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Authors: Patricia Sprinkle

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BOOK: Sins of the Fathers
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Lamar tucked the cookies under one arm and pushed back from the table. “I guess I better get on the road if I hope to beat the traffic up the mountain. I hope you’ll find the book useful. And I sure do thank you for the cookies.”

As Katharine watched his truck roar down the drive, she marveled. Now that she had entertained him in her home, Lamar no longer seemed odd. He was impressive, even rather endearing. And he certainly knew his Civil War—or, rather, War of Secession—history.

Chapter 27

While Dr. Flo went back home to pack and close up her condo, Katharine called Posey.

“Can you go to Jekyll tomorrow? I know it’s short notice, but we got word that they are digging up Dr. Flo’s relatives in the afternoon and she thinks she ought to be there.”

“Is Tom going, too?”

“No, Tom didn’t come home.” Katharine explained his reasons, including the fact that he’d be accompanying the luscious Angela to the Saturday evening party.

“If you kill my little brother one day, I’ll go on the stand and testify you had more than sufficient provocation,” Posey vowed. “And I would be delighted to go to the beach with you tomorrow, except I promised Hollis we’d go to a spa. Wrens is in California.”

What made Katharine suspect the spa had not been Hollis’s idea? “Invite Hollis to come with us. She’d add a bit of life to the party.”

“I doubt she’ll want to go with three women, but I’ll ask. Hold on.” Katharine heard voices in the background, then Posey was back on the line, baffled. “She says she’d love to come. How long will we be gone?”

“We ought to stay at least until Tuesday, since the coffins can’t be re-buried until Monday afternoon.”

“What are we going to do with them until then?” She sounded alarmed.

Katharine wondered if Posey feared she was being asked to provide houseroom for three coffins as well as two guests. “That’s not our problem. The attorney and the funeral home will take care of that.”
We hope
, she added mentally. “But speaking of problems, Hollis and I will need to talk business part of the time. I’ve agreed to host a big party for somebody here in six weeks. Do you think she’ll have any trouble with that?”

Posey’s voice dropped, presumably so Hollis wouldn’t hear. “Honey, you know as well as I do: Hollis
is
trouble. I swear, if I hadn’t been awake and in a birthing center when she was born—”

“—you would think they had switched babies on you. I know. You’ve said it before. Is there anything bothering her right now I need to know about?”

“Nothing aside from the state of the world, the government, and the church, and the fact that her parents are stodgy old oppressors of the poor who vote wrong and don’t have a speck of taste. She’s after me to redecorate the living room in brighter colors ‘Like Aunt Kat’s’ when she knows good and well I love it the way it is. Why we ever let her go to that artsy school—”

“It’s a great school,” Katharine said firmly, “and she has fantastic ideas. I thoroughly enjoy her company.”

Posey sighed. “You aren’t her mother. You don’t have to worry that she will either marry a nut or be on your hands for the rest of your life.”

“She’ll take care of you in your old age.”

“She’ll dress me in purple and orange, tie balloons to my wheelchair, and dye my hair green.”

“Think what fun you’ll have.”

“Speaking of fun,” Posey grew serious and her voice resumed its normal pitch, “we aren’t going to have to look at those bodies, are we? I mean, Dr. Flo will take it for granted that the people in the coffins are who they are supposed to be, right? She won’t insist on opening them, or anything.”

Katharine hadn’t considered that, but now the picture was fixed in her head. “I sure hope not. I mean, of course not. We won’t have to look at any bodies. But you will need to be ready to leave by seven in the morning, all right?”

“Isn’t that awfully early?”

It was half an hour earlier than Katharine planned to arrive at Posey’s back door, but given her sister-in-law’s concept of punctuality, it was the latest possible time for Posey to aim for. “We need to get there early to be sure we don’t miss the big event.”

“I’ll be ready. Do you think this is an occasion that calls for champagne? I’d love to bring some, if Dr. Flo won’t be grieving or anything. Do you think she might want to celebrate having successfully moved them?”

Katharine was chagrined that she hadn’t thought about honoring the occasion. “Champagne would be a lovely touch.”

