When the Sun Goes Down

by Gwynne Forster

  Let it go, girl. How would Gunther know who your kind of man is? He probably doesn’t think of you in relation to men. She laid back her shoulders, put a smile on her face, and extended her hand.

  “I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Montgomery.”

  He seemed momentarily taken aback, but he let her know that he wasn’t easily flustered when he shook her hand as if handling a piece of wood. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Farrell. I’m glad to meet you. I’d been wondering which of your brothers you’d more nearly resemble in manners and behavior.”

  She bristled, and she knew he noticed it. “I love both of my brothers, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Love has nothing to do with it, and I’m sure you’re aware of that. I agreed to try and find that will. Edgar signed a contract with me, and for payment, I get six percent of his share. Those were the conditions that he offered, and after speaking with Gunther, I agreed to them. Edgar has an attitude toward Gunther that I find bothersome, but that’s between them. Another thing that bothers me is Edgar’s insistence that I report what I find only to him, although the will is the property of the three of you.

  “Your father’s attorney is positive that a will exists and that your father deliberately hid it. That doesn’t make sense to me, but I have to accept it. If I’m going to find that will, I’ll need the three of you to help me. Where did your father work?”

  “He closed his Baltimore office about ten years ago and converted one of the bedrooms in our house into an office. That’s a really big house, and I’d bet that when his will is finally located, it will be in that house.”

  “He could have buried it on the property.”

  “I doubt that, since he didn’t own a shovel. As stingy as he was, he paid a groundskeeper—a gardener or whatever you call them—to care for the property around the house. Father believed in hard work as long as it was confined to work with the brain.”

  “Not so. He began as a laborer at a milk company.”

  “I know, but he seemed uncomfortable with even the memory of those days. To my way of thinking, he could have had one of three reasons for doing such a strange thing: He wanted us to be remorseful that we hadn’t lived by his rules and complied with his demands; he wanted to shatter our relations with each other, because we cared more for our siblings than for him; or he wanted to force us to spend time, energy, and money to find the will. When I recall how mean and stingy he was—something I wouldn’t admit when he was alive—I think all of those apply.”

  “Why wouldn’t you admit it when he was alive?”

  “Simple. He was my father, and I was supposed to love him. If I’d acknowledged the facts, loving him would have been too hard.”

  He noted the waiter’s presence. “I’ll have New England chowder and a crab sandwich.” He looked at Shirley. “And you?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Did your brothers find loving him too difficult?”

  She leaned back in the chair and studied Carson. He was a shrewd and clever man. Opting for the truth, she leaned forward. “You must have guessed that Gunther is his own man. He sized up his relationship with Father and went his own way. Edgar pretended to care and hung around for what he could get. Father didn’t buy it, and Edgar got crumbs.”

  “That certainly puts things into proper perspective.” Their lunch arrived, and he changed his line of questioning. “Mind telling me where you went to school and what you studied?”

  “Not at all. I studied psychology and business administration at Morgan State University. I wanted to go to Harvard, and because I had the grades, I was admitted. But I had only an academic fellowship. The cost of living was more than I could afford, so I attended Morgan State and lived at home.”

  “And you weren’t bitter toward your father? He was a millionaire.”

  “He worked for his and we should work for ours. That was his philosophy.”

  “Damn. I may never find that will.”

  “If you don’t, I won’t cry about it. I’ve done well for myself with minimal help from my father, and I need him less now than ever.”

  His facial expression projected admiration, and she could see that she had his respect. “This soup is delicious,” she said. “By the way, where did you go to school?” What was good for the goose was good for the gander.

  He grinned, as if acknowledging what she’d thought. And did the brother ever have charisma! She tucked in her belly and told herself to focus not on him but on what he said.

  “I have a bachelor’s degree in criminology and a JD, both from Howard University. I’ve passed the national bar, and I’m a licensed private detective.”

  “Have you ever practiced law?”

  “I worked as an assistant DA when I first passed the bar, but the idea of getting a conviction without due regard for justice thoroughly disillusioned me. I found that I didn’t want to be a trial lawyer, either, and I didn’t want to teach. Detective work really suits me. Most of my contracts are with lawyers.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I could sit here with you indefinitely, but work is calling. When can we meet at your father’s house? My plan is to go over that place with each of you separately, and then I’ll search it alone.”

  “Tomorrow morning, if you like. Edgar will be in Atlantic City. Not to worry. Each of us has a key to the house.”

  He picked up the check, and they left the restaurant. “If you’re going back to Gunther’s place, I’ll drop you off.”

  As they got into his car, he said, “You were hesitant.”

  “Yes, I was. I’m a careful person, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “And well you should be. If you’re not driving, I’d be glad to come by for you tomorrow morning at nine-fifteen.”

  “In that case, I won’t have to inconvenience Gunther. I’ll be ready. Thank you.”

  She couldn’t wait to find out what Gunther really thought of Carson Montgomery. She knew what she thought, but with a man like that one, it was probably best not to trust your own judgment. Six feet three inches tall at least, with curly black hair; large, grayish brown eyes with curled lashes; and skin the color of shelled walnuts. If she were stupid, she’d have followed him wherever he was going. But she wasn’t stupid, and she had seen many men who were just as good-looking. But there was something about Carson Montgomery that set him apart. She had a hunch that she’d better not bother to find out what that was.

