Miss Julia Paints the Town (7 page)

Then as another thought came to mind, I took myself in hand and trotted after Lieutenant Peavey. He was well ahead of me, his long legs making strides down the staircase and through the crowd in the foyer. No one dared delay him with questions, but they all stopped and watched as he went out the front door. I was right behind him.

“Lieutenant Peavey,” I called, as I hurried to catch up to him before he reached his squad car. He'd parked on Mildred's lawn, which was the only clear space, but I knew she'd have a fit when she saw tire tracks on her grass.

He stopped and barely turned to see who had called him. At the sight of me, I do believe he would've continued on if I hadn't moved in front of him and stood there on the walk beside the corner of the sunroom, next to a camellia bush.

“Lieutenant Peavey,” I said, all in a rush since he wasn't what you'd call the conversational type. “Mildred Allen is a good friend of mine, and I would be remiss if I didn't bring to your attention something you seem to have overlooked.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked down at me from his great height. “If you know something germane to this case, let's hear it.”

“I don't know if it's germane or not, but you seem to have only two possibilities in mind—either Horace was killed in that wreck, which is unlikely since you can't find his body, or he's involved with Assured Estate Planners and is running from the law. I'd like to remind you that there is another possibility.” I stopped to take a breath, then hurried on before he could dismiss me, which he had a way of doing whenever he thought somebody was interfering with the way he enforced the law. “Think about this: What if Horace was a victim of a carjacking? What if somebody bashed him over the head, far from that accident site, left him dazed and injured, then drove the car up that mountain and crashed it? Then that thief walked away, leaving everybody to think that Horace had been driving it, when in fact Horace is on the other side of the county or in Asheville or who-knows-where, all unaware of what he's being accused of. And furthermore,” I went on hastily, since Lieutenant Peavey didn't seem too impressed with what I was saying, “that driver, whoever he was, could be the one who left that paper in the car. He, not Horace Allen, could be connected to Assured Estate Planners. Don't you see?”

I didn't think the lieutenant's eyes could get any narrower, but they did. Then they lifted from their gaze of me to look over my head as he slipped on his dark aviator glasses, in spite of the fact that the sun had almost set. “It's possible,” he said.

“Of course it's possible, and…oh, my heavens!” I almost reached out to support myself on his arm, but decided against it.

“Are you all right?” The touch of concern in his voice moved me since I'd never known him to be all that sensitive to human feelings. “You look a little peaked. Maybe you better go inside and rest.”

“I don't need to rest,” I snapped. “I just thought of something else.” I swayed just a little, trying to think of something else I'd just thought of. “I'm supposed to send somebody to meet Mrs. Allen's daughter at the airport, and I forgot all about it. She'll be punching that cell phone all afternoon, unable to get through. There's been so many calls here, you know. Excuse me, Lieutenant, I'd better see about that right away. That poor girl will think we've abandoned her.”

I sidled around him, hoping to get away from those piercing eyes before he saw what a tale I'd told.

He stopped me cold. “Mrs. Murdoch. Don't let your imagination run away with you. I can assure you that we have not overlooked any possibility. That's why we're tracking Mr. Allen's movements since yesterday, although I didn't want to distress Mrs. Allen any more than necessary by laying any of this out. And I'd caution you against making it harder on her by telling her.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it,” I said, but he'd already sidestepped me and was heading for his car.

“Hazel Marie,” I said, drawing her into a corner of the dining room and keeping my voice low. “I think it's time to call Mr. Pickens.”

“Oh, good,” she said, turning to leave. “I hope he can get right on it. I'll call him from the kitchen.”

“Wait, Hazel Marie. We'd better talk to Mildred first.”

Hazel Marie's eyes widened. “Oh, I thought…well, yes, I guess we better.”

We met Ida Lee on the stairs as we were going up and she was coming down.

“Is Mildred still in the sitting room?” I asked.

“No'm, she say that lieutenant give her a migraine, so she laying down now. I'm going to fix her something to drink.”

“Oh, dear. What do you think, Hazel Marie? Should we disturb her?”

Hazel Marie said to Ida Lee, “Is it a bad one?”

“Yes, ma'am, she say she about blind with it.”

