Dusted to Death (12 page)

Nope, she couldn’t do it. Though the restaurant was nice enough by most people’s standards, Charlotte simply couldn’t imagine Angel even eating there, and found it impossible to imagine her waiting tables.

Once Sally brought their lunch, Charlotte and Benny, by mutual silent agreement because of the nosy couple nearby, stopped talking and concentrated on eating.

“That was delicious,” Charlotte said as she folded her napkin and placed it on the table.

“Yeah, my steak wasn’t half bad.”

Both declined a dessert and coffee. After Benny paid the check and left a generous tip for Sally, they headed back toward the motel.

Outside, the sky had grown overcast, and as they walked slowly back to the motel, Benny said, “Looks like it might rain.”

“Maybe not,” Charlotte offered. “So, where to now?”

“I think a good place to start asking questions might be Angel’s mother.”

Charlotte nodded. “I agree.”

“There’s something you need to know, though,” he said. “Laura, Angel’s mother, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s about a year ago. Sometimes she’s almost normal, but other times, she’s—” He shrugged.

“I understand,” Charlotte told him. “That’s a terrible disease.”

“Yeah, Angel was all broken up about it when she first found out, and it was even worse when she had to put her mom in the nursing home.”

“If this happens to be one of her bad days, don’t forget that our waitress Sally could be helpful.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “After what she said about the entire town keeping Angel’s secret—”

“I think she could be persuaded, especially if she knew the circumstances.”

“Maybe, but why don’t we use her as a last resort? I still can’t believe that no one here knows what’s going on. It’s almost like stepping into a whole different world, one where no one knows what’s happening in the real world.”

Charlotte laughed. “I’ve got news for you. This
is
the real world.” Like her, Benny had always lived in a big city and had no idea how insular or protective a small town could be, especially toward one of its own. Though it was hard to believe in this modern age, not everyone had access to cable television, and those that tuned into the news on the local channels mostly watched the weather segment. “Small towns, you gotta love ’em.”

“Still hard to believe,” Benny said as they approached the motel. “The limo is over there.” He motioned toward the spot where he’d parked the car.

“I’m wondering,” Charlotte said. “Do you think we’ll have any problems getting in to see Angel’s mother? Some places have an approved visitors’ list. Unless you’re on that list, you don’t get in.”

Benny shook his head. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Besides, I don’t remember anyone checking when I was here before with Angel. We just walked right in. Also, being that it’s Sunday and most people visit on the weekends anyway, it should be easier today.”

By the time they drove to Oakdale Nursing and Care Center, the sky had grown even darker, and a breeze had kicked up.

“It sure is a lovely place,” Charlotte offered as Benny parked the limo.

The center was located just on the edge of town and surrounded by huge draping oak trees. The outside of the facility looked to be well maintained and had a beautiful garden off to one side overflowing with flowers in full bloom. Nestled between the beds of flowers were wooden benches where the patients could sit and enjoy the view.

Inside the facility, Charlotte noted that the floors were spotless as she walked alongside Benny. Another thing that she noticed was the lack of the heavy cleaner odor that she’d found in other facilities she had visited; instead, the air had a fresh, clean scent.

Since Benny had been there before and seemed to know his way around, Charlotte let him take the lead through the maze of hallways.

Another plus for the center, as far as she was concerned, were the nurses and the patients. All of the nurses that they passed in the hallway had welcoming smiles on their faces, and the patients they encountered looked neat and well groomed. Some even looked happy.

Of course, as Benny had pointed out earlier, today was one of the prime visiting days, so it stood to reason that the patients would be happy about that. As for the staff, it just made sense that they would want to present a good face for all of the visitors.

For Pete’s sake, stop being such a cynic. Maybe for once things are exactly as they seem. Maybe the staff and the patients are contented
.

Charlotte winced and felt duly chastised by her conscience. While she didn’t always agree with the little voice of reason in her head, this time she did. She
was
becoming a cynic, and she needed to stop it. “
Do right and you’ll feel right
,” she’d once heard her pastor say during his sermon. It was a lesson on positive thinking and action that she certainly needed to work on.

“Her room is that one.” Benny interrupted her thoughts, pointing to a door that was standing wide open. After a brief knock he stepped into the doorway. “Mrs. Pate, may we come in?”

Laura Pate didn’t answer right away, but Benny stepped just inside the room anyway, and Charlotte followed. Once again, Charlotte was impressed with the cleanliness and neatness of the place. No dust on any of the surfaces that she could see, and the floors appeared to be dust and dirt free as well. But it was the middle-aged woman resting in the bed who drew her attention.

