12
“Mrs. Dawson! Good morning! Annie turned to see Pastor Wallace standing under one of the enormous oaks that, in the summertime, shaded the church grounds. He was leaning on a rake beside an impressive pile of red and brown leaves.
“Good morning, Pastor Wallace.” She hurried over to him. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And what can I do for you today?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure if there’s anything you can do. I happened to be out at Tom Maxwell’s house a while ago, and I was wondering how well you know him and his wife.”
“Not very well. I’ve called on them a couple of times and told them both we’d love to have them here at Stony Point Community, but he said they do their worship in private. He was polite enough, but didn’t give me much chance to offer more than a standing invitation.”
“Yes, he told me he’d met you.” Annie smiled at him. “He said you’re a nice guy.”
He winked at her. “Word’s getting out. But seriously, I don’t know much about either of them. He told me they keep to themselves mostly, and that seems to be exactly what they do.”
“That’s what he told me too. Anyway, I wanted to ask you about Sandy.”
“Mrs. Maxwell?” He took a handkerchief from his back pocket, mopped his face and the balding top of his head, and then gestured to a nearby stone bench. “My old hip is acting up again.”
“You should have some of the boys out here doing this.” Annie sat next to him. “Couldn’t the youth group—”
“Oh, they do. Year-round, they do a wonderful job of keeping the grounds tidy. And our men’s group helps out as well—regular as clockwork.” He smiled ruefully. “And sometimes I think I’m twenty years younger than I am and try to do their jobs for them.”
Annie returned that smile that twinkled in his eyes. “And do you let them preach your sermons for you?”
He chuckled. “Point taken, but I couldn’t help myself. When God makes a day like this, it seems like a sin not to go out and enjoy it.”
Annie breathed in as much of the cold, clean air as she could hold and then let it out again. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? It reminds me of when I was out at the Maxwells’. They have a wonderful garden, even this time of year. That seems to be Sandy’s main hobby.”
“Yes, she did mention that when I met her. It was about all she said.”
“That’s exactly what worries me. She’s so isolated out there, and she seems a little, well, a little scared. OK, maybe
scared
isn’t quite the word, but she does seem anxious about something. And it only got worse when her husband came home unexpectedly and found me and Alice McFarlane there.”
“Oh my. He didn’t threaten you, did he?”
“No, nothing like that, but I could tell it made Sandy more nervous than she was before. I just don’t know if I should be concerned about her or not. She seemed healthy enough and everything. Alice says maybe we were just there at a bad time.”
“That’s possible, of course. I’ve had to remind myself of the very same thing when I make calls sometimes. Despite my best efforts, I don’t always manage to show up at the most convenient moment. Did you go to see the Maxwells for a reason?”
“I wanted to see where my friend Susan used to live.”
“Ah, the one you’ve been asking about.”
Annie laughed. “I think everybody in town knows that by now, thanks to Peggy Carson.”
“Peggy means well,” he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
“Oh, I know she does. It’s nice of her to ask around too. Working at The Cup & Saucer, she comes in contact with a lot more people than I do. I guess you knew Susan, right?”
“Not really. Not well, anyway. She had been at school when I first came to Stony Point and had just come back here to live when her parents passed away. She was … she was different after that.” A sadness came into his eyes. “No, I take that back. She was different before that. I realize New York is a big place, and it’s not surprising that a young woman might leave behind some of her small-town ways. And after all, I had not known that much about her in the first place, except what her mother and father happened to mention from time to time. But from what I had seen of her, she had always been rather quiet, maybe a little shy.”
Annie nodded. “I always thought so. I could never imagine her being on the stage on Broadway in front of huge audiences, but I guess some people are like that, singers and actors and dancers. They can do anything as long as they get to be someone else while they’re doing it.”
Pastor Wallace smiled. “Every now and then, I get a little tongue-tied myself one-on-one, but I feel perfectly at home behind the pulpit. I can see Susan being that way.”
