A Truth for a Truth (7 page)

I kept my voice neutral. “Isn’t there a tournament scheduled here in early May?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Wasn’t your dad helping you prepare?”

“He’s been trying.” Moonpie had escaped, and now Deena grabbed him as he walked by and cuddled him against her. “I told him I wanted to prepare by myself.”

Warning bells again. “Deena,
when
did you quit?”

A long pause. “A couple of months ago,” she said at last, without looking at me.

“And you didn’t tell him?”

She finally looked up from Moonpie’s fur. “Well, it’s not my fault. I just knew he’d make such a big deal out of it. And I didn’t want to get into a fight. I didn’t want him to feel bad, either.”

I understood. Deena and Ed had gone through a bad patch this past summer, and I could see that inviting another would be way down on her list of things to do.

“Your dad would have been just fine with your decision,” I said, because it was true. “Disappointed yes, but certainly not angry. All you had to do was tell him why you quit.” I paused. “Why did you?”

She looked away again, setting the cat back on the floor. “Because.”

“That’s an explanation?”

“I just wanted to, that’s all.”

“And your reason would be?”

“Why are you making a big deal out of it? I just don’t want to be on the team anymore.”

This time my warning bells were playing a concert. Something had happened, something Deena didn’t want to talk about. From experience I know that the things kids don’t want to talk about are the very things they should.

“Did you have a fight with Mr. Collins?” Stephen Collins was the middle school debate coach, an English teacher in his late twenties with wild dark curls and a grin for everybody. He was exuberant, funny, and passionate about debate. I’d never heard a bad word about him.

She hesitated. “No.”

That hesitation said a lot. “Deena, I know Mr. Collins can be kind of out there. Did he say something that hurt your feelings?”

“No.” She didn’t sigh. She exhaled forcefully enough to scatter the traces of flour I’d spilled on the counter. “I just wanted to quit, that’s all. And I didn’t want an inquisition. That’s why I didn’t say anything right away.”

Stay out of my life.
I heard that loud and clear. Of course the problem is that for parents, these are fighting words. Most of the time we are actually quite thrilled to stay out of our children’s lives, since hopefully we have lives of our own. Deena’s hair is Deena’s hair. The color of her nail polish, whether she wears pants or a skirt any given morning, chooses
Twilight
or
The Book Thief
at bedtime, sleeps over at Tara’s or Shannon’s? These are pieces of Deena’s life, not mine. But possible problems at school? Problems she might not be able to handle on her own at fourteen?

Whose problems were those?

“It just seems odd,” I said. “You’re not involved in that many other things. It can’t be time.”

“Give up, okay? My decision, not yours. And I’m happy about it. What kind of sauce are you putting on the pizza?”

Mothers regroup, they don’t quit, and I know my role. I dropped the subject for the moment, but I knew we weren’t finished.

“Garlic and oil?” I asked. “Tomato? Pesto? I think I still have some in the freezer.”

“Let’s do garlic and oil with mushrooms. We have mushrooms?”

“Gorgeous mushrooms. And red peppers.”

“Maybe I am hungry.” She wandered off to see what Teddy was doing.

I had just set the dough in my gas oven to rise when Lucy came barreling into the kitchen. Lucy knows she’s always welcome, and she does knock, more or less. But this time she surprised me.

“Murdered?” she shrieked.

I hadn’t had time to call and tell her the events of my afternoon, although it had been the next thing on my agenda. I went to the sink to wash my hands, and she followed me.

“I promise I was going to call,” I said. “We don’t know anything for sure. We just know the funeral director had to take Win’s body to the coroner for an autopsy. Maybe they want to study the effects of heart disease on retired ministers.”

“Aggie, the police got a phone call! Somebody claimed Win Dorchester was murdered, somebody they took seriously enough to interrupt your service.”

I grabbed a towel to dry my hands, but I was facing her by then. “How do you know all that?”

“I keep my ear to the ground.”

Two evasive females in short succession. What was it about my kitchen?

I struggled to sound casual. “What ground exactly?”

“The police got a call. I think it was a woman, but that part’s up in the air. I overhead some of this.”

“Where?” When she didn’t answer, I smiled reassuringly. “Lucy, I can tell you’re involved with somebody, and now it’s pretty clear it’s a cop. Is Roussos the mystery? You don’t have to hide that from me. I promise if you tell me that much, I’ll never mention it again.”

It’s a sad day when a friend snorts at you.

I wrinkled my nose after the noise died away. “Okay, I’ll
try
not to mention it again.”

“It’s not even important where I heard it.”

“Well, if it
was
Roussos, you and he have something really special going on, because that man doesn’t give out information to anybody.”

“You mean to
you
. And why? He knows you’re practically a professional snoop.”

“And you’re not?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Did I say that?”

My head was whirling. “Okay, what else did you overhear?”

“Nothing else, darn it. But I wanted you to know that much.”

I filled her in on the scene at the service, plus my attempts to make peace with Win’s admirers afterwards. “I hate to think about my next meeting with Hildy,” I finished. “I ruined the service for her. Not that I had any choice, but will she see it that way?”

“I have to meet this woman.” Lucy glanced at her watch. “Gotta run.”

“You could stay for pizza.”

“Gotta run.” She smiled a little. “I’ll keep you in the loop if I hear anything else.”

“Good friends tell each other everything.”

“Everything they want to.” She winked. In a moment she was gone.

