Chapter 40
“Julia,” Sam said as I walked into the kitchen the next morning and found him having breakfast at home for a change. “Have you seen this?” He held up the morning paper.
“No,” I said, smiling in spite of my usual pre-coffee reserve. “I just got up.”
“Well, come look at it. It doesn’t give a lot of details, but it’s about the Great Money Windfall at the beach.”
Craving a much-needed cup of coffee, I glanced at the small article, datelined Charleston, SC, which had been belatedly picked up by the local paper. “Why, Sam, it hardly says anything—nothing more than what we heard the morning it happened.”
“I know, but look at the last sentence mentioning that the Coast Guard patrols that stretch of the coast on the lookout for smugglers. It doesn’t say that the boat was involved in smuggling, but it sure implies it was. Those on board were questioned and released, so, obviously, no evidence was found.”
“Right,” I said, heading for the coffeepot, “maybe because they’d thrown their ill-gotten gains overboard. We’d already figured that out.”
“Wait, honey,” Sam said, holding out the newspaper, “look at this. It says that they questioned and released two men and a woman. And,” he went on, holding up a finger as if he were summing up before a jury, “who did you meet when you and the children took a walk that morning? Two men and a woman!”
“Yes!” I agreed, stopping short as a shiver ran down my back. “And they followed us in the evacuation where Lloyd saw the woman roll down her window!”
For a minute there, it seemed that we had reached a sudden understanding of what was going on. But that quickly faded, because we knew little more than we had before the paper had been delivered. Except that we’d possibly linked the three beach scavengers to the incapacitated boat from which the money had come.
Which meant, it suddenly seemed to me, that they’d been the very ones who’d thrown the money overboard. No wonder Lloyd had felt uneasy with them, and no wonder I could tell in an instant that they weren’t from the South. The only time that people from around here throw money away is when they’re having a good time doing it.
“But the question remains,” Sam said, “why us? Or Lloyd? Or Pickens, or whomever they’re interested in? I saw people clutching handfuls of hundred-dollar bills. None of us got a single one. So-o,” Sam went on in a musing way, “that has to mean that they’re after something besides the money, something more valuable to them than that. I mean, why else risk breaking into Pickens’s car and finding nothing but his address? Which, I’m thinking, may have been all they’d wanted. I tell you, Julia, I’m liking this less and less.”
“And to think that we actually had a pleasant chat with smugglers, and didn’t know it. Well, with only one of them—his name was Rob—because the other two weren’t very friendly. Even at the time, it seemed to me that at least those two were the results of poor raising. Breeding, too, for all I know.”
I could easily have gone off on a digression about family genes, proper child instruction, and good manners, all in an effort not to think of what I was thinking. But it would’ve done no good.
I was thinking it, so I said it. “What on earth could we have that they want so badly?”
“Or,” Sam said, “what do they think we have?”
There was no answer to that in our current state of ignorance, so there was nothing for it but to carry on with our normal activities. Lillian had been unusually quiet while Sam and I had discussed the situation, but she hadn’t missed much of the conversation.
As Sam excused himself and left to go upstairs, she said, “Miss Julia, you think the chil’ren be all right?”
“I do, Lillian, I really do. We’re watching them like hawks, and they’re never on their own anywhere. Mr. Pickens will soon be home, and Coleman will be on duty Monday morning. We just need to hold on till then, and they’ll put a stop to whatever’s going on.”
“Yes’m, I guess, but Latisha, she countin’ on goin’ back to Miss Hazel Marie’s today. I don’t want Latisha worryin’ her to death day in and day out, so maybe I ought to let her use that hot gun over here.”
“Whatever you think, Lillian, but Hazel Marie is aware of our concern, and you know she’ll take care of her.”
“Yes’m, I know she will, an’ I tell you, I get more work done when Latisha somewhere else—like in school, which I wish would hurry up and start.”
I smiled at that, listening to the early morning stir emanating from upstairs as Sam and the children readied themselves for the day. Then, clomping down the stairs like a herd of cattle, Latisha and Lloyd came into the kitchen, both dressed for the day—Lloyd in tennis attire and Latisha in a sundress with her red pocketbook draped over her shoulders—crossbody, I think it’s called. She was carrying those plastic sacks of shells that went everywhere she did.
“Tennis all day today, Miss Julia,” Lloyd announced, zipping the cover around his racket. “We’re playing over at that private club with the indoor courts. So if it rains, we’ll still be ready for the team tryouts next week.”
