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JU03 - Miss Julia Throws a Wedding

Page 10

by Ann B. Ross


  “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

  “I mean it’s not there!” His eyes were almost as big as his glasses. “I left it on the backseat like you told me to, and it’s not there! It’s not anywhere in the car or around it! I looked all over and it’s not there!”

  “Well, this is a pretty come off,” I said, holding Little Lloyd’s hand so he’d stop waving it in my face. “It’s of a size you could hardly miss. Sam, who in the world’d come along and take a box the likes of that one out of my car? In broad daylight, too?”

  “I bet I know who, Miss Julia,” Little Lloyd said, still hardly able to get his breath. “I bet it was that ole Dixon Hightower, don’t you?”

  Chapter 13

  “Lillian!” I called as soon as I stepped into the house. Little Lloyd and I had jumped out of the car and scooted across the yard as quickly as we could in case Dixon was hot on our trail. Not that I was scared or anything, but the boy was. Besides, having something stolen right in front of your eyes can make you a little jumpy. We were both breathless by the time I got the door locked behind us.

  “Lillian,” I said, as she turned from the refrigerator holding several eggs in her hands. “Have you heard from Coleman?”

  “No’m. Why? What’s the matter?”

  “What’s the matter! I’ll tell you what’s the matter. It’s that Dixon Hightower who stole a box of Emma Sue Ledbetter’s political views right out of the backseat of my car. Where’s Hazel Marie?”

  “She takin’ a bath. Mr. Pickens, he fin’lly call an’ say it be a while ’fore he move her out, but he might have a minute to come by later on. And the upholstery man come an’ he moved ever’ stick of the livin’ room furniture out. I been dust moppin’ ever since. But how you know it was Dixon that got in yo’ car? An’ what that stuff you say he take? Little Lloyd, that bad ole man didn’t hurt you none, did he?”

  “No’m,” the boy said. “We didn’t even see him. But it had to be him; nobody else’d do such a thing. Miss Julia was going to give those tracts and bumper stickers back to Mrs. Ledbetter and now she can’t. And I bet we’ll all be on the prayer chain now.” He put a hand on his stomach, which always acted up on him when he got worried.

  Lillian frowned. “What you say?”

  “I’ll explain later, Lillian. Right now I’ve got to report this,” I said, my nerves strumming from our close encounter with the thieving rascal. Dixon didn’t really scare me, but he made me mad enough to wring his neck. “Sam’s not convinced it was him, but I am and I’m not going to put up with it.”

  Hazel Marie walked in then, all freshly bathed, dressed and hot-rollered. “Not going to put up with what?”

  So Little Lloyd told our tale in detail, and Lillian and Hazel Marie were suitably impressed with our narrow escape.

  “Law!” Lillian said. “That ole Dixon gettin’ bold as brass.”

  “Well,” I said, having had time to think a little more clearly. “We don’t know for sure that it was Dixon. But whoever it was, I’m just glad that I didn’t send Little Lloyd to the car just as somebody was in the process of stealing that box. You’ve got to stay within our eyesight from now on, Little Lloyd.”

  “Oh, baby,” Hazel Marie said, putting her arms around him. “I don’t want you to take any more chances. Miss Julia, do you think he knew it was your car?”

  “I have no idea. It could’ve been anybody’s, as far as I know. On the other hand, Sam had every window in his house open, so who knows who was sneaking around, listening to every word we said? I’ve got to report this.”

  I went to the phone and dialed the sheriff’s department, which gave me no satisfaction at all. First of all, Coleman was on patrol and unavailable for a personal call and, second of all, Lieutenant Peavey, the only other deputy I could think to ask for, was in the same condition.

  “Well, I have to speak to somebody,” I told the man who’d answered the phone. “I have reason to think that I know where Dixon Hightower is, or was not thirty minutes ago.”

  He perked up at that. “You’ve had a sighting?”

