Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (15 page)

Neely Kate leaned close to me and whispered, “Your eyeballs are liable to fall out if you keep doin’ that.”

Miss Mildred picked a pew in the middle of the sanctuary. It felt strange to see the room so empty. Jonah’s televised services had started drawing so many church-goers, especially from neighboring counties, he’d expanded to two services.

Neely Kate sat next to her and I perched in the pew in front of them, turning my body sideways so I could look at them as I pulled my notebook out of my purse.

“So,” Neely Kate drawled. “Henry Buchanan owned Atchison Manufacturing?”

Miss Mildred looked around to see if anyone was within earshot—of course there wasn’t—before leaning forward and whispering, “He inherited it from his maternal grandparents. They started it before World War II. They made rivets or some such nonsense.”

“Rivets?” Neely Kate asked.

Miss Mildred waved. “They used ’em for plane and car parts. But then the fire wiped the whole plum thing out. It was so big you could see the glow all over town.”

“Did they ever say what started the fire?” Neely Kate asked as I took down notes.

“They said it was accidental. Some chemicals got too close to a shorted-out electric fire, but my Kennie was an electrical engineer in the navy, and he said he couldn’t imagine that fire gettin’ started from an electrical short. He said it looked like it was set by explosives.”

Neely Kate’s eyes widened. “And no one questioned it? Didn’t the police and the fire department do an investigation?”

Miss Mildred waved off Neely Kate’s question. “The police were as incompetent back then as they are now, just like the DA’s office.” She shot me a glare. “And it looks like you’ve used your devil ways to get your boyfriends to ignore my neighborhood watch tips.”

I gave her a pointed stare. “You mean like the Contorvas’ dog pooping on your lawn? Or me kissing my boyfriend on my own front porch?”

“I might be old, but I can still make a stand for public decency,” she said with a self-righteous humph.

We were gonna have to filter everything that came out of her mouth. Her own interpretation of what was right and wrong and what constituted justice was totally skewed. I couldn’t forget that she had spearheaded the petition to ban the annual Henryetta Easter egg hunt. Her reasoning was that it mirrored a pagan fertility ritual and the devil was using it to encourage fornication in the town. But she’d abandoned the cause like a virgin in a whorehouse when she couldn’t—try as she might—get any more than six hundred and sixty-six signatures.

Neely Kate shook her head. “Back to the warehouse.”

Miss Mildred pinched her lips and turned back to my friend.

“Do you know anything else about the warehouse or the fire?”

She leaned toward Neely Kate, lowering her voice to a whisper again. “Everyone suspected he was havin’ an affair with his bookkeeper.”

I suppressed a cringe.

“Do you know who his bookkeeper was?”

She grimaced. “No, I never caught her name.”

I had a pretty good idea who it was.

“We know the factory burned down 1986. You said it happened in November?”

“Right after Thanksgiving.”

“Do you know why Henry Buchanan never rebuilt the factory?”

“No. That was a mystery too. It was doing quite well. We’d heard he’d gotten a government contract for his rivets. And it ended up goin’ to someone else after the fire.”

“Who?” Neely Kate asked.

I could see why she was asking. Maybe a rival company had committed sabotage to land the job.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure, but Petunia Picklebie’s husband Dirk would probably know. God rest her soul. He was a ne’er-do-well after the fire. He wore her down with all his gambling.” Her mouth pursed in disapproval.

Now we were really getting somewhere. Dirk had been in Dora’s journal. “Do you know what he did there?” I asked.

She glared at me, as though this whole mess that had unfurled before my birth was my fault. “He was a foreman. Agnes’s husband worked there too.”

I scribbled down the name Picklebie before I processed what she’d said. “Agnes? You mean Momma? My daddy worked there?”

She frowned at me. “Up until the fire.”

I stifled a gasp of relief. So Daddy
had
worked there.

“And does this Dirk Picklebie still live here in Henryetta?” Neely Kate shifted in her seat. “Do you happen to have a phone number or address?”

