Deader Homes and Gardens Part 10

"What's in it for me?"

"For starters, I won't rat you out to anyone who might give you a well-deserved spanking. If you tell me anything useful, I'll ask Aunt Margaret Louise if you can come spend the night with Caron and Inez. We're talking pizza and the mall."

Jordan jerked her head around to gape at me. "Do you think she will?"

"We're not there yet. I need you to answer my question."

"Is it a big mall?"

"Yes, and whatever toppings you want on the pizza. Please don't tell me about your preferences in pepperoni, olives, and sausage. Did you ever see the woman?"

"I saw someone like that near the greenhouses a couple of weeks ago, talking to Ethan. When I asked him who she was, he told me that she wanted to know about flowering pear trees and catalpas, whatever they are. I was so fascinated that I yawned. Does the mall have a Gap?"

"Considering the current economy, it's possible there are numerous gaps," I said as I thought about what she'd told me. Angela had said that she wasn't going to do anything to enhance her landscaping until the divorce was finalized. That did not preclude the possibility that she a.s.sumed she would end up with her house and was researching future improvements. She had mentioned the autumn sale at the Hollow Valley Nursery, too. "Is that the only time you saw her?"

Jordan grimaced. "Yeah, except for when she almost ran over me on the road. Scared the holy bejeezus out of me. I was walking to the highway to see if there was any hope I could hitch a ride out of here. I literally threw myself into a thicket, and I have the scratches to prove it. By the time I freed myself, she was long gone. Uncle Charles would have convulsions if he'd overheard what I yelled."

"When was that?" I asked.

"The day you showed up. I was still mad, so I decided to sort of hang myself on the statue to prove I wasn't completely invisible. It was too bad that Nattie found me first. I was hoping for Aunt Margaret Louise or Aunt Felicia. That would have made for an awesome scene." Her teeth glinted in the moonlight. "Well, at least I wasn't invisible anymore."

That neatly fit into the timeline, but it wasn't much help. "This happened where the driveway meets the blacktop?"

"It wasn't where the Tigris and the Euphrates meet," she said with a m.u.f.fled snort. "That's in Egypt."

"I gather you didn't ace the geography final. There is a certain value in education, Jordan. You don't want to end up working alongside Rudy." I paused as I heard an engine start. "Why is there so much activity at the nursery?"

"Because the retail nurseries do big business on Sundays, and they want fresh stock. There is a certain value in common sense, Ms. Malloy."

I clenched my teeth while I reminded myself that she was an unhappy fourteen-year-old. Caron had been no worse at that age. "All right," I said, "I'll have a word with Margaret Louise about a brief parole. She may be delighted at the idea of having you out of her hair for a night."

"Which hair?" Jordan asked. "The black s.h.a.g or the dusty brown dreadlocks?"

I was too tired to stop myself from laughing. "She's not a little old lady with a dozen cats. Don't think for a second that you're fooling her."

"Anything to keep from dying of boredom. Would you like to know about aphids, mealy bugs, spider mites, and thrips? Ethan made me look at pictures of the icky things so I can raise an alarm if I see one. Now that's exciting."

"h.e.l.lo?" called Nattie. "Who's out there?"

"I'll speak to your aunt tomorrow, Jordan." I went to the front door, where Nattie was hovering. "I was talking to the Mohawk princess," I said. "Is Moses inside? I want to ask him a few more questions before I go home."

"Come on in," she said. "He may be asleep by now, but I'll check. Would you like coffee and a piece of fresh blackberry pie? Let me get you settled in the kitchen, then I'll go upstairs." I accepted her invitation with the eagerness of a famished coyote. She led me along a hallway to a s.p.a.cious kitchen. The enormous stone fireplace could easily roast a pig on a spit, which presumably it had in the past. The heavy cast-iron andirons and tool set looked authentic. The table was made of long planks of oak that gleamed in the light. A coffeemaker gurgled on the tile countertop. "Sit here, Claire. Do you take your coffee with cream or sugar?"

"Black, please."

She set a steaming cup on the table along with a large wedge of oozy, delectable pie. "You saw Moses earlier? I apologize if he was pestering you. I'm fond of him, but some days he drives me crazier than a bucktoothed rooster. There are times when I think he's faking his dementia just to get on my nerves. If so, he does a fine job." She glanced at the high, smoke-stained ceiling. "You might have more luck talking to him in the morning. He's more lucid then. What are you going to ask him? Please promise me that you won't get him started on the Colonel's half-a.s.sed military exploits during the Civil War. I may strangle him to preserve what little sanity I have."

"I admire you for your patience," I said sincerely. "When Peter's distracted, there have been moments when I've weighed my options."

