Law and Author (3 page)

“I stopped by the Winn-Dixie to pick up this here fruit platter I'd ordered and I got to talking with Bernice Waller. Did y'all know that Frida Moreland is opening a dressmaking shop?”

“I did not know that,” Molly said. “Now why do you suppose she's doing that? I thought she was happy working for Maisie. I wonder if there's enough business for another one.”

Teensy shrugged and sat down beside Stephanie on the wicker settee and accepted a glass of white wine from Bob, who had jumped up to pour it for her. “Why thank you, Bob. I gather the fishing was a success?”

“You bet. You're about to enjoy the best fresh barbecued bass you've ever had.”

Teensy laughed. “I can hardly wait.”

Molly glanced at her watch. Bob said, “You keep checking the time, Molly. Are you planning something special?”

Molly looked over at Lizzie. “You could say that.” She stood and passed around the plate of crostini. “I'm just wondering when we should start the barbecue going.”

“Now, don't you worry about anything. It's all under control. Can I refresh your drink?”

“No, thank you. I'm quite all right. Should I bring out some more cheese?”

Everyone murmured that there was quite enough food all ready.

“You seem a tad jittery today, Molly,” Bob observed. Molly shrugged and passed around the tray of deviled eggs.

Stephanie spread a blanket on the lawn and set Wendy down to crawl around. “She's getting to be so big,” Bob said. “She'll be walking any day now.”

“She's already trying,” Stephanie said with a laugh. “I'm busy hiding all my breakables.”

“That's just the start of it.”

“How would you know?”

They all turned to see who had asked the question. Standing at the corner of the house was Darla.

“Sorry,” she said with a small smile, “that didn't quite come out right. I didn't mean to accuse you. I was just trying to be funny. Sorry.”

Bob stood quickly but seemed at a loss what to say. Molly hurried over to Darla's side. She slid her arm around her shoulders and said, “Now, we're all good-natured here. So don't you worry about it. Come on in and meet everyone. You already know Teensy, Lizzie and Sally-Jo.”

Darla nodded but wouldn't look any of them in the eye. Lizzie almost felt sorry for her until she noticed the quick look of self-satisfaction on Darla's face.

Molly introduced the book club members, saving Bob for last. She tugged Darla over to him.

“And this is Bob Miller. Bob, you might want to sit down. This is your granddaughter, Darla Lyman.”

Bob looked stunned. He couldn't seem to find his voice and indeed did sit down. At that moment, Lizzie thought he looked all of his seventy-odd years. Darla stood in front of him, stock-still, staring at him. Finally, Bob stood back up and cleared his throat.

“I'm mighty pleased to meet you, Darla. I didn't even know that Lily had herself a daughter. In fact, I don't know
anything about Lily's life after she left here.” He stuck out his hand and after a second, Darla slipped her hand into his. And then she smiled.

It was as if everyone had been holding their breaths, but that changed quickly and the chatter started up again.

“What can I get you to drink?” Bob asked, still in a daze. “A soda?”

She glanced over at the makeshift bar. “I'll have some white wine.” She sat in Bob's chair when he went to get it for her. He pulled over another wicker chair to sit next to her when he returned.

“I just cannot believe it,” he said. “How old are you, anyway?”

“I'm twenty-one, sir,” she said demurely and sipped her wine.

Stephanie looked over and grinned. “I was nineteen when I came to town a couple of years ago. Are you visiting or planning on staying?”

Darla glanced at Bob then back at Stephanie. “That all depends. I wanted a time-out from my mama and I decided I needed to meet my granddaddy.”

Molly came by with the plate of deviled eggs. “Darla, tell him what you told me.”

Darla nodded. “Well, I didn't know anything about you either, not until my grandmamma told me last year, just before she died.”

Bob sucked in his breath. “Sue-Ann is dead?”

“Yes, sir. She had cancer, which spread quickly.” Darla sipped her wine. “I asked my mama to tell me all about her childhood but she said she didn't remember you.” Bob winced.

“I can imagine. She was only five when they moved away.”

“Well, mama said you never tried to see her.”

“That's not true. I sent her presents for her birthday and cards and even tried phoning a time or two but Sue-Ann wouldn't have any of it.” He sighed. “It's a long story, Darla. Anyway, I'm happy you decided to find me.”

“And, we're all pleased you're here tonight with us,” Molly said. “I think we'll get the fish to cooking now, and then after supper, you two can start to get to know each other.”

Stop harassing me. Get out of town, or else.

DAYS OF WINE AND ROQUEFORT—
AVERY AAMES

M
onday. Start of a new school week. And only one week to go until Easter break. Lizzie smiled at her image in the mirror. The two weeks of Easter break were always welcome even though it hadn't been a particularly taxing school year so far. As a reading specialist with the public school board, Lizzie's home base was the Ashton Corners Elementary School, an easy ten-minute drive from her house or twice that time if she walked, which she sometimes did, especially the days she chose not to go for an early-morning run.

This had been one of those days. Even though she'd not slept well and she knew the run would do her good, she decided to opt for a slow start, taking her time over breakfast, brushing both of her cats, Brie and Edam, after they'd finished off their own meals, and finally, a second espresso before getting ready for school.