Even if she hadn’t known that Laura Pate was Angel’s mother, she would have recognized her immediately. Except for the obvious age difference, her hairstyle, and the blank look in her eyes, Mrs. Pate was simply an older version of her daughter.

Laura Pate suddenly frowned. “Do I know you, young man?”

“I’m Benny, ma’am.” He stepped closer to the bed. “Benny Jackson—Marti’s chauffeur.”

Without acknowledging Benny, Angel’s mother turned her gaze to Charlotte and frowned. “You’re not Marti.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, ma’am, I’m not, but I’m a friend of your daughter. My name is Charlotte LaRue.”

Laura Pate turned her gaze back to Benny. “Where’s Marti?”

Benny smiled and gently patted Laura Pate’s hand. “Marti couldn’t come this time, so she asked me and Miss Charlotte to come instead. But she will come again next time.”

Charlotte thought for a moment that Laura was going to say more, but she closed her eyes instead. “She does that,” Benny explained to Charlotte. “But she usually opens them within a few moments.”

Sure enough, only a minute or so later, Laura opened her eyes again. “Who are you people? Why are you in my room?” She suddenly frowned. “Where am I? Do you know where I am?” she asked, turning her gaze to Charlotte.

“Yes, ma’am,” Charlotte answered softly. “You have some medical problems and you’re in the Oakdale Nursing and Care Center.”

Laura’s frown deepened. “Am I ill? I don’t remember being ill.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Where’s Marti? I want to go home.” Then, louder, “I want to go home.”

At that moment, a young nurse entered the room. Noting Laura’s distress, she hurried over to the bed. “Now, now, Mrs. Pate. You’re okay, sweetheart.” She smoothed Laura’s hair back, then blotted the tears from her cheeks with a tissue. “It’s Dawn, sweetie.”

“Dawn?” Laura asked, her face an effigy of confusion.

“Yes, ma’am, Dawn Sanders, your nurse. Remember? Marti hired me personally to take care of you while you’re here. Just relax now. That’s right, just close your eyes and relax.”

After a moment, Laura’s breathing evened out, and only then did Dawn turn to Benny and Charlotte. “I don’t recall seeing you here before. Are you family?”

Benny and Charlotte both shook their heads. “Friends of the family,” Benny explained. “Friends of her daughter, Angel—I mean Marti,” he added.

Dawn nodded that she understood. “She’s resting now, so you should probably leave.”

Benny glanced down at Laura, then back to the nurse. “Would it be okay if we come back later this evening?”

“Tomorrow would be better,” Dawn told him. “But even then there’s no guarantee that she’ll be any better, or even remember that you visited today.”

“We understand,” Charlotte said. “And thank you for taking such good care of her.”

The nurse shrugged. “It’s my job, and it’s a privilege. Mrs. Pate is a really nice lady.” The nurse managed a tremulous smile, but her eyes held a wealth of sadness. “Up until I got to the fifth grade, she was my Sunday school teacher. It was because of her influence on my life that I became a Christian and later became a nurse.”

Though it was still overcast outside, the rain had held off when they emerged from the nursing home. Benny was suspiciously stoic and silent during the short drive back to the motel, and Charlotte’s throat was too tight with emotion to speak. Even if she could say something, she feared that she might burst into tears at any moment. She’d been around seriously ill patients before and had felt deep sympathy for them, but for some reason that she couldn’t explain, Laura Pate’s predicament seemed somehow different, seemed much, much worse.

Complete loss of control, she decided. At times the poor woman didn’t even know where she was. Charlotte couldn’t begin to imagine what that would be like, how frightening that would be. One rare minute Laura could remember who she was and where she was, and the next, nothing, an entire lifetime wiped out. Even sadder, there was no hope that she would ever get better, only a lot worse.

Then another thought hit her and she swallowed hard and blinked back tears. If Angel was railroaded into a murder conviction, then who would there be to look after Laura? Benny hadn’t mentioned Angel having any siblings or other relatives.

Charlotte glanced at Benny. “What will happen to Laura if Angel is convicted of murder? Does Laura have other relatives?”

Benny’s lips tightened into a thin line and he shook his head no. For a moment Charlotte didn’t think he was going to say anything; then he cleared his throat and said, “After Angel’s father died, him being a preacher and all, there was no retirement money or savings to speak of. The only income they had was a hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy and a small monthly check from Social Security.