“But you said she was different when she came back here to live. What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Just not quite the girl I remembered. She seemed very concerned with her clothing and with her status, and not very friendly with the people here in town.”
“That doesn’t sound much like the Susan I knew. But she had been on Broadway after I knew her, and her Aunt Kim worked for a fashion magazine. I guess it’s a whole different world when you’re always rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. Oh, and I found out that Susan’s aunt died just a short while before her parents did. Did you know about that at the time?”
“I seem to remember something like that. I guess that could explain some of it, though she seemed more distant than sad, if you ask me. Her mother asked me to talk to her. She said she had been worried about Susan and couldn’t get her to say much of anything. But it was no use. Susan wouldn’t talk to me, either.”
“Did her mother say why she was worried about her?”
“Not specifically. Of course, she was thinking of getting married at the time, and it could have been just uncertainty about making that kind of a commitment. It’s hard to say.” Again there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Especially since twenty years have passed since then.”
“Did you ever meet her fiancé, Archer Prescott?”
“Only once. He came to talk to me about having the wedding in the church. He seemed eager to have it here with Susan’s family and everything, but then she told me she hadn’t decided what she wanted to do. Neither of them talked to me about it again, but I got the impression that our little church wasn’t quite the venue she was looking for. I understand they had decided to have a big wedding out of state.”
“That was the plan.” Annie couldn’t help feeling sorry that Susan and her Prince Charming had never made it to the altar. “I wish I knew what was going on with her back then. I wish I had stayed in touch with her, especially after her mom and dad were gone.”
“I think she left Stony Point rather soon after that. A few weeks, I think. I never spoke to her again once the funeral was over. I tried to, but she never returned my calls.”
“Poor Susan, it must have been hard for her. You don’t—” Annie bit her lip, not liking the thought that came into her mind. “You don’t think she might have drowned herself on purpose, do you?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible, but I couldn’t say that from the limited contact I had with her.”
“But with all her family gone so suddenly, maybe she was overwhelmed and didn’t know what she was doing.”
“And yet she was getting married and marrying a man of considerable wealth and position. Besides all the material things, from everything I heard, he would have done anything for her, and she was swept off her feet by him. It’s what every young woman dreams of. Or so I’m told.”
Annie exhaled. “That’s what I heard too. It seems such a shame.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be more help to you about Susan. It’s been a long while, and the old memory isn’t what it used to be. Still, let’s not miss the opportunity to help those who are with us now. If you think Mrs. Maxwell is in trouble, I can contact the authorities for you. No one need know that you said anything at all.”
Annie shook her head. “I just don’t think it’s as serious as that. I’d like to talk to her again.”
“I should have stayed in touch with her.” Pastor Wallace kicked at a bright yellow leaf that had blown against the bench. “Of course, some women in bad situations never admit they’re in trouble.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ll definitely try to talk to her again.”
“And let me know if there’s anything you want me to do. I’ll be more than happy to go with you, if you’d like.”
“No, I don’t want her to feel like we’re ganging up on her. Let me just go over and have a chat with her, woman to woman.” Annie stood up and pulled her coat more closely around herself. “The best thing you can do is pray that everything is all right and that I will know what to do if it’s not.”
Pastor Wallace stood, too, and gave her hand a warm little squeeze. “I’ll certainly do that. You let me know if I can help.”
****
Annie ducked her head against the wind as she walked back to the bank to get her car. It seemed colder all of a sudden.
Of course, some women never admit it when they’re in trouble. Was that true of Sandy Maxwell? Had it been true of Susan too?
No one had ever suggested that Susan’s death might be suicide, but it was possible, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it possible that, behind the facade of a fashion-conscious sophisticate, she had been desperately lonely? That she had been grieving for her aunt and her parents, and had never admitted it to anyone? Not even to Archer Prescott?
Surely he would have said something if he suspected she had taken her own life. Or maybe the thought was too painful for him to face. She hated to bring it up to him. Obviously, the memory of Susan’s death was still a difficult one. If she—
“Annie!”
