Mama Cracks a Mask of Innocence (7 page)

I was supposed to stay inside the room with Agatha but my curiosity got the best of me. So I left our cousin to enjoy her dinner and joined Mama and the others in the waiting room. As I expected, they were talking about Brenda Long’s murder.

Carrie held center stage. “I know you’d want to know what my niece Opal told me. Opal was in Wesmart one night last week, I don’t remember which night, though. Anyway, she was walking to the back of the store, on her way to the toilet, when she overheard Brenda talking to Tina, one of the other clerks. Now, Opal told me flat out that she wasn’t being nosy or anything, but she did hear Brenda say that the boy who had been sent to prison for stealing from the store last year was back in town.”

“I heard sometime after he was sent to Columbia,” Annie Mae added, “that he told people that when he got out of prison, he was going to cut Brenda’s tongue out.”

Sarah pulled her handkerchief from her purse and
began dabbing her nose with it. “You’re talking about that thieving Clyde Hicks, aren’t you? It’s no secret he had a reason to hurt Brenda Long but he wasn’t the only person who would have wanted to cut her wagging tongue out of her head.” Sarah looked at Mama with what I consider her effort to look innocent. “You know that I ain’t one for passing news about, but I know for a fact that she had something on one of those teachers at the high school. I found out—by accident, mind you—that Brenda sent a letter to the entire school board accusing a teacher of selling drugs to the students. How I know is that my sister’s boy is on the school board. When I stopped by his house the other morning, I overheard him talking to somebody on the phone. He told whoever he was talking to that something is going on at that school and the school board isn’t going to stop until it gets to the bottom of it.”

Mama took a deep breath, a look of concern on her face. She thought for a moment. “Ladies, I did want to ask you something about Clyde Hicks. Do either of you know any of his people, perhaps somebody who can put me in touch with the boy?”

“Dolly,” Annie Mae answered quickly. “Dolly Grayson. She works at the school, one of them women who cleans up after the children.”

“A janitor?” I asked.

“That’s right.” Annie Mae nodded. “Clyde is Dolly’s sister’s youngest boy. She’ll know how to find him for you.”

Mama thanked the women, then asked me to go back in and check on Agatha. When I returned, I gave the report that I knew Mama wanted. “Agatha is fast asleep,” I told them.

“Well, it ain’t no use of us going back in her room to visit with her,” Carrie said, standing. “She’s been asleep most of our visit.”

“It’s the medication,” Sarah volunteered. “The last time I was in the hospital they kept me so doped up I hardly knew who was coming and going.”

I tried not to smile, remembering the last time Sarah was in the hospital. She’d been in a stew because she had succumbed to a scam in which her tax money was stolen. Every time we visited her, she was begging and crying for Mama’s help. It was a far cry from Agatha’s restful demeanor.

To assure Agatha undisturbed rest, Mama suggested we walk out together. Once Carrie’s Buick was out of sight, Mama urged me to hurry. “There are a few phone calls I must make before it gets too late.”

When we got home, Mama headed straight for her bedroom to make her calls. A half hour later she joined me in the kitchen where I was finishing up a cup of southern butter-pecan-flavored coffee and a piece of pineapple upside-down cake.

“I just talked to Hattie,” Mama informed me. “She understands that I’ll need to take the rest of the week off from the office.”

“I figured as much,” I said. “But you know, Sidney allowed me time off to do community service and I
just wouldn’t feel good if I got back to Atlanta and hadn’t seen to it that one family got clothes.”

Mama smiled. “I know what you’re saying, Simone. Tomorrow, after we get Agatha out of the hospital and comfortably situated, I want to go to the high school. Perhaps I can get Dolly to get a message to Clyde Hicks. I really want to talk to that young man. And I did promise Lurena that I’d talk to Stella in an effort to at least clear up whether or not Victor bothered the girl or not. If the girl is as adamant as her mother that she hadn’t been molested, I’ll close that case. I promise, once we get those things done, we’ll get back to distributing the clothes.”

