J
ohnny stopped by the office shortly before time for the funeral. He wore a dark suit, white shirt, and string tie. He was absolutely handsome. Kathleen couldn’t move her eyes away from him.
“I know enough to dress up for a funeral,” he said defensively.
“I was just thinking that you clean up pretty well.”
“Hazel asked me to be a pallbearer.”
“She told me this morning. She’s worried there’ll not be very many at the funeral.”
“Clara’s reputation was not the best.”
“Adelaide and I will be there . . . for Hazel and Emily.”
“I’ll go with Eldon.” He stopped at the door and looked back. “You clean up good, too.” He winked at her.
Kathleen’s heart hammered, and a fluttering sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. She had wanted to look nice today because she knew she would see him. She wore a navy blue dress of soft material, its full skirt gathered onto the bodice. A wide sash with small, light blue flowers circled her waist and tied on the side. Her hair, bright from a rainwater washing, curled softly about her face and shoulders. Around her neck was a silver chain and hanging from it a small locket.
The church was half-filled when Kathleen and Adelaide arrived. It was a testimony to Hazel’s standing in the community. The service was an opportunity for the preacher to preach a “hellfire and brimstone” sermon, and he took full advantage of it.
When it was finally over, the congregation stood while the casket was wheeled out followed by Hazel and Emily. The mourners quickly left the church to follow the hearse to the cemetery. It was then that Kathleen saw Dr. Herman helping Hazel and Emily into the backseat of a big black car. Louise Munday was with him.
“Look at that . . . that hypocrite,” Kathleen exclaimed.
“He plays every angle. That’s how he keeps his popularity up.”
“He knows damn well that girl was murdered.”
“Like I said . . . this is his town, and he’ll not have it soiled by a murder.”
“It’s more likely that he’s afraid he’ll get a Federal Marshal in here.”
At the gravesite Sheriff Carroll and another man stepped forward to help Johnny and the undertaker carry the casket to its final resting place. Kathleen seethed to see Dr. Herman and Louise flanking Hazel and Emily as they stood beside the gaping hole to watch Clara’s body being lowered into the ground.
Poor little Emily. Kathleen remembered her own anguish as she stood with her grandparents at her mother’s burial. It was a consolation to know that Emily’s life would not be as disrupted as hers had been. The child had not been attached to Clara as a child is normally attached to her mother. In time she would forget the bad things about her mother and remember only the times when Clara came home bringing presents.
Dr. Herman and Louise stood by as if they were family while the mourners came to express their sympathy to Hazel then shake hands with the doctor. After hugging Hazel, Kathleen stooped down to whisper to Emily.
“Your grandma is so lucky to have you, Sugarpuss. You’ll take care of her, and she’ll take care of you. After a while it will not hurt so much. I’ll see you tonight.”
Kathleen straightened, looked directly into Dr. Herman’s eyes, but didn’t offer her hand as the others had done. She met the eyes of the smirking woman who stood beside him. Louise was a half head taller than the doctor even with his hat on. She wore a black coat with a huge silver fox collar. Attached to her small black hat was a black-dotted veil that came down to her penciled brows. On her face was the usual heavy coat of makeup.
Kathleen looked at the woman, and needing to do something to show her contempt, rolled her eyes in a derisive gesture. Louise’s cheeks became suffused with color, her balled gloved fists evidence of her surprised anger.
Johnny was waiting beside the car when they reached it.
“Are you going to the house?”
“No. I told Hazel this morning that we’d not come.”
Johnny held open the passenger-side door, plainly indicating that he was going to drive. Kathleen dug into her purse for the keys. He stilled her hand and, dangling her extra set between his thumb and forefinger, smirked at her.
“The extra set wouldn’t do much good if you can’t keep track of them.”
“You’re . . . sneaky!” She slid onto the seat, moved to the middle to make room for Adelaide, removed her hat, and looped her hair behind her ear with trembling fingers.
Lord! Why do I get the trembles when I’m with him?
Johnny’s hand brushed her knee when he grasped the round ball handle on the gearshift. Her shoulder was behind his, her hip tight against him. It was such a wonderful feeling to be sitting close to him that Kathleen had to caution herself not to be giddy.
“Dr. Herman and Louise were acting like family,” Kathleen said in order to occupy her mind with something other than the man beside her. “He’s got a lot of nerve. I’ve never heard Hazel even mention him.”
“He wasn’t there for Hazel. He was there to show the public how much he
cared
.” Adelaide’s tone was heavily sarcastic.
“I took the pictures down to Vernon yesterday to show Keith. He agrees that Clara was not hit by a car. A car going forty miles an hour would have tossed her into the ditch, but wouldn’t have crushed her windpipe and knocked her teeth out.”
“The next question,” Adelaide said, “is why. She wasn’t raped, or was she?”
“Eldon said there was no evidence that she was.” Johnny parked the car in front of the
Gazette
, turned, and put his arm across the back of the seat. “Whoever killed her was in a rage. She wasn’t just run over. She was beaten up in a car because there was very little blood at the scene. Afterward he pushed her out of the car, then ran over her as she lay in the road. To be sure that she was dead, he stopped the car and got out. She was still alive, probably trying to get up. He pushed her over and stomped on her back. She may have yelled. That’s when he stomped on her neck and crushed her windpipe. After that he dragged her into the ditch.”
“That makes sense,” Kathleen said proudly. “You’d make a good detective, Johnny.”
“Yeah? I thought about it, but I don’t like living in the city.”
“Oh, dear, there’s Hannah, and she’s drunk again.” Adelaide opened the car door.
