A Tough Nut to Kill (Nut House Mystery Series) (11 page)

I picked up Miss Amelia after church service the next
morning. It was close to eleven thirty. The good folks were a little late coming out of the church. I waited in the parking lot for almost half an hour, then honked when I saw her on the church steps, visiting with friends and the minister, taking her own sweet time.

I had to endure her scowl when she climbed up into the truck, saying I’d embarrassed her. “Honking like that.”

Miss Amelia was no more a fashion maven than the rest of us. Still, she looked neat and comfortable in white pants that weren’t ancient elastic-waist jeans. She had on a pretty pink-flowered loose top over the white pants. Instead of her worn sneakers, she wore comfortable looking slip-ons. Topping off the outfit was a gold filigreed clip in her gray hair.

Our agreement had been that I’d drop her off at the small chapel on my way into town to see Justin. Of course, I now got guff handed to me about the state of my mortal soul, but when she saw she wasn’t getting far with it, she dropped the complaint and asked about Justin.

“Says hello,” I told her.

“How’s he holding up?”

“How’d anybody be holding up sitting in jail?”

She ignored my remark.

“Some of the ladies were asking for you.” Oh, and I thought we’d moved past that topic.

“All so sad about Amos, and now Justin.” She clucked. “If you weren’t so stubborn, we could’ve gone to see Justin together. Hope you told him I’d be there later. Think I’ll bake him one of my ‘special’ pies. Deserves it, where he is.”

“See Ethelred? You tell her we’re coming over to talk to her?”

She shook her head. “Probably stayed home to clean her house and bake one of those awful pies of hers. She thinks she’s rubbing my nose in how she’s still baking while I’m too old and feeble to put a pie together anymore. That’s what she’d like to believe.”

“Come on, Meemaw. You two have been friends forever.”

She made a noise. “Sometimes it takes all the fortitude I can muster to be a friend to Ethelred.”

She looked out her window and commented on how dry everything was getting.

I didn’t answer because there was no answer when you waited day to day for the rain to come and nothing was happening.

“People at church do any praying for rain?” I asked. “Sure could use it.”

“Of course we did. Prayed for rain. And the state of your soul.” She looked over and gave me a merry—
I got the last word—
smile.

“And they had a lot to say about there being no pies at the Nut House. Mostly, they were telling me how bad they feel for all of us. Nice folks. Sorry for our trouble, everybody. Leaning in close to say how the sheriff had the wrong man. True to Rivervillians, they had a few disparaging words for Sheriff Higsby, and then a couple of tongue clucks and saying it was all because of Dora’s death. These folks just don’t know how to stay on one side or the other of a discussion.”

Ethelred Tomroy’s house sat in the middle of a few acres of old trees and a few more acres of tall grass. Over the small brown wooden house, a pair of ancient live oaks bent so far as to almost touch the dark roof. Her Buick stood in the beaten earth circular driveway.

I pulled in the dusty drive and parked behind her. We climbed Ethelred’s three concrete steps and Miss Amelia rang the bell. I could hear it far off, making a deep, grandfather clock sound.

When Ethelred answered, there was a worried look on her long face. With almost no greeting to either of us, she pushed the screen door open and let us in.

“Heard you didn’t go to church this morning, Lindy. Never a better time to be going to services. What with Amos dead and your family lookin’ like there’s more trouble ahead.”

“Heard you weren’t there either, Miss Ethelred.” I couldn’t help myself. When you lived all your life in a town like Riverville, everybody thought they had a right to comment on what you did and who your friends were and how your moral character was developing. I thought my moral character was doing just fine, and anyway—I figured the Blanchards had other things to think about that morning.

Amelia brushed our bickering aside. “Treenie said you wanted to talk to me, Ethelred. If you’re getting orders for pies, I’d better explain . . .”

The woman’s dark eyes lighted. “What do you mean, ‘orders for pies’? Nobody’s been calling me. Heard you stopped making yours, though.”

“Well, you see, due to the circumstances . . . with Amos’s death and all . . .”

“And a grandson in jail.”

“With Amos’s death and all . . .” Miss Amelia repeated, ignoring the gloating woman. “I won’t be making my pies for a few days.”

Ethelred thought a minute. “Aren’t you afraid they won’t come back to yours if they start ordering mine?”

I wanted to step in but Miss Amelia only smiled a self-satisfied smile. “Well, I think my county fair ribbons tell who’s got the best pie, Ethelred. Whether you want to hear it or not. And no, I’m not worried. You pick up a customer or two, well, that’s fine. Plenty of room in this world for all of us, don’t you think?”

Ethelred decided to say nothing more. She pointed off toward a living room filled with dusty antique furniture. “Come on in and take a chair. I’ll get you something to drink in a minute. I just gotta come out with what I called you about first.”

I waved off the chair and stood, hoping we wouldn’t be there long.

Miss Amelia planted her feet where she was. “That’s what we came about.”

“Suit yourselves,” Ethelred said, looking relieved at not having to provide greater hospitality than a place to stand. “I got to get something off my chest.”

She straightened her back and clasped her hands together in front of her. “Just wanted you to know, if one of you Blanchards did it, well—you know, finished off Amos like that . . . well, don’t think the whole town won’t be behind you. We all know . . .”

Here she stopped talking and started nodding.

“So you mean you won’t be cheering when they shoot one of us with a lethal injection there at Huntsville?” I said, then turned away, disgusted with the woman who thought she was showing her support.

“Now, young lady, don’t you go twisting my words. You know darned well what I’m talking about. But there’s something else I’ve got on my mind. I didn’t want to go to the sheriff before talking to you both. I don’t know if you remember a couple years back, Amelia.”

