by Kate Bell
“Here we are,” Mrs. Beale said, bringing in a tray with a teapot, cups, and sugar and creamer.
“Oh, I was just admiring your wedding picture. You both looked so happy,” I said, turning toward her.
She set the tray down on the coffee table. “Oh, thank you. We certainly were. My poor Harold died of pneumonia when Sadie was two. It was a shame. Sadie never really got to know him.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” I said, feeling a twinge of guilt for not being kinder to Sadie. We had been such fierce competitors that I never took the time to get to know her.
“Please, help yourselves,” she said, motioning toward the tray.
I sat down and Alec and I made ourselves a cup of tea.
“Did they find the murderer? I heard it was a murder,” Mrs. Beale said as she poured a cup of tea.
“We’re still investigating,” Alec said. “That’s why we’re here.”
A look of fear crossed Mrs. Beale’s face. “What?” she asked.
“Oh, no, I mean I just wanted to ask you some questions. We’re still looking for whoever did this,” Alec reassured her. “I know you said you liked to go over to his house to play Uno once a week, but can you expand on the nature of your relationship?”
Mrs. Beale blushed and looked down at her tea, then slowly took a sip.
“I don’t mean to embarrass you, Mrs. Beale,” Alec said, then glanced at me. Way to make her clam up, I thought.
“Well, really, we were just friends. Like I told you before, I went over to supper once a week and we played card games. Tom wasn’t really interested in a relationship,” she said. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “I don’t know why he didn’t want a relationship. Don’t most people want that?”
I felt bad. For generations womankind has been getting the run around in their relationships. Mrs. Beale’s generation was no exception.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Beale,” Alec said. “So you were just friends with Tom?”
She nodded. “That’s all.”
“I see,” Alec said, making a note in his notebook. “Tell me, Mrs. Beale, do you know if anyone was angry with Tom?”
Mrs. Beale smiled, stirring her tea. “Well, I can’t think of anyone off hand. Tom was a friend to everyone. Well, almost everyone.”
“Oh?” I asked when she didn’t immediately continue.
“Well, I don’t mean to gossip, but Ida Crawford didn’t like Tom. I saw her in the grocery store about a month ago, and she was upset with him,” she said, still stirring her tea and nodding her gray head.
“What for?” I asked, trying not to look at Alec.
“She thought he had feelings for her, but when he told her he didn’t, she screamed at him. She told him he had been leading her on. Called him a cad.”
I did glance sideways at Alec then. Name calling was never a good sign. That was two strikes against Ida. We needed to talk to her.
“I can see where someone who feels like their feelings have been trifled with can feel like they are being used, but it’s rarely cause for murder,” Alec said, being sane and sensible again.
“Well, you don’t know Ida,” Mrs. Beale insisted. “She’s one of those loose women.” She whispered the word loose, and I fully expected her to look around to make sure no one else had heard her.
“Was she?” I asked, leaning forward. I still didn’t think having orange hair and wearing too much makeup made you a loose woman or a likely murderer, but I was willing to listen.
She nodded. “I heard she and Agnes Jones’ husband Earl, had an affair back in 1984.”
“Really?” I said. Earl had been a looker back then. I remembered him from Girl Scouts when he would pick up his daughter Marian.
“Oh, yes. I’ve never trusted the woman.”
Alec asked her a few more questions, and we left.
“That’s two strikes against Ida,” I said when we were in the minivan.
“Two?” he asked, buckling his seat belt.
“Mama suspects her, too.”
He chuckled. “Poor Ida Crawford. No one seems to like her.”
“Well, you know what they say. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” I said.
“And does she have a temper?” he asked.
“Stop it,” I said as he pulled away from Mrs. Beale’s house. “I don’t know if she did it or not. Just seems odd that two people would name her.”
“That it does,” he said. “That it does.”
“Let’s go to the funeral tomorrow,” I said.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
--13--
The parking lot of the First Baptist Church on Calloway Avenue was packed. Alec had to drive around the block a couple of times to find an open parking spot. I was sitting in the back so Mama could ride up front and not have to wrinkle her dress. I had borrowed one of her dresses since I hadn’t planned on going to a funeral while we were visiting. The kids had stayed home since they only knew Tom in passing. I had given them orders to clean grandma’s house top to bottom, just to make her feel better.
We got out and made our way inside the church. Tom lay in his casket wearing a red tie and black suit. I went to take a look at him, and he looked better than I ever remembered seeing him.
Ida Crawford stood at the head of his casket, sobbing into a white lace hanky. Her orange hair was done up in a bouffant and her red lipstick had rubbed off on her hanky. Mama hung back, talking to some of the ladies she knew from church and I figured she was waiting for Ida to move on. But Ida looked intent on staying put. She had a grip on the edge of the casket.
“Ida,” I said in greeting.
She looked up, her black eyeliner smudged under her eyes. She gave me a half-hearted smile. “Allie, how are you, honey?” she said and moved over closer to me and pulled me in close for a hug. Her perfume made breathing nearly impossible as I patiently waited until she had had her fill of hugging.
