Miss Julia Renews Her Vows (24 page)

Sam came into the kitchen and walked over to the table, wishing everybody a good morning on his way. It was still a marvel to me that he had such an even temperament, even early in the morning. He was never crabby or snappish, but always warm and pleasant. Such a difference, you know, from my first experience with a husband. With Wesley Lloyd, I always had to test the temperature before opening my mouth, and nine times out of ten, I kept it shut.

Sam walked toward his place at the table, stopping beside Lloyd. Putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, he said, “How’s it going this morning? You sleep well?”

Lloyd grinned up at him, a fork dripping with syrup in his hand. “Yes, sir, I did. Hope you did, too.”

Sam nodded, patted his shoulder, then sat down. As he spoke to Lillian and awaited his plate, I poured coffee for him, thinking of how the atmosphere in the house had changed since Sam came into it. He had a way of making every one of us feel important because, I guess, he had a true interest in us: what we were doing, how we were feeling, what our plans were, and on and on. It is remarkable how one person in a family can so influence, for good or ill, everybody else. I could see it clearly because I had such opposites—Wesley Lloyd Springer and Sam Murdoch—as illustrations.

So I mentally sighed, even as Sam reached over and clasped my hand. Would he change when he heard what a mess I’d gotten myself into? I would certainly stress that it hadn’t been all my fault. I’d not gone to the church that day with the intent of making myself of interest to Dr. Fowler.
Dr. Fred,
I contemptuously corrected myself. Far from it. I’d barely known the man, much less thought of him as a possible suitor. It had been the pastor who’d asked me to show the good doctor around the church and sent us off into the empty rooms and hallways by ourselves. And still I’d thought nothing of it. And didn’t think anything of it until we reached the bridal parlor and Dr. Fred began his advances. After that, well, I simply can’t be held responsible, I don’t think.

But I didn’t know what Sam would think, yet I had to tell him and suffer whatever consequences there might be. No more pleasant mornings, maybe, or intimate glances or holding of hands or sweet words or warm places in bed. Well, I’d always been one who believed in holding people accountable for their words and actions, and now it was my turn.

“Sam,” I began when Lloyd got up to get his book bag. “Sometime today I’d like to talk to you. I’ll come to your house if you won’t be too busy. What’s a good time?”

“We can talk now, if you want to. I’m never too busy for you.”

“No, it’d be better later on. I need the walk as well.” Actually, I wanted total privacy and I was unlikely to get it here at home. Somebody was always telephoning or dropping by, and at Sam’s house there’d be no one there but James, and I could send him to the store.

“Well, you just come on whenever you want,” Sam said. “I’ll be there . . . No, wait. Tom Hansen’s coming by this morning to pick up the letter of recommendation I’ve written for his son. And Rotary Club meets today, so I’ll be gone till after lunch. I can cancel both, though, if the morning’s better for you.”

“No, that’s fine, Sam. Don’t cancel either one. I’ll come by this afternoon.”

We left it at that, and I set about planning the best way to tell him, what to tell him and how much or how little to tell him. I just wanted it all off my conscience, and I wanted Sam to understand why I couldn’t go to the marriage enrichment sessions taught by a poor excuse for a human being. And I wanted him to reassure me that our marriage was already abundantly enriched, with no dearth of sparks to keep it alive.

After Sam and Lloyd left, I spent half the morning worrying myself to death by going over and over what I planned to say. I couldn’t sit still; I couldn’t get my mind off it, so finally I told Lillian that I thought I’d call Etta Mae Wiggins to see how she was doing.

“Maybe she’s heard something,” I said. “You know, Lillian, I’m really worried about her. She’s lost her job, and I doubt she has any savings. She won’t let me help her, so I don’t know what she’s going to do. I would’ve kept her on here for a few more days, but she wouldn’t have it.”

“Well, call her up,” Lillian said. “See if that lieutenant been after her again.”

“I think I will.” So I did, and stood there listening to the phone ring and ring with no one answering. “She’s not at home. Maybe she’s out interviewing somewhere.”

“Call her on that cell phone she got,” Lillian said. “The number right there on that notepad.”

“Oh, of course. I should’ve thought of that.” But that number, too, rang and rang, and finally I had to leave a message. “Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“You think of something, sooner or later,” Lillian said. “You always do.”

“Well, come to think of it, I just have. I think I’ll go visit Francie.”

Lillian turned from the sink to stare at me. “What for?”

“I want to see her bedroom—the crime scene, Lillian, and she should be home from the hospital by now. And I want to meet that Evelyn, who seems awfully mysterious to me.”

“What you mean ‘mysterious’? You think she know something?”

“I don’t know. I just know that she’s been in the background of all this, and who’s ever seen her? I certainly haven’t. All I’ve heard is that she’s old and frail, although those two don’t always go together, and that she’s worked for Francie for a long time and that she knows how to dial nine-one-one, and that’s it.” I looked around for my pocketbook. “Anyway, it’ll give me something to do. I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

Thinking that it would be better to have an accomplice when visiting Francie, I called LuAnne and asked if she’d go with me.

“Oh, I’d love to,” she said. “I want to see where she lives and what she has. If her house is anything like the clothes she wears, it’ll be a sight. But I can’t, Julia. Leonard has a doctor’s appointment—just a checkup—and I have to go with him. You know how he is.”

