A Little Learning (8 page)

Since Jerry’s younger brother, Tucker, is a gardener, Jerry knows the names of almost all the plants. He’d pointed out the larkspur and butterfly bushes around the porch, the altheas and hydrangeas. I always felt so happy sitting out here on the porch with him as we surveyed our somewhat unkempt kingdom. I hoped Jerry felt the same way.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Just how beautiful all this is.”

“So you don’t miss the big city?”

“Not at all. Do you?”

He crunched a few more Cheetos before he answered. “Sometimes.”

I was glad for the opening. “I don’t want you to think you’re stuck here.”

“I wouldn’t call it stuck. I like it here.”

I sat down on the porch rail. “I was also thinking about how much I love this house.”

“Told you it would grow on you.”

“And I love this town—if people would stop killing each other.”

“Unfortunately, that happens everywhere.”

Inside the house, I heard the jingling tune of my cell phone. “I hope that’s not another one.”

I went into the living room and dug my phone out of my pocketbook. When I checked the caller ID I almost didn’t answer. Then I took a deep breath and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Madeline,” my mother said.

Might as well be cheerful. “Oh, hi, Mom, how are you?”

“You were in Parkland today and didn’t call? You could’ve come by the house. Your cousins were here from Ohio. I’m sure they would’ve loved to have seen you. And they were so sorry they didn’t know about your wedding. I’m sure they would’ve loved to have come.”

In the past, these layers of guilt would have smothered me. However, I’m on to my mother’s tricks. Plus I knew my cousins didn’t care a thing about seeing me or coming to my wedding. Like my mother, they’d given up on me when I renounced my pageant ways. “It was a business trip. I had just a few hours.”

“Business? Do you mean that little agency of yours?” I could imagine her holding the phone with one hand while she inspected her fingernails. I was sure she had on an immaculately tailored suit, most likely in black and white, her favorite non-colors. “Don’t tell me you’re finding enough work in Celosia.”

“I’m working on two cases right now.”

“Is Jerry working? What’s he doing?”

Putting the finishing touches on what I hope will be his last scam. “He’s still at the bookstore.”

“Will he not take any of that money he’s entitled to?”

“We’re getting along fine, Mom.”

“Claudia Mayfield said she saw you at the Weyland Gallery. Whatever were you doing there?”

My mother had always seen my art work as a foolish past time. When my first exhibit was panned, she saw this as proof I had no artistic talent. I took a moment to fashion just the right answer. “The Weyland asked to show some of my work as part of their New Artists Series.”

Silence.

“You’ll be able to see it next week. I’ll have three paintings in the show.”

More silence.

“One of the paintings they really like is ‘Blue Moon Garden.’ You may remember that one.”

“Well,” she said. “Well, that’s very nice, Madeline. Congratulations.”

It had taken a lot for her to say that. “Thank you. I hope you’ll come to the show.”

“I’d like that. The Weyland is the finest gallery in town, you know. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

I could hear her brain whirring as it readjusted its world view. Not my daughter, the Pageant Queen, or Ace Detective, but my daughter, the Upcoming Artist. She could use this to keep turning in her social circle.

“Will there be some sort of reception?”

“I’ll make sure you get all the details,” I said. “I’d like for you to come.” If she couldn’t be the mother I wanted, at least I wanted her as a friend. If having a daughter to brag about was the only way she could justify being a mother, then I was glad I’d done something right.

“This is good news, Madeline. I’ll see you at the gallery.”

“Thanks,” I said. I hung up and went back to the porch. “That was Mother. Hang on to the railing because I’m about to tell you something shocking. She’s happy about the art show.”

Jerry grinned. “About time she was happy about something.”

“She saw us in Parkland. Her spies are everywhere.”

“Maybe we should visit her next time we’re in town.”

“Let’s start with the art show. Give her time to adjust.”

“Okay.”

“And speaking of adjusting, you sure you don’t miss your wandering days?”

“Not really.”

“Is there enough in Celosia to keep you busy?”

He set the bag aside. “What’s all this about?”

“I just don’t want you to be bored.”

“Bored? Well, let’s see. I have my Bufo collection, my piano, my work at the book store, and the prospect of a hot night at the Celosia Elementary PTA, watching ace investigator, Madeline Maclin Fairweather, in action. How could I be bored?”

“Seriously, Jerry. We really should have discussed this more before we got married.”

“What’s to discuss? We’re together, and that’s all that matters to me.”

I was surprised by the tears that stung my eyes. I gave Jerry a long hug so he wouldn’t see the tears, and I could get myself under control.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Look, if this gallery thing and your mom is going to be too much stress—”

“No, it’s fine.” It really was fine. Usually a call from my mother left me feeling depressed and heavy, but I felt light, as if I’d been carrying a weight I didn’t know I had. “Let’s go pick out the perfect tie for you to wear tonight.”

“Would that be upstairs in our bedroom?”

“Yes.” I gave him a kiss. “Right now.”

