Authors: Rett MacPherson
A Comedy of Heirs (26 page)
“Della Ruth,” I declared, amazed. “You ⦠you were jealous.”
“Bradley never got over her. Never.”
“It had been decades since they'd been together, Naomi. Jesus.”
“Della Ruth had finally decided to leave Nate Keith. After all those years. Sixty-something years old and she finally decides she's had enough. Idiot woman.”
“So Bradley was right there. He was going to be there for her, wasn't he?” I asked.
“I don't really know. I couldn't take a chance on it. I couldn't lose him to her. I'd just gotten used to having what remnants she'd left of him. She wasn't going to get those, too,” she said. “Turns out, after Nate was killed, Della Ruth told Bradley to go on about his business, that it had been too many years. I didn't need to kill her after all.”
“So that is why Della Ruth sat there with the gun. She really was protecting everybody,” I said to nobody in particular.
“I don't know what Della Ruth did in the house. I didn't mean for the gun to go off and kill Nate. I was saving it for Della Ruth. Once I did it, I got scared and then I noticed that the place was crawling with people. Somebody in the barn and out with the chickens. I had to get out of there fast.”
“Did Bradley know?” I asked.
Naomi glared at me.
“Did Bradley know that you killed Nate Keith? Did he know that you went there to kill Della?” I asked. “I bet you were in a panic when you realized that you'd killed the only person that had ever stood in the way of Della Ruth and Bradley being together in the first place. How fortunate for you that Della Ruth just wasn't interested anymore.”
“You'll never prove this to anybody,” she said. “You can't. I'll deny every word.”
“No, but they can get you for attempted murder of me and the sheriff,” I said. I didn't know if they could or not. She was ancient, after all.
“Why invite me here and why tell me all of this horse manure about Bradley being John Robert's father? It is horse manure, isn't it?”
“Della Ruth was already pregnant and didn't know it when she and Bradley had their affair. John was Nate Keith's. But Bradley didn't care. He proposed anyway and told her she could come and live with him with all of her children. She wouldn't. Because she was pregnant. I think if she hadn't been pregnant, she might have done it.”
“Why did you invite me here?” I asked.
“If you were snooping around about Bradley and Nate Keith and everything, I wanted to know how much you knew and if you were actually looking for information on his murder. You would have gotten around to me anyway. I thought I'd look like less of a suspect if I contacted you first,” she explained.
The sirens were loud now, right outside the house. The sheriff was moaning and rocking back and forth on the couch. “Why did you give me those pictures? It was the only thing that linked you to suspicious behavior?”
She shrugged her shoulders a little. She shook slightly, I assumed from fear. “I wanted to destroy whatever you thought John Robert and his parents were. I wanted you to believe that he was conceived in an affair. I wanted you to think badly of Della Ruth.” The pictures, in her mind, would “prove” her little story of Della Ruth sending them to John Robert's supposedly real father.
The door burst open and in came the paramedics and the local police. Immediately, their guns came out of the holsters and shouts of “Freeze!” and “Put the gun down!” came from all directions.
I immediately threw the gun on the floor. “It's the sheriff's gun. This woman drugged our tea,” I said. To which they all looked at me as though I was nuts.
The next day the sheriff was still in the hospital, recuperating. He would be fine, although probably a little ticked at me. I made him throw up early enough and the paramedics got to him soon enough, so he was okay. Not to mention that the doctors said that the amount he drank probably wouldn't have killed him, but he'd have been out for a long time. I'm not sure what Naomi was thinking. Maybe she was going to hack us up or something, while we were unconscious. Who knows? Maybe she just panicked.
I missed my Uncle Jedidiah's funeral because I was in a police station filling out reports. That was okay, though, I'd said my goodbyes already. He would be sorely missed.
Right now his entire family was at the Knights of Columbus Hall in beautiful downtown New Kassel, eating to our hearts' content. This was definitely the type of party that I wanted when the time came for me. Laughing, food, music and young childrenâthe next generation.
