Mama Pursues Murderous Shadows (15 page)

“Miss Candi,” he said, extending a hand to Mama as she climbed out of the car. His voice came out as a deep rasp.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Mama said courteously, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it.

Herman invited us into his house. It was hot inside; the window air conditioner wasn’t turned on. Although the room was smartly furnished in peach and burgundy, it was clear that it hadn’t been cleaned for weeks. Everything smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, and sour musk. If Betty Jo had enjoyed Ruby Spikes’s house, she’d done little in her housekeeping to prove it.

“I couldn’t help but wonder,” Mama began, once we’d been seated, “whether or not you suspected that Betty Jo wasn’t feeling well that night, before you went to bed.”

Herman rocked back on his heels. “You’re asking me questions, huh?” he said. I could see that his eyes were bloodshot. “If there weren’t so many spiteful people in this town talking things they don’t know nothing about,” he slurred, his big hands trembling. He paused as if he was trying to remember what Mama had asked him. “Betty Jo was healthy as a horse—never complained of anything.” Then, as if
he’d just decided that he should do something more, he urged, “Go in there and see where she slept!”

I wasn’t surprised when Mama accepted his invitation and walked into his bedroom. Herman stumbled behind me as I followed her.

The room was beautifully decorated. A full-length mirror stood in one corner. There was a writing desk with a cushioned chair. The four-poster bed that I assumed Betty Jo had died in was king sized, with a dark mahogany headboard. All the bedding had been stripped from the mattress.

Herman leaned against the bedpost, looking bewildered. “Miss Candi, I don’t know. When I found her, she looked like she was dreaming.”

The closet door was open. From where I was standing, I could see dresses, blouses, and jackets. Thrown haphazardly on the floor in a heap were shoes. There was a garment bag. I wondered whether or not Betty Jo had had a chance to try on everything in Ruby’s closet.

“I slept good myself,” Herman continued. “But I told Abe that Betty Jo was having trouble getting to sleep, that she took something, that whatever she took helped her ’cause when I got up to go to the bathroom I heard Betty Jo snoring. I remember that, all right.”

“I suppose Abe told you that he’d finally gotten the autopsy on Ruby.”

Herman’s eyes blinked rapidly. “I told Abe and I’m telling you. I don’t know nothing about Ruby
dying! I was locked up in the Otis Motel with Betty Jo that whole night!”

“I know,” Mama said, stepping into the adjoining bathroom. I stayed close behind her. Towels, washcloths, and clothes were tossed all over the floor.

Suddenly Herman’s eyes flickered toward the clothes on the bathroom floor. His expression changed, like he was ashamed of the mess we were looking at. He stepped in front of Mama and motioned us back toward the living room. I was surprised at how calm and deliberate he now seemed, as if he was sober. “I don’t know what’s come over me,” he said apologetically. “A bedroom ain’t no place to entertain women who came to pay their last respects to the dead!”

Mama studied him for a moment in silence, then she turned and headed out of the room. “I suppose you’re right,” she agreed.

We said good-bye to Herman Spikes, who didn’t bother to hide his relief at seeing us go.

“Why are we going to Susy Mets’s house?” I asked Mama as I drove back toward Otis, following Mama’s directions.

“Susy is Betty Jo’s next of kin. She’ll be the one to handle the funeral arrangements. And I’ve got a special fondness for Susy. She was one of my first clients when I started working as a case manager. When we talked, I learned that she had the ambition of becoming a medical assistant in a doctor’s office.
So I set up classes for her through Otis Technical and I got her an apprenticeship with Dr. Huggins. Susy finished school and became one of the nurses Dr. Huggins uses at his office. She also volunteers to help at the health department on Wednesday evenings when working mothers take their children in for their immunization shots.”

“She sounds like an okay lady.”

“Believe me, she’s nothing like her cousin Betty Jo.”

“How many children does she have?”

“Two,” Mama told me. “Twin girls, Joy and Jane. They’re in the fourth grade now and they’re doing very well in school.”

“You sound like you keep up with the family.”

“Susy has so much going for her, and her girls show all signs of having ambition like their mother.” Mama sounded proud.

“Mama, I know you’re going to pay your respects to Susy because of Betty Jo’s death, but I also know that you want to get information from her. What do you want?”

“As closely as I’ve worked with Betty Jo as her case manager, she just never impressed me as the kind of woman who needed anything to help her sleep,” Mama said thoughtfully.

Susy Mets’s front yard sported four pine trees, two crape myrtles, and four smaller shrubs.

Susy herself was a tiny woman with a warm manner
I liked instantly. She greeted us cheerfully when we walked up onto her porch. “I’m so glad to see you, Miss Candi,” she said, motioning us to come inside her home. The house was very cold. I could hear the air conditioner churning away in the dimness. Susy fumbled with the light, finally turning on a fringed lamp. I sat in an overstuffed armchair. Susy sat on a matching couch and Mama sat next to Susy.

“I’m sorry about Betty Jo,” Mama told Susy.

“I never thought she’d die in her sleep,” Susy told us, shaking her head. “I mean, the way she lived, I just never expected her to go to bed and not wake up.”

“Will you have a problem with Betty Jo’s burial?” Mama asked Susy. “There are some county funds available.”

There were tears in Susy’s eyes. “I kept a small policy on Betty Jo, the same as I’ve got on me and my girls.