“And I’ll run out and get some pâté with wonderful crackers and Havarti…”

Once Posey started thinking of delicacies, she was capable of prattling on all afternoon. “Bring whatever you like, but try to keep it to one or two suitcases. Dr. Flo tends to bring a lot of luggage, too. I’ll get stuff for sandwiches and breakfasts.”

“Before you go, I have one more question.” Posey veered abruptly from cheeses and wines. “These are wooden coffins, right?”

“Probably.”

“So are they going to fall apart when they are dug up? I mean, what’s going to prevent us from having bones all over the place?”

“Oh, Mother!” Hollis moaned behind her.

Katharine shuddered. “You have a macabre mind, do you know that? You’re going to make me nervous if you don’t stop.”

“Well, think about it. I’ve never been to a disinterment before, and I’ve been thinking about it for two whole days. This isn’t like digging up the vaults we buried Mama and Daddy in, you know. Those were steel or something and came with lifetime guarantees, although I kept asking, ‘Whose lifetime?’ and nobody could answer. But if we dug them up, they’d still be sealed metal boxes. These things have had over a hundred years to rot, right?”

“Don’t think about it. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I bought something to wear, by the way. I got a black chino pantsuit with a little white trim on the jacket. Do you think that will be all right?”

“You’ll be utterly chic,” Hollis said sarcastically in the background.

“Go pack,” Katharine commanded.

“Okay. And let’s stay until Thursday, to give us time to relax afterwards, okay?”

“Sounds great to me. See you all tomorrow.”

As she was about to hang up, the big cat decided he’d had enough of the utility room. He peered out the door, and when he saw Katharine standing in the kitchen, dashed past her like an orange and black streak toward the front of the house.

To her mental grocery list for Jekyll, she added automatic cat food and water dispensers, then remembered they’d be gone nearly a week. She couldn’t leave those cats alone for a week. They’d already been traumatized enough.

And what about the upholsterer, painter, and glazier she’d bludgeoned into coming next week? Why had she thought she could just waltz out of town?

She called Hollis back. “Do you have a friend who might be willing to stay at our place this week, oversee some workmen, and be extra nice to two cats?”

“How about Misty?” Hollis replied at once. “Remember her? She helped you clean up after your break-in.”

Short, petite, spiky hair, and a lisp from her tongue stud. Her only detriment was that she had referred to Katharine’s old prom gowns up in the attic as “vintage clothing.”

“I remember. She was a good worker. Is she available?”

“Yeah. She broke up with her boyfriend yesterday and slept over at my place last night. Staying at your place would give her some space to figure out what to do next. And she loves animals and her major was interior design. She’s fabulous at getting folks to work.”

“Bring her over, then, and let me show her the drill.”

That night Katharine did not dream of vandals in her house. She dreamed she was standing in a field of bones, peering into a crumbling wooden coffin at a mummified pirate with a long black beard. Behind her, Misty was saying, “Ith that a thcool bell, Mith Murray?”

Now that she mentioned it, Katharine did hear a bell in the distance.

She came awake groggily. The bell was still ringing, and somebody was holding her foot.

She was terrified to open her eyes until she felt the weight on her foot give a stretch and utter a small
meow?
That’s when she realized it wasn’t a school bell she was hearing, it was the phone.

She rolled over, trying not to move her foot, and reached for the receiver, hoping whoever it was hadn’t wakened Dr. Flo. If it was Hasty, she’d kill him. If it was Miranda, she didn’t know what she’d do, but it would be terrible.

But what if something had happened to Tom? Or one of the children? She could scarcely get her tongue around the word
hello
.

“Stay away from Bayard Island. What happened to Agnes can happen to you.”

“Miranda? This isn’t funny.” She yawned. Before she had finished, she heard a click.

Caught between annoyance and relief at being wakened from her bad dream, she snuggled back into her covers. The small cat shifted and began to purr.

Katharine was sliding back into sleep when something occurred to her. That voice had been too deep to be Miranda’s.

Chapter 28

She decided not to tell Dr. Flo about the call. No point in ruining her day.

They ate a quick breakfast of cereal and fruit and were ready to go not long after seven.