By seven o’clock the pizza was gone except for two slices I managed to save for my slumbering husband. If Ed didn’t wake up by ten, I planned to eat them myself. I was cleaning the kitchen again, Deena was upstairs on a marathon phone call, and Teddy was taking a shower when our doorbell rang—which immediately ruled out a second visit from Lucy. I was still drying my hands on the same dishtowel when I opened the door to find Sally Berrigan on our threshold. If I’d ever had doubts about a benevolent creator, they were now put to rest.

I locked arms with her and pulled her inside. This was not the easiest of tasks, since Sally is tall, with wide, almost masculine shoulders, not to mention Sally is a woman who will not be pulled where she doesn’t want to go.

Luckily she wanted to come inside, and did. I let go of her once I was sure and closed the door with a resounding thud.

“Sally, do you know what’s going on here?”

She looked puzzled, which is not an expression one often sees on her no-nonsense face. In her sixty-plus years, Sally has rarely been puzzled. She’s almost always sure of herself and her opinions and never hesitant to express them. That’s why Emerald Springs is chafing under the mayoral leadership of Brownie Kefauver, who will say anything anybody wants to hear. Sally, the forthright candidate, scared the town to death.

“I know Win Dorchester’s memorial service was this afternoon,” she said. “I feel so bad I had to be away. Did it go all right?”

That was such a loaded question, I wasn’t sure how to answer it. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Not really. I just got back into town, and I’m looking forward to some dinner.”

“I have homemade pizza. Mushroom.” I saw her eyes light up. “Red pepper and whole wheat crust.” I tried not to feel guilty about poor, snoozing Ed.

“Would it be any trouble?”

“Not one bit. Come in the kitchen. Would you like wine to go with it? I’ll have a glass with you.”

Sally looked pathetically grateful. “My plane was held up at Reagan National. We were on the tarmac for two hours. Then we circled the Columbus airport for half an hour before we landed.”

I nodded as she continued her litany of travel woes, all of which sounded too familiar these days.

She was seated with the pizza and a glass of cheap cabernet before I dared interrupt.

“I’m just glad you stopped by.”

“I’m really here to see Ed. I have some papers for him.” She gestured to the large leather satchel at her feet. “He’s interested in health care legislation, so I brought home everything I found on my stops.”

“He’ll be thrilled. But he’s sleeping off some powerful antihistamines.” I segued into the story of the lilies as Sally nodded and chewed.

“That wasn’t the worst problem, though,” I said, and filled her in on the phone call and all the trouble afterwards. “I think the police might suspect more than a heart attack.”

For a moment she went perfectly still, then her eyes widened. “Murder?”

I couldn’t add what Lucy had told me, even though it was a confirmation. “Why else would they stop the burial?” I asked instead.

“Unbelievable.”

“I’d have said so if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“This is terrible.”

It was, which made me feel even worse about pumping Sally for information. But I was a pump that was primed and ready. I gushed forth.

“I spoke to Yvonne after the service. She told me about the party that Win and Hildy had the night he died. She mentioned that you said there was some unpleasantness after she left? Do you think this is something the police might be asking about?”

This was a pretty direct request for information, but I was talking to a direct woman. If Sally didn’t want me to know, pussyfooting around wouldn’t get me anywhere, either.

“You really think it’s relevant?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to put all these pieces together, but there are a lot of holes.”

“Are you going to get involved in this, Aggie?”

I tried to smile. “I really hope not. But I guess I’d like to know enough to make a decision.”

Sally was quiet through half of her second piece of pizza. Then she put down her fork and picked up her wineglass.

“Win was always a big proponent of the United Nations, and you know I am, too. I’d read two interesting articles I’d promised to share with him, only I left them in the car that evening. I remembered when I was halfway home, so I turned around and went back. I had to park a block away, so it was maybe twenty minutes after I’d left? Maybe even half an hour? I walked up the block toward the house and as I did, I heard two women arguing. For the first moment or two, I was sure it had to be at somebody else’s house because it was so heated, but as I got closer to Win and Hildy’s rental, I realized the argument was coming from there. Then I saw Marie Grandower rushing down their front walk. I don’t think she saw me. I’m almost sure she didn’t. She turned in the other direction and disappeared down the block. She was really moving. I realized one of the voices I’d heard must have been hers.”

“And the other?”

“Hildy’s. At that point I stopped, trying to decide if I ought to just turn around and leave and give Win the articles another day. A part of me wondered if I ought to check on things, you know. I wasn’t sure what had happened, and maybe I was needed. Then I heard Hildy, inside, I think, arguing with Win.” She shook her head. “That was the last time I’ll ever hear his voice.”

I didn’t like the sound of any of this, and I almost wished I hadn’t asked—
almost
being the key word. If Win had been murdered, this argument between Hildy and Win just before he died might come out, would, in fact, if Sally was questioned or decided to go to the police on her own. I might not like this, but the facts couldn’t be changed.

I leaned forward. “Did you hear anything that was said?”

Sally was clearly mulling over whether to tell me. She finished the last of the pizza and the wine before she did. I wondered if she was afraid I’d snatch it away if she chose to keep the rest of her thoughts to herself.

“I didn’t hear much.” She held my gaze with her pale blue eyes. “But I did hear Marie’s name. Hildy was shouting. And she called Win . . . a bastard.”

I winced.

“The rest was garbled. But you’ve seen enough of Hildy to know how out of character that kind of anger would be, particularly anger at Win. They’d been married practically forever. She adored him.”

“Maybe they survived that long by yelling and forgiving. It works well for some people.”

“Maybe. But I’ve known them a lot of years. I’ve never seen or heard any reason to think that’s the way they operated. Hildy never raises her voice.”