“You have to admit that it sounds a little suspicious.”
Sydney shook her head. “No, I don’t. I’m telling the truth, I didn’t see Jay after that day in the garage. I didn’t talk to him, either.” She blinked and opened a quivering mouth. “Can you believe that he didn’t even call to apologize or to try to talk me into coming back to him?”
With the minutes on her lunch ticking away, Maggie didn’t have the time to act as Sydney’s cheerleader. If she wanted to track down Gina, she needed to get a move on. “Sydney, I’m going to ask you one more time, is there anything else you’re not telling me? Was there anything else going on in Jay’s life?”
Sydney looked at her nail polish in a manner that suggested Maggie’s presence no longer held her interest. Maggie collected her belongings and was in the process of standing when Sydney shifted in her chair and said, “This is probably nothing, but he did complain about one of the customers at the butcher shop. I remember it because he told me about it the night before I caught him with Gina. I don’t remember if he said why he was upset, though. I really wasn’t paying attention. I was worrying about the test I took the next day. The one I told you about.” Sydney pulled the strings to the hoodie until they would no longer move. “I guess that was the last real conversation we had, and I can’t even remember all of it.”
Maggie remained in that awkward purgatory between standing and sitting. “About this man at the butcher shop, do you remember a name?”
Sydney nodded. “It was initials.”
“You mean like J.R.?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that was it. I don’t remember what they were, though. I just remember the guy didn’t have a name. He had initials.”
As she made her way to Gina’s office, it occurred to Maggie that Gina might be out to lunch. She couldn’t very well leave a message explaining why she needed to talk to her, but she couldn’t wait for her, either. She had an interview across the county with a woman who had framed more than one hundred jigsaw puzzles and she would need to leave campus within fifteen minutes to make her appointment. By the time she approached the office, she hadn’t made a contingency plan, but fortunately, she didn’t need one. Gina stood beside a filing cabinet, wearing a name tag and bearing a wry smile.
“Hey, there,” Gina said, “can I help you?”
With Sydney’s description fresh in her mind, Maggie quickly sized up Gina. Although she carried more weight than the super skinny Sydney, who Maggie feared would snap into two pieces if she bent over, Maggie thought it absurd to characterize Gina as fat. A little chubby? Maybe. But not fat. She blamed Sydney’s reference to Gina, who did indeed look to be in her mid-thirties, as old on the folly of youth.
After Maggie introduced herself, Gina told her she recognized her photo from the Sentinel and added, “I’m sorry. The dean is out of the office this afternoon. How about you make an – ”
“I’m not here to see the dean. May I sit down? Thank you. I’m here to talk to you.”
“Me? Why would a reporter want to talk to me?”
Since she didn’t have time for niceties, Maggie cut to the chase. “I’m not here on newspaper business. This is about Jay Harris. His grandpa has asked me to help find him.”
Gina, who had relaxed into the chair behind her desk, smiled. “You’ve talked to Sydney. I can only imagine what she told you.”
“Well, what can you tell me? About Jay?”
“Not much. It was just, you know, physical.”
“How did you meet?”
“Here, in the office. He would come in and talk to Sydney. That’s how I got to know him. He was a friendly guy and, when he came to see Sydney, he’d talk to me and the dean, too. Then, he started texting me. He got my number from Sydney’s phone. My husband had just left me and I appreciated the attention, especially from a younger boy.” Gina picked up a blue folder from her desk and immediately set it down. “You know, I went to school here. I was a work study in this very office. When I graduated, I took a part-time job in another department, but transferred here as soon as this job came open. I have spent half my life with this institution. The students stay the same age, but I keep getting older.”
Maggie included Gina’s philosophy in her notes so she could appreciate it when she had more time. “How long were you and Jay, um, uh …”
Gina giggled. It was an open, childish laugh that gave Maggie a glimpse of the outgoing personality that had most likely attracted Jay to an older woman. “Almost three months. It started at Valentine’s Day. I remember because Jay told me Happy Valentine’s Day in the first text he sent me. It ended when he, I don’t know, I guess you could say it ended when he disappeared.”
