Heather met Steve in the hallway outside their rooms at the Wells Mansion. “Did you want to go out for supper or take Traci up on her offer to eat casseroles?”
Steve didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take food from church ladies any time I can get it. For potluck dinners and church socials, they whip up their best recipes and see whose food disappears first.”
“I didn’t realize cooking for a grieving family was a competition sport.”
“Not as much as potlucks, but the cooks take pride in their work all the same.” Steve didn’t move. “Did you know there’s a protocol when eating at a church social?”
“Do tell.”
“The first time around, take small portions of as many things as you want, or until you run out of plate. When you finish your first round, go back and get another helping of the dishes you liked the most. Think of it as voting in a primary election and then choosing your candidates in the general election.”
Heather walked to the stairway. “Sometimes it feels like I’m living in a foreign country.”
Once downstairs, they followed the sound of voices until they reached the kitchen. Sara Jane greeted them with a tired smile. “I hope you brought enormous appetites. Traci can’t give away food fast enough and I’ll need new clothes if I don’t slow down.”
Traci came from the refrigerator with both hands full. “I’m dragging out as many dishes as will fit on the bar. Don’t be bashful. Take a little of everything or a lot of whatever you want. We have two microwaves, so it won’t take long to heat and serve.” She took a breath. “Steve, come with me. I’ll tell you what each dish is and you can say if you’d like to try it.”
Steve waved a hand at her. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ll try a little of everything on the first go-around.”
Heather looked at the row of selections reaching from one end of the bar to the other. It reminded her of the buffet on a trans-Atlantic cruise she’d taken as a teen.
Instead of going to the dining room table, Steve asked if he and Heather could enjoy their meal in the kitchen’s breakfast nook. Sara Jane and Traci heated their food and joined them. With the first round of Steve’s journey into epicurean bliss ended, Leon made his presence, and displeasure, known to all. His rant started before he entered the kitchen.
“Sara Jane, I can’t take any more. We’re putting the house on the market as soon as I can find a real estate agent besides Belinda.” He entered the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt when he saw their guests. “Sorry. I didn’t realize—”
Steve waved off the apology. “I used to tell my wife the same thing after I’d had a rough day.”
Traci took over. “I’m finished. Take my seat, Dad. I’ll heat your supper. Do you want a beer to help you cool off?”
Leon shook his head. “Iced tea or water. I’ve been running all day without a break.”
Sara Jane patted her husband’s hand. “Take a deep breath. You’re home now.”
“Did you eat lunch today?” asked Traci.
“No lunch or breakfast.”
“Your blood sugar must be near zero. Some sweet tea and these casseroles will have you back to normal in no time.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Leon made a slash in the air across his eyebrows. “I’ve had it up to here with Belinda.”
Traci tented her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me she had you doing yard work again.”
“She wants flowers to line her driveway this year, and she didn’t want to hear about me helping the Palmers.”
Steve settled his fork on his plate. “I thought you split your time between the two families.”
“Everything changed when Amanda died. Belinda gave me so many priority chores to do that I haven’t had time to detail any of their vehicles, let alone be of much use to Craig and Mindi.”
Traci rubbed wide circles on her stomach and looked toward the house next door. “One day soon, karma will catch up with the Matthersons.”
Steve’s phone sounded an incoming call from Leo Vega. He told the phone to reject the call. “I’ll get back to him in a few minutes.”
The interruption changed the vibe in the room. Leon dug into his meal while Traci fumed in silence. They seemed to have traded roles as parent and teen. This left Sara Jane to keep up a conversation. “Could I get you something else, Steve?”
“No, thanks.”
“What about dessert? We have four different pies and two cakes.”
“Perhaps later. Heather and I need to return that phone call.”
Traci led them out the back door. Once out of earshot, she said. “Please tell me it won’t be much longer before this nightmare is over.”
Steve leaned on his cane. “If this call and one more interview go the way we hope, it will only be a day or two.”
“I’m trusting you more than you know.”
Heather spoke up. “He knows more than you think. Don’t worry.”