Hazel Marie made the decision. “Then let's wait till Tonya gets here and talk to her. Ida Lee, I bet you haven't had a bite to eat. Why don't you fix a plate and take it upstairs where you can eat in peace and rest a little? You need to stay close to Mrs. Allen, anyway. There're enough people to see to anything that needs doing down here.”

“That's good advice, Ida Lee,” I said. “And I hope you take it. We can't have you giving out. Have you heard from Tonya?”

“Yessum, the only flight she could get was to Charlotte, and she called from there a minute ago. She's driving a rental car on home, so she ought to be here in a couple of hours.”

“Then let's go on home, Hazel Marie, and see about things there. Ida Lee, please ask Tonya to call us as soon as she can. It's extremly urgent that we talk with her. We may have a way to find her daddy.”

“Lillian,” Hazel Marie said as soon as we walked into the house. “Is Lloyd home yet?”

“Yessum, he upstairs workin' on something. He say he got a big report due on Monday, an' he don't wanta mess up his whole weekend with it.”

“I thought he'd finished that,” Hazel Marie said, as she started for the back stairs. “I'll run up and speak to him.”

“Don't be long,” I said. “We need to talk things over before Tonya gets here. I've come up with something that's worrying me to death.”

As she ran up the stairs, Lillian looked at me from under lowering brows. “What you cookin' up to do now?”

“Not one thing, except to talk Mildred into hiring Mr. Pickens. I tell you, Lillian, I don't have much confidence in Lieutenant Peavey. You remember him, don't you?”

“Yessum, and you better leave that man alone. He chew you up and spit you out 'thout thinkin' twicet.”

“Well, I can't just stand around and let him ignore clearly marked leads and evidence, as he seems to be doing. He has one thing on his mind and one thing only, and can't see the forest for the trees.”

“Well, I'm jus' sayin'. You want some ice tea? I got some in the Frigidaire.”

“No, I'm too nervous to think about anything right now. Has Sam come in?”

“No'm, he stayin' scarce today.”

I strode across the kitchen to the telephone, mumbling to myself, “What has that man been doing all day?”

“James?” I said, when he answered the phone. “Let me speak to Mr. Sam, please.”

“Who I say's callin'?”

“
James!
You
know
who's calling. Now put him on the phone.”

“Yessum, I would if I could, but I can't. He come in a while ago and get a call on the telephone. Then he go back out, so I'm fixin' to go on home myself. 'Less you need me for something.”

“You don't know where he went?”

“No'm, he don't say.”

I hung up after telling James he might as well go on home, then turned to Lillian. “I don't understand it. Sam's been in and out all day and, come to think of it, he was doing the same thing yesterday. It's not like him to be out of touch so long.”

“He prob'ly got things to do, an' jus' let the time get away from him.”

“Well, he's never let time get away from him before. If he doesn't show up soon, I may have to set Lieutenant Peavey on his trail.”

I smiled when I said it, but there was a niggling worry in the back of my mind. With all the husbands that had gone missing in this town, I certainly didn't want mine numbered among them.

I waited in the living room for Hazel Marie to come down, which she did before long. “My goodness,” she said, “Lloyd's really working on that end-of-term paper, which I thought he'd already finished. But it'll be half his semester grade, so he wants to get it right. In spite of playing tennis all day. He said he wasn't even hungry.”

“Hazel Marie, I don't want to have to worry about that boy, but don't you think he ought to be putting on some weight? He's tired all the time, and it's not like him to wait till the last minute to get a major paper done.”

“I know, but he had a checkup last fall, and the doctor said he was fine.”

“Well, I'm wondering if he could be wormy. Children get those things you know, and he might need a few doses of a laxative to clean him out.”

“Oh, don't say that!” Hazel Marie was aghast at the thought, and I felt pretty much the same way. “I'll make another appointment for him this week.”

She shuddered and sat down beside me on the sofa. “I don't know if I can concentrate on Mildred after that. But tell me what you think is going on.”

“Well, it's like this. I almost told Lieutenant Peavey, but I knew he'd discount anything coming from me, so I didn't. But what I've come up with is all the more reason to get Mr. Pickens on the case, and I hope Tonya will talk her mother into doing it.” I straightened my shoulders and began to bring Hazel Marie up to date in my thinking. “Lieutenant Peavey conceded that it was possible that Horace's car could've been stolen. You know, carjacked? Leaving him injured on the side of the road somewhere. Maybe even with amnesia, but I didn't mention that because I didn't think of it at the time. And he seemed to allow that it was possible that whoever stole the car was the one who ran it off the road and wrecked it, and could've been the one who left that wadded-up paper about Assured Estate Planners in the car. You didn't hear about that, did you? Anyway, that was as far as I got, because another thought came to me that I couldn't bring myself to share with him.”