  Carson drove off shaking his head and trying to figure out what had happened during that lunch. Years had passed since he reacted to a woman as he did to Shirley Farrell. “Thank God I’m still human and my testosterone is still lively,” he said to himself. When he’d finally gotten a divorce settlement after years of pain and angst, he’d been certain that he never wanted to be near another woman. Hell had descended on him in stages: the last two years of living with Darnell, his ex-wife, and the following two years of divorce wrangling. In the end, he’d considered himself fortunate to have retained any semblance of sanity. “The mere thought of it is enough to straighten out my head,” he said aloud. “No more of that for me!”

  The following morning at nine-fifteen, he rang the doorbell of Gunther’s apartment and gaped. Shirley Farrell opened the door. Her hair hung girlishly in a long ponytail, and she wore a red T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her face bore not a speck of makeup, but big, round silver hoops swung from her ears.

  “For a minute I didn’t recognize you,” he said, thankful that he’d recovered his breath. “Ready?”

  She slung a hobo bag over her shoulder. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They drove in silence to the family home two miles beyond the Ellicott City line. He parked, turned, and looked at her. “I won’t succeed unless you and your brothers tell me every relevant thing that you know. This is a big house, and I’m looking for a piece of paper.” He considered himself an excellent judge of people, and he observed her closely until she blushed. He could see that he’d embarrassed her.

  “I�
�m sorry, Shirley. I hope you don’t mind me using your first name. I have a habit of studying people as carefully as possible. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Shall we go in?”

  She guided him room by room through the huge house. Each of the siblings had a room and bath, and the old man had reserved for himself what appeared to be a separate wing in which he could live without encountering any of his offspring.

  She answered his many questions, but he didn’t find anything that she said more helpful than what he already knew. “How did he spend his time after dinner?” he asked her.

  She appeared bemused. “I don’t know. I never saw much of him after dinner. He hated noise, so we never sat together talking, listening to music, or watching television.”

  “What did you give your father for Christmas ... after you got a job?”

  “I gave him a Montblanc pen, a sweater, an electric shaver, things like that.”

  It amazed him that she showed so much patience. “I want you to think back and try to remember everything you ever gave him. Not now, but later. What did he especially like?”

  “Animals. But he didn’t have pets.”

  He continued the questioning until noon. “I’m starved,” he said. “Suppose we get a sandwich or something, come back and search for an hour?”

  And so went their pattern for the next three days, but in the end he had nothing to show for it but a pile of notes that he recorded each day after leaving her.

  “You mean he still doesn’t have a clue?” Gunther asked her after she’d spent three days with Carson.

  “If he has, he’s keeping it to himself.”

  “For goodness’ sake, don’t say that to Edgar. He’ll jump all over Montgomery.”

  “You’re kidding. Nobody’s going to jump all over that man. Let’s eat out. I don’t feel like cooking, and you’re so tired, you literally flung yourself into that chair. You should have a housekeeper for this big place. Why don’t you?”

  “I thought several times that I’d do it, but Lissa said there wasn’t enough for a housekeeper to do here. So I got a weekly cleaning woman.”

  “Lissa knew a housekeeper would see straight through her and her tricks. Get a housekeeper.” She telephoned the secretary of the church to which she went on occasion. “Ms. Broadus, my brother needs a housekeeper, experienced and preferably over forty, not too motherly and not man hunting.”

  “I think I have just the person for him. She worked for a family for the past year, but the man lost his job and can’t any longer afford a housekeeper. She’s a good Christian woman, so she won’t be drinking and carrying on. You know what I mean.”

  She didn’t, but could guess. Shirley gave the woman Gunther’s address. “Ask her to come this afternoon, if possible.” She hung up and called to Gunther, “A woman is coming here this afternoon to interview for the job as your housekeeper. I got the contact from the church office.”

  “Thanks. I’d have procrastinated about that indefinitely. What do I know about hiring a housekeeper?”

  “You’ll learn this afternoon.”

  Gunther opened the door to Mirna Jordan, looked hard at her, and released a breath of relief. “Come in. I’m Gunther Farrell.”

  “My name’s Mirna Jordan, Mr. Farrell, and I’m here because I need a job.”

  A no-nonsense woman. He liked that. “Come in and have a seat.” He liked her face. She had an air of competence and self-possession. He went into the kitchen and got two glasses and the pitcher of sweetened ice tea that Shirley had placed there earlier, and joined her in the living room.

  “It’s hot outside,” he said, and poured a glass full and handed it to her. Then he poured a glass for himself and sat opposite her.

  “Thank you, sir. After that long walk I had, I was about to burn up.”

  “A bus stops about two blocks from here.”

  “I know, but every dollar’s important to me these days.”