Once settled in a lawn chair by the pool, Steve instructed his phone to call Leo. Heather looked to the third floor of the Mattherson mansion. The curtains were open and the bottom half of the window didn’t reflect. The glass on the top half of the window kept her from making out anything but the legs of a tripod and someone standing behind it. She mumbled under her breath, “Get a good look while you still can.”
Steve and Leo ended their banter by the time Heather brought her attention back to the phone call. Instead of activating the speaker option, Steve had the phone pressed hard against his ear. She could hear Steve’s side of the conversation, but could only guess what Leo had to tell him.
“Did you have any trouble getting the video from Rice University?”
Heather crossed her fingers, hoping the news was good.
“Great. What about the make of the vehicle and the plates?”
Steve faced her and nodded.
“How did Captain Price react?”
Not being able to hear both sides of the conversation grated on Heather’s nerves.
“I’ll call you back tonight after we talk to our cat lady. Plan on a road trip tomorrow.”
A short riff played, indicating the call ended. Steve pulled the phone from his ear and stood. “Let’s pay Babbs a visit. Can you find a way through the hedges again?”
She grabbed Steve by the arm. “Next time, tell that phone of yours to go to speaker so I can hear.”
“Sorry. Leo came through for us in a big way. I’ll explain on the way.”
Heather glanced at a particular window of the Mattherson Mansion. “We’re being watched. Do you want to wait until it’s dark?”
“They can look all they want. It doesn’t matter now.”
A dozen or more shining eyes watched as Heather led Steve to the front door of the bungalow. Babbs answered the knock and gushed a greeting. “Look, Clarence and Pearl, I told you they’d come visit you tonight. Come in. Come in.”
Heather settled Steve in the same chair he’d occupied the last time they came to the modest home. The two cats wasted no time in leaping to the arms of the chair to receive strokes. “Hey, you two. Max wanted me to say hello. In fact, he sent you a present.” Steve reached in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a sealed plastic bag.
Babbs’s lips separated into a wide smile. “How thoughtful. It’s two little stuffed toys. They look like mice.”
Steve unzipped the bag and allowed each cat to get a good sniff of the gifts. Tails twitched.
“They’re stuffed with catnip,” said Heather.
With a flick of his wrists, Steve pitched the two toys halfway across the room. Clarence and Pearl went airborne in pursuit. They scooped their prizes into their mouths and scaled the kitty gym until they perched on two of the uppermost platforms.
Babbs responded with applause. “I haven’t seen those two so excited since they were kittens.” She shifted her gaze to Steve. “You’re a good man. Cats can tell.”
After rejecting an offer of coffee or tea, Steve got down to business. “We wanted to give you a progress report on our investigation. We know who killed Amanda, how they did it, and we believe we know why.” He paused. “Let me amend that last part. We think we know why, but I’m convinced there’s more to the story than we’ve been able to uncover. We need your help.”
Babbs looked off into space. “I remember the first time I heard the Beatles sing ‘Help’. It was late summer of 1965.” She hummed the tune.
Heather wondered why Steve didn’t say something to bring Babbs back to the present, but he remained quiet until she’d finished and brought her gaze back to him.
Steve scooted to the edge of his chair and used his serious, low-volume voice. “It’s time for you to listen closely and answer my next question seriously.” Again he paused. “Are you ready to put an end to the feuds?”
She looked away again. “‘Yesterday’ was on the same album with ‘Help.’”
Heather bit her lip. Babbs was drifting away again into a world of days long ago.
“I know about the Beatles,” said Steve. “My mother loved the early albums. I grew up listening to them. ‘Yesterday’ is a song about someone’s true love leaving them and the devastating effects it had on the person left behind. That person was you. You believed you were whole with that person, but only half a woman without him. That’s what you thought, wasn’t it? You’d never be whole without Charles Palmer.”
Her eyes pooled with tears. “Everyone called him Chuck. He wasn’t strong enough to stand up to his father. All because of the silly feud.”
“What did he receive for breaking up with you?”
Babbs took in a full breath and released it. “There’s no fooling you, is there, Steve?”
Babbs sat up straight. “What did Chuck receive? Anything and everything a young man could dream of. He had to choose between obeying his father and grandfather, or someday marrying me. He never got down on a knee, but ours was so much more than puppy love. Both of our families would have disowned us, but we said we didn’t care. At least, at first.”