“What about your husband?”
“What about him?” When Gina spoke, Maggie detected an edge to her voice.
“Did he know about you and Jay?”
“It’s none of his business.”
Maggie stared at Gina. “He might think differently.”
“Look, we had split up because he took up with my cousin, who happened to live next door. He moved in with her and I had to see them together every day. My kids had to see them together every day. She even brought him to family get-togethers. He has no room to talk when it comes to messing around with other people. I only took him back for the kids and because he literally crawled on his knees and begged for my forgiveness.”
Maggie had a hard time imaging a grown man crawling and wondered if this represented one of those cases when the speaker misused the word literally. “You didn’t answer my question. Did he know about you and Jay?”
“No.”
“How can you be so sure? How do you know he didn’t catch you together? If Sydney saw you, other people could have.”
Gina giggled, which turned into full-throttle laughter and then a coughing fit. As Gina gulped water, Maggie checked the time. She didn’t want to spend the remaining minutes of her lunch watching someone drink water. “What’s so funny?”
“Sydney threw such a tantrum that day in the parking garage.” Gina coughed and added, “She threatened to expose us. That’s the word she used. Expose. She told Jay she’d tell everyone he was with an old fattie and told me she’d tell my husband and my boss. We told her to go ahead and do it. Jay didn’t want her going to his pappaw, but otherwise, he didn’t care. Neither did I. Like I said, my husband has no room to judge and I’m not a professor. There’s no rule against me seeing a student. And the semester was almost over, so it’s not like Sydney and I would have to see each other much. But she came storming in here the next morning, demanding to talk to the dean. Get this straight, I did not care what she said, but I did point out to her that it might not look too good for her if people found out her boyfriend had hooked up with, in her words, an old fattie like me. So, of course, she didn’t say a word to anybody. As far as I know, you’re the only person she’s told. And she certainly doesn’t want anybody to learn the truth now. She’s having too much fun playing the role of Jay’s widow.”
Maggie wasn’t sure she believed Gina didn’t care if Sydney revealed her affair with Jay, but she admired the way she had played on Sydney’s youthful vanity. “You used the word ‘widow.’ Does that mean you think Jay is dead?”
Gina picked up the blue folder again and just as quickly put it down. “I don’t know. Jay and I weren’t close, but when somebody you know just vanishes, it affects you. You can’t help but think about it. I’ve thought of everything. I’ve imagined that he was kidnapped or killed by some crazy drifter who wanted his truck or that he was out in the hills and fell down an abandoned mining shaft. I know his pappaw says he went to work that day, but who knows where he went? Sometimes I think he just got in his truck and kept driving.”
“Is there anything about his life that makes you think he wanted to leave? Or that he was marked by somebody? Did he talk about enemies or worries or a man with initials? Or –”
Gina interrupted Maggie. “You can stop with the questions bec
ause I can’t answer them. Except for the small talk we made when he visited Sydney, Jay and I didn’t exactly talk much.”
Chapter Twelve
“Where was this preacher ordained?” Edie whispered into Maggie’s ear.
Edie had been harassing Maggie with such questions since the moment the services for Seth’s mom had started. If she didn’t quit, Maggie feared Lena would pinch both of them. That’s the punishment her mom had doled out when Maggie misbehaved in church as a child and Maggie knew she wouldn’t hesitate to dispense the same discipline today. She had already shot stern looks toward Maggie and Edie, but no matter how many times Maggie shushed her friend, she kept firing the questions.
“Preachers at this church aren’t ordained,” she answered in a whisper of her own. “One day, the spirit hits them and they start preaching.”
Edie tilted her head and rolled her eyes toward Maggie. “If that’s the case, I wish he’d lose the spirit. He said he wouldn’t take much of our time, but he’s been carrying on for fifteen minutes. I don’t know why he needs to yell or why he holds one of his ears and makes that little hiccup sound. And what is he saying anyway?”
