Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle (8 page)

“Hm,” she said. “Maybe they know who he is but just haven’t released the name. They do that, you know, so they can notify the family first.”

“Then all we have to do,” Lillian chimed in, “is ride around till we see who got a black wreath on they door.”

“Well,” Hazel Marie said, as if she hadn’t heard the intervening comments. “All I know is that Miss Petty had nice things to say about Lloyd—what a good student he is and how polite he is—so she must be a nice person.”

“Except,” I said, “when she yells at the students in class. At least that’s what Lloyd told me, but it sounded as if she has reason to yell at times. Still, that means she’s not quite as quiet and mousy as she looks.”

Lillian said, “I’m waitin’ on Lloyd to get home. I bet he gonna know all they is to know.”

“I bet he will!” I said, as we all laughed. “That school will be rife with rumors and speculations and wrongheaded theories. I just don’t want him to get too wrapped up in what’s going on.”

Hazel Marie hunched her shoulders as a shiver ran across them. “What if that man was
murdered
?”

“That’s what I’m won’drin’,” Lillian said as she reached for a cookie. “An’ that’s what everybody gonna think with him layin’ out there with rakes and shovels in the dead of winter.”

“Oh my,” Etta Mae said, her eyes big, “you think that’s what happened? Who could’ve done it? And just imagine Miss Petty sleeping right across the yard while somebody was killing him. I’d never get to sleep again.”

“Now listen, you three,” I said, and right sharply too. “There is no reason to think that or even to mention it. Hazel Marie, you’re supposed to be thinking pleasant thoughts and keeping your mind off distressing subjects.”

“I know,” she said, nodding agreement. “But it’s so interesting and just scary enough to make you
want
to think about it. I’m just glad it didn’t happen any closer than it did.” She nibbled on a cookie, then said, “What I’d like to know is this: Did Miss Petty know him? I mean, he could’ve been visiting her, then he could’ve left and had a heart attack or something in her yard and tried to crawl back but could only get as far as the toolshed before giving up the ghost.”

“Oh, Law,” Lillian said, raising both hands in the air, “don’t be talkin’ ’bout no ghost!”

“That’s enough speculation,” I said, standing up and taking my cup and saucer to the sink. “Lloyd won’t be the only one having bad dreams. Hazel Marie, clear your mind and think about something warm and fuzzy.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “J.D.,” she said dreamily.

“Oh for goodness sakes,” I said, but I had to laugh with the others.

“Well,” Etta Mae said, picking up her coffee cup as she stood, “I can’t top that, so I better be going. Hazel Marie, you’re doing fine, but if you need me, just call me on my cell. Miss Julia,” she went on as she turned to me, “it looks like the doctor’s right and it’ll still be a while before anything happens. But everything’s arranged with my boss so I can be here whenever you call.” She leaned in close to me and whispered, “I don’t know how you managed it, but whatever arrangement you made has Lurline riding high. Otherwise, she’d never let me off.”

If Etta Mae’s employer heard that my checks were being returned for insufficient funds, she might not be riding quite so high. I might be forced to pay her with a cashier’s check or with, heaven help us, cash on the barrelhead.

Slipping on her coat, Etta Mae picked up her bag, speaking to Hazel Marie as she headed for the door. “Tell J.D. that I don’t think I need to move in quite yet. Don’t want to wear out my welcome too soon.”

It was a quiet, easy day after Etta Mae left, although there was an underlying tension along my nerves that made me feel as if we were living in the calm before the storm, in spite of Etta Mae’s reassurances. Until those babies had safely arrived and the bank had my account straightened out, I knew I was in for unremitting anxiety. It didn’t help that Sam was gone. I was so accustomed by now to his sane and steady approach to whatever happened that without him I felt uneasy and at loose ends.

But the day wore on, as days usually do, with the temperature dropping so that almost as soon as the furnace clicked off, it clicked back on again. I kept busy, finishing up my thank-you notes and going over the figures in my check register again, which I confirmed were absolutely correct. Hazel Marie stayed in her room most of the day, making sure her suitcase was packed in case she had to make a hurried trip to the hospital. Lillian entertained herself by listening to gospel music on the radio while preparing the evening meal.

A little after noon I walked back to Hazel Marie’s room to check on her and, looking in the open door, saw her stretched out on the upholstered rocking chair, her feet on the ottoman and a pillow behind the small of her back.

I tiptoed in and spread a cashmere throw over her. Even with the furnace going full blast, there was still a chill in the air. She blinked and raised her head.

“Sorry, Hazel Marie,” I whispered. “Just covering you up. Go on back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” she said, yawning. “Just resting my eyes.” She smiled and put her head back down.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“I think so. A few little contractions now and then, but the doctor said that’s normal at this stage and not to worry about them unless they started coming regularlike.”

Immediately concerned, I asked, “Well, are they?”

“No, just every now and then, enough to make me not want to do anything but lie around.” She laughed. “So that’s what I’m doing.”

“Good. You need all the rest you can get. There’ll be none for the weary when those little ones get here. You think you could eat some lunch? It’s getting so late, I’m surprised Lillian hasn’t brought you any.”

“I guess so, though I’m not really hungry.” She laughed again and held out her hand. “If you’ll help me out of this chair, I’ll try to get up. I need to move around a little.”

When we got to the kitchen, Lillian looked up and said, “’Bout time you ready to eat. I looked in on you a while ago, but I jus’ let sleepin’ dogs lie. Set on down now an’ I’ll put something on the table.”

We did and she did, and it was almost like old times, although the times weren’t that old. But not so long ago there had been no Sam or Mr. Pickens in the house, and with Lloyd in school most of the day, there had been only the three of us.