"I'm the 'designated daughter,' even though I'm a second cousin twice removed. Felicia should have been stuck with the old coot, but she outmaneuvered me by marrying Charles."

I grinned. "I'd take Moses over Charles in a nanosecond."

"Good point." She hesitated, then said, "I'll go look for him-Moses, not Charles. I don't recall having ever looked for Charles. If he gets lost in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights, I won't be in the search party. Try the pie while I go upstairs."

It was heavenly. I tried not to gulp it down, but the temptation lingered with each bite. I was preparing to lick the plate when Nattie reappeared.

"He's not anywhere to be found," she said with a shrug. "He gets agitated when the men are loading the delivery trucks. He's probably spying on them from behind a tree, convinced they're Yankees stealing Confederate gold. Or the Light Brigade organizing their charge on whatever they charged."

"The Russians, in the Battle of Balaclava," I said. "I was an English major."

"Balaclava? An old friend of mine went to a college named Balaclava. She dearly loved it. I'm sorry Moses isn't here. Perhaps I can answer your questions while you have another piece of pie."

A well-mannered lady does not gorge herself in other people's company. "Fine idea," I said. "Just a sliver, though. Moses told me that he saw Angela carrying food into Winston's house. I'm hoping I can get some more details out of him."

"Angela?" Nattie asked blankly.

"The real estate woman who showed me the house last Tuesday. I think that she might have been conducting an affair there. The refrigerator was stocked with cheese, grapes, and cherries." I stopped cold. "Maybe the toxic vodka was meant for her. Someone put the bottle in the liquor cabinet. I don't know what Angela drank, but it could have been vodka and tonic, or screwdrivers."

"Wait a minute," she said. "Your mind is bouncing around like Moses's does, and he has an excuse. Are you on medication?"

"It makes sense," I continued, declining to respond to her ridiculous question. "Angela was the target, not Terry. Only two people knew about the love nest, and one of them has disappeared under mysterious conditions. I wish I had a clue to the ident.i.ty of the second." I sucked on the fork tines while I worked on my latest brilliant theory. "Have you ever seen unfamiliar cars on the blacktop road? Angela has a silver SUV."

She was staring at me as if I'd defied gravity and was rising out of the chair. "On occasion people drive up here, wanting to buy plants. Ethan deals with them, not me. As for a silver SUV, I can't say." She went to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Well, about a month ago I happened to see a car coming out of the driveway. It was dark blue or black, splattered with mud, maybe a Toyota or a Honda. I wasn't paying much attention. I'd taken Moses to a doctor's appointment, and he was complaining loudly about having to have blood drawn. You'd think the nurse had cut open a vein and stuck a garden hose in it."

I finally felt as though I'd learned something of significance. Now all I needed to do was convince Jorgeson to track down all the owners of black or blue Toyotas or Hondas in Farberville and Maxwell County and compare their fingerprints to those in Winston's house-and search the entire valley for Esther's grave.

So many bodies, so little time.

9.

I walked down the road to my car, dug my keys out of my pocket, and glanced at the house that would fade away in a quagmire of legal fights and probate hearings. A light shone in the library, a light that I had not turned on earlier. I was too exhausted to rally much enthusiasm as I went to the porch and tried the front door. It was locked. However, that had not kept Moses from going inside whenever he wished. I continued around the house to the French doors, which were conveniently unlocked. As I entered, I heard a female voice muttering rather vulgar expletives.

Angela might have returned, I thought cautiously, or Esther might have emerged from her hideout in the bas.e.m.e.nt. The latter was a stretch. Peter had examined the wine cellar. If he'd found a one-cell apartment, he would have at least commented on it. Furthermore, it was an absurd idea brought on by desperation and mental fatigue. The house had been remodeled three years ago. Esther was not the contemporary prisoner of Zenda, nor had she a reason to dawdle in Hollow Valley for fifteen years.

I went down the hall to the library and was astounded to find Pandora b.u.t.terfly sitting in the leather chair behind the desk, her feet propped on a rung of the ladder. Her kimono had been replaced by short shorts and a semitransparent blouse that allowed observers to note her lack of anything underneath it. A gla.s.s of red wine was next to an ashtray with a smoldering cigarette. She looked up at me with slitted eyes, then deftly closed her cell phone. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"An excellent question. I have no reasonable explanation for being here. What about you?"

"I needed some privacy." She realized that I was staring at the ashtray. "It's not pot, if that's what you're thinking. It's an organic cigarette, made with additive-free natural tobacco."

"That's good to know. Shouldn't you be out communing with nature beneath the starry sky?"