I squirmed in my seat, hesitant now to put into words what I was thinking. “Hazel Marie, what if the person who was driving Horace's car and wrecked it and left that paper in it was none other than Richard Stroud? What if Richard was the carjacker and the thief? You know, if a person would steal money, he'd do most anything else.” I paused to see how Hazel Marie was taking it, then my thoughts jumped ahead of even me.

“Oh,” I said, grasping Hazel Marie's arm, “what if Richard didn't just leave Horace on the side of the road? What if he kidnapped him and has him tied up somewhere? What if Horace is a victim, while all this time he's being accused of fraudulent intent and leaving the scene of an accident?”

“Oh, my,” Hazel Marie said, “you reckon? I can't believe Mr. Stroud would do something like that. But maybe you're right. Maybe it's not that Mr. Allen doesn't
want
to come home, but that he can't. Of course,” she mused, tapping her fingers on the armrest, “we're not considering Mildred. He might not want to face her, regardless of what's happened to him.”

“Well,” I said, recalling the flashes of anger Mildred had occasionally displayed toward Horace, “taking her temperament into account, I wouldn't, either.”

Idly twisting the charm bracelet on her arm, Hazel Marie said, “I wish I could talk to J.D. about it.”

“I don't see why you can't. I certainly intend to tell Sam. If he ever gets home. But, Hazel Marie, you can't hire Mr. Pickens. Only Mildred, or maybe Tonya, can do that.”

“Oh, I know, but he may have some ideas without being officially on the case. If you think it's all right, I'll call him now.”

As she got up, the doorbell rang and she veered to answer it. LuAnne came swishing in past her, saying, “Hey, Hazel Marie, I need to talk to Julia. You don't mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Hazel Marie said, unperturbed by LuAnne's rudeness. “I was just going upstairs anyway.”

LuAnne plopped down on the sofa beside me, her eyes following Hazel Marie as she left the room. Twisting her mouth, she said, “You think she's been enhanced?”

“What're you talking about?”

“Well, she's got such big…” LuAnne's hands made a rounded motion in front of her own ample bosom. “And she's so skinny everywhere else. Just all out of proportion.”

“No, LuAnne, there's nothing artificial about Hazel Marie. She's been like that ever since I've known her. Some people are born that way, you know. With the potential, I mean.” Then, because I was offended by her comments, I said, “How's Leonard?”

“I don't know how he is, and it's hateful of you to ask when you know how upset I am. Besides, you have your own problems, which is why I dropped by. Do you know where Sam is?”

“Not at this exact minute, no. But he'll be coming in any time now.”

“Well, good. I hope so.” She stood up, clasping her purse under her arm. “I've got to be going. It's almost suppertime.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, standing, too. “What do you mean, saying I have problems of my own? What's going on, LuAnne?”

“Well, I thought you'd be worried about Sam, so I just came by to put your mind at rest.” She sniffed. “But I see you're not at all concerned. It must be nice to have a husband you can trust, no matter where he is.”

“LuAnne, stop this. I know you aren't happy with me, but you don't need to take it out in innuendos. If you want to tell me something, then tell it.”

“All right, I will. Your husband is over at Helen Stroud's, and he's been there all afternoon.”

That rocked me back on my heels. I stared at her as a white haze blurred my vision. “How do you know?”

“Because I've been driving by to see if Leonard's car is there. And it's not,” she said triumphantly, “but Sam's car is. I told you, Julia, I told you that woman is up to no good.”

Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being right, I made an effort to appear unruffled. “I'm sorry, LuAnne, but I just can't get bent out of shape over that. I'm sure there's a good explanation, and Sam'll tell me all about it. Just as soon as he gets home.”

“For your sake, Julia, I hope so. Now I've got to go.”

And go she did, leaving me feeling as bereft as an orphaned child. Sam had been with Helen all afternoon? Maybe all day? With no time to call, no time for lunch, no thought of me? My heart felt as if a huge hand was squeezing it, and I almost had to sit down.