While she got dressed, in black slacks and a white-and-black-striped blouse, she mulled over her reason for tossing and turning part of the night. In one word, Darla.

Bob had been delighted once they started talking, quick to get over his initial shock, and wanting to set things right with his only grandchild. Lizzie was happy for him but at the same time, she felt wary. Something just seemed a bit off about Darla although Molly certainly hadn't felt the same way. In fact, she'd been most helpful in offering Darla a place to stay when it was decided that Bob didn't have the space.

“I wasn't the only one who felt something odd going on,” Lizzie told the ever-curious Edam who had a paw in Lizzie's handbag, searching for something unknown. “Out of there, baby,” Lizzie said, gently pulling her cat away from the bag. She set the cat down on the bed next to Brie, who had chosen the space for his grooming ritual.

“Teensy definitely does not like the girl,” Lizzie continued. “Molly knows it, too. She kept sending Teensy ‘meaningful' looks all evening.”

Lizzie decided she'd give Teensy a call after school and compare notes. She'd also ask for Sally-Jo's opinion if she saw her at school today.
Maybe I'm just being silly.

She did a final check in the mirror, deciding she'd pull her long brown hair back in a clip rather than wearing it loose. She had this ongoing internal debate about whether to cut it short. Part of her longed for a cute pixie look like Sally-Jo had, but then she reminded herself that style so suited her friend's all-round petiteness. Lizzie had better stick with long or maybe go up a couple of inches to shoulder length. She stowed the continuing conversation for another time, then grabbed her handbag and ran lightly down the stairs. She found her school bag filled with her notes and some new reference books on the sofa desk in the hall,
grabbed her house keys, and on the spur of the moment, her car keys and decided to drive to school.

Her first appointment was with the single mother of a second grader who refused to read. In fact, from what the teacher had been saying, Darren John Sayers refused to do just about anything these days. They agreed that something must have happened within the past two weeks to bring out the belligerent streak in the onetime cheerful child. As far as they could tell, nothing had happened in school to upset him.

His teacher, Sharlene, was hoping that Lizzie could find out in a roundabout way if anything had happened on the home front. They were reluctant to include the principal, Charles Benton, in on the process, knowing he'd be likely to get the mama's back up and then nothing would be achieved. Lizzie smiled to herself at the thought of Benton trying anything that resembled tact when dealing with a person, be it teacher or parent. Oh well, rumor had it that this first year at the school would also be his last.

Mrs. Flower Sayers sat stiffly on the chair outside Vice Principal Kim Lafferty's office as Lizzie approached the room. She recognized the woman from a brief meeting in the fall. No one knew the story about Mr. Sayers but it didn't really matter. Lizzie was concerned about the mama and child at the moment.

“Mrs. Sayers, you're early,” she said, holding out her hand.

Sayers stood slowly and looked at Lizzie's hand before shaking it. “I'm sorry. I was ready early and getting jittery just sitting around. Do you want me to go away and come back?”

“No,” Lizzie said with a warm smile. “Come in, but you'll have to give me a minute to get settled. Have a seat, please.” She gestured to the comfortable armchair that sat across from the desk.

Sayers looked around the office as she sat down, placing her large handbag on the floor beside the chair.

Lizzie put the folder with her notes on the desk, flicked on the desktop computer and sat down, watching Flower Sayers from the corner of her eye. Sayers looked uncomfortable and jittery, not good if Lizzie wanted to have a heart-to-heart with the woman.

“Would you like some coffee?” Lizzie asked after glancing at the single-cup Keurig machine sitting on a side table.

“Uh, no thank you. I'm fine. I'm just wondering what's up about Darren John? Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“No, ma'am. I wouldn't say he's in trouble, but rather, having trouble.”

Sayers looked blank.

“I'm not sure if you realize it but he's refusing to read. In fact, he's refusing to do anything he's asked. I wonder if there's something we should know in order to help him? He really seemed so eager to learn when I first met him.”

Sayers shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I don't know what's gotten into him but I'll get at the bottom of it tonight when he comes home.”

“That's not what I'm suggesting, Mrs. Sayers. I know you love him very much”—she glanced at the woman, who nodded quickly—“but I think it's best if he's not confronted about this but rather we try to clear up anything that's been bothering him, if we can figure out what it is. Have there been any changes at home lately? Sometimes even a change in routine can be disrupting.” Lizzie smiled again, hoping to keep Mrs. Sayers comfortable with talking.

“There's nothing,” she said rather too quickly for Lizzie's liking. She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I'll talk to Darren John when he gets home. You'll see; everything will
be just fine.” She stood quickly, grabbed her handbag and left the office, closing the door behind her.

“Well, I sure blew that,” Lizzie said aloud, shaking her head. She hated to think that Darren John might be in for a verbal tirade tonight. She would make sure to talk to Sharlene at lunch and see if they could come up with something.

Lizzie was actually pleased to have some extra time that morning and she searched the school files on Lafferty's computer, making some notes, before moving to her cubbyhole in the library. She spent the rest of the morning finishing a term-end report to be handed in at the school board office before the end of the week.