"I told you that I needed some privacy. The children can track my scent, so the only way to escape is to come over here. They're afraid to cross the blacktop. I warned them that Dearg Due, an Irish vampire, prowls the woods for children. When he catches one, he sucks its blood. Whatever works. If you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy the solitude for a few more minutes." She blew a stream of smoke at me.

I sat down in a leather armchair and said, "As long as we're here, let me ask you a question. Have you seen any unfamiliar cars in the driveway?"

"I pay no heed to the mindless monstrosities from Detroit. They're nothing but cra.s.s metal cages for those who care nothing for the environment. They growl and spew noxious fumes into the air."

"So you walked here from the ashram in California?" I asked. "I'm impressed with your commitment to the environment. You might want to have a word with your husband about those delivery trucks."

Her voice thick with exasperation, she said, "Yeah, right. Why don't you run along home now?"

"I haven't been in training for a marathon, and I loathe blisters. I prefer to sit right here and have a lovely conversation with you. You sounded upset while you were on your cell phone. Do you need sympathy or advice?"

"Let me give you some advice, lady. Eavesdropping is rude, and so are you. I feel a migraine coming on."

"Oh, Pandora b.u.t.terfly, do let me apologize for causing you stress. Let's go gather some herbs and berries to make you a soothing cup of tea. That is among your talents, isn't it? We are weyard sisters. Perhaps we can find a lizard's leg and an owlet's wing to spicen up the brew." I leaned back in the chair and crossed my legs. "Or you can answer my question. I have all night."

She shot me a dark look. "Okay, I saw an SUV turn down this driveway a couple of times. Some woman was driving. I thought maybe she'd been hired by Terry to clean the house periodically. Are you satisfied?"

"Are you certain that you didn't see any other vehicles?"

"Ethan sends workmen down every once in a while to take care of the yard. I have no idea why he bothers, but he said he does it out of respect for Winston. Like Winston cares if the gra.s.s is s.h.a.ggy. His ashes are in the Gulf of Mexico by now." She rolled her eyes like a particular seventeen-year-old I happened to know. "The men come in a pickup truck. Other than them, I haven't seen anybody else around here."

We both heard the sound of a motorcycle as it neared the house and then stopped. I hoped it was a motorcycle, anyway; for all I knew about Dearg Due, he might ride a leaf blower. "Expecting company?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said as she leaped up and made it out the door before I could stop her (had I intended to do so, which I hadn't). She continued out the front door. Almost immediately, the engine roared. I arrived in time to see Pandora clinging to the driver as the motorcycle sped in the direction of the blacktop. Seconds later, the noise began to wane.

"Humph," I said as I returned to the library to turn off the light. Pandora's cell phone was on the desk. Unlike mine, which was designed for time travelers from the fifteenth century, hers had a myriad of b.u.t.tons, arrows, and keys. When I pushed the ON b.u.t.ton, a screen covered with quaint doodads came to life. I squinted until I spotted a tiny rectangle that implied it would redial the last number. Impressed with my techno-triumph, I made myself comfortable in the leather chair, took a breath, and hit the b.u.t.ton.

"Devil's Roost," a man said. The words were barely discernible over blaring music and shouting in the background.

"I apologize for bothering you," I said loudly, "but were you speaking to Pandora b.u.t.terfly about five minutes ago?"

"Who?" he shouted. "You have to speak up. It's d.a.m.n crazy here, what with the band screeching like hogs gettin' butchered. Rowena! Get over to that booth afore they take to wiping the floor with those college boys!"

"Pandora b.u.t.terfly!" I shouted as loudly as he had.

"Ain't no b.u.t.terflies here!"

For a split second, I wished I'd been a cheerleader in my past. I did my best to turn up my volume. "I'm talking about a woman with long blond hair! She calls herself Pandora b.u.t.terfly!"

"You mean Pandy? No, she ain't been here since I kicked her out on her b.u.t.t. I got enough trouble with the cops without that b.i.t.c.h selling drugs. If you're a friend of hers, you ain't welcome neither!"

The band ended its cacophony with a chorus of atonal howls. There was still plenty of noise from what must have been a very inebriated crowd, but I was relieved to be able to speak in a more normal voice. "Let me make sure we're talking about the same person. This woman named Pandy-about five-seven, frizzy blond hair that hangs to the middle of her back?"

"Who's this?" he countered.

Although I had no scruples about lying to him, I wasn't going to win his confidence if I claimed to be her friend. "She's no friend of mine," I said firmly. "She owes me money. Five minutes ago she was talking to somebody at this number. Was it you?"

There was a pause. "This is a pay phone, honey. I don't keep tabs on the customers who use it. Hang on and lemme see if Rowena noticed."

