Then I imagined Isaac asking me Raymond’s last name, and how I’d gotten the information, and why I had any reason to believe it was true. Finally, I imagined Isaac saying, “Butt out, Judge. Joe Riddley ought to put a leash on you.”
No, he wouldn’t say anything that crude. I was getting Isaac mixed up with Charlie. Still, I’d feel a lot better giving Isaac information I’d seen with my own two eyes, not hearsay from a kid who could barely vote. I wouldn’t call Ike quite yet. First I’d call Laura. She had said she’s be back at MacDonald Motors this morning.
19
After Laura and I exchanged greetings, I asked about Skell and Gwen Ellen.
“No further word from Skell, so I told Mama he’ll probably get here sometime this afternoon. She had an appointment with the lawyer this morning. Oh—and the funeral home called. The police are going to release Daddy’s body this afternoon, so the funeral is definitely set for Saturday. We want Joe Riddley to be a pallbearer.”
“I’ll tell him. I know he’ll be honored.” I tried to figure out a graceful bridge between that and what I wanted to ask and couldn’t find any, so I let the silence suffice. “Listen, I have one question. Where do you file sales records for Sky’s the Limit? Paper files, not computer ones.”
“Current records back to six months, we keep down there. The rest are in our file room here. Why?”
“I’d like to go through the records for the past six months. Would that be possible?”
If she’d been asking to go through my records, she’d have had to give me a real good reason, but Laura has always been easy for her friends to get along with. “Sure. You want to tell me why?”
“Not until I see you in person.”
“When do you want to go down there? I’m pretty swamped today, but maybe tomorrow morning . . .”
“How about after you all close this evening?”
“What’s Joe Riddley gonna say?”
“Joe Riddley has a meeting at the church. The missions committee got postponed because of Presidents’ Day.”
“Did we have Presidents’ Day?” She sounded surprised.
“I’ll call you tonight when Joe Riddley leaves,” I suggested, “and we can go down then, if that’s all right with you.”
“No problem. I’ll be ready.”
She was wrong, unfortunately. There were a number of problems. First, Joe Riddley almost decided to stay home that evening and let the other members run the missions committee. “I hate to leave you,” he told me, standing by the kitchen door and regarding me with a frown.
“Go ahead.” I waved toward town to encourage him to start moving in that direction. “I’m going to have a quiet evening. Besides, without you they might forget to talk about Hands Up Together. You need to get working on that. We owe it to Skye.”
“Yeah, I ought to at least go and talk about that. I went by to look at that land this afternoon after the skies cleared a little, and I think Skye was right—it’s what we want. Money coming in for his memorials ought to go a good piece toward buying it.”
“Is it on the same road where he died?”
“Right beside it. If I had to guess, I’d say he went out there to have one more look at it, and somebody ran over him. It could have been an accident.”
“Don’t be silly. He was hit with his own car,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. It could have popped out of gear if he left it running.”
“And found its way to the church parking lot?”
He scratched his jaw with one long finger. “That’s a problem I haven’t quite solved.” He took his cap and settled it on his head. “I’ll be home early.”
“Don’t hurry on my account. Lulu and I will be fine.” I bent to give her a pat so he couldn’t see my face. We
would
be fine; we just wouldn’t be fine together.
You’d have thought Joe was reading my thoughts, for he burst into a cackle of laughter on the curtain rod. I frowned up at him. I didn’t want him putting ideas in Joe Riddley’s head.
Joe Riddley ambled to his car at the speed of a slow snail. I watched his taillights disappear from sight, to be sure he didn’t come back for something, then gave him time to get up to the end of our road before I called Laura. “I’m on my way. Is Skell there yet?”
“Not yet. Mama’s climbing walls. Shall I pick you up, or meet you there?”
“Meet me there. There’s no reason for you to come this far out of your way. I’ll put my dishes in the sink and be there in fifteen minutes.” I hadn’t reckoned on a timber truck that had broken an axle near the railroad. It lay crookedly in my lane, long pine logs hanging off its tail like droopy feathers. Three trucks that had come to help were blocking the rest of the road, so I had to turn and use another route. I didn’t have Laura’s cell phone number to warn her I’d be late, and when I broke my own rule about not calling while driving to call the operator, I discovered that nobody keeps a record of cell phone numbers. You’d think a society smart enough to develop cell phones in the first place could develop a way to share the numbers, but smart isn’t synonymous with intelligent.