But at the thought of Helen, whom I'd been defending every time I turned around, I took myself in hand and marched out to the kitchen.

“Lillian, I have to run out for a minute. I won't be gone long.” I grabbed my car keys and headed out the door.

Lillian stopped pouring beans into a bowl and called after me. “This supper 'bout ready. What I gonna do with it?”

“Dip it up,” I called back. “I'll be back.”

As I drove the few blocks to Helen's, I felt myself trembling inside. I knew that checking up on Sam was beneath me, but I had to see for myself. LuAnne could've been mistaken, especially since she was in a state herself. Maybe it was somebody else's car, maybe she just wanted to shake me up, maybe any number of things, but I had to find out for sure.

Lord, I nearly drove into a mailbox. Sam's car was parked in Helen's drive, right up against the garage, as big as you please, with no effort made to conceal it. I knew it was his, and not one like it, because there was the Tarheel sticker on the rear bumper.

The next thing I knew I was speeding away, fearful that Helen or Sam would see me. Pulling to the side of the street a few blocks away to gather myself, I wondered why I was the one feeling guilty. I held the wheel with shaking hands, my head bowed and my chest aching with a pain I'd never before felt. There
was
a good explanation; there had to be.

I kept telling myself that until I was blue in the face. And I almost believed it. Sam would tell me all about it when he came home, then I'd laugh at myself for ever doubting him. For that reason, I would just die if he found out that I had been checking up on him, sneaking around trying to catch him in a compromising position. And with Helen, of all people!

Gradually, I began to calm myself down. Sam had never before given me a moment's worry, even though he'd been halfway around the world and back without me. He'd always been open and aboveboard even when he was practicing law, which was a marvel in and of itself. He was a faithful husband, I assured myself, and I would not, absolutely would not, turn on him with suspicions and accusations.

So I determined to keep my own counsel unless and until I became convinced that he was doing something he shouldn't. Then I would be as suspicious as I needed to be. For now, though, I had talked myself into believing that Sam was worthy of trust, and so was Helen. LuAnne had only been trying to make trouble. Misery loves company, you know.

I drove home slowly and carefully, still shaken but determined to bide my time until Sam told me the full story. Jealousy is a terrible emotion, twisting everything you know to be true into half and semi and partial truths. I simply was not going to fall prey to it, regardless of Sam's car being in another woman's driveway.

But why hadn't he returned my calls? Why had he been out of touch all day?

“No,” I said aloud as I pulled into our drive, “I will not ask him. I will not demand answers. I will not let him know that anything's amiss. But I will give him full opportunity to explain himself.”

Then as I removed the key from the ignition, I smiled, thinking,
This is a test.
If he voluntarily tells me of his day, leaving nothing out, then that's one thing. But if he doesn't, then that's certainly another. My mouth turned from smiling to a tight line of determination, and I went inside.

Lillian started grumbling as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. “Everybody runnin' 'round like chickens with they head cut off. I got my supper ready and jus' look. Nobody here to eat it.”

“Where're Hazel Marie and Lloyd?”

“They upstairs. I already call 'em, but they slow comin' down. An' Mr. Sam not here, an' you go runnin' off, an' I had to put my beans back on the stove to keep 'em warm.”

Just then, Hazel Marie stuck her head in and said, “Sorry, Lillian, but Lloyd only had a closing paragraph to do. We're at the table now.”

I followed her into the dining room and took my place at the table, patting Lloyd's head as I passed him. When Hazel Marie seated herself, Sam's empty place screamed for attention.

“Where's Mr. Sam?” Lloyd asked.

“I'm sure I don't know,” I said, complacently, as if his absence was nothing to me. I nodded to Lillian as she brought in dishes and set them on the table. “Will you return thanks, Lloyd?”

We bowed our heads in prayer, but my mind wasn't on the giving of thanks, but rather on the pleading of a wounded heart.

Then we heard a car door slam and soon after, Sam came through the back door. My heart lifted. At least he wasn't spending the night at Helen's.

“Hello, everybody,” he said, looking as normal as he always did, giving no indication that he'd been engaged in any wickedness whatsoever. Some people are like that. They can do the most underhanded things imaginable and still appear as innocent as a newborn. He took his place at the head of the table, giving me a wink as he smiled at us all. “Sorry I'm late. I got held up longer than I expected. How was your day, Lloyd?”