I listened to men and women shrieking at each, mostly in words of one syllable that they had not learned at their mothers' knees. Some of the lewd propositions sounded anatomically implausible. I had no idea where the Devil's Roost was but reminded myself to find out so that I could stay outside a ten-mile radius. I was becoming engrossed by an exchange between someone named Jude and his girlfriend, Izzy, who was perturbed that someone named Tiawana was crawling all over him, when my confidante came back on the line.

"Rowena says she saw Zeppo on the phone a while back. He jabbered for five minutes, then took off."

"On a motorcycle?" I asked.

"He's got a banged-up standard chopper with a sissy bar. He claims it can hit a double ton, but he's an idiot."

"Okay," I said, mystified by the jargon but fairly certain that he'd referred to a motorcycle. "Thanks for your help."

"Any time you're out this way, stop by and ask for Jimmie John. You and me can get to know each other better. I got the-" Babeldom drowned out any elaboration of the invitation, which was for the best.

"I'll keep it in mind." I turned off the cell phone. I hadn't bought Pandora's pretense earlier, and it was gratifying to know that my intuition was as flawless as always. I hadn't cast her in the role of a drug dealer, though. Nattie wasn't aware of Pandora's double life. If Charles and Felicia Finnelly had known, they would have demanded an old-fashioned Salem witch trial. Ethan surely wouldn't have tolerated her jaunts to the Devil's Roost, no matter how profitable they were.

I turned out the light in the library and went to my car. I was too tired to try to even remember everything that had happened during the previous twelve hours, and it took all of my energy to drive safely. When I arrived home, I said good night to Caron and Inez and went directly to bed. I did not pa.s.s Go or attempt to collect two hundred house keys.

I was nursing a cup of coffee when Inez and Caron joined me in the living room. They watched me like a pair of hyenas, waiting for me to expire on the sofa. I ignored them as long as I could, then said, "You're wasting your time. We won't get the house, no matter what happens. Go outside and play in the sandbox. I'll bring you cookies and juice in an hour or two."

"We don't have a yard, Mother," Caron said. "I suppose we could go play in the Dumpster behind the sorority house next door. Maybe we can find some food."

"Like rotten vegetables," Inez added.

I very carefully put down the cup. "There's no point in getting angry at me. I want the house more than you do. You'll go away to college in a year. I had dreams of living out my golden years in a meadow, reading Emily d.i.c.kinson to the larks and the bluebirds. I was going to learn how to cook gourmet dishes sprinkled with fresh herbs from my garden. All my favorite books would be on the highest shelf in the library so I'd have to use the ladder. It's not going to happen. On Monday I guess Peter and I will start looking for a lot and an architect. We should be able to move into our new house by Christmas, if there aren't any glitches."

Caron sighed. "Can't you Do Something? What if everybody in that weird family is a coconspirator in Terry's death, and when they all go to jail, you can buy the house from them so they can buy gum at the prison canteen?"

"It doesn't work that way," I said wearily.

"How about this, Ms. Malloy?" Inez said suggested. "You find out that they're guilty and blackmail them?"

"I don't think that we'd be comfortable knowing that all of our neighbors have a reason to murder us in our beds." I gazed at their identical woebegone faces, wondering how long they'd practiced in the mirror the previous evening. "Give it up, girls. Why don't you clean out Caron's closet? Maybe you'll come across Barbie's Dream House. You can play make-believe all day long."

"I torched it when I was in fifth grade, remember? I wrote a report on arson," Caron said, then frowned at me. "Are you really going to let those people get away with it, Mother?"

I thought about it for a long while. "I don't want to let anyone get away with anything," I said at last. "The whole thing is so incredibly confusing. There should be a logical way to connect the dots, but I can't even figure out where to start."

"Start at the beginning," Inez murmured.

It was better than brooding for the next six months, I told myself. I looked at Inez and said, "Get a notebook and a pen. This may take a while."

It took over two hours, as it turned out. Inez carefully noted names, relationships, estimated dates, presumptions, facts, and fanciful hypotheses based on nothing whatsoever. We took breaks for food (chips and crackers), beverages (coffee and sodas), and trips to the bathroom (best unspecified). They turned off their cell phones. When Inez's hand cramped, Caron took over the secretarial duties. By the time we gave up, we had a dozen pages of scribbles, arrows, stars, and deletions. The margins looked as if spiders had dipped their legs in blue ink and danced with abandonment.

The three of us were reduced to numb despair. I went out to the balcony, as frustrated as I'd ever been, and waited for a lightning bolt to energize me. Caron came out and leaned her head on my shoulder. I knew it was a ploy, but I appreciated the gesture all the same. "d.a.m.n it," I said, "I am not going to let the guilty party get away with it. Maybe it's true that revenge is best served cold, but it's not going to be served freeze-dried on a tarnished platter."