Miss Mildred shook her head. “No, but last I heard he was living in the Forest Ridge neighborhood.”

“What about Ima Jean?” I asked. “Were you friends with her?”

Miss Mildred’s eyes hardened. “We were acquaintances.” She squirmed in her seat. “I frequent her shop.”

“Did she suspect Henry was havin’ an affair?”

“I have no idea. But I never heard rumors of it until after the fire and right before he killed himself.”

Neely Kate studied her for a moment. “Do you remember anything else that might be helpful?”

“That’s about all I know.” Miss Mildred dug around in her purse and pulled out a rectangular black box and handed it to Neely Kate. “Here.”

Neely Kate’s mouth dropped open as she took it.

She pulled out another one and pushed a button. Static came out of the box. “You suggested walkie-talkies, so I picked these up at Walmart.”

“Oh, yeah.” Neely Kate sucked in her bottom lip, trying to keep from laughing. “Good idea.”

Miss Mildred’s head bobbed. “I’ve been thinking about code names and I want to be White Tiger.”

I held back a snort.

To her credit, Neely Kate kept a straight face. “I think that’s great. We’ll come up with names for us.”

“I’ve already figured yours out for you.” The elderly woman pulled a paper out of her purse. “You can be Red Robin and that one there—” she flicked her finger toward me, “—she can be Yellow Lizard.”

“Why am
I
Yellow Lizard?” I asked.

Neely Kate covered her mouth to hide a chuckle.

“I think that part’s obvious.” Miss Mildred stood and used her cane to push Neely Kate’s legs out of the way. “I gotta stop by Reverend Pruitt’s office and turn in my petition demanding that he take the rock music out of his services.” She started hobbling up the aisle toward the doors. “You can report back to me tomorrow after you visit Dirk Picklebie.”

We watched her push open the door and she looked over her shoulder. “And don’t forget to keep your walkie-talkie on.”

Neely Kate let out a low whistle. “This is gonna be interesting.”

That wasn’t the word I had in mind.

We waited in the sanctuary for a good five minutes, waiting to stop by Jonah’s office to say hello until after Miss Mildred’s shouting stopped. We passed her in the hallway as she emerged from the office, muttering, “Why’s the bathroom so far? Those brownies kicked in sooner than usual.”

Neely Kate chuckled and leaned toward me. “So her gift was a good idea after all.”

I shuddered as we walked into Jonah’s office.

He stood in the main office, running one hand through his uncharacteristically tousled hair while holding a paper in the other with a paragraph and three signatures.

“You look like you just got run over by a bulldozer,” I said.

He shook his head and chuckled. “I think I just did.”

“I’m so sorry, Jonah.” Jessica, his secretary and now girlfriend, stood behind her desk wringing her hands, her cheeks flushed. “I tried to stop her.”

He walked over and took her hands in his. “It’s okay, Jessica. We all know Mildred is a force to be reckoned with.” His gaze landed on my friend. “It’s good to see you out and about, Neely Kate.”

“Well,” she said softly. “I’ve been helpin’ Rose with a project. We just wanted to say hello because we were in the neighborhood.”

His brow lifted. “You two keep out of trouble now, you hear?”

She flashed a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll try.” She walked out the door, and I started to follow her when Jonah called after me.

“Rose.”

I stopped and turned to look him.

“You got her to leave the house,” he said softly. “That’s wonderful.”

“Like she said, we’re working on a project.” When I saw the worry in his eyes, I held up a hand. “Don’t worry. We’re lookin’ into where Dora worked before she died, which—I might remind you—happened a full twenty-five years ago.”

His lips pressed together.

“Jonah, as you can see, Neely Kate isn’t herself, but a few times today she’s kind of forgotten what she’s been through, if only for a few minutes. We’re looking into an accidental factory fire a quarter of a century ago. How could that be dangerous?”

“A factory fire here in Henryetta?” Jessica asked, her eyebrows rose. “Atchison?”