The boy passed Sam the mashed potatoes. “Pretty good, now. One more week of school and I just finished my last paper. At least I hope I have. I was playing tennis this afternoon, and it just hit me that I'd done the bibliography wrong. So I had to go through it again and fix it.”

“That's what you call an epiphany,” Sam said, nodding in approval. “Glad you had one before you turned in your paper. Hazel Marie, what's going on with you?”

Hazel Marie was looking a little bewildered, what with all the unfamiliar words being tossed around. But she perked up at Sam's question. “Oh, this has been a day and a half for us,” she said. “Miss Julia and I have been at Mildred's most of the day, and they still haven't found Horace. It's the strangest thing I've ever heard. I didn't know that somebody could just disappear.”

“Everybody's talking about it downtown, too,” Sam said. “I had lunch at the Bluebird Cafe, and if it wasn't Horace they were talking about, it was Assured Estate Planners.” Sam shook his head. “Maybe it's a good thing Stroud isn't around. Some people're mad enough to string him up.”

Hearing the Stroud name, I lifted my head in anticipation of what he might say about Helen. But he made no mention of her, which was suspicious to me, in and of itself. He went right on talking and mostly listening to Hazel Marie, who was telling him about wanting Mildred to hire Mr. Pickens and about Tonya on her way home and about Mildred's migraine and on and on.

I continued to pick at the food on my plate, more and more anguished at Sam's seeming inattention to me. He hadn't asked about my day. He hadn't directed one word to me. My spirits dropped lower and lower. Ignoring me could be the first sign of his interest in somebody else.

“Julia?” Sam said, and I couldn't help but look up expectantly, in spite of wanting to appear serene and composed. “I saw a couple of city commissioners at the Bluebird today, and you'll be happy to know that your idea of using the old courthouse for archives was well received. Tom Tinsley wanted to know if you'd be interested in heading a study committee to come up with a plan to pay for the restoration it needs. That would give them an alternative to the mayor's push to sell it to developers.” Sam picked up his glass of tea. “I told him you'd be happy to do it.”

I blinked, unable to respond. My first thought was that he wanted to keep me busy so I wouldn't find out what he was doing. Finally, I managed to say that I'd think about it, and the conversation went on without me.

The evening wore down to bedtime with everything seeming as normal as usual. Except my nerves, which were strung so tight that I thought I'd jump out of my skin. Tonya called about nine o'clock, letting us know she was home and there was still no word of her father. Mildred, she said, was inconsolable and had been given a sedative. I passed the phone to Hazel Marie, who talked at length with her about the advantages of hiring J. D. Pickens, P.I.

I left her to it and went into the living room to sit with Sam.
Now,
I thought,
we're alone and he'll tell me about Helen.

“Julia,” he said, “this is bad business about Horace. Did you pick up any hint of what might have happened?”

Ah,
I thought,
he's ready to talk and is just leading up to Helen.

So I told him some of the possibilities I'd come up with and how Lieutenant Peavey had dismissed them out of hand. “But, Sam, it makes sense. That piece of paper they found in Horace's car links him to Richard in some way. Or at least, links whoever was driving the car to Richard. And it's entirely possible that Richard had something to do with Horace's disappearance. Don't you think?”

Tell me,
I thought,
tell me what Helen thinks.

“I don't know,” he said, shaking his head. “It's a long shot any way you look at it. I've not heard of them having any dealings with each other, although,” he stopped and smiled, “the way Mildred treats Horace, I can see how he'd want to do something on his own. Maybe he just took off for Las Vegas or somewhere. Thousands of people disappear every year, you know, and it's usually because the home situation is intolerable.”

“Well, speaking of that,” I said, hoping that as I confided in him, he would in me. “Have you heard about Leonard Conover and Pastor Ledbetter?”

Sam laughed. “Don't tell me they're in cahoots.”

But his eyebrows went up when I told him of Pastor Ledbetter's potential call to another church, and he was as shocked as I was when I told him of Leonard's absence from hearth and home.

“Leonard Conover,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “who would've thought it.”

“That's not all,” I said, daring to bring up the name. “LuAnne thinks he's been lured away by Helen.” I watched him carefully to see if he would betray himself.