“He’s saying, ‘My brother today,’” Maggie explained.
“Why is he saying that? Is it a message to his brother?” Edie scanned the congregation for the preacher’s potential brother. “Is his brother here?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much longer is he going to keep doing this?”
“For as long as he feels the spirit.” Maggie could feel Lena’s eyes boring into the side of her head. “Just be quiet and be patient. They’ll sing him down in a little while.”
Sure enough, within minutes, a baritone slowly started lining “Just One Rose Will Do.” When the congregation joined in, Edie whispered, “Remind me again, why do they say the words before they sing?”
“It’s called lining. It’s a custom. I imagine it either started because the church couldn’t afford enough hymnals for everyone or because not everyone could read.”
That explanation seemed to please Edie, who craned her head to look around the little church house. “I know this isn’t a fancy church, but if they can afford ceiling fans, they can afford hymnals. And don’t tell me they’re all illiterate. There’s no longer a reason for this lining. If they cut that out, they could sing more songs or shorten the services.”
“You’re as bad as Tyler,” Maggie chastised her friend. “He said people in eastern Kentucky are obsessed with death, so I spent twenty minutes explaining to him why we hold two evenings of church services as well as a funeral.”
“Why do we do that?” Edie asked.
Before Maggie could answer, Lena leaned over her daughter, causing her to flinch and cover her legs and arms with her coat. “If you girls don’t hush,” Lena said, “I’m going to take you to the bathroom and have a talk with you.”
Maggie didn’t need to spell out the seriousness of the threat to Edie, who nodded at Lena and stayed silent for the remainder of the services. But as soon as the closing prayer concluded, Edie resumed her chatter. “I know it’s been a few years so my memory could have faded, but the preaching seemed a little different from when your grandparents died.”
“It was. Mommaw and Poppaw were Primitive Baptists. This was an Old Regular Baptist service.”
“What’s the difference?”
As far as Maggie was concerned, theology class was over, so she said, “Ask a preacher.”
Maggie had spoken to Seth’s dad and sisters before services began, but hadn’t gotten the chance to offer her condolences to Seth. She had planned to seek him out after church, but a crowd surrounded him as soon as services ended. She decided to sit and wait until the crowd thinned, but changed her mind when Robert, who sat on the other side of Lena, suggested they go to the kitchen for coffee and snacks.
When she walked into the dining room, Maggie expected to be overwhelmed by fluorescent lighting, loud voices, and cigarette smoke. Her eyes adjusted to the bright lights and her ears to the sounds of voices bouncing off the block walls, but there was no smoke to be smelled. That’s right, she thought to herself, even church dining rooms have gone smoke-free. They made their way to the kitchen where Maggie decided on a bottled water and a slice of angel food cake while Edie and Robert opted for sandwiches. When they found a table in the dining room that yielded four seats together, Edie asked Lena why she hadn’t selected anything to eat.
“I don’t eat after people unless I know who made the food,” Lena said. “What if they didn’t wash their hands before cooking? What if they allow cats and dogs on their countertops?”
“Well, you’re drinking coffee and, for all you know, a cat lover with dirty hands could have brewed that pot.”
Knowing Edie’s attempt at logic would only make matters worse, Maggie kicked her friend from under the table. Edie met her eyes, mouthed “Gotcha,” and devoured her sandwich.
“I don’t know if the person who made this combination sandwich washed her hands or has cats,” Robert mused, “but it sure is good. Ain’t it, Edie?”
“It sure is,” Edie agreed. “It’s about the best funeral sandwich I’ve ever had. Why didn’t you get one, Maggie?”
Maggie had never cared for the sandwich spread, a combination of bologna, lunchmeat, cheese, pickles, and mayonnaise that, depending on the speaker, was known as combination, baloney salad, or funeral salad. Although Maggie had known Edie for years, it surprised her to see her friend enjoying the sandwich. Remembering that Edie, a non-practicing Methodist, had once declared that all Baptists were the same, Maggie said, “Where have you encountered combination? Don’t tell me they serve it at Methodist funerals.”