Johnny’s hand slipped from the back of the seat and squeezed Kathleen’s shoulder. His arm tightened for just an instant before he withdrew it and got out of the car.
“I’ll take her home, Adelaide. Keep her here while I get my truck.”
“No need for that, Johnny,” Kathleen said quickly. “Take my car.”
Johnny went to where Hannah was leaning against the building.
“Come on, Hannah. I’ll take you home.”
“Baby—” She looked up at Johnny with big sad eyes. “Baby, baby,” she babbled.
She had once been a pretty girl. Now her face was ravaged and gray streaked her raven black hair. Her dress was well worn, but clean.
“Where is your baby, Hannah?” Kathleen asked.
“Baby . . . gone . . . gone—” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Did your baby die?” Kathleen asked insistently. Then repeated the question. “Did your baby die?”
Hannah continued to babble and tried to pull away from Johnny, who was holding her up.
“Johnny will take you home,” Adelaide said soothingly. “He’s a nice man, Hannah. He won’t hurt you.”
“Whis . . . key—”
“I think you’ve had enough,” Johnny said kindly as he tried to steer her toward the car.
“Leave her alone!”
Kathleen jerked her head around at the belligerent tone and saw the sheriff hurrying toward them.
“Don’t you dare arrest her and put her in your rotten jail so that . . . that pervert of a deputy can molest her. Don’t you dare!”
“Shut her up!” Sheriff Carroll said to Johnny.
“She can say what she wants, and I’ll back her up.”
“Hannah’s drunk, Pete,” Adelaide said. “Johnny’s going to take her home.”
“Hannah, you . . . promised.”
Kathleen’s sharp ears heard the murmured remark.
“I’ll take her home.” Pete elbowed Johnny out of the way and put his arm around Hannah to hold her up.
“Where is she getting the whiskey?” Adelaide asked.
“I don’t know, but when I find out, somebody’s head’s goin’ to roll.” The sheriff guided Hannah across the sidewalk to the car and opened the door.
“No, Pete—”
“Get in, Hannah.” Pete eased her down on the seat, lifted her feet to the floor of the car, and closed the door. Without a word, he got under the wheel and drove away.
Paul got up from Adelaide’s desk when they entered the office and helped her off with her coat.
“Where’s Judy?” Adelaide asked, when she heard a familiar sound coming from the back room.
“At the linotype machine,” Paul grinned. “I’ve been showing her how to use it. She’s a smart kid.”
“Forevermore! She’ll hurt herself with that hot lead.”
“No, she won’t, mother hen,” Paul said affectionately. “She’ll be careful.”
“I hope so. Landsakes, whatever caused you to let her touch your precious machine?”
“She’s at the age to learn things, honey. Her mind is like a sponge. That girl needs to know that someone has confidence in her.”
“Paul darlin’, you’re right as usual.”
“Of course, I am. Remember that the next time we get into an argument.” He hung her coat on the hall tree. “Were there very many at the funeral?”
“Hazel’s friends turned out. Doc and Louise were there being very solicitous of Hazel and Emily. Kathleen, did you see the spray of fresh gladiolas? They must have come in on the bus from a greenhouse and must have cost four or five dollars. Who around here has that kind of money to spend on flowers?”
“Doc Herman.”
“But why would he send flowers to Clara Ramsey’s funeral?”
“It looked to me like he was trying to throw up a smoke screen. It was overdone. He probably sent the big ham I saw this morning on Hazel’s kitchen table. The show-off!”
“Smoke screen? You think he could have killed her? What reason would he have?”
“Maybe they were . . . ah maybe he was . . . you know—”
“I doubt that it was Doc’s car that ran over Clara, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Johnny said. “His car was the only big one at the cemetery beside the hearse. The tread on his tires is a different shape. Does Louise Munday have a car?”
Adelaide answered. “An Oldsmobile.”
“If I get a chance, I’ll take a look at the tires.”
“Louise was dressed to kill,” Adelaide said.
“She looked like a moose in that big fur collar.” Kathleen broke into laughter. “It was really catty of me to say that.” Her eyes flashed to Johnny and found him watching her with a sweet and tender smile on his quiet face. She couldn’t look away and became lost in depths of his dark eyes. Only Paul’s voice talking about Hannah brought her back to the present.
“Hannah came to the door, but she was too drunk to open it. I didn’t help her because I was afraid it might cause problems if someone came in and found her in here alone with me.
Adelaide explained that just as Johnny was getting ready to take her home, the sheriff arrived.
“Did you notice how gentle he was with her?” Kathleen asked. “He was that way the other night. She called him Pete. Isn’t that what he was called when he was young?”
“They knew each other quite well at one time, but Pete’s mother was dead set against him having anything to do with an Indian, even a half-breed Cherokee whose daddy had a large spread and a good herd of cattle at one time. Heck Lawson was well respected in the town, even if he did have an Indian wife. He lost most of his land during the twenties and died shortly after.”
“Where does Hannah live?”
“Out on the edge of town with her mother and a brother who works at the tannery.”
“She isn’t married?”
“Never has been as far as I know.”
“Who was the father of the baby she had just before I got here?”
Adelaide lifted her shoulders. “Who knows.”
“Last night I asked Hazel about the baby Clara had a year ago. She said Doc Herman told Clara that it was dead when he took it from her and that it was badly deformed. He put it in a box and had it buried on the lot beside Hazel’s husband. Hazel felt bad that it didn’t get a proper burial.”
“A plank with the word
baby
and the date is there. I saw it while I was helping Eldon,” Johnny said.
“And shortly after Clara had that baby she had enough money to leave town.”
“I’d like to know what’s in the box buried out there by Sam Ramsey,” Adelaide said.