“Is there anything we can do to help you?” Edward inquired, his silver eyebrows raised, his face drawn in concern.
“Be alert,” Ben replied simply. “And call me if anything occurs to you, no matter how trivial it might seem.”
“Yes, of course,” Tedi said.
“Let me be off to Mrs. Ramy’s. Oh, Sister, walk out with me to the squad car, will you? Walter, too. Perhaps you two can give me an idea of how to handle Mrs. Ramy.”
As Sister, Walter, and Ben walked outside, Sybil rubbed her eyes for a moment.
Tedi patted her daughter on the back.“It’s sordid, isn’t it?”
“You know, Mom, he was a beautiful thing, like some wild animal—just a beautiful thing.”
“Not anymore,” Ken said softly as he watched the three people outside.
Ben leaned against his brown squad car.“Sister, I apologize to you. I should have asked you last night not to tell anyone about the phone call. Did you talk to anyone else?”
“Walter”—she nodded at the handsome doctor—“and Shaker. Shaker won’t tell anyone. He’s not a talker unless it’s about hounds.”
“Nonetheless, remind him.”
“I will.”
“Walter?” Ben asked him.
Walter shrugged.“No one.”
“Mrs. Arnold, do you have any idea why you were called?”
“No, Ben, I told you, I really don’t and I wish I did.” She made a straight line in the brown pearock with the toe of her boot. “And please call me Sister or Jane, won’t you?”
“I’ll try.” Ben liked this woman. “Look, this is what I know. Whoever called knows you, trusts you, and lives here. Everyone stops at Roger’s Corner in these parts.”
“It’s one of us,” Sister said with no surprise.
“Yes.”
“I wish I could tell you more about the voice. A man’s voice. I sort of recognized it. He was disguising it, of course, muffling it and speaking in a higher tone, but—” She shrugged.
“You may get another call. Whoever called you knows you called me, and whoever called you may be the murderer.”
“After all these years?” Walter hooked his thumb in his belt loop.
“Guilt. Often they want to get caught.”
“And more often they don’t,” Sister sensibly said. “My hunch is whoever called me helped the killer toss that drum over the deep end of the bridge all those years ago.”
“I think your hunch is right,” Ben agreed.
CHAPTER 19
“There’s no hope. I don’t care if I live or die!” Alice Ramy cried, teetering on the brink of hysteria.
She’d held herself together when Ben Sidell visited her. Now Tedi, Edward, Sybil, and Ken had come by to express their sympathy. Sister Jane had also come with them after Tedi had asked her please to do so. Alice couldn’t put a good face on it any longer.
Tedi, perched on the edge of the wing chair where Alice sat crumpled, said,“You do care. You must care.”
“Why?”
“For Guy,” Tedi responded.
“He’s dead. Dead.” She stared at Tedi with vacant eyes.
“You already knew that, didn’t you?” Edward tried to be consoling, but this wasn’t the path to take.
“No! I prayed he had run away. I didn’t want him to be a murderer, but I didn’t want him dead.”
Sister, standing by the other side of the chair, said,“Alice, I believe Nola and Guy died together. If not at the same moment, then because of each other. I pray their souls rest in peace, but I know mine is in a state. I want to find their killer or killers.”
“How?” A flash of life illuminated Alice’s eyes; anger, too. “Especially now. Too much time, Sister, too much time.”
Sybil, sitting across from Alice with Ken by her side, spoke up.“Fate. It’s fate that they died and now it’s fate that they have reappeared. We’re supposed to find the killers.”
“Fate is just an excuse not to do your homework.” Alice smiled ruefully, tears in her eyes now. “When Guy brought home a D in geometry he said it was fate. I said fate is just an excuse not to do your homework. It stuck. There is no such thing as fate.”
Resting a strong hand on Alice’s shoulder, Sister leaned down. “Then let’s do our homework. Try to remember—”
Alice interrupted,“I have!”
“Things can pop into your head at strange times. Come to some hunt breakfasts. Talk to the gang. Something might click,” Sister encouraged her.
“Nobody wants to talk to me.”
“Of course they do,” Tedi said warmly.
“Xavier keeps chickens,” Edward said, smiling.
“Fighting chickens,” Tedi sniffed.
“Not illegal to keep them. Just illegal to fight and bet on them,” Ken responded, trying to humor her, calm her. He didn’t really know what to say.
“Guy used to come home from those cockfights plucked cleaner than the chickens. I don’t believe he ever won a red cent.”
“He won sometimes,” Ken said, trying surreptitiously to check the time. “I was there. You just never saw a penny, Alice, because he spent it on wine, women, and song.”
“Guy could be very naughty.” Alice couldn’t conceal a note of pride. After all, how many women bear a son who is widely considered movie-star handsome?
Tedi, having a different take, said,“So could Nola, unfortunately.”
“Oh, Tedi, she was high-spirited,” Sister said.
“High-spirited with other women’s husbands.”
“Mother,” Sybil exclaimed.
“You thought I didn’t know. Nola was a bad girl. I loved her. I couldn’t help but love her, but men were chess pieces to her. Every man a pawn and she the only queen.”
A moment of embarrassing silence followed, broken when Alice surprisingly said,“She met her match in Guy. That’s why they fell in love. Both of them wild as dogs in heat.” She looked fleetingly at Edward, then Tedi. “Forgive me.”
“It’s the truth,” Tedi agreed.
Edward, not knowing about all of Nola’s amours, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. No father likes hearing these things about his daughter. Tedi certainly had never told him. Nola was the apple of his eye.
Ken, sensing Edward’s pain, said, “Dad, she wasn’t as bad as all that. Nola was a terrible flirt. She didn’t, well, you know …”
Tedi knew that was a flat-out lie but decided to let it pass. No point going into the details in front of everyone. It wouldn’t help Alice.
“Come to our hunt breakfasts. Reacquaint yourself with your neighbors and friends,” Sister said, again extending the invitation. “We go out cubbing Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. If weather’s iffy, I change around the days, but call me up. Once formal hunting starts October twenty-sixth, I’ll send you a fixture card.”
“You’re just trying to get me to let you hunt here. Guy used to beg me to let you do it, but I still won’t. Poor little foxes.”
“Those poor little foxes make fools of us all. But Alice, you know that’s not why I’m here. I mean it. Come out and see us. You’ll be surprised how friendly everyone is. All of Guy’s friends are there. You know Ralph and Xavier. Ronnie Haslip, of course. Ken will be there on Saturdays; sometimes he can squeeze in a weekday. Oh, the Franklins. The boys in their mid-forties—they’re all Guy’s old running buddies.”
“Maybe.”
“Alice, excuse me, but I have to go. Richmond business calls.” Ken stood up.
“Haven’t been to Richmond since 1986.” Alice noticed her mantel clock had stopped running. She’d forgotten to wind it.
“Downtown is a little sad. No Miller and Rhoads, no Thalheimer’s.” Ken mentioned the great department stores that used to draw shoppers like a magnet in the old days. “But it’s much the same. What’s changed is the West End. The shops, the businesses, Alice, they’re all the way out to Manakin Sabot on Broad Street. You just wouldn’t believe it.”