“One of the first things Angel did after she made her first big-hit movie was set aside enough funds to make sure that her mother was taken care of for the rest of her life. One of the deacons who served under her father in their church is also an attorney, and Angel gave him power of attorney if something should happen to her.”

Once Benny parked the limo, they headed, by silent, mutual consent, for their rooms. When they reached Charlotte’s room, she turned to face him. “So, what do you think? Should we try again tomorrow?”

Benny cleared his throat and sighed deeply. “I think we should try at least once more. If not for Angel’s sake, for her mother’s sake.”

Charlotte nodded. “I agree. Now, if you don’t mind I think I’ll rest a bit before supper. And speaking of supper, since we had such a big lunch, I’d be perfectly satisfied with just a hamburger or a salad.”

Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “What say we meet in the parking lot about six?”

“Great. See you then,” she told him over her shoulder as she unlocked the door to her room and went inside. After she made sure the door locked again, she kicked off her shoes, then stretched out on the bed. Just as she closed her eyes, she heard the ring tone of her cell phone.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” she groaned as she rolled into a sitting position and scooted off the bed. “Live and learn,” she muttered, hurrying to where she’d left her purse across the room. Next time she’d make sure she put the silly phone next to the bed instead.

She dug the phone out of her purse and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Hey, Charlotte.”

Louis. Just hearing his voice did funny things to her insides, and for a second she was too stunned to respond. Why on earth was Louis calling her?

T
here was only one way to find out. Clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, Charlotte said, “Hey, yourself. Is anything wrong?”

“Humph! I was about to ask you the same question. I’ve been calling your house off and on most of the afternoon. I know you usually go to church Sunday mornings, and I figured you probably ate lunch at your sister’s.”

“Why didn’t you just call my cell phone when you didn’t get an answer at home?”

She heard his deep sigh. “If I remember right, you normally don’t even turn it on, not on Sundays.”

He was right…as usual. Several months ago she’d made the mistake of forgetting to turn it off during the morning worship hour, and it had rung right in the middle of the pastor’s sermon. Now everyone in the whole church knew that her ring tone was the song “God Bless the U.S.A.” To top it off, the call she’d received was a wrong number. She’d later joked with the pastor’s wife that perhaps everyone in the church should switch to the same ring tone of the song “Amen.”

“So why this Sunday?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Well, ah, nothing—not exactly.”

“What does ’not exactly’ mean?”

It was Charlotte’s turn to sigh. Louis knew her too well. Even worse, she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t approve of what she was doing…if he knew. Maybe she could change the subject. “When are you coming home?”

“Now I know something’s going on,” he said, his voice heavy with suspicion.

Oops!

“You know that if you don’t tell me, I’ll just call Judith, and she’ll tell me.” His voice rose. “So stop trying to change the subject. Knowing you, you probably completely ignored my advice and got yourself involved in another stupid murder investigation. And let me guess,” he added sarcastically. “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that movie star’s boyfriend, would it?”

Stung more by his condescending tone of voice than what he’d actually said, Charlotte felt her temper flare. “Call Judith!” she retorted, her voice rising in anger. “Be my guest! Or call your watchdog, Samantha O’Reilly.”

“Samantha?”

“Oh, yeah, I know all about your little spy. Go ahead. Call her.”

“But Samantha isn’t—”

Charlotte cut him off. “Not that what I do or don’t do is any of your business. In fact, call anyone you please, but do
not
call me again.”

Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled the phone away from her ear, then snapped it closed, effectively ending the call. “Serves you right,” she said, glaring at the phone. Almost immediately, it rang again. This time, when she flipped it open, she pressed the button that would turn the phone off.

“So there, take that!” she muttered as she dropped the tiny phone back inside her purse. Still angry, she stomped over to the bed, threw herself down on it, and covered her eyes with her forearm.

Outside, thunder boomed, and the sound of rain beating against the windowpane reached her ears. “Perfect,” she grumbled. “Just perfect.” Nice that the weather outside fit her mood inside, she thought sarcastically.

As she lay there, listening to the thunder and rain, the thought that she had totally overreacted flitted through her mind, but she immediately squashed it. What she didn’t understand, though,
couldn’t
understand, was why Louis thought he had the right to run her life. Sure, they were friends, sorta, kinda, on again, off again. And while it was true that she was attracted to him in most of the ways that counted and she truly respected him, none of that gave him the right to keep track of her like she didn’t have the sense God gave a goose.