Annie turned to see Mary Beth hurrying toward her. “Hi!”
“Do you have your cell phone with you today?”
Annie wrinkled her forehead. “In my purse. Why?”
“I got those new screws for my cabinets, and Tom Maxwell’s at the shop putting them in right now. He should be busy for the rest of the day, but I want to make sure I can call you if he leaves for some reason.”
Annie grinned and grabbed her phone. “OK. It’s charged and turned on. I’m going to run out and talk to Sandy Maxwell, if she’ll let me. But you’ve absolutely got to let me know if Tom leaves the shop—deal?”
“Deal. Are you sure you shouldn’t take Alice with you? Or Ian?”
“As long as you keep an eye on Tom, I’ll be fine. Besides, if I wait to get Alice in on this, I might miss my opportunity.”
“OK. You keep your phone on and with you, and I’ll watch things here. And you call me when you’re on the way back.”
Mary Beth shook a cautioning finger at her, and Annie couldn’t hold back a smile.
“I promise. Now you’d better let me get going before Tom decides he needs a monkey wrench or something from home.”
“Scoot, then. I should get back before he wonders where I am.”
“Kate’s there, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but I don’t like to leave her there alone.” There was reluctant concern in Mary Beth’s eyes. “Just in case.”
“We’d better both get going.” Annie got into her car and started the engine. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Do you want me to drop you back at the shop?”
“Better not. If he sees you, he might think something suspicious is going on. It’s just a few doors down. Hurry up now.”
The bank was on the corner of Main and Elm, so all Annie had to do was drive around the corner and head straight to the Maxwells’ home. A few minutes later she had the house in sight, and she was in luck. Sandy was out front getting a package and some letters from the mailbox.
When she saw Annie, she glanced back toward the house as if she was deciding whether or not she could disappear into it. But Annie was quick to pull up beside her.
“Hello there. I hope you’ll forgive me for dropping by again, but we never really did get a chance to talk. Do you have a few minutes?”
Sandy glanced toward the house again. “I shouldn’t really—”
“Just for a minute.” Annie smiled encouragingly. “I promise I don’t bite.”
She could feel the wind whip through the trees and noticed Sandy pulling her jacket closer to her neck.
“I bet it’s warmer in the house than it is out here.”
“Yeah.” Sandy’s expression softened just the tiniest bit. “You’d better come in.”
Annie pulled up in the drive and got out of the car. “Brr. It wasn’t bad outside just a little while ago, but now I’m wondering if we’re going to get some more snow.”
“Maybe you’d better not stay long if the weather is getting bad.”
Annie scurried into the house behind her reluctant hostess. “I won’t.”
Sandy showed her into the small sitting room at the front of the house. It was cozy, warmed with a bright fire in the hearth and furnishings from the early 1800s. Annie smiled as she ran her hand over the old school desk that stood in one corner.
“This looks just like one my friend used to have when she lived here.” Looking closer, she saw that the letters EWB were carved into the top. “This is the same one. I’m sure of it. Susan and I used to try to figure out what the initials stood for.”
Sandy perched on the edge of a ladder-back chair that looked to be of an age with the desk. “That’s not surprising. Most of this stuff was in the house when we bought it. I’d guess that the previous owners bought it furnished too.”
“You’re probably right. Susan wouldn’t have needed a houseful of furniture.”
“Not where she was going.”
Annie turned to look at her. “Where she was going?”
“I—my husband said he’s heard people talking in town, asking about your friend and saying she went off to marry a rich man. I guess she wouldn’t have wanted stuff like this in some fancy family mansion.”
“Probably not.”
“It seems like it all should be here anyway.” There was again something tentative in Sandy’s smile. “It belongs with the house.”
“Susan would be glad to know things are still the same as when she lived here.”
“Is that what you came to talk to me about?”
“No. Not really. I mean, I appreciate your letting me come in for a minute. It brings back some really happy memories from when Susan and I played here.”
“I’m glad.”
Annie returned her smile, but Sandy quickly looked away.