Well, yes, I did, but I knew how LuAnne was, too. She didn’t think Leonard could do anything alone, and by this time, he didn’t think so, either. So, getting Francie’s address from LuAnne, I took myself off to get the lay of the land.

Driving across town toward Francie’s cottage, I detoured a little way to pick up a ready-made fruit basket from the grocery store. It’s always nice to have something in hand when calling on someone, especially when dropping in with no prior notice, as I was doing.

I slowed the car and crept past the gatehouse at the entrance to the grounds of Mountain Villas, nodding at the gatekeeper, who did not question my passing. Hm-m, I thought, they have a modicum of security, but it looks as if anybody can just cruise on in. Maybe that’s the way Francie’s attacker gained admittance.

Obeying the fifteen-mile-per-hour speed signs, I followed the twisting road, reading the side-street names as I went along. Finally, seeing Woodchuck Lane, I turned in, passed a couple of small dark-stained cottages with lots of windows and started to pull to the curb at number eight.

At the sight of a certain familiar car in the driveway, I was so aghast that I let the car jump the curb and come to within an inch of hitting a scrawny Japanese maple.

Jumping out of the car, I ran up the walk and rang the doorbell. Sure enough, my worst fear was confirmed when she answered the door.

“Etta Mae!” I cried, taking in her green scrub suit and white walking shoes. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“Oh, Miss Julia,” Etta Mae Wiggins said, looking somewhat abashed. “Well, I guess I’m working for Mrs. Delacorte. But come on in. I know she’ll want to see you. I just got her settled on the sunporch.”

Etta Mae stepped back, holding the door wide for me. I walked inside the small dark hall and just stared at her. “What
are
you doing? Why’re you here? Don’t you know you ought to keep your distance? What’s Lieutenant Peavey going to think?”

“Well, I just didn’t know what else to do. She called me last night and begged me to help her out, and I know she’s had a hard time and, well, I need the work. It’s just till Hazel Marie gets home.”

“Lord,” I said, my eyes rolling back so far it almost gave me a headache. “Etta Mae, you are too good for your own good. But,” I went on, as I considered the situation, “maybe this will work to your benefit. It’ll certainly show the lieutenant that Francie’s not afraid of you, and I think it’ll undercut any accusation she’s made. Although I don’t know how you can stand it after all she’s said about you.”

At that point, a querulous voice called, “Who is it? Etta Mae, who’s at the door? Where are you?”

Etta Mae gave me a quick grin, took the fruit basket from me and whispered, “I don’t know how I stand it, either.” Then she motioned me to follow her down the hall, past a living room filled with dark, heavy Italianate furniture, into a sunroom, where Francie was ensconced in an easy chair with her gouty foot elevated on a footstool. Noticing the fancy walking stick leaning against the arm of the chair, I wondered whether it could’ve been the attack weapon. So handy, you know. And since it had gone to the hospital with Francie, maybe no one had thought to test it. But no, a slender cane wouldn’t have caused a large flat injury such as the one Francie had suffered, so I quickly, but reluctantly, discarded that idea.

“Look who’s come to visit,” Etta Mae said cheerily. “It’s Miss Julia Murdoch, and she’s brought you some fruit.”

“Hello, Francie,” I said, eyeing her face for signs of a cosmetic surgeon’s knife. “How’re you feeling now that you’re home?”

“Oh, don’t ask,” Francie moaned, swinging her head from side to side, drawing my attention to the fact that instead of a bandage, she was now wearing a green and gold turban that hid both hair and whatever wound she had. “You wouldn’t believe how uncomfortable the ambulance was. And did you know those nurses didn’t even want to call one for me? Said I could ride in a car, but I guess I know what’s best for me. Have a seat, Julia, and take my mind off my problems for a little while. Etta Mae,” she said without even looking at her, “put that fruit up. I’m not sure I can eat any of it. I have to be so careful of my diet, you know.”

Murmuring, “Yes, ma’am,” Etta Mae left.

I took a seat across from Francie with my back to the windows where the sun was streaming in. Deciding to jump right in, I said, “Francie, I’ll have to say that I’m amazed that you’ve hired Miss Wiggins again. Didn’t you tell Lieutenant Peavey that she’s the one who attacked you?”

“Yes, and stole my bracelet, too. But Julia, you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get help these days. And I’m not even talking about
good
help. Just help, period. Besides, I’m perfectly safe as long as Evelyn’s here. She won’t get away with another crime, believe you me.”

“Well, it just seems strange to me, and I’m wondering if you’re having second thoughts. It could’ve been a stranger, because you know that anybody can just drive right through the gate and go anywhere they want.”

“No, no, Julia,” Francie said, waving her hand. “Don’t confuse me. I know what I smelled, and it was her. But see, having her here now, I can watch her, and so can Evelyn. Better the enemy you can see than the one you can’t.”

Well, that might work for Francie, but I couldn’t see that it did anything for Etta Mae. All she was doing was putting herself in a position to be accused of something else, and I determined then and there to get Etta Mae out of the line of fire. I would simply advance the calendar some few months and go ahead and employ her for Hazel Marie’s benefit. After all, who knew when those babies would arrive? I certainly didn’t. For all I knew, they could be here any day.