Cemetery Silk (9 page)

Her face had taken on a look of fond memory that belied her words. I imagine at the time she was thrilled at the sight of two men fighting over her.

“Poor thing, he didn't stand a chance against my Stevie.”

Translation: the better man fought and saved me from a fate worse than death. I was tired of Deep.

Mother had a good question though.

“Did you ever have anything to do with Mrs. Dibber? Do you know if she was aware of your liaison with her husband?”

“‘Liaison,' hey, that's a terrific word. I gott'a remember that. Yeh, she knew. She used to see me places, at the movies or walking down the street, and give me a real ‘drop dead' look. And she called the coffee shop once, right after Hector took real bad. Molly wasn't there to answer the phone, and I could tell it was killin' her to have to ask me for somethin', but she just had to have two pies. Said she would come by after work to pick ‘em up. I gave her a hard time. Said I didn't know we would have what she wanted, Molly bein' off with Hector an all. And they was in the refrigerator case all the time, one chocolate and one banana creme. Man, I bet she hated me.”

Deep laughed with satisfaction as if that were one of her goals in life.

“And sure enough, come seven-fifteen here comes the skinny bitch for her goodies. I gave her even more grief, saying maybe Stevie had sold them when I wasn't looking, but she had caught on by then. Bitch threw a twenty in my face, grabbed her stupid pies, and left. Almost fell gettin' in the car, too. That would have been a hoot with creme pie everywhere!”

She grinned impishly and for a moment looked like the child she really was.

I had one last question. “Did you see Ernest after that night?”

“Nope.”

“He didn't come in the coffee shop?”

“Nope.” She shrugged back into her trench coat. “Can I go now?”

“Dear, might I suggest that you not mention our little meeting to your Steve?”

Way to go, Mother!

“Hah! And have to fork over my fifty? Damn right, I ain't gonna mention it. Well, thanks for the Perrier even though it tastes like horse…humm, sorry. See ya.”

Cassie opened the door and let Deep slipped dramatically out into the night, then came and sat back down on the edge of her bed. I could tell the whole encounter had really gotten to her. I also knew she would not discuss her feelings in front of Mother. I decided to rescue her.

“Let's push our beds together and have a midnight snack.”

Mother jumped up.

“Great idea! Like a spend-the-night party. Lord, it's been fifty years since my last one. Let me change and brush my teeth first.”

She busied about with her purchases and took some of them to the bathroom.

Cassie got up from the bed and knelt in front of me. She reached up and put her arms around my waist.

“Mom, that poor girl.”

“I know, Cassie. I feel really sorry for her too, but there's nothing we can do. Her fate was sealed the day she was born.”

“That's what I mean. That could be me.” She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“If you weren't my mom and hadn't taken care of me like you did, I could have ended up like that.”

I could have lied and said, “Never,” or told her that she was too strong to follow that path, but the truth was I still believed it was luck. So I said, “And it could have been me as well, if it hadn't been for your grandmother. We've both been lucky. We've both been very cherished and very loved, and you'll pass that legacy on to your very lucky little girl.”

“Pish and tush! I'm going to be a wonderfully eccentric old spinster with one true and passionate love affair to remember.”

“What? And do me out of being a grandmother? You wicked, wicked, child.”

I kissed the top of her beautiful head and thanked God for our good fortune.

“Now grab your ‘faux silk' nightie and let's heave and ho the beds. I bid on the middle!”

We sat in a circle in the middle of the three beds and noshed on the huge supply of junk food Mother had bought.

“Wow, I haven't had so much food coloring, sorbitol, and sodium nitrate since my last Easter egg hunt. Feels great! Gives you a little buzz? Do you feel it, Gran?”

“Ummm, feels just like a sugar high. Pass the Cheetos please, Paisley. I'm really put out with you for eating all the salt and vinegar chips. I've never had any. I was looking forward to a taste test.”

“If I live through this debauchery, I'll buy you some more tomorrow.” I licked the salt and yellow dye number two from my fingers. “Doesn't anybody want to discuss our visitor?”

“Well, she was a charming little thing. Somewhat in need of a good scrubbing, perhaps. And what an interesting vocabulary!”

“I'm serious, Mother. We need to discuss what we learned, if anything, and make some notes before we forget what she said.”

Cassie jumped up and searched through the desk drawers. “Here's a pencil and some stationary. I'll be the scribe.”

“Okay, who wants to start? Mother?”

“Very well, I have been pondering on something. Does it strike either of you as strange that after fathering five children our Mr. Dibber cannot stuff the old wiener in an attractive and nubile young woman?”

“Gran!” Cassie slammed down the paper and pencil.

“I'm sorry if it embarrasses you to hear your old grandmother say such things, Cassie, but honestly, don't you think it's odd?”