She let out a sigh. “It turns out he did care. Chuck chose riches over poverty, but he also negotiated a life away from Mattherson. He drove to California in a new Corvette and finished college there.”
“What happened to him?”
All signs of the crazy cat lady were gone, as were the moist eyes after she dabbed them. “Chuck believed in family honor. He kept his promise to his parents and stopped writing to me. It wasn’t long before I heard rumors of him dating other women. Years passed, and I kept hoping. Then, I read in the local newspaper they drafted him. With a college education, they considered him prime officer material.” She scoffed. “They shaved his head, handed him a rifle, and told him to lead boys right out of high school into combat. Second lieutenants had a high likelihood of dying on their first mission in Viet Nam. He made it until his second.”
“Is that when you dropped out?”
Babbs nodded. “I already had, but his death put me over the edge. I needed to make the hurt go away, but I didn’t know how. California called to me. I wanted to be near the places he spent time. I thought the drugs would help. Eventually, I had to come home.”
“You had a child on the way.”
“I was so strung out I didn’t know who the father was.”
Steve reached out with his right hand. Babbs took it and held on. They dispensed with words for at least two long minutes. Finally, Steve said, “It’s time you moved on with your life. You’re a whole woman and you will need to be strong to endure what’s going to happen.”
“You’re right. I’ve hidden behind the persona of a burned-out hippie long enough. The last time you were here, you wanted Heather to look at my mother’s high school yearbook. I’ll get it for you.”
While Babbs retreated to her bedroom, Steve leaned close. “Cross your fingers for luck. We may be on the verge of solving Leo’s cold case.”
Heather and Babbs sandwiched Steve between them on a couch. Steve held the 1940 yearbook and turned the pages. Heather and Babbs browsed the pages and made comments on things of interest. After thirty minutes, it became clear that graduating senior Rodney Wells and junior class beauty Elsa Dumont were one of those couples that looked right together.
“Oh, my,” said Heather. “How did this photo of those two get past the family sensors?”
Babbs tapped her finger on the page. “The yearbook staff put it in after the final review. That’s at the old pharmacy downtown. They had a soda fountain and served sandwiches.”
Steve kept his finger on one of the last pages. “What’s important about the photo?”
Babbs spoke before Heather could. “It’s an advertisement for the pharmacy. My mother and Rodney Wells are sharing a milkshake.”
Heather added. “One milkshake, two straws, both of them with lips on their straw, heads almost touching, looking into each other’s eyes. It’s a cheesy pose, but there’s nothing fake about the looks they’re giving each other.”
Steve moaned. “That explains it, but I still can’t prove it.”
“Prove what?” asked Babbs.
“That your grandfather killed Rodney Wells to get him out of the way. Your father had his heart set on your mother.”
“Of course he did. She was everything a man of that era looked for in a wife and the Matthersons always get what they want.”
An involuntary shiver came over Heather. Babbs didn’t show any outward emotion.
“Do you have proof?” asked Steve.
She shook her head. “Not really, but it’s believed that Grandfather paid someone to do the deed, and that the man he hired was on his way to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. He never returned home.”
Steve turned to Heather. “We need to call Leo and gather everyone at the Wells Mansion tomorrow evening.”
Heather petted as many cats as would allow her to while she waited on Steve and Babbs to finish their conversation. Babbs was ready to talk and apparently felt the need to discuss the musical transformation the Beatles went through with the Sergeant Pepper album.
They finally broke free of their hostess and began their trek across the backyard. After squeezing through the hedges, Steve took out his phone and instructed it to call Leo.
“It’s about time,” said his former partner. “Did you get enough to get me off the hook?”
“That, and more. We’re gathering everyone tomorrow evening.”
“At which mansion?”
“The Wells. It’s neutral territory.”
“Captain Price and I will be there.”
Heather looked beyond the swimming pool and across the backyard. A familiar black SUV sat in the driveway leading to the covered parking. “Uh-oh. We have an unwanted guest. Detective Long is coming this way. He’s smiling.”
“If they take me, call Leo.”
“What if they arrest both of us?”
“Call Jack when we get to jail.”