For more years than she cared to remember, she’d run her life just fine, thank you very much, without a man’s help, without help from anyone but the good Lord above. What on earth made Louis think that she wasn’t capable of doing so now? If anyone was capable, she was. For Pete’s sake, she owned her own business, a lucrative business that employed several other people. Not only that, but she was debt free; she outright owned her own home, and owned her van.

And what about Hank? Did Louis ever stop to think that she’d raised a son, all by herself, and had even helped put him through medical school?

You’re overreacting, don’t you think?

No!
she silently argued.

Yes, you are, and you know why.

Leave me alone. Go away.

The truth hurts, doesn’t it?

“Yeah, yeah,” she whispered. Truth was, if she were honest enough to admit it, she cared about Louis, cared about him more than she had cared about any man since her son’s father. Oh, there had been other men in her life. A woman couldn’t live for as many years as she had without making male contact somewhere along the way. But none of the others had ever measured up to her memories of her son’s father, Hank Senior, the ultimate love of her life…until Louis came along.

Charlotte sighed, and for some reason, Laura Pate came to mind. Maybe, once again, it was that control thing. Was it possible that she’d been in control of her own life, her own destiny, for so long that she wouldn’t be able to relinquish that control to anyone else? And why should she have to? Unlike poor Laura Pate, who didn’t have a choice in the matter, she did have a choice.

Charlotte sighed again. Was that the choice? And if it was, why did it have to be that way? Why couldn’t she have both? Why couldn’t she control her own life
and
enjoy life with Louis? While it was true that she didn’t want to spend what was left of her life all alone, she didn’t want to spend it kowtowing to a male chauvinist either.

“Humph! Better alone,” she murmured, “than with someone telling you what to do or what not to do all the time.”

But as she lay there thinking back over the past few years, she kept remembering how her life had been before she’d met Louis and how it had been since.

Charlotte turned over onto her side and rolled into the fetal position. Just because he’d been rude didn’t mean it was okay to be rude back. She probably owed him an apology. Maybe later, she decided. Later she’d call and apologize…well, not apologize exactly. Instead, maybe she should try and explain why she’d lost her temper.

Then another thought struck her. Why had Louis been trying to call her to begin with? He never did say. Of course in all fairness, she didn’t give him much of a chance to say why.

Charlotte turned over onto her other side. Some conversations were better face-to-face. Maybe she’d wait until she got back home to talk to him. Besides, at the moment, she had more pressing issues to take care of. She needed to concentrate on the reason she was in this little town to begin with: namely, who really killed Nick Franklin?

On Monday morning, the evening storm had passed, leaving the air muggy with heat and humidity. After Charlotte and Benny ate an early breakfast at a nearby Shoney’s Restaurant, they drove back to Oakdale Nursing and Care Center.

This time when they approached the doorway to Laura’s room she was sitting up in a chair watching television. From the sound of the program she was tuned to, Charlotte figured it had to be one of the many cable cooking shows. How sad was that? In all probabilities, Laura Pate would never cook another meal.

Benny leaned close to Charlotte. “I think you should do most of the talking. I figured that she’ll be more inclined to open up to another woman than a man.”

“I agree,” she said, but though what Benny said made sense, at the moment she didn’t have the foggiest idea how to even start a conversation.

“Ready?” Benny asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied.

When Benny rapped lightly on the door frame to Laura’s room, Laura glanced up from the television and smiled.

“What a nice surprise,” she said. “Come on in here.” She glanced curiously at Charlotte as she pointed the remote control toward the TV and muted the sound. Then she turned her attention back to Benny. “If I remember right, your name is Benny, isn’t it? You’re Marti’s chauffeur. Is Marti with you?”

Benny nodded and Charlotte followed him inside. “Yes, ma’am, I’m Benny.” Then he shook his head. “Sorry—Marti couldn’t make it this trip. But—” He motioned toward Charlotte. “I brought someone else along to visit you. Her name is Charlotte—Charlotte LaRue.”

“Are you one of my Marti’s friends too?”

Charlotte hesitated a moment, then simply smiled. She couldn’t really call herself Marti’s friend, but explaining their relationship was more complicated than Laura needed to hear at the moment.

Avoiding the question, Charlotte said, “You must be very proud of your daughter and all that she’s accomplished.”

Laura’s entire face lit up. “Oh, I am proud of her, but—” Abruptly, her expression grew tight with strain. “At the same time I worry about her. I’ve tried over and over to teach her that fame and fortune don’t guarantee happiness, but I guess that all I can do now is hope and pray that she paid attention to what I tried to teach her.”

Charlotte nodded. “That’s all that any parent can do.”