  I paused and looked down at the receiver. Then I said, “I’m not reporting a UFO here. However, we just missed seeing some little sneak. I’m pretty sure it was him because something was stolen from my car, a box that was on the backseat, and we’d just walked in to tell Mr. Sam Murdoch what was in the box, which shouldn’t’ve been coming from the church, much less the preacher’s wife. And I think you’d agree with me on that. Sam certainly did.”

  “Uh, ma’am, would you run that by me again?”

  “It’s perfectly plain. A box was stolen from my car, which was parked in view of the whole world in Sam Murdoch’s driveway, and absolutely nobody would want the thing, considering what was in it. So I’m thinking it had to be Dixon. I mean, who else in town would steal something not worth stealing?”

  He sighed, then said, “Give me your name and address, and the address where the perpetrator is alleged to be.”

  I did, and hung up, somewhat uninspired by the deputy’s response to a clear lead toward the most wanted man in Abbot County.

  “Well,” I said, “I’ve done all I can do. It’s in their hands now, unless I get mine on Dixon. Imagine stealing something from me, who’s always done the best I could for him.”

  “He crazy, Miss Julia,” Lillian said. “He don’t half know what he do.”

  “That’s no excuse as far as I’m concerned. When he steals from me and puts Little Lloyd in danger, he’s going to have to suffer the consequences.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Hazel Marie said, but the ringing of the doorbell diverted her attention. “Oh, that’s J.D.!”

  She hurried out, with Little Lloyd and me right behind her, in case it wasn’t. I stopped in the dining room, watching as she swung open the front door, her face glowing with expectation. Before she could say a word, Mr. Pickens stepped inside and wrapped her in his arms and gave her a kiss that would’ve made me throw caution to the winds. As Hazel Marie’s response clearly showed she’d already done.

  My goodness, some men had a way with them. It wasn’t the way he kissed her that affected me so much, but the way he held her—like he was holding something precious that would just kill him if he lost it. I’d never seen anything like it, or been the object of it, either.

  Being reassured that Hazel Marie was in safe hands, or arms, I motioned to Little Lloyd to follow me back to the kitchen.

  “Miss Julia,” Little Lloyd said as the door swung to behind us. “You reckon we could ask Mr. Pickens to move in with us for a while?”

  “Why, whatever for?” I could picture myself sitting up half the night listening for footsteps between bedrooms.

  “So Dixon won’t come stealing something again. I’d sure feel better if Mr. Pickens was with us.”

  “Me, too,” Lillian said. She stood by the sink wringing out a dishcloth that didn’t need it.

  “You two, you’re getting all worked up over something that’s not going to happen. All right, I know,” I said, holding up my hands to ward off their responses to that. “I know that Dixon was the one who probably took that box from my car, but let’s face it. He did us a favor, now that I think about it, since I was trying to get rid of it anyway. But he’s not going to come here to the house. There’re too many people in and out all the time and, if he’s still around, which I doubt very much, he’s not going to risk some of us seeing him and calling the sheriff. So the two of you need to stop worrying about it.”

  “Yessum,” Little Lloyd said. “I’ll try.”

  “Run on and play then.” As he left, I walked over to the sink and took a glass down from a cabinet. Turning on the faucet to fill it, I whispered to Lillian, “Lillian, we don’t need to be making this worse than it is. You know how that child can make himself sick with worry over practically nothing. Which, I’m convinced, Dixon certainly is.”

  “That easy for you to say,” she told me, frowning her disagreement. “Don’t nothin’ ev
er scare you, but me, I done seen too much not to know what some peoples can do.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “I know, Lillian, but I really don’t think he’s going to come around here. He’s probably got a hideout up in the woods somewhere, a long way from here. All I’m saying is that we need to keep our heads and not agitate Little Lloyd any more than he already is.”

  She grunted and turned away. “Jus’ look like to me we ought to be takin’ some of them measures, like Coleman tell us to. Not jus’ set around an’ say Dixon not gonna bother us.”

  “Well, that’s fine,” I said. “If you want to take a few measures, it’s all right with me. Maybe it’d cut down on the child’s worrying if he knew Dixon couldn’t get in. Just don’t lock me out of my own house if I walk out in the yard.”