Dad and his brother, Melvin, had brought their guitars and equipment and were set up in the front, by the roasted pig, and a cousin filled in on the drums and another cousin filled in on bass and everybody took turns singing and it was just like every gettogether I could ever remember at my grandparents' house. Music and food. Food and music. If you took away the music from this family, you might as well take away the food.
“So, your mother is getting married,” Aunt Sissy said.
I was heavily in a daze watching my father, as I'd watched him at least a thousand times before. “Yes,” I said. “She and the sheriff are supposed to get married in August.”
“And when is your baby due?” she asked.
“August,” I said. “Ought to be an interesting summer, considering my grandmother and I are making a trip to West Virginia in July,” I said.
“Oh Jeez,” she said. “Are you happy for your mother?”
“Yes,” I said. “Anytime a person finds love, be happy for them.”
“Thought you and the sheriff were sworn enemies,” Aunt Sissy said.
“No. I think we're building respect for each other,” I said. “You can't make a guy puke all over a little old lady's house and not bond. You know?”
“Yeah,” she said. “That'll do it.”
“He makes my mom happy,” I said.
Aunt Ruth came over and joined us. “What are you girls talking about? How handsome my brothers look up there playing music?” she asked. I wanted to hit her. She always hated the fact that they played music. That they were “musicians.” They were the white trash of the family, she always said. If, however, they had chosen classical music, that would have been different.
“Actually, Aunt Ruth, I know that you told me never to speak of this again, but I have to tell you this,” I said.
“Torie. I don't want to hear anything on the subject!”
“No. I wanted you to know that you were right. Della Ruth was protecting everybody and herself that day when she sat there with the gun,” I said.
“Torie,” Aunt Ruth pleaded.
“No, now listen.
She
was the intended victim. Naomi Cordieu went there to kill Della Ruth, not Nate Keith,” I said.
“Why?” Aunt Sissy asked.
“A man. Naomi's husband, or he might have just been a fiancé then, I'm not sure, was in love with Della Ruth. He had been since they were kids,” I said. “It seems that Della Ruth was actually considering leaving Nate Keith. Naomi couldn't take the chance on Bradley running off to be with Della Ruth, so she went there to kill her. She killed Nate instead and when she realized what she had done, she ran off.”
“And Bradley,” Aunt Sissy said. “Did he ever know what happened? The truth of it? I knew him. And Naomi. All of us were from the same small town. You know everybody's business in a small town.”
“Yes,” I said. “I think Bradley either knew it or found out later or maybe she confessed it to him. Strangely enough he died very mysteriously in Africa just two years later. My personal opinion is that Naomi killed him, too. Although I can never prove that.”
Aunt Sissy rubbed my back affectionately and smiled, a tear catching in the corner of her eye.
“Well,” Aunt Ruth said. And that was all she said.
I looked across the room and saw Rudy dancing with our two daughters. He had Mary up on his shoulders and Rachel standing on his feet as he danced around, all of them laughing and smiling.
“How lucky I am,” I said.
Aunt Sissy smiled wide. “Yes, you are lucky.”
Somehow, my life had come back to being normal. Everybody would leave for their cities and homes tonight. I'd solved the burning question of who killed Nate Keith. My father and I had reached a certain level of understanding, I think. My mother was happy and getting married, even though I hadn't really faced the thought of life without her in my house. I was in denial, I admit. I was healthy and pregnant and happy about it. The sheriff owed me big time! And tomorrow, Sylvia would get to yell at me about how she was going to have to alter all those dresses for my soon-to-be-rounded figure. Well, more rounded than it already was.
I was content. For now.
A Veiled Antiquity
Family Skeletons
A COMEDY OF HEIRS
. Copyright © 1999 by Lauretta Allen. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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First Edition: August 1999
eISBN 9781466888838
First eBook edition: December 2014