“Do you have children?”

“Yes, I do,” Charlotte answered, relieved that Laura seemed lucid and also relieved that she was the one who opened up a topic of conversation. How had she forgotten that one thing all mothers had in common with other mothers was their children? “I have a son and two grandchildren.”

“Oh, you have grandchildren! I’d love to have grandchildren. I keep hoping that Marti will decide to settle down one of these days and give me some, but so far, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” Laura blinked several times; then her eyes suddenly clouded over.

For long moments, it took every ounce of willpower that Charlotte possessed to hold her smile in place, when what she really wanted was to cry. In light of Laura’s medical condition and Marti’s present circumstances, there was more than a good chance that Marti would never marry and have children and that Laura would never get to hold a grandchild on her lap.

When Laura abruptly lowered her gaze to stare at the floor, Charlotte’s heart sank. As seconds dragged into minutes, Charlotte feared that they had lost her, feared that once again she had retreated into that foggy never-never land.

Then, without warning, Laura lifted her gaze to Charlotte and like a magician’s sleight of hand, the clouded look had disappeared. “Sorry.” Laura frowned. “Now, what was I saying?”

“We were talking about children,” Charlotte gently prodded.

“We were?”

Charlotte smiled and nodded.

Laura shrugged. “Humph, I don’t know why, but it seems like lately, I keep having these blackouts. Then, when I try to remember, all I remember is the past.”

Charlotte swallowed the huge lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Blackouts? Was it possible that Laura didn’t remember that she had Alzheimer’s? Come to think of it, not once yesterday or today, so far, had Laura even mentioned having Alzheimer’s. How could that be? Then again, maybe that was a good thing. Except for the confusion and panic at the beginning of the disease, maybe not remembering that she had the dreaded disease was a blessing in disguise.

“Ah, speaking of the past, I’d love to know about your daughter.”

At that, Laura smiled. “My Marti was a wonderful child, beautiful and smart as a whip. Never gave me a minute’s worry, at least not until her senior year of high school.”

“So what happened in her senior year?” Charlotte gently probed.

Laura frowned and slowly shook her head. “Not all parents are as blessed as I have been. At least I still have my Marti.”

Afraid that Laura was going off on a tangent, Charlotte prompted, “You were going to tell me about her senior year.”

“I was? Oh, yes, of course I was. Why, I remember it like it was only yesterday. It was when one of our most prominent families in town—the Scotts—lost both their daughter and their son.” She slowly shook her head. “Such a tragedy—a terrible tragedy—especially in a small place like Oakdale. Their daughter was accidentally run over. The whole thing was so upsetting for Marti and for the rest of her class as well.”

Charlotte’s interest suddenly peaked, and though it might not have anything to do with anything, she found it intriguing that Laura mentioned the “tragedy” in conjunction with having problems with Marti. “You said that the Scotts lost both their children, so what happened to their son?”

Laura frowned. “Whose son?”

“The Scott family,” she gently reminded her.

Laura slowly shook her head from side to side. “Terrible tragedy…terrible. Most people around here blamed the parents for leaving the kids unsupervised, but I try not to judge. After all, Alex was eighteen, a senior in high school, plenty old enough to take responsibility. But boys will be boys, or so I’m told. Guess the temptation was too great, what with his parents being out of town and all. Did your son ever do anything like that?”

“Like what?”

Again Laura’s eyes grew cloudy and she frowned. “I—I don’t know.”

“You were telling me about Alex, the Scotts’ son.”

“I was?” For a moment, she seemed lost in thought; then, “Oh, yeah, now I remember. It seems that he decided to throw his own senior party, without chaperons, or so they say. Of course I’m not supposed to listen to gossip—my husband would disapprove—but it was also in the newspaper and that’s not gossip. According to the newspaper, Alex got drunk and accidentally ran over his own sister, killing her. And if that wasn’t bad enough, a jury ended up convicting him of—of—” She frowned a moment, and then her expression brightened again. “That’s it. Now I remember. They convicted him of criminal vehicular homicide and sent him away to state prison.” Laura sighed. “Poor Betty Jean—that’s Alex and Jackie’s mother.”

Jackie? Jackie must be the name of the Scotts’ daughter, Charlotte decided.

“Some say she had a nervous breakdown,” Laura continued, “and has never been the same since. Can’t say as I blame her. Who knows how any of us would act under those circumstances? All I know is how hard Marti took it, just being in the same class and all. Why, for days I couldn’t get that girl to hardly eat. I can’t imagine what poor Betty Jean went through.”