“You're right, Mother. Cassie, don't be a prude. I, myself, doubt a lot of her story. For instance, I cannot believe that Dibber was so open about their affair. If there ever was an affair. It could all be a fairy tale she dreamed up to make a soap opera of her rather ordinary life. You saw how much she loved the drama of coming here and being ‘an informant.' She probably fantasizes a lot.”

“Then I guess we need some sort of confirmation of Deep's story. But who's going to do that? Molly said Dibber flirted with Deep in the coffee shop, but so do half the customers. We saw that for ourselves. And I think I'd be afraid to approach the drunken husband. Of course, we could ask Sue.” Mother looked at me with a wry smile.

“Yeh, right,” I mumbled over a mouthful of chocolate and peanuts.

“Well, Mom, they did leave town in a hurry. Maybe she was getting him away from Deep.”

“Or removing him from the scene of the crime.”

“Or maybe both.” Mother looked pensive. “We need a town gossip. I wish I knew more of Abigail's friends, or even knew the ones I know of better.”

“Do you think you could call a couple in the morning? God, that last Snickers made me nauseous. Mother, I don't suppose you bought any Alka-Seltzer?”

“In the bag on the table, dear.” Bless her little heart.

I got up to get some water and make my potion. Then I had another thought.

“Let me turn out the lights for a minute and check on Watson.”

I opened the curtains and the aluminum miniblinds. The moon was a big fat yellow half wheel of cheddar floating above the trees. There were a few raggedy black clouds, but the sky was mostly clear. When I heard the wind whining through the eaves, I shivered. I could almost feel it blowing coldly through every cell in my body.

“This place gives me the creeps,” I whispered so softly that no one heard.

“How's Watson, dear? I'm getting quite fond of him.”

“Everything looks fine, Mother.”

“Oh, Mom, surely you can see some nefarious person underneath our Jeep snipping the brake line, or stabbing the tires with a stiletto?”

“I guess I am being somewhat paranoid, but you have to admit it's that kind of night. The wind whistling in the pines. The black clouds crawling across the moon like malevolent insects.…”

“Save it for your book, Paisley, dear. Close the blinds and help us clear these calories off the bed. I'm getting sleepy.”

By the time we cleaned and decrumbed, I was sleepy and chilled, too. It was definitely getting colder. Cassie was tall enough to reach the extra blankets at the top of the closet. A few minutes later we were all tucked in and snuggled down.

“I think I will call a couple of Abigail's friends in the morning. It can't hurt, and we might learn something. That's one reason we made this trip.”

“Mom, Gran, I'm sorry that Deep turned out to be such a bust. Pardon the pun! I guess we wasted a night here for nothing.”

“Excuse me, dear, but I for one have had a terrific time. Your young lady was immensely entertaining, and haven't we had fun?”

“If my fingers don't swell up and fall off from all that sodium, yes.” I took my rings off and put them in my nightshirt pocket just in case. “Don't fret, Pet. Deep is what's known in the mystery novel business as a ‘red herring.' It's an element considered essential by most writers. So, you see, you provided us with something we really needed.”

No response.

“Cassie?”

“I think she's asleep,” Mother whispered. “Paisley, do you really think Deep is nothing more than a red herring?”

I turned over on my side towards her so we could converse quietly without disturbing Cassie.

“I think she was putting on a performance. Lying to us, big time. Even if he's not ‘genteel,' I just can't see Ernest Dibber flaunting a little trollop like Deep in front of the whole town. Although I'm sure her story has some element of truth. She's not smart enough to make the whole thing up.”

“Well, there's always the Movie of the Week and True Romance magazine to give her inspiration.”

“Yeh, there's always that.” I yawned and stretched. “Still, I wish we had taken notes. Something she said might have had some significance. See you in the morning, Mother. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.”

“Oh, my goodness, I forgot to check the mattresses!”

“Go to sleep.”

Chapter Nine

She may have slept as deeply as I, or she might have stayed awake all night looking for bed bugs. I'll never know. I woke up eight hours later and opened my eyes to see her fully dressed and made up, speaking softly into the telephone.

I turned over on my stomach and considered trying to go back to sleep, but the rings in my pocket made that an uncomfortable possibility. I scooted across Mother's bed and retrieved my new faux silk undies and my old real denim jeans from the chair and headed for the shower.

Cassie was just beginning to stir when I came out of the bathroom and Mother was hanging up the phone.

“What say we check out the newspaper office for some back issues?” I asked as I started gathering up my things and tossing old candy wrappers in the trash.

“I have copies of their obituaries, if that's what you mean.”

“I was thinking more in terms of before—like when Abigail collapsed and was taken to the hospital. Was that in the paper?”