“Did you sleep well?” Katharine thought to ask as they pulled down her drive. “Those mattresses are new and I haven’t tested them.”

“Tested them?”

“I always like to sleep on guest mattresses to make sure they are comfortable, but we just got that room pulled together night before last.”

“The bed is wonderful. Your whole house is wonderful. Inviting and welcoming. You know, you were talking about how you hate fixing up the place for one. Why don’t you consider that you are creating a sanctuary for people who need one from time to time? You are good at providing that.”

“Me? I’m not a sanctuary person, whatever that is. The word conjures up images of unheated churches with stone walls and flickering candles.”

Dr. Flo laughed. “To me it means a good bed and a place to unburden the heart. If I were to make a home again, that’s the kind I’d like it to be. Maurice and I built a showplace. The only homey room in it was the den upstairs where we never invited guests. I wish now I’d taken them all up there and rented out the rest.”

It was Katharine’s turn to laugh. “Anytime you need a bed, come on over. I’ve certainly got plenty to spare.”

“Think about it.” Dr. Flo settled deeper into her seat and spoke seriously. “That’s all I ask. Think about it. You’re starting a whole new season. Make it your best one yet.”

Posey surprised Katharine by being ready before they got there and by only bringing one large suitcase, one food hamper, and a thermos of coffee—along with three mugs, sugar, and real cream. Hollis threw in a duffle bag and her laptop and was ready to go.

During the journey, Katharine and Dr. Flo filled the other two in on the graves, the letters, and the reason for the trip.

Posey was fascinated. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

“I never heard of ancestry.com,” Hollis said thoughtfully. “I’ll bet I could find all sorts of skeletons in our closets, Mama.”

“But no pirates,” Posey said with regret.

Midmorning, Katharine’s cell phone rang. “I’ve had an idea,” Hasty said without preamble. “How about if I come take you to lunch, then come back to your place for a swim?”

“No can do. I’m on my way to Jekyll Island with Dr. Flo and my sister-in-law, with a detour past Bayard Island. We heard yesterday afternoon that they’re doing the disinterments today.”

“You be careful. Those people are mighty careless with guns.”

“We’ll be careful. Thanks for calling.” She needed to get him off the phone. She felt vibrations from three sets of listening ears.

“Where will you be on Jekyll?”

“Her beach cottage. I need to go. I don’t like to talk while driving. Bye.” She hung up. Too late she remembered she hadn’t planned to let Hasty know where she went at the beach.

“Was that Uncle Tom?” Hollis called from the back seat in a voice dripping suspicion.

“Probably regretting he didn’t let you come up.” Posey contributed.

When Katharine didn’t answer at once, Hollis muttered, “It was her history professor.”

“He’s not my history professor, he’s a friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

Posey was too busy fumbling in her purse to reply.

A few minutes later, Katharine’s cell phone rang again.

“What’s the emergency?” Tom demanded.

“Emergency?”

“I got a message—this number plus 911.”

Katharine glanced in the rearview mirror. Posey was looking out the window.

“That was your sister being cute. Dr. Flo and I are on our way down to Jekyll again with Posey and Hollis. They are disinterring those graves this afternoon, so we’re going to attend.”

“What graves?”

“I told you, the ones on the island. Some of them belong to Dr. Flo and one belongs to a pirate.” Actually, she wasn’t sure she
had
told him.

“Oh, yeah. Those.” He wasn’t sure, either. She could tell. “Why are you going?”

“Dr. Flo wants to be present to be sure they re-bury them where she wants them.”

“And you are involved in this why?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later. Are you ready for the party tonight?”

“Almost, but I left my best studs at home. I had to buy new ones.”

“It never hurts to have two sets.”

Why are we reduced to talking about tuxedo studs?

“So you all are going down to the cottage after the burials?”

“Yeah. We’ll be there most of next week.”

He sighed. “Lucky you.”

She lowered her voice. “Wish you could come. Why don’t you?”

“I might, if I get a chance. Wish you could come to tonight’s party, too.”

She wished he had made that possible.

She controlled her face for the sake of the others. “I hope you have fun.” She managed not to add,
Watch out for barracudas
.

“My charming brother?” Posey inquired as Katharine closed her phone. “Finally regretting he didn’t let you come up?”

