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Authors: Denise Grover Swank

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BOOK: Thirty and a Half Excuses
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“Oh.” I couldn’t help wondering if Mason would have presumed that I was guilty of my mother’s murder like the entire Henryetta police department had done. I’d like to think he would have been fair. “Do you really think Miss Dorothy and Miss Laura died of natural causes? Doesn’t it seem suspicious?”

“You know this is official business, and I’m really not supposed to be telling you. But after everything you’ve been through over the last few months, I suspect you need some peace of mind.” Glancing back at the house, he lowered his voice. “I think they both died of natural causes because I’ve got nothing to make me suspect that they didn’t. No break-ins. No sign of stolen belongings. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“What did they find in Miss Laura’s autopsy?”

“They didn’t do one. The county is strapped for cash, and it costs several thousands of dollars to ship the bodies to Little Rock and back and pay the pathologists. We don’t do autopsies if it looks like natural causes.”

“Oh.” I’d never considered that.

He leaned his hip against the side of his car. “Congrats again on the opening of your nursery.”

My eyebrows shot up. “So does this mean you’re officially through with ignoring me?”

He studied the ground, a sheepish grin spreading across his face, then looked me in the eyes. “That was quite unlike me. I don’t usually let other people dictate my behavior.”

“So why start with Joe?”

Mason paused. “We have history.” I expected him to continue, but he stared at the baby instead.

“So he said.”

His eyes widened as his gaze shifted to me. “He told you what happened?”

“No” was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I’d probably just blown any opportunity to get information out of Mason, but I wasn’t willing to give up yet. “Why don’t you tell me your side of the story?”

He reached for the handle. “Good try.”

I grabbed his hand and pulled it away from the door, surprised he didn’t resist. “Mason, if this involves me, I have a right to know.”

“With all due respect, Rose, it really doesn’t involve you. If Joe said the only reason he warned me to stay away from you was because of the history he and I have, he’s lying.”

My mouth dropped. “Warned you? As in physically threatened you?”

Mason’s mouth pursed.

“Why would he do that?”

His voice lowered. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. It’s not.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled before returning his gaze to me. “I’d rather keep that chapter of my life closed for good.” His face hardened. “But if I was in a serious relationship, I would share it with the woman in my life. She would have a right to know.” He started to say something, then swallowed and pinched his lips.

“What? What aren’t you telling me?”

“The question isn’t what I’m not telling you, it’s what’s Joe not telling you?”

Anger rose in my chest. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

“We’ve only…we’re…”

Mason leaned closer, lowering his voice again. “It’s obvious how you two feel about each other. Do you know I field at least two calls a week from your neighbor Mildred about your public displays of affection in your front yard?” His shoulders tensed. “But what do you know about Joe’s family? What do you know about his life in Little Rock before you two were together? The man I see with you isn’t the man I knew in Little Rock, but the reality is that he’s still the same guy.”

Before I could get my wits about me to ask about the Joe he knew, Mason had climbed into his car and driven away.

Chapter Four

My conversation with Mason shook me up more than I cared to admit. I checked on Heidi Joy to make sure she wasn’t going to pass out, then went home to let Muffy out. When I came back outside with my dog, Heidi Joy’s four-year-old son Keith stood in her front yard, staring at the police car.

“Was that a dead body?” he asked.

I looked down the street at Heidi Joy. I knew her husband was at work. “Where are your brothers?”

His face scrunched with irritation. “Was it a dead body or not?”

“That was Miss Dorothy. And yes, she died. Now where are your brothers?”

“Andy Jr.’s at school, and Benny and Tommy are sleeping.”

“Why aren’t you napping?” Heidi Joy had to be really shaken up to have left them alone. That was so unlike her. She wouldn’t even let them leave their yard.

His eyes narrowed. “I ain’t no baby.” He craned his neck to get a better view. “How come she’s dead?”

“She was old, and old people die.” I suddenly wondered if I should have said anything. When I was four, I had no concept of death. This was a subject better left for Heidi Joy and Andy.

“Did she have a heart attack?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do people yell when they die?”