Chapter Three

Jerry decided his green tie with the monkeys and bananas was appropriate for a school meeting. I wore a more conservative black skirt and red blouse. I had a chance to speak to several teachers before the meeting. All of them were sorry such an incident had happened during the school day, but not one expressed any deep regret that Amelia Lever had died.

During the business part of the PTA meeting, Jerry peeled a Bufo sticker from the back of the chair in front of me. The sticker showed Bufo in a heroic pose, his Sword of Thunder held aloft, his Shield of Justice deflecting the harmful rays of his enemies’ Battle Bolts. I showed the sticker to Rachel, who was sitting on my right. She shook her head.

“Those things are everywhere.”

Thad Murphy came on stage. He introduced the chorus members who sang a song about “Living Your Dreams” in honor of Mrs. Lever. I thought Mrs. Lever wasn’t living anything at this point. Murphy gave a brief talk about Amelia’s accomplishments at Celosia Elementary and then introduced her two grown sons, Kevin and Marshall Lever.

Amelia’s sons thanked Thad and the PTA for honoring their mother. The two men looked like twins. They had unfashionable Prince Valiant haircuts and ugly flannel shirts, but their trousers and shoes looked expensive. They were shy and sad-faced, like two dachshunds that had wandered away from their yard.

Thad Murphy had some closing remarks. “As for Mrs. Lever’s class, we’re pleased to announce that Miss Norma Olsen will be coming in tomorrow to take over the class. I hope all of you will make Miss Olsen feel welcome during this difficult time.”

After the meeting, Jerry and I offered our condolences to Kevin and Marshall Lever. Rachel said, “I’m so very sorry. I know you’ll miss your mother very much.”

“Thank you,” Kevin Lever said. “It was really nice of you folks to have this for her.”

“Is her funeral tomorrow? I’d like to come.”

He looked at his brother. “We don’t belong to a church. We’re having Mother cremated as soon as possible.”

Marshall Lever said, “Not to sound too harsh, but we didn’t get along with Mother that well. When we heard you folks were going to do this tonight, we thought being here was the least we could do.”

Jerry gave me a look. I knew what he was thinking. You have to be desperate or damned uncaring to come hear a few words about your dead mother at an elementary school PTA meeting. Or maybe “relieved” was the word I was looking for. The Lever boys showed no signs of grief.

“It’s too bad your mother forgot she was wearing a nicotine patch,” I said.

The brothers shared another unreadable glance. “Yes,” Kevin said. “It’s not like her to forget anything.”

“Could something have happened to distract her?”

“Not at school,” Marshall said. “She was single-minded about her work.”

“She was single-minded about everything,” Kevin said. “Did she have any friends here? Don’t worry. I’ll be very surprised if you say yes.”

I could tell Rachel was choosing her words carefully. “She was hard to get close to.”

“Did the children like her?”

“They respected her. Ronald Brown, especially.”

Thad Murphy came over, and soon the Levers were surrounded by other parents and teachers. Rachel, Jerry, and I stepped away.

Rachel introduced me to other members of the faculty. Everyone said pretty much the same thing. Amelia Lever was a good teacher, but a difficult person. She wasn’t a joiner, she was very strict with her students, and she should’ve retired years ago.

“Why didn’t she, then?” I asked Rachel.

“Who knows?”

“Maybe she needed the money,” Jerry said.

“And if she was too strict with her students, why wasn’t she let go?”

“Oh, her students always scored very high on the end of grade tests,” Rachel said. “That’s extremely important to the school. I’m sure if her kids had done poorly, Thad wouldn’t have put up with her as long as he did. Could you excuse me? I need to get to my classroom. The parents will be coming in to have a look at their kids’ artwork.”

“We’ll see you later,” I said. “We’re going to walk around. Where’s Mrs. Lever’s classroom?”

“The end of the first hall.”

From the art room, Jerry and I walked the short distance to the cafeteria. No chance of finding any incriminating footprints. The steps down to the cafeteria and the floors were scrubbed and shiny.

“Let’s go out to the loading dock first,” I said. “I may have overlooked something.”

The dock was empty and clean. “No clues here,” Jerry said.

“Let’s check around the trash cans.”

We went down the short flight of metal steps to the driveway. The area around the trash cans was clean. The trash cans were empty.

“I’m glad to know our public schools are this tidy,” Jerry said. “But it plays hell with finding clues.”

There was a narrow strip of grass between the dock and some sort of large generator or air conditioning unit. I bent down and searched through the grass, finding a dime, a marble, an eraser, plastic wrap from a cigarette pack, and a small piece of clear plastic.

I held it up. “Any idea what this is?”

Jerry took it. “Looks like the top part of a pen. I don’t know.” He handed it back to me. “Could be a piece of a kid’s toy.”

“I’ll take all these things, too.”

We went back inside and walked down the fourth grade hall. Teachers stood at their classroom doorways, greeting parents. Mrs. Dorman stood at the door to Mrs. Lever’s classroom.