Lillian sat down with us, propped her arms on the table, and looked squint eyed at Hazel Marie, then turned to me. “I don’t want to worry y’all none, but the radio say we might be in for snow tonight.”

“Oh my,” I said, dropping my fork. “Hazel Marie, maybe you should go on to the hospital.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not anywhere close to needing to do that. They’d just send me right back home again. Besides, even if it does snow, it’ll likely be melted by tomorrow.”

“That’s true,” I said, recalling the numerous snows we’d had in the past that did little more than cause a run on bread and milk at the grocery stores.

As if reading my mind, Lillian heaved herself out of her chair, saying, “I better get to the grocery store sometime today. Everything be gone if I don’t.”

Feeling some anxiety in case the Ingles manager accosted her again, I said, “Why, Lillian, you just went yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes’m, I did, but no tellin’ when I get to go again. Y’all think of anything we need?”

“Some of those seedless green grapes would be nice,” Hazel Marie said. “I’ve had them on my mind all day.”

“I get some then. Miss Julia, anything you want?”

“I can’t think of anything right offhand,” I said. “Well, maybe something we can eat cold if the power goes off.” Then, at the thought of cold food and a cold house, I had to get up and walk around, spouting emergency plans as I walked. “Hazel Marie, are you sure you’ll be all right if the power goes out? I better get Lloyd to put some more wood on the back porch. We can all sleep in the living room by the fireplace if we have to. Why in the world didn’t I get a generator before this? By now, every generator in the county will be sold. Lillian, why don’t you and Latisha spend the night? ”

“Miss Julia,” Hazel Marie said, laughing. “It’s not going to get that bad. It’ll just be a flurry or two—if we get that much.”

Lillian nodded in agreement. “That’s what the weatherman say. He say we dodging the bullet, ’cause they’s a big storm gonna pass us by. But I’m gonna go on to the store when it time to pick up Latisha, jus’ in case he get it wrong, which everybody know wouldn’t be the first time.”

As Lillian cleared the table, Hazel Marie declared herself ready to change positions. “If I sit too long in one place,” she said as she managed to get to her feet, “my back starts aching.”

And no wonder, I thought, the poor woman was so front heavy that she’d become swaybacked to counterbalance the load.

So with one busy and the other lying down, I went to the living room, lit the fire that was already laid, and sat down to enjoy the warmth and the look of the flames as I continued to worry about the weather. Getting up now and then to look out the window, I saw no snowflakes as yet and hoped that they would indeed pass us by. Even though the sky was overcast, it seemed no more threatening than the usual January day. The wind, however, was picking up and I saw trees whipping back and forth and power lines swaying in the gusts.

I declare, the weight of decision making—when or if Hazel Marie should go to the hospital—hung over me, and I wished to my soul that Sam hadn’t gone halfway across the state. Even Mr. Pickens would do in his place—anyone who would relieve me of the responsibility for Hazel Marie’s departure time.

When the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my chair, the noise was so loud in the silent house. Hurrying to answer it before it disturbed Hazel Marie, I was so surprised at who was on the line that I had to sit down again.

“Madam Murdoch, this is Thurlow Jones. Remember me?” he asked, as if I could ever forget. I had immediately recognized his voice, although his usual taunting and mocking tone was missing. “Can you talk?”

“Of course I can talk. What can I do for you?”

“I wanta know what you’ve heard about that body they found.”

“Why, I haven’t heard any more than what everybody seems to know: it was an unidentified man dressed in nice but soiled clothing. Somebody from the water department found it and called the sheriff. The body’s been sent to Winston-Salem for autopsy, according to the paper, and that’s the extent of my knowledge. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re close to that Sergeant Bates and because a private investigator lives in your house. At least he did the last I heard. That’s why.”

“I doubt that either of them knows any more than the rest of us, and they wouldn’t share it with me if they did. In fact, Thurlow, everybody thinks you know more than anybody, seeing that it happened practically in your yard.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” he snapped, sounding more like himself. “I figured you’d know what’s being said, whether it’s true or not. And most likely it wouldn’t be, the way you women like to gossip.”

“I’ll have you know that I do not gossip, and I resent the implication.”

“Oh, don’t get on your high horse, Madam. I didn’t mean you’d pass it on, just that you might’ve heard something.”

“Yes, and you figured I’d pass it along to you, didn’t you? Then you’d have every right to call me a gossip.”

He sighed dramatically. “You are the most contentious woman I know. I can’t ask a simple question without you getting your back up. I’m just concerned about Laverne Petty and what folks’re saying about her. She’s my neighbor, you know.”

“Well,” I said, calming down at this indication that he had some normal feelings. “I’m concerned about her too. She’s one of Lloyd’s teachers and he was in her class when the deputies came to get her. That seems to prove she didn’t know anything about it, much less have anything to do with it. But you’re so near, Thurlow, did you hear or see anything that night?”

“Nope, not a thing. I sleep upstairs at the front of the house. But I don’t want people spreading rumors about Laverne. She’s a nice lady who goes about her business without bothering anybody, and if it so happens that she has a few visitors now and then, well, it’s her business and nobody else’s.”

“Visitors? ”

“See, now there you go jumping to conclusions. Typical woman is all I can say.”

Talk about contentious, I couldn’t believe him. “This conversation is over, Thurlow. Call the sheriff ’s department if you want to know anything else. I’m hanging up.” And I did, fuming so much I could hardly see straight.

I couldn’t sit still after that, for the more I thought of Thurlow’s sly insinuation about Miss Petty’s morals, the more outraged I got. Why, if whispers like that got around, the woman could lose her job. The school board would have her out before she turned around good. Something had to be done to nip this in the bud.