“I’ve got a good memory, Ethelred. Despite what some people say. What are you referring to?”

“Been thinking. I’m only trying to help your boy out here, you understand. Sure looks bad for him, the way he blamed Amos for Jake’s accident and all. I mean, and everybody’s saying the sheriff found something right there at the scene that shows Justin did it . . . still . . .” She hesitated, then glanced at Miss Amelia’s darkening face. “Now, don’t get mad. Just listen to me. Might just be a way to get your boy outta jail. Remember, back before Amos left town, when he had something going with Jessie Sanchez, Martin’s daughter? What I heard was that they were near announcing their engagement when Amos dumped her. You know Jessie’s getting on. ’Bout your age, wouldn’t you say, Lindy? Probably worrying about being an old maid, too. Anyway, from what people said, Jessie was all broken up. Over at the library, I heard she was crying so hard one day she had to go home. So”—she cleared her throat—“what I’m thinking is her father, Martin, had plenty of reason not to want Amos back in this town. Amos was a lot older than Jessie, but still a man like Martin’s likely to get fighting mad over somebody breaking his daughter’s heart. Wouldn’t you say that gives him as much reason to do Amos in as Justin?”

She seemed very pleased with herself as she settled back on the heels of her oxfords.

Miss Amelia and I exchanged glances before saying anything. Finally I couldn’t contain myself. “So what you’re saying, Miss Ethelred, is that you think we should hand Martin Sanchez to the sheriff to take suspicion off Justin. That right?”

The woman smiled and nodded. “Thought you’d be pleased. Me coming up with a different suspect. You never know with the law, which way it’s gonna go, so you want to kind of muddy the waters. That’s what I learned from that
CSI
program on the TV.”

“You’re thinking we should throw Martin, a man who’s been loyal to our family all these years, and his daughter, and maybe even his wife, to the dogs to protect Justin? That what you would do?” Miss Amelia asked.

Ethelred nodded hard. “Sure would. I’d do anything to get my own grandson outta jail.”

“You’d be hurting an innocent family, Ethelred.”

Ethelred thought awhile. “Who says they’re innocent? Like I said, just muddy the waters a little. If you want, I’ll go right over and talk to Sheriff Higsby for you. Start the ball rolling. Least it’ll give the sheriff something to think about.”

I reached for the doorknob behind me, not able to get out of the woman’s house fast enough.

“I wouldn’t say a thing to anybody, Ethelred.” Miss Amelia pushed at my back to get me moving faster. “Martin Sanchez was out mowing, surrounded by other workers, that day. Got a big fat alibi.”

“Then how about Jessie herself?” Ethelred added, hurrying to have her say before we escaped. “Seems you could make a case for her doing that to Amos. I mean, after all, nothin’ like a woman scorned, as they say.”

Miss Amelia pushed at me again, then followed me out of the house, stopping at the bottom of the steps to take a deep breath. “You go to the sheriff with your nonsense, Ethelred, and you’re going to look like the biggest fool on earth. If I were you, I’d say nothing to nobody.”

“Well, somebody’s got to look into this and I’m probably the most knowledgeable . . .” Ethelred Tomroy stood with her arms crossed.

“Gossip and knowledge are two different things.” Miss Amelia narrowed her eyes at her old friend. “We’ve known each other a long, long time. I appreciate that you want to help my grandson. That’s a commendable thing. But not by sacrificing the Sanchez family.”

Ethelred frowned and crossed her hands hard against the pink smock she wore over green polyester pants. “Why, shame on you, Amelia Hastings. If it was me, I’d snatch at anything that would get my grandson out of jail. What kind of grandmother are you anyway?”

“The kind that teaches her children right from wrong, Ethelred. I’m truly grateful for your concern, but we know Justin had nothing to do with his uncle’s death. Me and Lindy intend to find the person who did. The real person.” Miss Amelia nodded her head hard a couple of times.

“What in heaven’s name do you mean, ‘Me and Lindy’? Why, that’s nothing but playin’ police games. I never heard of anything so ridiculous. And at your age, Amelia. Shame on you . . .”

“About that . . .” I stepped in closer and looked up at Ethelred. “Yesterday, at the Nut House, you were saying something about Miss Amelia. Something about people here in town saying she was too old to be working so hard . . .”

Miss Tomroy frowned at me as if she’d forgotten I was there. She waved a hand toward me. “Just what you’d expect people would be sayin’, you Blanchards making her work over there at the Nut House. All that baking and stuff while you girls, who should be helping her, go flying off playing with that genetics stuff and planning weddings.” She leaned back to stare. I stared back just as hard. “Seems, if you love your grandmother, you’d want to be there in the store helping her . . .”

As I sputtered, Miss Amelia stepped in. “What Lindy was asking, Ethelred, was who, besides Freda Cromwell, would be talking about me like that? We were wondering who in town is so worried about my health. Awfully kind of that person, still I’d hate it if people really were thinking such a thing. Why, too old . . .” She shook her head. “We’re the same age and I don’t hear people saying such a thing about you.”

“Better not either. But then I’m solid Riverville stock. Not like you, Amelia. I mean a transplant from Dallas, after all. I’m rugged as one of our famous pecan trees, you could say. That’s me.”

“Heard about Freda gossiping about me.” Miss Amelia ignored her. “But we all know about the noise an empty bucket can make. I was just wondering where she got it from. Somebody had to’ve set her off.”

Ethelred narrowed her eyes. “She didn’t say. I figured it was just general talk. Maybe folks only trying to make you open your eyes and stop letting yourself be taken advantage of.”