“I don't know. I don't think so. Someone, certainly William, would have shown it to me at the time. We can check. I think I have one at home.”

By the time we got back on the Interstate, it was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. I pulled around an eighteen-wheeler as it slowed going up a hill.

“Do we need to do anything else before we leave the area? How about the death certificates?”

“Well, as the next of kin, I guess I can request Abigail's by mail. I don't know how we could get William's even if we tried in person.”

“Okay! Meadowdale Farm, here we come!”

Cassie asked the perennial childhood question with a smirk. “How much farther, Mom?”

“It's for sure we are not almost there. I guess about a little less than two hours. What do you think, Mother?”

“About that. Are you all ready to hear about my sleuthing this morning or do you want to listen to the radio?”

“Oh, my gosh, Gran, we forgot about your phone calls! Of course we want to hear.”

“Wait, Mother, before you start. This time we have to take notes. Cassie, there's a legal pad and pencil.…”

“I found it. Okay, Gran, shoot.”

“First, I called Abigail's friend from the telephone office where she used to work. I thought that she would be the one I could be the most candid with. Her name is Mildred Jean Anderson, and she lives just outside of Lanierville. She was happy to hear from me. I saw her at the funeral, but we didn't have a chance to talk. Unfortunately, her husband has been very ill this last year, so she had not seen Abigail for some time before she died.”

Cassie groaned, “I need some caffeine if I'm going to stay awake for this.”

We still had some drinks in the cooler. They were swimming around in cold ice water, but Cassie managed to fish out one for each of us. I sipped a cold Coke as Mother continued.

“Mildred Jean did keep in touch with weekly phone calls. She said Abigail always sounded happy and upbeat. Abigail cheered her up when Mildred Jean was worried about her husband. She had lots of advice about doctors and treatment. Apparently her husband had a heart condition similar to William's. Abigail had said she would love to come and visit, but William was not well enough to drive, and her eyesight was getting worse.”

“Just a second, Gran. What about Abigail's eyesight? What was wrong with her eyes?”

“I've forgotten what it was called. Paisley, do you remember?”

“Yes. Abigail had macular degeneration. It's an irreversible condition, and there is nothing that can be done to correct it. If she had lived two or three more years she would have most likely gone blind.”

“Oh my, how awful!”

“Yes, Cassie, dear, awful indeed. She had a small cataract in each eye as well. A surgeon removed the cataracts some time last spring, but it didn't really make much of a difference. She was very disappointed.”

“Mother, did Abigail have any other health problems? Was she on any medication?”

“Nothing that I know about. She had a physical exam before the eye surgery. It was the first one she'd had in years. Abigail passed with flying colors—normal blood pressure, all lab tests normal. She was in fantastic shape for someone about to have her sixty-sixth birthday.”

“My God, Abigail was sixty-six? I can't believe it. Then you must be sixty-something, too, Gran. Come on, tell us, how old are you, sixty-one, sixty-two?”

“Cheeky child! Never you mind.”

“Well, not that you look it, but you must be sixty. That makes me feel a whole lot better. If I look as great as you when I'm sixty, I won't mind growing old. Cool! This is almost as good as the Fountain of Youth.”

I took a quick peek at Mother. She had a pleased little smile on her face, but I knew she hated discussing her age.

“What was Abigail's official cause of death, Mother?”

“I honestly don't know. I went to the hospital to sign the release so they could take her body to the funeral home, but I didn't talk to a doctor or even a nurse, just a clerk.”

“Well, that's one thing we have to find out ASAP. Cassie, make a note to call the Department of Vital Records and request Abigail's death certificate. Okay, Mother, please continue.”

“Mildred Jean told me a funny little anecdote. She was spending the afternoon with Abigail one day last year before her husband got sick, and the Dibbers dropped by with some lasagna. Sue Dibber made a big deal out of how much trouble it was to make from a special old family recipe. Mildred Jean got the idea that they were trying to really impress Abigail and William, but when she offered to put it in the refrigerator for Abigail, she saw a store label that the Dibbers had forgotten to remove on the bottom of the container. She said it made her laugh and feel really creepy at the same time. She had meant to tell Abigail about the ‘old family recipe' from Kroger but the Dibbers stayed longer than she could, and she forgot about it. That was the last time she saw Abigail alive. She was very tearful about it. She and Abigail had worked together for twenty years and had been very close friends. They were so close, in fact, that she wouldn't tell me any more personal details of Abigail's life. Anyway, that's all I got out of her.”

“Hmmm” was my only response, as we three detectives lapsed into silence. I didn't know what the others were thinking, but my mind was working at full speed in an attempt to fit the pieces of our puzzle together.