  He leaned back, hoping to make her comfortable. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m a widow, Mr. Farrell, and I have one daughter who’s a junior at Spelman College in Atlanta. She lives with my sister and brother-in-law, but I’m paying her bills. I’m forty-eight. I worked on my last job up until last week, when the man lost his job. The company moved to somewhere in the Pacific, and he couldn’t move the family there because both his mother and his mother-in-law are very sick. Here’s the telephone number if you want a reference. It broke my heart to leave them, but you know life don’t promise you a thing.”

  She shook her head as if perplexed and continued speaking. “No, it sure don’t. I’m a good cook, and I can give you meat and potatoes, or I can cook a gourmet meal for twenty-five people. Just let me know what you like and what you don’t like, and I’ll keep you happy. If you want me to do the shopping, just give me a budget. I know how to run a house.”

  “I’ll check your references and—”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Farrell, but I don’t mind if you call them while I’m sitting here. I took care of that home and that family as if they were my own. They cried when I left.”

  He observed her closely for a minute. She needed the job, and she didn’t want to give him a chance to hire someone else. He dialed the number. “Hello. May I speak with Mrs. Parsons, please?

  “Mrs. Parsons, I’m Gunther Farrell, and I’m interviewing Mrs. Jordan for a job as my housekeeper. She says she kept house for you.”

  He listened while Mrs. Parsons extolled Mirna Jordan’s virtues as a housekeeper and as a woman and decided that he’d be lucky if the woman agreed to work for him. “Thank you, Mrs. Parsons. I appreciate this. Good-bye.”

  He hung up. “What do you say I show you my apartment? It’s much bigger than it looks from here. There’re three bedrooms and three baths upstairs, and a living room, dining room, den, kitchen, and lavatory on this floor. A balcony overlooks the garden, which I confess I don’t take the best care of.”

  As they walked through the rooms, she stopped and asked him, “Why did you need such a big apartment?”

  “Good question. I figured I should get one in which I could raise a family, when and if I get married.”

  “I don’t imagine you’re having any trouble getting married.”

  “Not really, because I haven’t tried. My sister is staying with me for a couple of weeks. She lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Do you smoke?”

  “Me? Smoke? No, siree.”

  “Good. I don’t want one puff of smoke in this apartment. I have an older brother, Edgar, who lives in the family home about two miles outside of the city. If you’re here alone and he attempts to muscle his way in, don’t open the door. He can be devious, unprincipled. No matter how much charm he exudes, do not let him in.”

  She looked at him as if sizing him up. “Is he jealous of you?”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Don’t you worry. I get the whole picture, and if you say a person’s not to come here, I won’t be the one to let ’em in. Not ever!”

  He called Shirley. “Come down for a few minutes. I want you to meet Mrs. Jordan.”

  Shirley ran down the stairs, walked over to Mirna Jordan, and shook her hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Jordan. You won’t see much of me, because I live in Florida, but I’m glad you’ll be here to take care of my big brother. I hope you’ll keep the fat and salt in his food low, because he doesn’t concern himself much with his health.”

  “You needn’t worry about that, miss, if I work here. I have to tell you, though, that he and I don’t have an agreement yet.”

  “Heavens,” Gunther said. “I forgot about that.” He quoted Mirna a salary and added, “You’ll have health insurance and, of course, sick and vacation leave.”

  Mirna stood up and sat back down. “You offering me the job? Lord, I can’t believe it. The pay is fine, sir. Well, you will definitely not regret it. I’m gonna keep this place like polished glass. Thank you, sir. When do you want me to start?”
>
  “Tomorrow. You get Sundays and Thursday afternoons off.”

  “I need to know how much I can spend for food and for dry cleaning each month. I’ll do the regular laundry. And let me know what time you eat breakfast and dinner.”

  They shook hands. After taking her address and social security number, he gave her a key. “See you in the morning. I’ll call a taxi for you.” He called the taxi, walked out with her, and paid the fare.

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked Shirley when he returned.

  “I think you’ve probably hit the jackpot. I got great vibes from her.”

  “So did I. How old do you think she is?”

  Shirley folded her arms and thought for a minute. “About fifty-five or sixty. She looks as if she’s had a hard life.”

  “Maybe. She’s a widow, and she said she’s forty-eight.”

  “What? It’s been my experience that black women don’t age fast, but she just didn’t act that young.”

  He jerked his shoulder in a shrug. “Who knows what she’s been through?”

  Mirna Jordan relaxed in the taxi and used the cell phone her previous employer gave her to call her friend. “May I please speak with Frieda Davis?”

  “Girl, you won’t believe this. I got a job. The Lord does provide. And this man gon’ pay me a hundred more a month than I was getting at Ms. Parsons’s. Plus, girl, there’s just him in his big three-bedroom apartment, and the man is sending me home in an air-conditioned taxi.”

  “I told you not to worry. All worry does for you is make you sick.”

  “Imagine me with health insurance, sick pay, and vacation time. I’m moving up to your class.”

  “People ought to pay their housekeepers decent wages,” Frieda said. “And it wouldn’t hurt people to pay us LPNs what we’re worth, either. I’m happy for you, Mirna. Talk to you later. I have a distressed patient to look after. Bye.”