I blinked. “Yeah.”

“My mom used to work there. She was a secretary.”

“Really? Do you think she’d talk to us about it?”

She laughed. “If you’re willing to risk it. She’ll talk your ear off about that and everything else under the sun.”

“I’m willing.” This was turning out to be easier than I’d expected.

“I’ll call her to set it up.” She winced. “She’ll insist on meeting for breakfast. She likes to combine pork products with gossip.”

“Gossip?” I asked, taken aback. Is that what this was?

She shrugged. “That’s how my mom will see it. Still interested?”

Any little piece of information we could gather would only help. “Yeah.”

“How about the four of us meet for breakfast at Merilee’s? Say eight-thirty tomorrow? I’m sure Mom will agree, but if she can’t make it, I’ll call you.”

I gave her a warm smile. “Thanks, Jessica.”

She shifted her weight, then looked down at her feet. “It’s the least I could do after you helped Jonah and me get together.”

I shook my head. “Jonah was just too blind to see what was right in front of him.”

“Hey!” he protested. “First Mildred, then you. I might as well head on over to the Baptist church and let both of the other women who signed this petition—” he waved the paper in his hand “—flog me.”

“Save your dramatic flair for the camera, Jonah,” I teased, then headed for the door. “I need to catch up to Neely Kate.”

Jonah’s smile faded. “Keep me updated on how she’s doin’, okay? I’m still worried about her.”

“Me too.” I looked over my shoulder as I walked out the door. “Thanks again, Jessica.”

Neely Kate was in the same folding chair she’d sat in while we were waiting for Miss Mildred. She was quiet for the entire drive to the Henryetta Family Clinic. I turned to look at her when I pulled into the parking lot. “Neely Kate, maybe you should stay home tonight. I think I made you overdo it today.”

“No. I want to go.” She gave me a weak smile. “You should come with us. You owe me a night at the Bingo hall.”

I grimaced. “I have an…appointment, remember?” Then I realized I was in trouble. “And I don’t have an excuse for bein’ gone tonight.”

She studied me for a moment, then took my hand. “You know I don’t want you doin’ this, but seein’ as how you’re good and stuck, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help?”

“Really?” I asked in amazement.

“Yeah. You’re supposed to meet him at eight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell Mason you’re goin’ to Bingo with Granny and me.”

A sick feeling settled in my stomach. “I hate lyin’ to him, Neely Kate.”

“I know, honey. So you meet us at the Bingo hall for a little bit, then you leave and meet Jed. That way you’re not lyin’.”

I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a sideways hug. “You’re the best, Neely Kate. I only wish I could help you too.”

She pulled back with tears in her eyes. “You have no idea how much today helped. Thanks for puttin’ up with my sulkin’.”

I shook my head. “Enough of
that
nonsense. Take a nap after you get home, you hear?”

She smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you around six-fifty.”

I watched her go into the clinic before driving home. Muffy was overjoyed to see me, so I decided to take her on a long walk to make up for being gone most of the day. After pulling on a pair of work boots, I decided to give in to curiosity and head south, toward Joe’s new rental house.

The last time Muffy and I had been this way, we’d found poor Mr. Sullivan in a ditch. The loan officer at the bank had been part of a robbery scheme to outbid Skeeter in an auction for the previous crime lord’s territory, but after he had a change of heart, one of his partners killed him and dumped his body on the very property Joe was now renting. But if Muffy was traumatized by the experience, she’d overcome it enough to romp around as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

When we made it to the gravel road leading up to the house, I had second thoughts. I wasn’t even sure Joe was home—in fact, I suspected he wasn’t—but I was curious to see what he’d done with his rental. I’d come this far. I might as well keep going.

To my disappointment, the fainting goats that had been kept here were gone. Muffy must have remembered them, though, because she ran up to the fence and peered through the slats, sniffing the ground frantically before releasing a cloud of stench that the breeze blew directly into my face.