  She turned back to me, relief obvious on her face. “You mind if I spend the night? Me an’ Little Lloyd got lots to do to make us feel safe.”

  “Of course, spend as many nights as you want to. I’m sure having you around would relieve his mind as much as anything.”

  “Do it matter what we do? I mean, some of them window locks not too sturdy. We might need to put a stick of wood in the windows to keep ’em from bein’ pushed up.”

  “I don’t care what you do. In fact, I think it’s a good idea to keep the child’s mind occupied and his hands busy. If he’s doing something, he won’t have time to worry.

  “And speaking of that,” I went on, putting down my glass. “There’s something worrying me, and I need to do something about it. I can’t let this business with Dixon, or whoever, put it on the back burner.”

  “What you up to now?”

  “Oh, Lillian, you won’t believe what Emma Sue Ledbetter expected Little Lloyd and me to do.” And I told her of the child’s home mission project. “Can you see us doing that?”

  “Well, no’m, I can’t see you doin’ it, but they’s people out there think mission work a good thing.”

  “I know that,” I said tartly, working up a head of steam. “But there’s mission work, and then there’s mission work. But each of us is called to what we’re suited for and, believe me, I am not suited for squatting behind a car and gluing on a bumper sticker. And that’s what I’m going to tell Emma Sue Ledbetter.”

  I rubbed my hands down the side of my dress, dreading the coming minutes. Reaching for the telephone, I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. I declare, you have to walk a thin line when you need to tell somebody off, yet do it without making an enemy for life. Especially when it’s the preacher’s wife you’re dealing with.

  When she answered her phone with a questioning “Hello?”, I went straight to the point. “Emma Sue, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but Little Lloyd can’t go door-to-door or do any pasting, either.”

  “Julia?”

  “Of course, it’s Julia,” I said, determined to get said what needed to be said. “Now, Emma Sue, don’t get upset, but what you’ve asked that child, and me, to do is entirely unacceptable. In fact, I’m surprised that you’d even consider me for such an activity.”

  “Oh, Julia,” she said, somewhat wetly. “I thought you’d be glad to help. I know you’ve been having trouble with your own prayer life, and witnessing to others about the power of prayer would strengthen you spiritually.”

  I bit my lip to keep from letting her have it. Then, with a mighty effort to soften my tone, I said, “Emma Sue, I appreciate your concern for my spiritual health, but right now I have too much to do to worry with it. I’m just letting you know that you’ll have to get somebody else for your home missions. Or, even better, come up with another project since we Presbyterians generally keep a low profile when it comes to accosting people in their homes or crawling around cars parked on the street.”

  “Oh, Julia,” she said again, along with a few sniffs and swallows. “Excuse me. Let me get a Kleenex.” When she came back to the phone, she went on. “I can’t help but be disappointed. I thought you’d be so good at this and, Julia, you know we must share our faith with others. It’s incumbent upon us.”

  “I share plenty every time they pass the collection plate,” I reminded her. “Don’t think I don’t.”

  “I know you do,” she whimpered. “But, Julia, there’s so much work to be done, and nobody wants to do it. Well”—she sniffed loudly—“I guess if you won’t do it, I’ll have to take it on myself. Although you wouldn’t believe how many times this sort of thing happens.”

  I probably would, but I didn’t tell her that. As long as she came up with such outrageous ideas, people were going to scatter every time they saw her.

  She blew her nose, then said, “Well, Julia, I wish you’d reconsider, but if you won’t, there’s nothing I can say to change your mind. Except pray for you, as I always do. Just drop off the tracts and bumper stickers at the church, and I’ll get them as soon as I can. I’ll just have to do the best I can with them.”

  Oh, Lord, how was I going to drop off something I no longer had? My head started spinning trying to think how to explain the situation, considering the state of sorrow I’d already put her in.

  “Uh, Emma Sue,” I said. “We may have a little problem with that. We’re so busy; the wedding, you know. I’ll get them to you just as soon as I possibly can. And, speaking of the wedding, I’m so glad you’re coming. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” And I kept her on that track for as long as I could, turning her mind away from prayer tracts and bumper stickers, as well as their current unknown whereabouts.