I shrugged. “I suppose some people do.” I’d never thought about whether my mother yelled when Daniel Crocker hit her in the head with her rolling pin. If she did, no one heard her. That thought sent a shiver down my spine. “Why would you ask that?”

“I heard yelling.”

I swung my gaze down to him. “What?”

He looked at me like I was stupid. “There was yelling coming from her house this morning.”

“How do you know it was coming from her house?”

His face lowered, and he refused to look me in the eye. “I was across the street.”

I turned my attention to the crowd and realized Thomas’s car was gone. Maybe he’d made it to school after all. “Across the street from her house?”

“That’s what I said, ain’t it?” Keith meant to sound defensive, but he sounded nervous instead.

“Were you supposed to be down that far?” I knew for a fact he wasn’t. I’d heard Heidi Joy yell at the boys several times a day not to leave their yard. But now I’d scared him, and he’d never tell me anything. “I won’t tell your mom.”

He looked up through squinted eyes. “Why not?”

“I thought you and I were friends. I let you play with Muffy don’t I?”

“Yeah, but you always let Andy Jr. be in charge.”

“Well, how about when Andy Jr. is at school,
you
can be in charge?”

His eyes widened. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. See, we’re friends.”

Keith grinned with a smug look.

“So tell me about the yelling.”

He squatted and petted Muffy. “I heard two people shouting.”

“What did they say?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I couldn’t understand them.”

“Were they happy yelling or angry yelling?”

“There’s happy yelling?”

“Well, yeah. You know when you’re really excited about something. Like you and your brothers when you’re running around with Muffy.”

“Oh.” His mouth pursed. “Mad yelling.”

“Did you see anyone? Do you know who it was?”

He shook his head, frustration wrinkling his brow. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if it was a man or a woman?”

He shook his head again. “No, when I heard yelling, I ran home.”

Keith was pretty fearless, so if the yelling scared him that much, it must have been loud. I rubbed his head. “That’s okay, Keith. You were a huge help.” What was I going to do with this information? The police would never listen to me, and I could only think of one person who might. “Hey, I need to go inside and make a phone call. Would you mind watching Muffy for me for a minute?”

“Would I?” He squatted next to Muffy, rubbing her head a little too hard, but I bit my tongue. She jumped up and licked his face, so she obviously didn’t mind.

When I went inside, I left the kitchen door open to keep an eye on them. Heidi Joy was still down the street, and I wasn’t about to leave Keith and Muffy totally unsupervised.

Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I called the number I’d stored in my phone for Mason, thankful he’d given it to me after saving me from Skeeter Malcolm at the pool hall. His number went straight to voicemail, and I tried to figure out what message to leave him as I listened to his voicemail recording.

“Hey, Mason. This is Rose.” I paused. “I might have some information about Miss Dorothy. You can call me back on this number.”

I wasn’t sure what Keith had heard or if it even had anything to do with Miss Dorothy’s death. When I was investigating Frank Mitchell’s murder in my attempt to help prove Bruce Wayne innocent, Joe had taught me that sometimes things aren’t what they seem to be. I couldn’t presume this meant Miss Dorothy had met with a foul end. For all I knew, Keith had heard her television.

After I sent Keith back in his house, I found my tape measure in my junk drawer. I grabbed a pad of graph paper, and then tucked Muffy into the bathroom. Thankfully, Heidi Joy was on her way back when I was ready to leave. I never would have left Keith and his napping brothers alone.

I met her in the driveway. “Keith came outside and asked about Miss Dorothy.”

Her eyes flew open in horror. “Oh my word! I just ran off and left them! You must think I’m the worst mother in the world.”

“You?” I scoffed. “You’re a
wonderful
mother. You were just startled about Miss Dorothy. Did you find out anything else?”

She shook her head. “No, thank goodness. Everyone’s saying it was natural causes. I’m not sure what I’d do if there was an actual murder on our street.” Her hand flew up to her open mouth. “Rose, I’m so sorry. Sometimes my mouth starts flappin’ before I know what I’m saying. Your mother…”

Too many memories of my mother’s murder had been dragged out of the vault I’d locked them in. “Don’t worry about it. I understand. You have your babies to think about.” I gave her a smile, even if I didn’t feel like offering one. “I have to get going. You should go lie down. You still look pale.”

