Deep Fried Trouble (Eugeena Patterson Mysteries) (5 page)

I hated to say I should have seen the ambush coming, but I didn’t.  Between Pastor Jones’ sermon, my loss of a dear friend and a MIA daughter, I forgot to prepare myself.

Holding Mr. Amos’ hand, Kisha had skipped ahead of me. The sight warmed my heart. As I recalled, Amos had grandkids of his own, but they lived somewhere on the west coast. I’m not even sure if I’d seen any of his kids since his wife died.

Before I reached the vestibule to shake the pastor’s hand, the twins cornered me.

“It’s a sad thing.” Annie Mae shook her head.

This puzzled me, “What’s sad?”

“You know?”

I turned towards Willie Mae. She had a lopsided smile on her face. I wish I knew where this conversation was headed. Those two old biddies were dropping hints like we were in the twilight zone or something.

Other members pushed past us, some giving us ugly looks. It wasn’t my fault the twins decided to interrogate me in the middle of the church aisle.

Willie Mae leaned down and cupped her mouth, whispering. “Mary. It’s a shame about her death.”

“Yeah, we heard you found her.” Annie Mae’s breath floated across my nostrils, a mixture of coffee and tobacco. I didn’t dare inhale again until she moved out my line of breathing. Annie Mae posed as the saint of all saints, but she couldn’t lay down her stronghold with chewing tobacco.

I took two steps backward since Annie Mae insisted on breathing toxic fumes over me. “Yes. Look I’m still ... well, I can’t talk right now.”

Willie Mae pulled her arm down in front of me like a stop sign on a bus. Why wouldn’t these two leave me be and let me pass?

“Honey, you okay? Maybe you should sit down. This must be a shock to you seeing how you two used to be such good friends.”

I didn’t want to and wouldn’t sit down. “I’m fine. Yes, I’m going to miss her.”

“You two never did make up. Oh, but I guess that would’ve been hard considering Mary had a breakdown and everything.” Willie Mae smiled, but her words sliced through the air like a Ninja going in for the kill.

That was her mistake. Mary and I weren’t close for the past five years, but she was a godly person.  A bigger woman than I ever could be. I wouldn’t stand for her name to be smeared even before her body was laid in her final resting place.

“Now you two listen here. If I’m not mistaken both of y’all have been through some tough times.” I pointed at each sister, looking them both in the eyes. Annie Mae, her one good eye.

“Mary lost her family and she had a right to grieve. She wasn’t crazy and I won’t hear anything like that come from either of you again.”

Sucking in her breath, Willie Mae touched her chest. “Oh now Eugeena, Annie Mae and I loved Mary as much as you. We know she had it hard. Calm down.”

“Yeah, we were really concerned about you finding her body. The cops must have really wanted to talk to you.”

Oh my Lord!

If I wasn’t still standing in the church sanctuary, I would’ve ... well. I was scared of my thoughts. God said pour good on your enemies head. I needed to walk away now before applying that principle slipped my mind. “Have a blessed afternoon, ladies.”

Before I took two steps, Willie Mae’s voice rang out. “You know the cops been asking questions. We’re church folks and we can’t cover up the truth.”

Annie Mae agreed, “No sister, that wouldn’t be right in the eyes of God.”

I didn’t bother to turn around. I couldn’t. I would’ve seen the same self-righteous smirk on those two women I had seen so many times before. Plus, I was holding my new grandbaby. No time for foolishness. I had enough of that to deal with when I returned home.

Besides I had nothing to hide from the police. So I got angry with an old friend, fussed her out in the church parking lot and then ignored her existence for months. Months turned to years of indifference. I had plenty of opportunities to reconcile our friendship. It became easier to leave the past alone as time went by.

Finally, I reached the pastor. Pastor George Jones was probably my favorite pastor ever. His father, Rev. Tennessee Jones, the one who co-founded this church and who remained the pastor most of the thirty-some years I attended had gone on to glory late last year. His son was about the age of my oldest son and appeared to be holding his own. This couldn’t be an easy assignment for a man in his late-thirties. Most of the congregation knew him when he’d sported nothing but a diaper.

“Sister Patterson, how are you and who’s this cute little fellow?” Pastor Jones touched Tyric’s little hand. Now awake, Tyric peered up at the preacher, looking puzzled by the new face.

“My… my grandchild.”  I croaked. I wanted to tell the pastor I could give ole’ Job some competition about having the worst day of your life, but that wasn’t entirely true. Just felt that way. My soul was troubled and even now more so thanks to Willie Mae and Annie Mae. Instead I said, “Pastor Jones, your sermon this morning was something else.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Sister. I am terribly sorry to hear about Sister Fleming’s passing. That’s an awful way to leave this world. I know God has her in his arms.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. Mary was a dear soul.”

“Well, I spoke to Mary’s eldest sister this morning before service. It looks like the funeral will be on Thursday. She did have a request. Sister Patterson, would you be willing to say a few words on behalf of the church?”