By the time I got to Sky’s the Limit, Laura must have been waiting a good ten minutes.
She stood leaning against her rear fender taking deep breaths of cool clean air, and acted like I was right on time. “Hey, Big Mac. You doin’ all right?”
I was still wearing my work clothes, a taupe pantsuit with a chunky African necklace. Laura had changed into jeans, an oversized kelly green sweater I’d never seen, and loafers. The only odd note was the briefcase at her feet.
“If you aren’t careful, people are going to start teasing you about that briefcase like they tease me about my pocketbook,” I greeted her. “Our boys have threatened for years to bury me with my pocketbook and Joe Riddley in his cap.”
She grinned. “I feel insecure without it.”
“Well, you look marvelous. Downright beautiful. That’s a great color for you, and your haircut is as chic as the ones your mama and Cindy got at that new place across town.” Either the style made her face look thinner or she, like her mother, had lost weight in the past few days. And was that mascara I saw on her lashes? Before I could make sure, she’d turned to unlock the door.
When we got inside, even with the door locked behind us, I felt uneasy. There were no shades on those big plate-glass windows, so anybody driving by could see us and what we were doing. “There’s not much privacy in here, is there?”
“We can use Skell’s office.” She took me through what I’d assumed was a bathroom or closet door, but which led to a narrow hall along one outer wall, with two doors off it and an exit at the end.
Laura unlocked the first door, and we stepped into an office that could have been on a different planet. Soft rust carpet. Elegant walnut desk with leather desk pad and calendar, brass pencil holder, designer lamp. Creamy walls. No windows, but two pieces of signed modern art on the walls in yellow, green, and red-orange. And—what was more useful—two green leather chairs.
“This is beautiful.” I looked around in astonishment.
She nodded. “Skell’s got good taste. Daddy said he could have anything he wanted, but he’d have to pay for it. This is what he wanted.”
“But it’s so clean.”
Think before you speak
is a great proverb, if I could remember it in time.
Her deep chuckle filled the office. “You’ve seen his apartment, I take it.”
“Yeah, Saturday evening, looking for him.”
She shrugged. “It’s his life. Listen”—she motioned me to one chair and took the other—“can we talk a minute before we start going through the files? I’ve got a couple of things to tell you.” Now I knew what was most different about Laura: somebody had plugged in her lights. She positively vibrated with excitement. I hadn’t seen her like that since she got the letter saying she’d won a soccer scholarship to college.
Curious, I set my pocketbook beside my chair and crossed my legs. “So talk.”
First, though, she pulled a pack of spearmint gum out of her pocket and offered me a stick. When I refused, she unwrapped two. “Ben suggested it. Sure beats chewing my hair.” She folded the gum into her mouth and chewed to get it soft. While I waited, I noticed that she was wearing not only mascara, but blusher and the faintest touch of eye shadow.
“Ben suggested the gum?” I was surprised. “You mean he talked about something besides work?”
She blushed, then leaned forward and rested her arms on the desk. “The first thing I wanted to tell you is about Ben,” she confided. “He came over yesterday afternoon to see how we were doing, but Mama was taking a nap. At first, he stood in the living room like—what was it you called him? A totem pole? But on impulse, I asked if he’d like to go up to my place for some coffee. I don’t know why I suggested it—Ben and I have never been on that kind of terms. But he’s been so nice since Daddy died, and I’d wondered if maybe he could be shy. We used to have a girl on the soccer team who acted stiff because she was desperately shy. So I took Ben upstairs and fed him coffee and Oreos—remember how they’ve always been my comfort food? Well, they are his, too—and Mac, I swear I didn’t know that man could talk so much. It was like somebody took a cork out of his mouth. We’ve always gotten along real good down at work, but we’d never talked about anything except cars. Yesterday he told me all about his wife—did you know he’d been married? They were going to have a baby, but she and the baby were both killed in a car wreck caused by a drunk driver. Ben told me how that made him lock himself up inside and how he’s finally beginning to thaw. Then he told me about his family, and growing up—did you know he really was a Boy Scout?” If her smile got any wider she’d need two-by-fours to prop up her jaws. “He’s even an Eagle Scout. He talked about how he got Scout from the pound, and what he wants to do with his life—he’d like to own a car-repair business someday. You’d have thought he’d been saving words up inside for years. Then I admitted how scared I was that Skell would sell MacDonald’s, and how I had no clue what I’d do if he did, and Ben said I can come run his business. Suddenly we started laughing and we couldn’t stop. I don’t think either one of us ever talked so much or laughed so hard in our whole lives.”
