Dying for a Change (22 page)

“
Thanks,” I said, “but not tonight. I’d love a rain check though.”

“
You’ve got it. See you tomorrow morning?”

Dottie’s memorial. Of course. Assuring Pat I’d be there, I headed home.

My exhaustion turned to restlessness the minute I walked through my door. Why hadn’t I taken Pat up on her invitation, I thought, as I listened to the quiet of my house. I needed someone to talk to. The clock told me it was too late to call Aunt Mary. I didn’t know Dan’s home number, and that didn’t feel right anyway. I turned on my TV, but couldn’t get into David Letterman. Finally I made myself a cup of Susannah’s Blackberry tea, took it, Jake, and my newest library book up to bed. The red light on my answering machine was blinking. I’m not pushing that button, I thought, not after the last time. Curiosity was too strong, and finally I reached out and pressed it. It was the TV station, saying they’d been trying to find me for two days. They wanted an interview. I thought about it for a minute, then moved Jake off my pillow, climbed in and opened my book. So much for fame.

When I woke it was a bright, sunny, Saturday morning. A quick check of Susannah’s room showed her still asleep, an extra quit pulled up around her head. I turned up the heat, put Jake out, and started the coffee.

A glance at the clock told me it wasn’t too early to call Aunt Mary. I caught her going out the door.

“
I’m going to the church to help get everything ready for Dottie’s memorial service. I’ve ordered flowers in both out names. You owe me twenty-five dollars. We’re only going to have coffee, brownies, that kind of thing. I think that will be all right.”

Since neither Dottie’s family nor Dottie would be attending, I thought it was more than all right. I wasn’t sure we needed to send flowers. Who were we sending them too? But some things never change, so flowers and brownies we would have.

I contented myself with saying, “I’ve got several things to tell you, but they can wait. I’ll see you right after the service.” I wanted to ask what she was wearing, but decided to wait and see. Surprise is so much more fun.

Susannah came yawning down the stairs. I started to say good morning when the phone rang. It was Dan.

“
Ellie, sorry I didn’t get to call you yesterday, but life’s been a little hectic. How’d you like the Little Playhouse meeting?”

“
How did you know?”

“
Listen,” he said, ignoring my question. “I only have a minute. Are you doing anything tonight? I have two tickets for the jazz concert at the Performing Arts Center. Want to go?”

“
Sure.” I was caught completely off guard. Why did I feel like a high school girl being asked on her first date? Or nowadays is it junior high? “That sounds wonderful. Ah, what time...”

“
Early. I thought we’d have dinner over on the coast first. About six? One condition though.”

Here it came. “What condition?”

“
No murders, Okay? No talk of murder, no thinking of murder. I’m up to my--elbows in these murders and I need a night off.”

I laughed, agreed, and hung up.

Susannah stood in the middle of the kitchen, wrapped in the quilt, which spilled from her shoulders to pool on the floor. She kicked it aside and plopped down in one of the chairs.

“
What was that all about?”

Suddenly I was stricken with guilt, and turned away to hide my face. Susannah, my only child, had come home to spend the weekend with her mother, and I had accepted a date! With a man not her father!

“
That was Dan Dunham. Remember? I told you about him.” I tried to hide behind the orange juice pitcher. “He wants me to go to a jazz concert with him tonight. Do you want eggs or cereal?”

“
The guy who used to live next door when you were growing up?”

I nodded miserably, trying to think what kind of excuse I could give Dan for not going with him.

“
He asked you out?”

“
Yes, but...”

“
Way to go, Mom.” Susannah reached for the cereal box.

“
You don’t mind?” I was frozen with surprise, pitcher halfway to the table. Susannah reached up, took it from me and poured a glass.

“
Of course not. It’s way past time you started seeing someone. You’re not married anymore, you know. And you still look pretty good.” She took a large swallow and shuddered. “Ugh, sour,” She set the glass on the table and went on. “You were great the whole time Dad was playing around, and you were terrific during the divorce. Now it’s your turn.”

I sank into a chair opposite her, amazed. How long had she known about her father’s extracurricular activities? Should I have protected her more? Was she scarred for life? All this was swirling through my head when Susannah calmly announced, “Besides, Neil asked me out, so now I won’t have to worry about you being alone. Do we have any English muffins?”