Me?

I remembered Mary’s sister, Natalie. Hadn’t seen her in years. From what I remember, both sisters weren’t that close. Surely, she would know I was not the person who needed to be speaking at her sister’s funeral.

I stared at Pastor Jones. He was pastoring at another church during the time Mary and I had our falling out. Maybe he doesn’t know about the blow up between us. There were few members who didn’t know.  I could imagine the smirks on the twins’ faces from the front row on Thursday. Could I even stand beside Mary’s casket and call myself having words to say? The entire scenario seemed a tiny bit awkward.

“Pastor, I don’t know if I’m the right person to speak at her funeral.” 

“I know it will be a hard time for you. But please consider. I think you would be the perfect person.”

“Thank you, Pastor. I appreciate you asking me.”

After I stepped outside, it took me a few moments to get adjusted to the early afternoon sun.  I used my free hand to wipe some moisture from my eyes. I couldn’t blame it on my bifocals. Through my rapid blinking, I saw the parking lot was pretty empty except for a few cars. I appreciated not having anyone see how torn up I really felt.

Amos smiled when he saw me, but his face changed to concern. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for looking out for Kisha.”

“My pleasure.”

I buckled Tyric in the car seat and then made sure little Kisha was fastened into her booster seat. I’m happy they have all these safety measures these days. I shudder to think of all the ways my own children traveled in the car.

I still couldn’t believe the audacity of my daughter. Couldn’t she have asked me instead of assuming I would keep her kids while she was Lord knows where?

Amos drove up beside me in his truck. We came in separate vehicles, but he’d followed me over to the church. “You sure you are doing okay, Eugeena?”

He really was a sweet man. “I’m fine, Amos. I hope you enjoyed service this morning.”

“Sure did. I will follow y’all to make sure you get home safe.”

Amos seemed determined to act as my guardian angel. I can’t say I was complaining. After all, I was the one whining to God about being lonely. Have to be careful what you pray for sometimes.

In about ten minutes, I pulled into the driveway of my house. There were still no signs of Leesa’s Altima anywhere. It was the car her dad gave her, probably the last gift she’d received from her dad before he passed. I gave her credit for at least keeping up with the car. It was paid in full and there wasn’t a need for her not to maintain it.

As I unbuckled Tyric, I heard raised voices in the distance. Sounded like a man and a woman. Not wanting to be nosy, I peered through the back window of the car. Across the street, Tamara was waving her hands in a man’s face. Come to think about it, Tamara never did return to her seat after the offering. She must have left the church and went home.

I could only see the man from the backside, but I assumed he must be her husband.

With Kisha dawdling behind me and Tyric in my arms, I glanced back over at the couple. The man proceeded to get in the red sports car, and backed out the driveway. He took off down the street, burning rubber in the process. Poor Tamara stood with her arms folded. If I didn’t have the children with me, I would’ve walked over to her. Married life was hard. I should know. As much misery as it brought me I missed Ralph.

Tyric started wailing. Must have meant it was time to eat. I decided to try to reach out to Tamara later.

We had only been in the house all of fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang. 

Now who could that be?

Maybe Tamara came over to vent.

Still holding Tyric, who seemed to have become a member of my body, I peeked through the door’s peephole. My visitor’s eyes were hidden behind dark shades, but I could tell from her stance it was a very official visit.

When I opened the door, I almost expected Detective Wilkes to pull out handcuffs and start spouting my Miranda rights. But of course that would be silly. I didn’t do anything. Still, her showing up at my house a second time in two days couldn’t be good.

I’m sure by now she’d talked to a lot of people and heard all kinds of stories. Especially if Willie Mae or Annie Mae had a chance to bend the dete
ctive’s ear for a minute or two. Those drama-starting queens.

“Mrs. Patterson, I’m sorry to catch you after church. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure, why don’t you come in? I do need to get these children something to eat if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Take your time.” Detective Wilkes grinned at Kisha and reached her hand out to touch her head. “Hey cutie.”
             

Kisha shrank back from the detective. Her caramel skin proceeded to radiate a reddish glow followed by an ear-piercing scream. Little Tyric decided to join in with his own squall.

“Good heavens, Kisha. Is that called for?”

Two hysterical kids were going to work my nerves in the worst way possible. I could see the headline now, “Grandmother Loses it in Front of Cop.”  I wanted Leesa to pick up her children, not Child Protective Services.

After thirty minutes, I had the two howlers fed and settled down for naps. Maybe I would be allowed an afternoon siesta. Pulling the covers over my head for awhile would be what Eugeena ordered for herself.

My prescription for rest would come later. I joined the detective in the living room where she had made herself at home. “Sorry, about all the commotion, Detective Wilkes.”

“Not a problem. You have a nice home, Mrs. Patterson.”