“You know good and well why he called. But he might come down sometime this week.”

“Good. Then I can beat him up in person. Listen, I’ve had an idea. We aren’t due down at the cemetery until two-thirty—right, Dr. Flo? We’ve made such good time, why don’t we drive into Savannah and eat lunch at The Lady and Sons? We’re early enough that it ought not to be crowded yet.” She added the last for Katharine’s benefit. The last time they had eaten at The Lady and Sons, they had stood on the sidewalk for an hour waiting to get in. The food and ambiance were worth it, but not if you were on a tight schedule. To clinch the deal, Posey added, “My treat, to thank you for including me in the day’s festivities.”

Dr. Flo looked at Katharine and raised her eyebrows with a pained expression, silently asking whether she had told Posey about the Gadney financial woes.

Katharine shook her head. “Posey loves treating people to meals.”

Hollis piped up from the back. “Daddy claims he works until June to pay Uncle Sam and until August to buy Mama’s friends lunch and dinner. But let’s take her up on it.”

“Okay,” Katharine called over her shoulder, “but you all needn’t consider this trip a gourmet pilgrimage. Dr. Flo and I eat real light at the beach.”

“I will after this,” Posey agreed amiably, “but I can’t pass Savannah without one meal at The Lady and Sons. I watch Paula Deen’s TV show religiously, and have used lots of her recipes.”

“What she means,” Hollis translated, “is that she gives them to Julia to make.”

“Besides,” Posey added, ignoring her, “not only is the food delicious, but her sons may be there. They are hunks.”

“Mama!” Hollis protested. “At least one of them is married. Besides, I lived in Savannah four years. If I’d been interested in one of them back then—”

“I’m not thinking of you, honey, I look for my own enjoyment. You wouldn’t know what to do with a hunk if you got one. Everybody okay to go?”

“I could call Rodney while we’re there,” Dr. Flo put in her vote. “We need to set up a time to get together and discuss the legal aspects of this situation.”

“Why don’t you invite him to join us?” Posey offered. “If you all want to sit at a separate table and talk business, you can, but it’s still my treat.”

Dr. Flo borrowed Katharine’s cell phone and Katharine headed to Savannah.

“I hope Rodney’s on time,” Dr. Flo said as they were walking to the restaurant.

“You sound a lot happier to be seeing Rodney than most folks meeting their husband’s nephew,” Hollis teased. “Is he a hunk, like Mama’s hankering after?”

Dr. Flo laughed. “He’s more than presentable, but actually I’m his godmother. When that child was twenty minutes old his mama put him into my arms and said, ‘Flo, you gotta help me with this. I don’t know a thing about babies.’ I didn’t either, but Mary and Horace lived not far from us, and Maurice and I were over there all the time. We stood up as godparents at his christening and saw him every week until he was six, when their family moved to Birmingham. That nearly killed us, but Rodney came and spent time with us every summer. We also took him to Disney World, Europe, and Japan, and we always got together for Christmas. Since he’s moved to Savannah, I don’t see as much of him as I’d like, so yes, you could say I’ll be happy to see him. Besides, he’s just gotten himself engaged to a beautiful girl his mama adores, so I need to give him a hug. There he is now!”

Rodney was waiting outside the restaurant door, a slender, well-built man about thirty with hair cut short to show a well-shaped head and the profile of a Roman emperor. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but certainly more than presentable.

“He gets his nose from his father’s family,” Dr. Flo confided. “It’s his mother who was Maurice’s cousin. More like a sister, really.” The next minute, she was engulfed in a hug.

Hollis told Rodney, “You are mighty nice to spend your Saturday afternoon having lunch with four women.”

His laugh was deep and rich. “What Auntie Flo wants, Auntie Flo generally gets.”

Dr. Flo gave a happy little chuckle. “Right now, I want the best attorney in this area. But when you see the sleaze-ball you’re going to have to work with, you may not thank me. He could give us a lot of trouble.”

“When you swim with the sharks, you expect to run into scum. He doesn’t scare me.”