“Don’t be such a snob, Maggie. Every denomination eats funeral salad. It’s about the only thing we all have in common.”
The mention of denominations apparently re-ignited Edie’s curiosity and as her friend quizzed Robert and Lena on the tenets of the Old Regular and Primitive Baptist faiths, Maggie’s mind wandered to her conversations with Sydney and Gina. She had asked around about Sydney’s mysterious initialed man but, without knowing at least one of the letters that comprised his name, her search had proven fruitless. She considered the possibility of returning to the butcher shop and asking Curtis Moore about him, but didn’t want to do so until she had more to go on. Besides, she was beginning to doubt the existence of this man with initials for a name. It all seemed too convenient for Maggie. It was as if Sydney had invented him on the spur of the moment to deflect suspicion from herself. Maggie had watched enough programs on Investigation Discovery to know that women as young and as tiny as Sydney were capable of murder. The same thoughts crossed her mind in regards to Gina. Sydney said Jay hadn’t tried to win her back, but what if he had planned to do so? Gina could be playing down their relationship. She could have developed feelings for him. If he intended to toss her aside for the younger woman, she could have snapped and killed him. Then again, what if Maggie’s original accusation toward Gina were true? Her husband could have learned of his wife’s affair with Jay and gotten rid of his romantic rival. Maggie didn’t know how to handle that situation, though. Gina said her husband knew about her extracurricular activities, but if that were a lie, Maggie didn’t want to be the one to break the news of his wife’s infidelity to him.
Maggie suddenly saw Edie’s well-manicured hand wave in front of her face. “Hello, Maggie, is anyone in there?” As so often happened when caught lost in her own world, Maggie’s face flushed. “You’re missing a fascinating story,” Edie said. “Your mom just told us that when she was a young girl, she attended a funeral on a porch. A porch. Can you imagine that? I know they used to have some services at homes, but I never imagined having one on a porch. What time of year was it, Lena?”
“It was a lovely spring day. When the preachers took a break, you could hear the birds chirping.”
“I’ll bet that was so peaceful. I’m going to tell Ben I want birds at my f
uneral,” Edie said. She paused, squinted her eyes in thought, and asked Lena, “Did they take the coffin in at night or did they sit up with him outside?”
Sitting up with the dead brought Maggie back to the reason they were at the church. While Lena searched her memory for the answer to Edie’s question, Maggie suggested they return to the chapel and talk to Seth.
They found him chatting with two old-timers who Maggie supposed were not-so-distant relatives. When one of them noticed Maggie and the others standing nearby, they wrapped up their conversation, shaking Robert’s hand as they went by. Edie and Lena walked to Seth and hugged him and Robert shook his hand, but when it came Maggie’s turn to approach him, she kept her hands to her side and he put his in his pockets.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Maggie said to Seth. “She was a wonderful woman. What happened? I know she had been sick last year, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
Maggie, her parents, and Edie listened as Seth shared how his mother’s deteriorating health had led to her eventual death. They offered words of support and he walked with them to view a collage of photos of his mother. He explained the story behind every picture and, when he reached the final photo, Maggie realized Robert, Lena, and Edie had wandered away. But she stood frozen in the spot, reflecting on the woman who could have been her mother-in-law.
“I’m sorry, Seth. I should have visited or called her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Maggie. She wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. Besides, who’s to say I’d go see Lena if she got sick.”
Maggie looked directly into Seth’s green eyes, reddened with grief and lack of sleep. “You would. I know you would.”
Seth popped his neck. “So, what’s going on with you?” His crooked grin emerged on his weary face. “You investigating anything?”
Maggie bit the inside of her lip. She had promised Luke she wouldn’t seek Seth’s help, but that was before she had learned of Seth’s involvement in the investigation into Jay’s disappearance. She knew breaking her promise would constitute lying and she was unsure of the appropriateness of discussing such matters at a funeral service, but Seth was standing in front of her. She couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
Murder on Calf Lick Fork Page 6