“Thank you.” I had a feeling I might have a lot of explaining to do. “You said you had some questions for me.”

The detective flipped some pages in her notepad. “Tell me a little about your relationship with Mary Fleming. How long were you friends?”

“Why is that important?”

“Sounds like you might have known her the best. Would you say she had any enemies?”

Enemies
. God has some sense of humor. Mary and I had been the best of friends. We lived down the street from each other, our children played together, our husbands went fishing and we even taught at the same junior high school for years. She taught English and me, social studies. We probably spent more time in each other’s classrooms sharing our woes than with other teachers in our own departments.

Then it all changed.

Would I classify myself as Mary’s enemy?

I remember it like yesterday. Mary came over just as nice as she could. An aroma wafted from the cloth-covered object in her hands. I let my nose inhale one of my favorite scents. I was known as the cake and cookie baker, while Mary was the one known for her pies.

Now that day the apple pie would’ve been a nice offer, because it sure smelled heavenly, but the next words out of Mary’s mouth, made me want to smash that golden crust creation in her face. Never did get a slice of that pie.

I gulped and looked at Detective Wilkes’ face. “No, I couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Mary. She stuck close to herself in later years, but mainly out of grief.”

“I understand she had some tragedy.”

“Yes, about five years ago, she lost her husband and her only daughter in a car accident. She’s been withdrawn since then.”

“I understand there was some animosity between you two.”

Here we go
. “Yes, our friendship suffered a setback over an incident. At the time I was too pig-headed to see that Mary was telling the truth. By then it was too late.”

“Want to share the details?”
                           

Do I have a choice?

“Our girls were good friends back then. My daughter Leesa went over to the Flemings’ for a slumber party. Sometime during the night, Mary’s daughter, Jennifer, Leesa and some other girls got into Mary’s jewelry.”

A memory of Mary’s face. The hurt. My emotions at the moment. It all came back.

“Mrs. Patterson?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. One of the pieces of jewelry went missing. It was an heirloom passed down in Mary’s family from I don’t know ... late 1800s. It was valuable and very precious to Mary.”

“Did she say why she kept it in the jewelry box?”

“I have no idea. I’ve always asked myself that question. She might have mentioned she wore it for special occasions. Anyhow, she told me her daughter thought Leesa took the ring. I asked Leesa about it, she said she did wear it for awhile, but she took it off and placed it back in the jewelry box.”

“It really seems so silly now, but it just got out of hand. Mary was talking to people and I vented to people that Mary was slandering my daughter’s name calling her a thief and...”

“Mrs. Patterson, I looked up some information. Do you know where I can find your daughter?”

The air conditioner vent was on the other side of the room, but a chill ran down my arm. “Why? I mean I thought you were here to ask me about Mary?”

Detective Wilkes cleared her throat. “Your daughter, when she was younger, she did have a problem with taking things. Right?”

Not again. No, no, no, I knew my silence answered the detective’s question. But what could I say. Not too long after the incident at the Fleming’s, Leesa did get caught shoplifting among other things.

All that time I defended her, she made me eat every last righteous word I’d foamed at the mouth about my child.

“Mrs. Patterson, if you can tell me how to get in touch with Leesa, I really need to talk to her.”

I narrowed my eyes. Leesa was still my child, my baby. I don’t know what she’d gotten into, but this detective wouldn’t be talking to her at least not without a lawyer. I hoped it didn’t come down to that. But I had to expect the worst.

Leesa’s surprises were not for the faint of heart.

“Detective, I can’t tell you where my daughter is right now, but I would like to know why you came over here asking for her?”

The woman stood. “It would be best for her if she came in. Right now, she’s a person of interest to me.”

I jumped up. “For what? Are you trying to say you suspect my daughter of something?”

Lord knows what it could be. I knew I might have the evidence upstairs in my closet.

“Mrs. Patterson, calm down. We have a witness who saw a woman, a young woman leaving Mary’s house late last Friday night.  I understand your daughter drives a late model Nissan Altima, aqua blue?”

“Yes, but it couldn’t have been Leesa. She just came here last night...” I shut my mouth realizing my error a tad bit too late.

The detective’s jaw hardened. She looked toward my staircase and then back at me. I almost thought she was going to take off and head upstairs. The detective wouldn’t find Leesa. I watched enough television cop shows to know she needed a search warrant to step her foot anywhere else in my house and I wasn’t about to give her permission. I certainly didn’t need her to find the money in the diaper bag.

“Mrs. Patterson, your daughter could’ve been the last person who saw Mary alive. I will be looking to see her at the station soon. You enjoy the rest of your Sunday afternoon.”

I closed the door behind the detective. What had Leesa done this time and why would she visit Mary? If she did go over to Mary’s, did she see something?

Out of all the scenarios I had conjured up in my mind, I could not and would not fathom my daughter being a murder suspect. If anything, she was probably one scared young woman and I had to find her.