Over lunch, Dr. Flo and Katharine described what had happened in the previous week and what they had found in the letters. “I don’t know if that’s enough to win a case or not,” he admitted. “But I’ll be happy to check for you.”

He waved them on their way, promising to bring his fiancée to Atlanta soon.

When they reached Bayard Island, Katharine noted as they crossed the little bridge, “We’re still a bit early. Didn’t Mr. Curtis say two-thirty? It’s barely two.”

“We might as well go on down there,” Dr. Flo decided. “I’d like a chance to take pictures before they start digging.”

Katharine turned in past the twenty-miles-an-hour sign.

“Are you all sure this is the right road?” Posey asked a few minutes later. “We’ve been driving through these woods for a very long time.”

“We’re sure. We’re nearly there.” Katharine glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Dr. Flo perched on the edge of her seat, as excited as a child going to Grandmother’s. Katharine smiled. The professor seemed to have embraced her connection to this island and the cemetery, if not to Mallery or the Bayards.

The clearing was empty. No digging machines or men with shovels. No Bayards. No Mr. Curtis. “Shall we wait in the car?” Katharine pulled as close as she could get to the cemetery, in the shade of one of the big live oaks. It was a blistering day, with predictions that the temperature would reach a hundred.

Dr. Flo already had her door open. “I’m going to take my pictures. You all can do as you please.”

Katharine handed her a spray can of insect repellant. “I want everybody to spray real good this trip.”

Dr. Flo obeyed, then handed the can to Posey, who said, “As long as we’re here early, I might as well look, too, if you don’t mind my company.”

“The more the merrier,” Dr. Flo assured her.

“I’ve been sitting too long,” Hollis announced, “but I’m not crazy about sightseeing in a cemetery. I’ll walk around a little and come back in half an hour or so.” She climbed out and headed for a path that led toward the marshes. Katharine hadn’t noticed it before.

“Watch out for snakes!” Dr. Flo called after her, then crossed the clearing at a brisk trot.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Posey said. “I just need to call Wrens and check in.”

That was the second time she’d spoken with Wrens that day. Katharine never could figure out why they needed to be in such frequent touch, but Posey couldn’t understand why she and Tom didn’t.
Different strokes for different folks
, she thought as she covered herself with repellant.

Posey shaded her eyes with one hand. “Looks like they’ve put up a tent over some of the graves. Maybe that’s where they plan to start?”

Katharine hadn’t noticed the green canopy until then. “If they do, we may be here all afternoon. That’s diagonally across the cemetery from Dr. Flo’s graves. Have you sprayed yet?”

“Does repellant help with chiggers?” Posey stood on one leg to spray her other foot.

“I have no idea, but let’s hope so.” Katharine wished she had mentioned footwear when she and Posey were discussing clothes. Posey wore black sandal heels without stockings, which she was going to regret after walking through sandspurs and saw grass. Dr. Flo had changed into her laced walking shoes again while Katharine had worn black flats in soft glove leather, knowing they’d have to stand a while.

“We can leave our pocketbooks in the car,” she said as Posey picked up her clutch.

“Do I look all right?” Posey peered down at her new black pantsuit. “I’m not overdressed, am I?”

“You look marvelous.”

Perhaps a bit overdressed for an afternoon by the marshes on an all-but-deserted island in July, but they had all dressed for the occasion. Dr. Flo wore another of her broomstick skirts, this one patterned in dark brown and gold, and she had partnered it with a silky beige top and a gold linen jacket. If Katharine had followed her druthers, she’d have dressed like Hollis, in jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and running shoes with socks. For once, Hollis’s black jeans and black shirt looked exactly right. Instead, Katharine had put on white cotton slacks, a sleeveless black cotton shell, and a black-and-white-striped jacket with square black buttons. Dangling black earrings and a chunky black-and-white necklace completed her ensemble.

“More funky than funereal,” Posey commented as Katharine settled a wide-brimmed black straw hat on her head, “but you look stunning, as always.”

The heat and bugs were as bad as Katharine had feared. The cicadas made their particular brand of white noise in the background, and in spite of the repellant, mosquitoes dive-bombed them as they crossed the clearing. Before they were halfway across, Katharine felt drops of sweat rolling down her back and between her breasts.

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