“I wish Betty Jo wouldn’t have been the kind of woman that she was,” Susy went on. “I tried hard to talk her into making something of her life, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Betty Jo wasn’t a bad person. She did good things for people, was always feeding stray cats and dogs. She even kept the churchyard clean, made sure there wasn’t any paper or trash left after service. And she helped the old ladies at the Community Center sew patches for their quilts. Ask any of them—they’ll tell you that Betty Jo did whatever was needed. She just had a weakness, one
that, at times, made her forget that her boys needed her.”

Mama reached out and gently patted Susy’s hands. “I know that Betty Jo didn’t want to hurt anybody. Unfortunately, the only persons she really did harm to was those boys, Curtis and Mack.”

Susy looked up at Mama, a tear spilling down her cheek. “I wish I could have kept the boys. Fact is, it takes all I can do to take care of my girls.”

“And you do a good job at it, too,” Mama reassured her. “Susy, I need to ask you something about Betty Jo.”

“What do you want to know, Miss Candi?”

“Did she ever speak to you about Herman?”

“No, I don’t recollect her saying anything about Herman, but then you know he’d only been messing with Betty Jo a few weeks.”

“Do you remember exactly when Herman started taking up time with Betty Jo?” Mama asked.

“Let me think.… It was about a week before Ruby was killed.”

Mama looked surprised.

“There is one thing that Betty Jo told me,” Susy said as if it was an afterthought. “Betty Jo was scared of the dark. She tried to tell me something about dreaming that she woke up in the motel room upset because Herman had turned out all the lights. Before she finished telling me her dream, Herman came and stood next to her. After our conversation, Herman wouldn’t let Betty Jo out of his sight.” She shook her head again. “That’s around when she
moved into his place. I don’t know how long that was going to work, though. My cousin wasn’t for sticking too close to any one man for very long.”

Mama took a deep breath. “It will be a week before the medical examiner will release Betty Jo’s body so that you can have a funeral. Once that happens, if you need help in making funeral arrangements, I’ll be glad to be there for you.”

Susy’s face lit up when she smiled. “Miss Candi, you’ve already done so much for me. I really can’t imagine how I could ever repay you for all of your kindnesses. You taught me so much. What you said about setting goals has helped me to turn my life completely around. I’ve got so many things I want to do, so many things I want for me and my girls.”

Mama looked into Susy’s eyes. Her fondness for this young woman was clear. “Your attainment of all those goals is all the thanks I will ever need,” she told Susy.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

S
unday before noon the telephone rang. Mama answered it. When she returned to the table she told us that Sarah Jenkins had called to tell her that she just remembered something that might help find the person who killed Ruby.

“I suppose Sarah’s memory is working up to speed now that Ruby’s death has been ruled a homicide rather than a suicide,” I said.

Mama nodded. “Yes, it means that she can collect on that insurance policy she’s been paying on for years.”

“More importantly,” I sniggered, “the respectable Miss Jenkins will be able to pay her taxes on time, which will stop the townspeople from talking about how silly she was to send her tax money off to Canada on a scam.”

Mama smiled and nodded. “In a small town like
Otis, people talking about you can slap you in the face every day. It’s a shame that talk can have such a sting, but in Otis it’s more like a sore that keeps getting irritated until it festers.”

“Sarah can give it but she can’t take it,” Daddy said.

“Isn’t that the way it always works,” Mama responded.

“Payback is hell!” I said.

“Sarah Jenkins has got a lot more payback coming to her than what she’s just gone through,” Daddy said. “That woman, along with her two comrades, has dragged more people’s names in the mud than anybody in this town.”

“Sarah, Carrie, and Annie Mae got their reputation,” Mama agreed. “Still—”

“Mama likes to keep them as her source,” I cut in.

“Simone, James and I have been away from this town for thirty years. There is a lot of history that I just don’t know.”

“Well, teaming up with the good Sarah Jenkins, Annie Mae Gregory, and Carrie Smalls was the right thing for you to do,” I said. “They know more about the history of this town than the CIA.”

Mama smiled. “They’ve been helpful in the past.”

“Enough about the town’s gossips,” Daddy said. “I’ve been thinking about Herman Spikes.”

“What about Herman?” Mama asked.

“Candi, you’re the one with the suspicious mind in this family, but I can’t help but think how unexpectedly Betty Jo Mets died. Now we know that
Ruby was killed. Wouldn’t it be something if Betty Jo was murdered too?”

“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” Mama admitted. “I’ve been Betty Jo’s case manager for better than two years now, and I never dreamed she’d go to bed and not wake up. She was a character, so full of life. To be honest, she was too full of life. It’s the reason I had to do what I did. She left her two young boys home alone for hours, sometimes days. Things got so bad six months ago that we had to make a decision whether or not to place the boys in a foster home. We held a hearing. Betty Jo answered the hearing officer’s questions so honestly, I felt embarrassed for her.”

I shrugged. “Betty Jo had reason to be honest at the hearing, Mama. She knew that if the state took those children, she’d be free to do as she pleased.”

Mama shook her head. “Simone, I don’t think so. First of all, the boys’ removal meant that Betty Jo would no longer receive either a welfare check or food stamps. Also, I believe Betty Jo really did love her boys. Trouble is, she loved men, too. And that’s exactly what she told the hearing officer. She admitted that she had a weakness for men. That when she had the urge to go with one, she forgot about her boys. She claimed that’s why she left them alone too long.”

“She was sick,” I said.

“She had a problem, yes,” Mama agreed. “But Betty Jo was honest enough to admit it. Herman was lucky when he decided to spend the night with Betty
Jo the night that Ruby was killed. Betty Jo had her faults, but the one thing she was known for was being truthful. It was almost like she never learned how to tell a lie.”

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