She nodded and took the baby inside.

I had a lot to mull over on the drive to the New Living Hope Revival Church, but my conversation with Mason took precedence. What had Joe and Mason done that neither wanted to confess? When I let myself dwell on it, a ball of fear took root in my stomach. I wouldn’t have taken the situation this seriously if both of them hadn’t been so adamant about not telling me. What worried me the most was Joe’s comment he’d randomly made over the last couple of months that he wished he were Joe McAllister, the name he’d used while living undercover next door to me.

Could Joe Simmons really be so different?

The site of the New Living Hope Revival Church had only recently been christened with its new name. In its previous incarnation, the church had been the First Presbyterian Church of Henryetta. The Presbyterian Church had lost a lot of members to the Southern Baptist Church, and their income suffered, forcing them to find a smaller building. This one had been empty for two years when Reverend Jonah Pruitt came to town three months ago. Jonah secured the lease, and then promptly began to add followers to his fold, many of whom were lured there by the cameras. He had a small television following, but since coming to Henryetta, he had begun to attract the notice of the national media. The fact that the new Henryetta members came from the town’s existing churches didn’t sit so well with many of the townsfolk. I was certain that this had played a factor in Jonah’s decision to support Violet and me. He probably wanted to look more community friendly. As long as he paid us, I didn’t care about his motives.

There were a few cars in the parking lot—a couple of run-down older ones and a white Cadillac with the license plate
Rev JP.
Classy. I parked in the shade of a giant oak tree and began to survey the grounds, pad in hand. While there were landscape beds on all four sides of the large church, many were full of overgrown bushes in need of pruning. I’d add weeding and grooming to the list of things we could offer the reverend.

After I sketched the building on the graph paper, I began marking the beds and how many flowers they needed, then listed all the labor. Half the beds were filled to the brim with bushes and perennials, but they were neglected and overgrown, and it was going to take some work to get them ready.

When I got back to the nursery, Violet and I drew up a plan. The lack of flower beds disappointed her, but we came up with several options to increase our profits, including potted plants to put around the grounds and revival tent to add a bit of color.

“This is great, Rose,” Violet said, lifting the hair off the back of her neck. “But look at all the manual labor that needs to get done. How are we gonna do that
and
work here?”

“I told you I had a couple of guys in mind.”

She squinted. “Who are they?”

I hesitated. “Let me see if they are available first. If they aren’t, I’ll check with the temporary employment office.” Violet started to protest, but I interrupted her. “Miss Dorothy died.”

She placed her hand on her chest. “
What
?”

“An ambulance and police car were in front of her house when I went home to get the tape measure.”

“What happened? Was it…”

“Murder?” Funny how Violet gave me a hard time about looking for the worst when her mind went there too. “Mason said it was natural causes like Miss Laura, but it sure seems like a strange coincidence.”

Violet shuddered. “Mason? Why was Mason there?”

“He said he’s been going to all the scenes where they find a dead body.”

“Don’t talk about Miss Dorothy that way.” Tears filled her eyes. “Poor Miss Dorothy. I wondered why she didn’t come to the opening.”

“Mildred said she was planning on going. That’s why she checked on Miss Dorothy when she got home. And then she found her lying on her living room floor.”

“We’ll have to make a casserole,” Violet mumbled.

My squinted my confusion. “Who are we gonna make a casserole for? She didn’t have any kids, and last I heard, her niece moved away.”

“Her sister lives at Happy Meadows in assisted living.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t surprised Violet knew this. She’d been close to Miss Dorothy when she was a kid.

Glancing at the clock, I realized it was close to five. If I was going to get a check from Reverend Jonah, I needed to get to the church within the next half hour.

But first I had to stop at the Piggly Wiggly.

Chapter Five

BOOK: Thirty and a Half Excuses
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