I had certainly never heard Laura talk that much. Ben wasn’t the only one who’d lost his cork. Only one thing prevented me from wishing her well and teasing her I’d dance at her wedding: how timely it was of Ben Bradshaw to start talking cozy to Laura now that her daddy was dead. Ben had to know that even if Skye didn’t leave the business to Laura, he’d never leave her destitute.
I was wondering whether to say anything about that when Laura said, “But that’s not all. Guess what?” Without giving me time to reply, she started pumping air with both fists. “Daddy didn’t leave the dealership to Skell; he left it to Mama, and she’s giving it to both of us equally!”
“Seriously?” When she nodded, I held out my arms. She surrounded me with hers, and we sat there hugging and giggling like a couple of hyenas until maybe she noticed I was turning purple from lack of air. She let me go and sat back in her chair.
“Daddy hadn’t ever gotten around to actually making a will,” she explained when we’d calmed down a little, “except one they made years ago leaving everything to each other. But the lawyer told Mama that Daddy called him Friday afternoon and said to draw up a new will leaving the business to Mama for her lifetime, then leaving it equally to Skell and me after she died. He told the lawyer he’d been talking to you and Joe Riddley, and he got to thinking it wasn’t fair to leave me out, since I do as much as Skell around the place.”
“Twice as much,” I corrected her.
She shrugged. “Whatever. I enjoy it, and Skell doesn’t. Anyway”—she grew grave—“the lawyer hadn’t gotten it drawn up before Daddy died, of course, but Mama told him if that’s what Daddy wanted, it’s what she wants, too. She told him to draw up papers making us all partners during her lifetime. She’ll get income to live on, but the business will be mine and Skell’s right away.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” I found myself thinking real fond thoughts about Skye right then. “If Skell’s smart, he’ll move somewhere else and let you run the place. If he ever gets home, that is. And your mother can travel.”
Laura nodded and spoke in her usual common-sense tone. “So, now that you’ve heard all my good news, let’s look at those records. What are we looking for?” The soles of her loafers beat a tattoo on the floor, so I knew she was worrying we were there to find evidence against Skell.
“I came down here this morning and got to talking with your young salesman—Whitman?”
That got another chuckle out of her. “He’s not a salesman. He cleans cars when they come in and details them before they leave the lot.”
“What a relief. I was sure your business was on the skids. Anyway, he told me, with a little persuasion, that a man named Raymond calls Jimmy Bratson to reserve certain cars coming up from Florida.”
“Say what?”
“He calls and tells Jimmy to reserve certain cars that are coming up from Florida.”
She sat and digested that for a second. I found myself relieved. Laura wasn’t going to lose her business head, no matter how much she talked and laughed with her head mechanic. She frowned. “He said Jimmy? Not Skell?”
“Whitman said Jimmy. That doesn’t mean Skell’s clean, but one call Whitman took was for Jimmy. I’d be willing to bet Raymond was supposed to get that car Maynard bought.”
She sat a while longer, thinking that over.
“How did you come to hire Bratson?” She didn’t seem likely to ever speak again if I didn’t nudge her a little.
She sprawled her legs out in front of her and slid down in her chair. “I didn’t. Skell did, the first month he was here. He was trying to show us he was taking charge of the place. So he announced one morning that he had hired a top-notch car salesman from Savannah who wanted to live in a smaller town. Daddy said it smelled, and I thought so, too, but since Jimmy’s résumé looked all right, we agreed to give Skell some rope while he settled in. Used-car salesmen come and go. One more was no big deal.” She stopped, then added as if explaining something I didn’t know, “Skell needed to succeed real bad right then. He’d lost his girl-friend, and he’d hated his last two years of college; he needed to feel like he was able to do something right. And Jimmy can sell cars—no doubt about that. He’s a lot better than the others when it comes to total sales for any given month. When Skell said he wanted to make him assistant manager a couple of months back, Daddy and I had no reason to disagree—except we neither one liked the man. But we didn’t have to work with him. He and Skell seemed to get along real well. . . .” For the first time that evening, she sounded uncertain.