At noon she headed for the staff room and found Sharlene already eating at one of the long tables. She sat down beside her and recounted the early-morning meeting. “I sure hope I didn't make things difficult for Darren John,” Lizzie ended.

“My impression of Flower Sayers is that she's fairly wishy-washy. I seriously doubt she'll say anything to her son. I'll keep a keen eye on him tomorrow, though. What do you think our next step should be? I hate to mention it to Benton.”

Lizzie shuddered. “Me, too. I wonder if I could find a book at his level that might deal with talking about problems. I don't know, something that he can relate to and maybe will take to heart.”

Sharlene's face lit up. “That sounds like a good solution, Lizzie. Do you have the time to look for it?”

“Sure,” Lizzie said, wondering how she'd find the time. “I'll get right on it and check with you tomorrow.” She grabbed her uneaten sandwich and headed back to the library. She'd check the school board database first of all and see if anything sounded like it fit the bill. Her next step would be to consult with the children's librarian at the public library. But that would have to wait until after school.

By the time the final bell rang, Lizzie had almost forgotten the trip to the library. She was anxious to get over to Molly's and see how day one with a houseguest had gone. However, as she parked in front of the library, she made a quick call to Teensy to see if she had heard from Molly.

“Why, sugar, I was just thinking about you,” Teensy said once Lizzie had identified herself. “We just have to get together to talk about this Darla business. You know, I'm still upset about it. That little waif just wove both Molly and Bob around her little finger. But of course, it really wasn't any of my business so I couldn't say anything. But I had the distinct feeling you had the same thoughts.”

“I'm uncomfortable with it all,” Lizzie admitted, “but I don't have any real reason. Just a feeling, as you say. Have you heard from Molly today?”

“No, I haven't and I did call earlier but there was no answer. I left her a message but she hasn't returned my call. Do you think we should be worried?”

Lizzie tried to make light of it. “Probably not. You know that Molly has a lot going on. She's probably running around doing errands. Or she might even be at the bookstore.”
I wonder what Darla's doing?

“Tosh. I bet you're right and I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill again. But I'll be keeping tabs on that girl just in case she's planning to make off with the silver or something.”

Lizzie grinned. She could just picture Teensy to the rescue. “Good idea. I'm planning on stopping by Molly's after I take care of some business at the library.”

“I feel better knowing that. Thank you, Lizzie. Bye, bye.”

Hearing someone else worry about the situation helped to put it into perspective for Lizzie, she thought during the short drive to the library. She admitted she probably was overreacting
and she'd just leave the worrying to Teensy. She locked the car and walked up the stairs to the front door. The afternoon sun reflected in the glass of the door, making Lizzie wish she hadn't left her sunglasses in the car. She glanced back at the car and noticed two people moving quickly across the town square and walking at an angle toward the stores along Main Street, to Lizzie's left. They didn't give her a glance and she hadn't gotten a very good look but she thought it was Darla, and it looked like she wasn't happy about being shoved ahead by the man at her side. Lizzie lost sight of them as they slipped around the corner into the first alley, next to the florist shop.

Lizzie quickly ran back down the stairs and down the street, pausing at the entrance to the alley to peer around surreptitiously. The woman was indeed Darla and she'd been backed against the wall, with the man shaking a fist at her. Lizzie couldn't make out what he was saying, except the fact that he was angry. And a stranger.
I should yell and make a scene.
Before she had a chance, the man looked like he might hit Darla but instead, he started backing away, toward Lizzie.

Lizzie backtracked into the doorway of the Up'sa Daisy Flower Shop and pretended to be closely examining the window display. The stranger walked right past her without glancing her way.
If looks could kill
, Lizzie thought with a shudder, watching his reflection in the window. From what she could see, he appeared to be around her age, maybe even a bit older, in his early forties. The New York Yankees baseball cap he wore didn't quite cover his black hair that matched his thick moustache.

Lizzie wondered if she should let Darla know she'd seen what had happened. At least check on her to make sure she was okay. Before she could, Darla appeared and turned in the opposite direction without looking Lizzie's way, walking at a jaunty pace.
What on earth was all that about?

Well, at least she knew where Darla was. Not with Molly. And, who was the guy? Definitely nobody Lizzie had seen around town.

Lizzie puzzled about it as she went back to the library. Once inside, she spotted Hailey Pratt, the head of the children's department, standing at the front desk and flipping through a catalogue. She looked up as Lizzie approached.

“Hey, Lizzie Turner. It's nice to see you,” Hailey said.

“And you. I was hoping you'd have some time to help me find a particular book for a second-grade student with a particular problem. At least, I think he has a problem.”

“Happy to. Come on over to my desk.” She led the way and after hearing Lizzie's plan, checked her computer and then went over to the shelves in the children's section, returning shortly with two books.

“I think these might be just what you're looking for. It sounds like a very good idea. See what you think.”

Lizzie read the jackets and flipped through both books. “These look perfect. I'll check them out on my card. Thanks for your help, Hailey.”

“A pleasure. See you at choir on Friday?” Hailey had recently joined Musica Nobilis, the community choir that gave Lizzie so much pleasure.