“There, there,” I said when I couldn’t find anything else to say. I patted her on the back and turned my head a little so I could get some fresh air.
Finally, she pulled away and held me at arms’ length. “You are a sight for sore eyes, girl. Still just as pretty as you ever were. It’s a shame we have to see each other under such sad terms.”
I smiled sympathetically. “Oh, it’s good to see you too, Ida. I can’t believe this happened to poor Tom. Gosh, I can’t imagine who would do such a thing, can you?” I was here, I figured I better make the best of it and see if I could get some information.
She nodded and moved in close again and I was regretting my decision to ask her about the murder when I got another mouthful of that perfume.
“I think it was Anne Beale,” she said, nodding knowingly. “You know that woman was at his house at least once a week, trying to get him to pay attention to her. It was probably more than once a week. Wouldn’t surprise me if it were nearly every day. You’d think she would have gotten the hint and left him alone.”
“Really? I can’t imagine why a woman would lower herself that way,” I said, shaking my head. “Did she tell you about her going over there?”
“Oh no, Tom did. He said he could hardly stand it when she came around. Said she was a nuisance, and he had no interest in her,” she whispered.
Two other ladies stepped up to the casket, and Ida and I took a few steps back.
“That’s odd she would persist,” I said. “You’d think she would get the hint.”
She nodded again. “She was always an odd one, if you ask me. I think she finally had enough of his rejecting her, although knowing Tom, he was sweet as he could be about it, and then she killed him,” she said, her voice cracking on the last part.
I clucked my tongue and shook my head. “It’s a terrible shame,” I said.
More people began streaming toward the casket, so I excused myself and headed back to the back row of pews where Alec sat, waiting. When Mama saw Ida leave the casket area for her own pew, she got in line to see To
m.
I leaned over toward Alec and whispered. “Guess who just fingered Mrs. Beale for the murder?”
He chuckled. “I can only guess.”
“Seems Tom told Ida that he couldn’t stand Anne Beale coming around every week. Said she was a nuisance.”
He sighed. “Either some ladies are telling some tall tales, or Tom was quite the man about town.”
“My money’s on Tom,” I said.
“Mine might be, too.”
I scanned the room and recognized most of the faces from my youth, but there were a number of people I didn’t recognize at all. The landscape of Goose Bay was changing, and I was missing it. For a few moments, I wondered what it would be like to move back home. It filled me with happiness until I considered what I would miss in Sandy Harbor. Lucy and Ed for two. And everything else I had known over the past twenty-plus years. I sighed. I would be homesick no matter where I lived.
“Do you think his daughter will show?” I asked, looking around again.
“I don’t know. People behave peculiarly during grief. She may say she doesn’t care about him, but it most likely isn’t true. He was her father, after all,” he said.
Mama made her way back to our pew, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, and I felt badly for her. She stopped and hugged someone and then continued back to where we were and sat next to me. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.
Alec nudged me a few minutes before the service was scheduled to begin, and I looked over at the door just as Leslie Warren walked through. Staggered was more like it. The red floral dress she wore was two sizes too big for her and she wore purple shoes with it that had seen much better days. She was a mess, and I felt bad for her, too. I hoped she would be okay. She appeared to be alone, and I wondered who the people were on the front row pew. I couldn’t remember if Tom had more family in town and Mama hadn’t mentioned any.
“Mama, who are those people in the first row? Tom’s kin? I don’t recognize them,” I whispered.
She sat up and dabbed at her eyes again. “Yes, that’s his sister Pamela, I think you met her years ago, and his brother Steven. The younger ones are nieces and nephews, I think. I think they live in Mobile.”
I couldn’t remember Pamela, but I could see a family resemblance in one of the young ladies. She had to be Leslie’s cousin. Leslie continued down the aisle and people stepped aside.
I felt myself cringe as she stood at the casket looking at her dead father. I could imagine all the pain and regrets going through her mind right then. She held onto the side of the casket, and leaned in toward him and my stomach dropped. She wouldn’t kiss him, would she?
I glanced at Alec, who was intently watching Leslie. Leslie leaned in even closer and whispered something to Tom and then stood up straight.
“I hate you,” she said very clearly and loud enough to be heard back where we sat.
The room went silent. Leslie’s hands still gripped the side of the casket, and her face turned red, as she leaned over again and spit on her father.
Alec was on his feet and at her side before anyone else could get to her. I trailed behind him, to help. The buzz in the room grew louder, and I hoped we wouldn’t have a riot on our hands.
“Leslie, why don’t you come sit with Allie and I?” he said in a low, calm tone.
A big burly looking cousin stepped toward Leslie, and Alec held a hand up to stop him. Leslie didn’t turn toward Alec, but continued staring at her father.
“She needs to leave,” the cousin said in a low voice.
“You need to sit down,” Alec warned.
Alec had one arm protectively around Leslie’s shoulders and asked her to come sit with us again. I stood nearby, not knowing what to do. I went to the cousin and said, “It’s okay. It will be fine.”