“You’ll have no trouble making the team, I’m sure,” I said, although I knew he was preparing for the challenges that would be coming.
“Well,” Latisha confidently announced, “I’m gonna finish my surprise today. That glue gun is the best thing I ever had. I’m gonna get me one for Christmas. If not before.”
“Uh-huh,” Lillian said with a roll of her eyes.
“Okay, kids,” Sam said, putting his raincoat over his arm, “ready to go?” He leaned over to give me a kiss, then said, “You don’t mind picking them up? Since Lloyd will be playing indoors, I’ll give that mountain property another look, though we’ll probably get rained on again.”
Lillian said, “They say more rain on the way, an’ I b’lieve it. My foot justa achin’ this morning.”
I looked at her with concern. “Well, sit down, Lillian, and elevate it. And, yes, Sam,” I said, turning to him, “I’ll be right here all day so I can get the children whenever they’re ready to come home. Please don’t drown on that mountainside.”
I watched from the door as the children and Sam squished across a waterlogged yard to the car, glanced up at the clouds threatening to unleash more rain, and sighed.
“Lillian,” I said, closing the door and relishing the quiet in the kitchen, “I am so tired of this weather. It’s been one storm after another this whole month, but only one official enough to have a name. Now I want you to take something for that aching foot, then sit down and rest.”
“Yes’m, let me get this last pan in the dishwasher, an’ I think I’ll do jus’ that.”
I went across the back hall to the library, my favorite room in the house, shivering a little in the dampness even though it was August, and debated turning on the gas fire in the fireplace. I resisted, though, and instead slipped on a cotton cardigan, sat down to read the newspaper, and adamantly refused to dwell on what I could do nothing about. Namely, three strangers with an uncommon interest in us.
I’d barely gotten to page three of the paper when the phone rang.
“Julia,” LuAnne demanded almost before I got “Hello” out of my mouth, “you’re not busy, are you? I need to talk to you. I want you to be the first to know.”
“Well, no, I’m not busy. When—”
“Good, because I’m at the front door. Come let me in.”
Thinking What in the world has she done, I hurried to the door through which LuAnne immediately marched, stiff and resolute. I followed her, murmuring a greeting, as she went directly to the library and took a seat on the sofa.
“Julia, you’re the first one I’m telling, and I want you to know that I have no regrets and no second thoughts. I’m leaving Leonard.”
“Oh, LuAnne, are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m here, aren’t I? And I’ve already told him, so the die is cast. I mean, after what I’ve learned, thanks to you, how could I stay with him? And when what he’s just done gets around, nobody will blame me.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what else has he done?”
“He picked her up after work yesterday, walked out of the courthouse together as big as you please. He’s gone public with her, and I am not going to put up with it. I got a good look at her and she was just as you described—ankle-length dress and all. But, Julia, you didn’t notice enough details, because I cannot believe what she looks like. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it.”
Oh, me, I mentally moaned, thinking that LuAnne had seen her own resemblance to Totsie. How hurt she must be that Leonard prefers a frowzier, though slightly younger, version of herself.
“Maybe,” I said, temporizing before committing myself, “being knocked on the head affected my vision.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get an eyeful soon enough, because she’ll probably move in as soon as I move out. Which won’t be long. I’m on my way now to look at Miss Mattie’s apartment. If she could afford it, I probably can too.”
“I hope you’ve thought this through, LuAnne. Are you sure you want to burn your bridges? It’s a big step to make.”
“I should’ve made it long before now.” LuAnne stood up, standing as stiff and tall as her short stature would allow. “No woman worth anything would put up with a man who would choose her exact opposite to take her place. Julia,” she said, whirling on me, “that woman, that Totsie, is the most unlikely replacement for me that I’ve ever seen. The least he could’ve done was to find somebody who outdid me in some way—I mean, in looks or class or something. Then I could understand it, but, no. He goes out and finds somebody so unkempt, so overweight, and so dowdy that it makes my skin crawl. I thought he’d have better taste than that, but if that’s what he wants, he can have her. I have her beat, hands down!” Then she whirled around and headed for the door. “I’ve got to go before that apartment’s gone.”
And off she went, leaving me breathless and agitated because she had not seen the resemblance at all.
But on second thought, maybe deep down she had, which would make even worse Leonard’s choice of a copy instead of the real thing.