paw’s, Uncle Conrad.”

  “That’s all right. I’m glad to help out,” he said.

  There were several more minutes of silence.

  “How are the kids doing?” I asked. Aunt Ruby Lee had three children, one from each of her previous marriages.

  “They’re fine.”

  Another period of silence. “What have you and Aunt Edna been up to, Uncle Loman?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in. I work for a living, and Edna spends all her time up at the church.”

  So much for a heart-to-heart talk. I snuck a look at my watch. It was not quite two, but it seemed like I had left Boston days ago instead of only hours. Paw’s being in the hospital didn’t seem real. And even though Aunt Nora had dismissed it, what he had said was still bothering me. “Had either of you seen Paw before his accident? Recently, I mean?”

  “How come?” Uncle Loman asked.

  “I was just wondering if he had been doing all right. I know his heart’s not too good, but aren’t there usually warning signs before a heart attack?”

  Uncle Loman shrugged. “I hadn’t seen him in a while.”

  “Me neither,” Uncle Conrad said. “I don’t think I’d seen or talked to Ellis in a couple of weeks. Maybe longer.” He patted my knee clumsily. “Don’t you worry, Laurie Anne. Ellis is going to be just fine.”

  “Don’t lie to the girl, Conrad,” Uncle Loman said. “She can see for herself that Ellis isn’t going to get out of that bed on his own.”

  “You don’t know that,” I objected.

  “I know he’s over seventy and he’s got a bad heart.”

  I stared at the road ahead, not saying anything. He was probably right.

  After a minute, Uncle Loman said, “Watch what you’re doing, Conrad. Here’s the turn for the mill.”

  As we bumped down Mill Road, I caught sight of Walters Mill itself. Rumor had it that Burt Walters had planned an office park, complete with hotels and restaurants, that would surround the mill. Walters had gotten as far as clearing the land around the mill when the slowdown of the textile market defeated his grandiose plans, leaving the mill, an inelegant building made of mud-brown bricks, standing alone in the midst of scraggly clumps of scrub pine.

  Uncle Conrad pulled up as far as the security booth, and Uncle Loman climbed out of the truck.

  “Are you coming to the hospital tonight, Loman?” Uncle Conrad asked.

  “I suppose so,” Uncle Loman said. “If he lasts that long. You’re coming back as soon as you leave her at the house, aren’t you?”

  “I thought I’d take a look around first. Make sure everything’s all right up there.”

  “I’m sure everything is all right, Conrad. You just get yourself back here. Your supervisor don’t owe me that many favors.”

  Uncle Loman shut the door without saying anything to me, and I immediately slid over and stretched out. I didn’t much miss Uncle Loman’s company. Maybe he was right about Paw and maybe he was just trying to be kind in his own way, but I wasn’t ready to hear Paw’s eulogy yet.

  “Do you really think Paw is going to make it?” I asked Uncle Conrad wistfully.

  “Shoot, I don’t know. Those doctors are real smart, but Ellis is pretty bad off. Your granddaddy is an old man and he’s had a full life. You can’t ask for more than that, can you?”

  “I guess not,” I said reluctantly. “It just seems so sudden. I know he has a bad heart, but he sounded fine the last time I spoke to him. I just wish that I could have been there with him when it happened.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have wanted to be with him at a time like that. You wouldn’t want to see that.”

  I noticed we were turning toward Highway 321, and I said, “Aren’t we going to take Rock Creek Road? You can turn onto that old tobacco road and it’ll take you right to Paw’s house. You know the way, don’t you?”

  “Oh, I know the way, but that road is in such foul shape I don’t take it anymore.”

  “It wasn’t that bad last time I was—” I started to say but Uncle Conrad blurted, “Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” He switched it on before I could answer, and the plaintive voice of George Jones mourning his lost love effectively forestalled further conversation.

  Oh well. If he wanted to take the long way around, that was his business, and I didn’t want to talk anymore anyway.

  Byerly looked the same as ever, I decided as we drove through town. There was a discount auto parts store where there had once been a full-service garage, and a couple more of the downtown stores had been boarded up as their customers took their business to the malls in Hickory, but that was about it.

  As we turned down toward Paw’s house, I caught sight of Mill Hill, covered with the shabby mill-houses where many of the people in Byerly still lived.

  Byerly had originally been a tobacco-growing town, one of several clustered around the larger city of Hickory. Then Big Bill Walters moved in and took over. He built Walters Mill, and lured the sons and daughters of farmers from all over the county to come work for him. Since Byerly had nowhere near enough houses for three shifts of workers, he followed the path of other mill owners and built rows and rows of identical cracker-box mill houses. They were cheap and drafty, but somehow most of them were still standing.

  When the North Carolina textile market started to go downhill, Walters sold off the mill houses to his workers. At a fat profit, of course. These days the houses showed some variations—different colored paint, siding on a couple, a deck or garage added on—but the family resemblance was still plain.

  The Burnettes had been in Byerly long before the advent of the mill, and Paw had repeatedly refused Walters’s offer of a mill house. Paw’s place, the Burnette home for five generations, was not fancy or even all that pretty, but it was sturdy in the way only a house that has been carefully tended to for several lifetimes can be.

  It had started out as a simple farmhouse but had been added to a
s the size of the family increased until now it rambled inefficiently over the lot, an architect’s nightmare with no two sections looking like they belonged to the same house.

  Uncle Conrad parked his truck in front of the house because there were already two cars in the driveway. One was Paw’s battered old station wagon. The second was a Dodge Caravan with one bumper sticker that said “I Brake for Yard Sales” and another that said “Flea Market Nut.” It had to be Aunt Maggie’s.

  Uncle Conrad and I were halfway to the front door when a salmon-pink Oldsmobile with a Mary Kay logo prominently displayed pulled up. A platinum blonde dressed in pink got out, and waved at us daintily.

  “Who’s that?” I asked in a low voice.

  “Beats me,” Uncle Conrad said.

  “Well, hello there!” she cooed as she came up the sidewalk. “How are you doing? I didn’t have any idea that there’d be anyone here. Can you two give me a hand?” She must have noticed our blank expressions, because she put her hands on her hips and chided me, “Don’t tell me you don’t remember your cousin Sally?”

  Sally? I climbed the family tree in my head to try to figure out the relationship. My grandmother had had three sisters, one of whom was Patsy. Wasn’t Patsy’s youngest granddaughter named Sally? Salley Hendon, that was it! The Mary Kay logo should have clued me in—she was the one who gave away cosmetic samples for Christmas presents.

  “Of course I remember you, Sally,” I said. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Is this handsome fellow your husband?” she asked, batting her eyes at Uncle Conrad.

  “No, this is Conrad Randolph, Aunt Ruby Lee’s husband.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to meet one of Ruby Lee’s husbands,” Sally said with a sweet smile, but fortunately the dig went right over Uncle Conrad’s head. “Well, what are we standing outside for?” Sally said, and walked past us, but the door opened before she could get to it.

  A short, stout woman in green rubber flip-flops, blue cotton shorts, and a T-shirt boldly emblazoned “Leave Me Alone!” scowled at us and snapped, “What do you want?”

  “Aunt Maggie?” I said hesitantly. Actually, as Paw’s younger sister, she was my great-aunt, but that was too much of a mouthful for every day.