I
n less than an hour after her discharge, we had Agatha at our house, in our spare bedroom, which Mama calls the boys’ room, since she keeps mementos of my brothers on display there.

Before lunch, we were at the high school.

Otis High School is situated on a five-acre piece of property with several trailers behind it. The campus wasn’t like any I’d ever attended, yet being on school grounds reminded me of days that were fun and days when I worked my butt off to cram so that I could get an A or B+ in a subject I hadn’t paid much attention to in class.

The usual glass-filled cases with sports trophies and plaques were kept in the entrance. The walls and ceiling were painted a drab green color, the floor a muddy gray. All very familiar.

The corridor was crowded with students changing class. Ira Manson, Otis’s new deejay, slipped by us, his clothes disheveled, his face bruised, like he’d been in a fight. Mama called to him and he walked toward us, his manner reluctant. “Are you all right?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said, pouting.

“Listen, Ira,” Mama said to him, “this may not be a good time, but I need to ask you about Brenda Long.”

Ira’s eyes grew hostile. “What about Brenda?”

“Do you know whether or not she had a boyfriend?”

His laugh had a nasty tone. “Are you kidding, Miss Candi? No decent boy in the world would get near that holier-than-thou liar. I ain’t saying Brenda deserved to get killed, but I know why whoever did it cut her lying tongue out.”

Mama changed the subject. “I’m looking for Dolly Grayson,” she told him. “Do you have any idea where I can find her?”

“Look in the last room at the end of this hall,” Ira told Mama. “I saw her there a few minutes ago. I’ve got to go home,” he added angrily.

Dolly was a woman who could have been a lot more attractive had it not been for the puckered worry lines in her forehead. She was pulling wads of papers from a crammed desk. “Dolly, can we talk with you for a minute?” Mama asked as we approached.

The woman looked up. “Is that you, Miss Candi?”

“Yes. And this is my daughter, Simone.”

“What are you doing at the school?” Dolly asked.

“I’m looking for you.”

“Me?”

“I wanted to ask you about your nephew Clyde.”

The expression on Dolly’s face changed. “What has he been up to now?”

“I’m not sure,” Mama answered. “But I’d like to talk to him. I stopped by his house on Sunday afternoon. Somebody was at home. I know because I heard the voice of the person who called off an attack from a German shepherd. Simone and I waited for a good while, but nobody ever came out of the house.”

“I’m surprised that dog didn’t tear you to pieces.”

“He almost did,” Mama admitted. “Still, I didn’t get a chance to talk to Clyde.”

“You think he had something to do with that girl they found dead, don’t you?”

“He threatened her quite a bit.”

The frown in Dolly’s forehead deepened. “Clyde didn’t hurt that girl. After all she’d done to him, his heart wouldn’t let him do her any harm!”

“If Clyde doesn’t have anything to hide there’s no reason he wouldn’t want to talk to us.”

“He’s done already talked to Abe and that man from Columbia.”

“When?”

“Yesterday,” Dolly told us. “That deputy, Rick Martin, caught up with Clyde and took him to jail. Abe and the man from Columbia talked with him but they decided
he ain’t had nothing to do with that girl’s murder. Clyde told them he wasn’t nowhere near Otis all last week. My brother’s wife has a sister in North Carolina who is dying with cancer. Clyde left here last Sunday to go see her, and he didn’t get back to town until late Saturday night. Miss Candi, I know Clyde did something our family ain’t proud of, but he wouldn’t have hurt that girl.”

“He threatened her.”

“He just wanted to scare her. Besides,” Dolly argued, “Clyde wasn’t the only one that girl’s wagging tongue hurt. I overheard two of the teachers talking in the lounge. It seems that Brenda Long sent a letter to the school board saying that one of the teachers was selling drugs to the students. Now, if I was that teacher, I’d certainly want to stop talk like that,

don’t you think?”