He looked at me, anger burning in his eyes, but he took several steps back. I had no idea how the family dynamic had been before Leslie had a falling out with her father, but clearly things hadn’t been good for a while, and this wasn’t helping things.
“Come on, Leslie,” Alec murmured. Leslie swayed on her feet and then let go of the side of the casket and Alec led her back to the back pew.
I followed behind them and went around to the other side and Alec sat her between us. Mama sat on my other side. I took Leslie’s hand as she began to sob, then put my arm around her shoulders.
Mama looked at me, then turned her attention to the pastor as he began the service. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I held Leslie. My heart was breaking, but I didn’t know how to help her. Sometimes things were too complicated to fix for someone else.
--14--
December 18th was the night of the annual Christmas carnival. It was held at the high school gym and nearly the whole town turned out for it. My sister Shelby and my brother Jake had arrived earlier, and we had spent time catching up.
There would be raffles at the carnival, and I had volunteered to make a contribution. I had baked a fresh batch of gingerbread men and a small gingerbread house and arranged them in a gift basket and wrapped them in clear cellophane. All funds went to the high school sports teams to buy new equipment. The city had had to make cutbacks, and this was a great opportunity to contribute to the kids.
At 6:00 we headed out to the carnival.
The gym was lit up with floodlights on the outside and Christmas lights on the inside. People milled about, hot chocolate or coffee in hand, catching up with friends and neighbors they hadn’t seen in a while. The gym was filled with booths where for a dollar, you could play games and win a prize. There were tables of baked goods for sale as well as crafts. Christmas cheer was in the air and it felt good to be here.
“Let’s get a hot cocoa, Allie,” Shelby said. Shelby was twelve years younger than I was. An oops child, and she had been my pride and joy growing up. She was the best gift my parents could have given me. My twelve-year-old self had taken her as my own, when mama would allow it.
“Sounds good,” I said, and we went and got in line.
Shelby had strawberry blond hair and other than the fact that mine was a darker red and I was older, we could have passed as twins. She lived a couple of hours away in Gaston and worked at a café.
Jake was three years older and newly divorced. His wife had been unable to have children, and he had been fine with being childless, but one day his ex-wife had told him she wanted to be with a younger man. One who had three motherless children, and she left. He had time on his hands and he visited Mama as frequently as he could. Earlier he had mentioned moving back to Goose Bay, and I hoped he would. It would be good for Mama, and probably for him as well. I could tell he was lonely being out on his own after twenty years of marriage.
“So is it true, what happened at Tom’s funeral?” Shelby whispered, looking over her shoulder.
I nodded. “I’m afraid so. It’s sad. I wish they could have made up before he died.”
“It really is sad. But you have to admit, Leslie brought some of it on herself,” she said, and we scooted up as the line got shorter.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Oh, you know. She has a history of drug use. Her father wanted her to go into rehab, but she didn’t want to. He had to bail her out of jail a time or two. Her mind isn’t always very clear, I don’t think, and she tells some tall tales about what happened between them,” she said.
“Yes but, I think the real issue was that Tom dated other women while her mother was in the nursing home,” I said.
She looked at me. “Case in point. No, he didn’t date other women while his wife was in a nursing home. His wife died about a week after she went into the nursing home, and he was by her side.”
I looked at her wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yes, my friend Christa worked at the nursing home when she was there. Said she died within a week of arriving. Natural causes.”
I st
ared at her. “Then why did Leslie say he had dated other women? Why has she been angry all these years?”
She shrugged. “I told you. She’s had a drug problem for years.”
That was something to ponder. I had been sure she was telling us the truth. We got our hot cocoa, as well as some for Jake, Mama, and Alec. The kids had wandered off to look at things on their own, so they were out of luck.
“Mama, did Tom date women while his wife was in the nursing home?” I whispered when we got back.
Alec looked at me, and then at Mama. “No, why would he do that? He loved his wife.”
“She died right after she went into the nursing home,” Shelby repeated and Mama nodded her head in agreement.
I looked at Alec.
“Maybe we should go talk to Leslie again,” he said.
“I guess so,” I agreed.
“Hi, y’all,” John McGinty said, walking up with his wife, Cara.
“Cara!” I screeched and hugged her tightly to me. “How are you?”
“Oh, Allie, it’s so good to see you! I’m good. You look great!” she exclaimed.
“Oh my goodness, I’ve missed you!” I said releasing her to take a good look at her. “You haven’t aged a bit!” And she hadn’t. She was still cute as ever, with her long brown hair and green eyes that sparkled.
“Oh, please! But you do look the same,” she said. “I can’t believe we didn’t just graduate high school. I don’t know where the time goes!”
“Me either. I have kids around here somewhere. I need to introduce you to them,” I said.
“Mine are coming in on the twenty-third for Christmas. We’ll have to get together before you leave. I left that hippie back on the farm in Idaho. It’s good to be back home and of course, I found or rather, rediscovered, a certain John McGinty,” she said, looking at her husband.
John blushed and looked away. He was still that shy math nerd.
I introduced Cara to Alec, and he gave her a smile and shook her hand.