  When I finally got off the phone, I turned to Lillian, who was standing there, shaking her head.

  “Don’t say a word, Lillian,” I said. “Not one word.”

  Chapter 14

  After a light supper, during which Lillian and Little Lloyd discussed their burglarproofing strategies and Hazel Marie ate in the semi-dream state Mr. Pickens had left her in, I realized that I had had enough for the day. Dealing with both Emma Sue and Dixon in one day had left me as limp as a dishrag.

  “I’m going to excuse myself and go to bed,” I said, laying my napkin by my plate and rising from the chair.

  Hazel Marie looked at me sharply, and Lillian said, “It not even dark yet. You gettin’ sick or something?”

  “Not at all. I’m just tired. This would’ve been a busy day even without having to put up with Emma Sue Ledbetter. That woman just saps my strength. And tomorrow’ll be busier, so I’m going to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “You sure you’re all right?” Hazel Marie’s look of concern as she started out of her chair gave me a great deal of comfort. “You want me to get you some aspirin?”

  “No, really. I’m not sick, just tired. Don’t worry about me; I’m just going to crawl in and put this day behind me.” It was all I could do to keep from yawning in their faces.

  “If you’re sure then,” Hazel Marie said, sitting back down. “I’ll be sleeping upstairs with Little Lloyd so he won’t be scared, so if you need anything during the night, I’ll be right across the hall.”

  “An’ I’ll be right next door to you,” Lillian said. “You ’ member I’m gonna spend the night.”

  “Yes, thank you both, but I won’t need anything. I plan to sleep at least ten hours and get up in the morning ready to get this wedding in high gear.”

  And off I went, climbing the stairs slowly and stiffly. A good long night’s sleep every once in a while did me a world of good, and I looked forward to closing my door and my mind on all the things yet to do.

  After preparing for bed and taking a last look at my lists, I drew the curtains and crawled under the covers. For a little while, I could hear the murmur of their voices downstairs and of the television turned down low. None of it bothered me; in fact, it was soothing to know that the people closest to me were safe inside my house, and there if I needed them.

  Later, when the room was completely dark, I roused enough to hear the shuffle of feet in the hall outside my door and a few whispers as the three of them ca
me upstairs to go to bed. I smiled to myself, knowing that they were trying to be quiet for my sake. Then, as the house settled into the quiet of sleep, I drifted off again.

  Sometime way up in the morning, I sat straight up, a noise like the end of the world jerking me out of a sound sleep. With my heart thudding like a drum, I jumped out of bed, as a crashing and banging and yelling and cursing echoed throughout the house.

  “My Lord!” I said, trembling so bad that I almost stumbled over my gown as I ran for the door.

  Little Lloyd, his hair standing straight up and his eyes bulging out of his head, opened his door at the same time and we stared at each other across the dark hall.

  “It’s Dixon!” he yelled. “Help! It’s Dixon!”

  Hazel Marie grabbed him from behind and I turned, only to run smack into Lillian, who’d dashed into the hall from her room. I screamed and she screamed. Then Hazel Marie shrieked like a banshee, while Little Lloyd jittered around, yelling, “It’s Dixon! It’s Dixon!”

  Lillian and I clasped each other, both of us trembling as more clashing and banging came from the stairwell.

  “Do something, Lillian,” I gasped. “Somebody’s breaking in.”

  “I got this here arn skillet,” she whispered hoarsely. “Le’s go get him.” She raised the heavy iron pan, which she’d apparently slept with, and we crept to the head of the stairs.

  The racket Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd were making almost drowned out the blue streak of curses coming from the foot of the stairs. In between the fearsome swearwords, the clashing and banging continued unabated.

  “The light,” I whispered, reaching for the switch.

  “No!” Lillian whispered back, grabbing my arm. “Le’s sneak up on him.”

  “Lord, Lillian, it’s dark down there.”

  Across the hall, Little Lloyd was dancing up and down, his arms flailing, as he screamed, “Call the sheriff! Call the sheriff!”

 

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