Mama looked interested. Dolly’s story corroborated what Sarah had told us the night before.

Dolly continued. “I don’t know who that teacher selling drugs is, but I’ve got an idea. If she didn’t do the killing herself, I bet she knows exactly who did.”

“Do you have a teacher in mind?” Mama asked. “Why do you say
she
? Is it a woman?”

“Mind you, this is only speculation—I ain’t got no evidence to prove me right. If I give you a name, you promise not to put it to me or what we’re talking about?”

Mama nodded.

Dolly whispered a few words in Mama’s ear.

“Like I told you, Candi, I ain’t got no proof it’s her. It’s just that I’ve seen something that I don’t quite understand. Now, I know I ain’t had the education like the teachers, but I’ve got common sense, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Mama agreed.

“Common sense tells me that I’ve seen this person do something that doesn’t sit right.”

“What did you see?”

“You promise not to get me involved?”

“I promise.”

“If I was a high school teacher, I’d think twice about having a good time at night with one of my students.”

“Are you talking about a teacher enjoying a basketball or football game with a student?”

“I’m talking about partying down with liquor and other stuff at a club not twenty miles this side of Columbia. Now, I ain’t saying I saw her sell anything but I know for a fact she was acting like she was
stoned
on something!”

“Did you tell Abe this?”

Dolly became apprehensive. “No, and if you tell him what I just told you, I’ll deny saying it. This is my job. I ain’t about to accuse somebody of something that might make me lose it.”

“Listen,” Mama said gently. “I’ll pay this teacher a little visit, just to talk to her. I won’t mention your name or what you just told me. If I find something
out, I won’t let Abe know you put me on to it. How does that sound?”

“As long as my name ain’t mentioned, I don’t care what you do.”

“Good. Now tell me, where does this person live?”

“She’s renting a house near Cypress Creek, less than a half mile from Vera Coffee, your cousin Agatha’s nearest neighbor. Like I said, if you tell her I told you anything, I’ll deny it. This is my job. I’m not doing anything that will cause me to lose it.”

“I promise nothing will be said that will link you to her,” Mama assured her. “By the way, do you know Stella Hope?”

“That girl who is supposed to be sleeping with her stepfather?”

“So that’s already circulated around the campus.” Mama scowled.

Dolly looked embarrassed. “Stella came to school today but ain’t here now,” she told us. “About a half hour ago, somebody started jabbing her about what went on between her and her daddy. That girl went home crying like a baby. I saw her leave myself. Listen, since you’re here, I had to clean out that dead girl’s locker. Got her stuff for her mama. If you don’t mind, how about dropping it off at Tootsie’s house? It’ll save me a trip since I live on the other end of the county. Your house is not too far from hers, ain’t that right?”

“I’ll be glad to drop the things off, but Abe will want to take a look at them first.”

“Abe and that man from SLED already looked at these things. The principal told me to see that they get to Tootsie’s house.”

“I’ll drop them off.”

Dolly walked away. When she returned, she had an armful of textbooks, spiral pads, and looseleaf binders. As she handed me the books, a wallet-sized photograph of three boys standing around a pool table fell out. Mama picked up the picture, glanced at it, then put it in her purse.

“I’ll see to it that Toosie gets these things,” Mama told Dolly.

We went home to check on Agatha. She was sound asleep, and Midnight and Sunshine were quiet.

M
ama called Lurena Powell at her beauty shop. Lurena confirmed that Stella had come home from school early and that the girl was very upset. Lurena agreed with my mother that it was a good time for us to visit her daughter.

Lurena’s house was painted white with black shutters. When we arrived, Stella was looking out the screen door.

She greeted us, opened the door, and invited us inside. We followed her into a large living room with off-white walls. There was a black-and-white couch, a leather recliner, a wooden table behind the couch that had pictures of Stella and her mother, an upholstered chair, and a big-screen television and VCR. There were only two windows in the room;
both looked out onto the porch. The floor was gleaming polished hardwood.