Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 13
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“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
David Moore still worked as a bag boy at the Piggly Wiggly. I’d first discovered that he worked there after being kicked off the jury of his best friend’s murder trial. David had been a witness, and I’d once cornered him in the parking lot, looking for information. Since David and Bruce Wayne Decker didn’t have the best work history, I was surprised he was still working there two months later.
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
David Moore still worked as a bag boy at the Piggly Wiggly. I’d first discovered that he worked there after being kicked off the jury of his best friend’s murder trial. David had been a witness, and I’d once cornered him in the parking lot, looking for information. Since David and Bruce Wayne Decker didn’t have the best work history, I was surprised he was still working there two months later.