So much for being scarred. I stuck muffins in the toaster.

“
I’m going to Dottie’s memorial service, “ I had one eye on the clock, the other on this surprising daughter who was slicing a banana on her cereal. “Do you want to come?”

“
No, thanks. I’ve got a bunch of homework, and I need to finish up that laundry so I’ll be free tonight. Do you want anything washed? Susannah smiled at me much too knowingly.

I muttered, “I don’t think so,” and, munching my own muffin, went upstairs to shower and change, a mass of conflicting emotions.

The memorial service was short, but moving. Several people told incidents from Dottie’s life, including the rector, who had known her well. The choir did a beautiful job, and one of the members of the Little Playhouse sang “Amazing Grace”, Dottie’s favorite hymn.

I tried to catch Aunt Mary in the church hall as she buzzed by. I got Pat instead, who handed me a cup of coffee.

“
I understand our kids are going out tonight. I haven’t seen Neil this smitten since he had a crush on his third grade teacher.”

“
My mother used to say one of the nicest things about small town living was you always knew who your daughter was dating.” I smiled at the thought “She was talking about families, of course. I never thought it was so wonderful, but now I see what she meant.”

“
I think it’s one of those things that can be a curse or a joy. It depends on which side of the generation gap you’re on.”

Aunt Mary appeared, carrying a tray of brownies, which she set on the already overloaded dessert table.

“
What are you two giggling about? Excellent service. Dottie would have been pleased.”

“
Come over here. We’ve got things to tell you.”

I pulled her away toward a quiet corner followed by an awestruck Pat. I couldn’t blame her. Today, Aunt Mary had outdone herself. She had on a vivid magenta silk dress topped with a huge lace collar she’d fastened with a beautiful old cameo pin I thought I recognized as my Grandmother’s. Her stockings were white, her shoes lime green, with straps. She was wearing the same hat that had gone to Hank’s funeral, only now it was topped with bright red plastic cherries. The effect took some getting used to.

She listened carefully until I finished. “I don’t think that’s much. So Benjamin knew Tom had a gun. The young idiot. Why people think they need to keep guns in unlocked places... Anyway, just because Benjamin knew where it was doesn’t mean he took it. Besides, if Tom talked that freely, plenty of others must have known about it. Ray certainly did, not that I think he’d have the gumption. No, we still don’t have any reason, any factual reason for Benjamin to want to kill Dottie.” She paused, looked thoughtful for a moment before she went on. “I have to admit, though, he’s sure been busy giving himself a motive for Hank’s death. I still think there’s some kind of link between Hank and Dottie we’re not seeing, and when Dan,” she paused again, and gave me another meaningful look, “finds it, he’ll find the real murderer.”

Aunt Mary hustled off toward the kitchen, picking up an empty coffee pot on her way.

“
She’s really something.” Pat took my empty cup and stacked it with her own on the dirty dish tray. “Not too subtle though. I think she wants you to quit snooping.”

“
I haven’t been snooping. I’ve only come up with a couple of theories. Besides, I found both bodies. It’s a little hard not to feel involved. She’s the one who keeps saying it couldn’t be Tom Chandler.”

“
I wonder if Dan knows about Tom’s fight with Kevin.

“
If he doesn’t, he’ll find out.”

“
It’s too bad Tom couldn’t have chosen another time to flatten the little creep,” Pat observed, looking at her watch. “I’ve got to go. One of Carl’s assistants is home with flu, he had an emergency surgery, and I’m supposed to be answering phones. Call me.”

People were drifting away, and it seemed a good time for me to leave as well. I caught sight of Ray getting into his Lincoln. He had sat through the service wooden faced, while Sharon, several rows behind him, had once or twice looked like she was going to lose control. There was no sign of Tom or Nicole. I didn’t like to think what that meant.

I needed to pick up some information for my appointment with Alice Ives tomorrow, so headed for the office. I found myself wanting all my errands done, so I would be home in plenty of time to go through my closet. I had no idea what I was going to wear tonight, and was sorely irritated by the fact that I cared.

Dan, I thought crossly. Aunt Mary certainly had a lot of confidence in him, but right now I couldn’t see why. He seemed to have made up his mind Tom was guilty of both murders, and neither Aunt Mary nor I agreed with him. Tonight I’d ask him--damn. We’d agreed. No talk of murder. Tonight. Clothes. Hum. Perhaps something new? I’d just stop in at the Emporium, and if I ran into Benjamin, well, what would be more natural than a little conversation?

I was in luck. There was Benjamin, waiting on a harried looking young woman with three small children in tow. Evidently she’d been buying shoes, as the oldest, a boy about five, was admiring his feet encased in new, high topped black tennis shoes. She was trying to shove a bulky parcel in the backpack attached to a stroller, placate the screaming baby is contained, and keep her toddler from pulling over the rack of ties she was fingering thoughtfully. She finally got herself and her charges to the door, which I held open for her. She flashed me a tired and somewhat embarrassed smile, murmured, “thanks,” and escaped.

“
My.” I returned to the shoe department and a dejected looking Benjamin. “That really takes me back. Every pair of shoes I had when I was little came from here. I can’t remember ever going anywhere else.”

A slight exaggeration, actually a pretty large one, but I needed something to get a conversation going. It worked, too. Benjamin replied sadly. “Young people today don’t think like that, what with new stores and all the rest of the tomfoolery goin’ on in this town.”

“
Don’t be silly. You’ll still have tons of customers, even if Stop N Shop does come.” I cast a surreptitious glance at the miserable selection and the empty aisleways, and knew I’d lied.

“
I don’t know, Ellen. This town’s changin’, and it’s not for the best. Makes me so angry I could burst. You lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?”

“
Well, a sweater maybe, sort of dressy...” I stopped, appalled, as Benjamin pulled a blue denim colored thing, dripping with silver fringe, off the rack.

“
This’d look real good on you, Ellen. They tell me women really like this stuff right now. Got boots?”

“
Maybe something a little less—ah—conspicuous.” Staring at that sweater made me feel I should burst into a chorus of “Stand By Your Man” any minute. I mentally flipped through my closet once more.

Benjamin snorted and shoved the sweater back on the rack. “See, even you, Ellen. No pleasin’ anyone anymore. I suppose when that new store comes you’ll desert me too. Everyone wants new, something’ different. Look at Sharon Harper. Comes back to town, takes over her father’s perfectly good office, an office folks could trust, and starts changin’ things. Development, she calls it.” He was flipping sweaters back and forth on the rack, faster and faster as he got more agitated. “First that big market, now this Stop N Shop, and I hear tell now she wants some big chain restaurant here. What’s wrong with the bowling alley coffee shop, that’s what I want to know? All this changin’ things, gets folks riled up, confused, then terrible things happen.”

“
What kind of terrible things?” I held my breath; sure Benjamin was worked up enough to let something slip. “You mean like what happened to Hank and Dottie?”

“
Hank was a good friend of mine, and I’ll miss him, but he never should’ve tried to vote for that darn store. Real sad.”

Now we were getting somewhere, I thought. “How about Dottie?”

“
Dottie Fielding?” Benjamin peered at me, a cagey look creeping over his face. “Dottie was a nosy woman, never could leave well enough alone in all the years I knew her. Guess she got herself in the middle of something she couldn’t get out of. You goin’ to buy somethin’ or not, Ellen. I ain’t got all day to stand here and gossip with women, you know.”

I remembered just in time he was an old man, and a not too rational one. “I’ll look a little more,” and moved the sweaters around. Benjamin scurried off. As soon as he was out of sight, I escaped to the sanctuary of my car. I sat for a few minutes, trying to swallow my indignation as well as digest our conversation. The old reprobate! I was more and more sure he was the leading candidate for Hank, but still had to find out why Dottie? Nosy woman. That sounded like my theory could be correct. If Dottie had been trying to keep Benjamin from talking to the land partners, if she had been trying to stop him from telling lies, ‘nosy’ would be the kindest thing he’d say. But would he, did he, do anything? I sighed as I started my engine. I wished I knew what Dan was doing, what he was thinking. I wouldn’t find out tonight. But there was always tomorrow. With that cheery thought, I headed for the office.