“Mrs. Dorman, could we come have a look around?” I asked.

She frowned at me. “This is not the time. I’m very busy talking with parents.”

“I don’t need to ask you any questions right now. I’d just like to see Mrs. Lever’s classroom.”

She glared at me and lowered her voice. “Come back tomorrow afternoon when no one is here. There’s no reason to upset the children.”

From what I could see, the children were eagerly showing their parents their schoolwork and projects. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s upset.”

“Of course not! The children haven’t grasped the seriousness of this matter, and their parents are trying to act as if everything is normal. Please go away. You can look all you like tomorrow.”

I certainly didn’t want to make a scene. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Well, that’s an ornery old turtle,” Jerry said as we walked back up the hall.

“I can’t fault her for trying to keep things normal.”

“Normal? Try invisible.”

“Excuse me.” A tall man in a blue track suit stopped us. With him was a sturdy-looking dark-haired boy. I recognized the boy as the same student who had asked me about whacking Bernice King with the umbrella. “I couldn’t help but overhear you talking with Mrs. Dorman. I’m Oscar Brown, and this is my son, Ronald. Do you have a child in the class?”

“No,” I said. “I’m Madeline Maclin Fairweather, and this is my husband, Jerry.” I didn’t want to mention the possibility of foul play in front of Ronald. “We’re just visiting the school.”

We all shook hands, and Oscar Brown said, “Well, we’re not all heartless around here. Ronald liked Mrs. Lever, and I appreciated her tough approach to teaching. We were very sorry to hear about her, but, unfortunately, she was a heavy smoker. Ronald and I had talked about that.”

“Yeah,” Ronald said. “She wheezed all the time.”

“Did she ever try to quit?”

“She was trying those patch things.”

“Too little too late,” Oscar Brown said. “I understand she’d had health problems for years.”

“And now we’re going to have that sappy Ms. Olsen,” Ronald said.

His father frowned. “Ronald, I told you not to make any more comments like that about your new teacher.”

“But, Dad, she’s like a big ball of goo.”

I could tell Mr. Brown was trying to keep a straight face. “You still need to respect her. You might learn something from her.”

“Yeah, how to make daisy chains and sing ‘Kumbaya.’”

Oscar Brown looked at us apologetically and shrugged. “It’s going to be an adjustment. Come on, Ron, you wanted me to meet your P.E. teacher. Nice to have met you folks.”

We continued up the hall. “Well, it’s good to know Amelia had at least one fan,” Jerry said.

“And it’s beginning to look more and more like she died from a heart attack.”

“If she had a heart,” said a voice.

We’d reached the last classroom on the hall. A young woman grinned at us. “Sorry. Had to say it.”

“Did you have a problem with Mrs. Lever?”

“Certainly did. A little matter of an art and music grant.”

“The same one Mrs. Sigmon applied for?”

The young woman’s expression hardened. “That was the most blatant piece of sabotage I’ve ever seen. Lever deliberately screwed up the part she was supposed to write until it was too late to make the deadline.”

“And why would she do that?”

“She thought the arts were useless. She never wanted to send her kids to art, or to music, for that matter. She said art and music were just a waste of time.”

A group of parents approached, and the young woman’s expression returned to bright cheerfulness. “Hello! Welcome to the music room!”

“Yup, just one devoted fan,” Jerry said as we walked away.

When we came back to the art room, Rachel was talking to an overweight young woman with long curly brown hair and stiff bangs.

“I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally get this job,” she was saying. “Not that I’m rejoicing over her death, you understand, but things worked out really well for me.”

“Madeline, this is Norma Olsen,” Rachel said. “She’ll be taking over Amelia’s class.”

I shook Ms. Olsen’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Norma Olsen had a wide beaming smile that probably never dimmed. “Thanks. This will be my first class ever. I’m really excited.”

I wondered if anyone else had been considered for the job. “I’m not sure how it works in a school. Were you next in line?”

“Sort of. I’d been promised the job last summer, and then Amelia came back for another year. I was really furious, and then I thought, well, that’s just another example of how this school system operates. Now I have to take back all the ugly things I said about Thad and the school board.”

“Everyone was expecting Mrs. Lever to retire?”

“She should’ve retired years ago. She wasn’t just burnt out. She was nothing but ashes.”

She is now, I thought. Or soon will be.

“Well, I’ve got tons to do to get ready for tomorrow. See you tomorrow, Rachel!”

When Norma Olsen had gone down the hall, Rachel said, “Did you find out anything?”

“No, but I’m coming back tomorrow after school to talk with Mrs. Dorman.”

“Would I sound completely hard-hearted if I asked you to come a little earlier and continue your talk with my art classes?”

“No, that’s fine.” I didn’t mind an excuse to be at the school.

“Great! See you tomorrow, then.”

Jerry and I had just left the art room when Austin and Denisha rushed up to us.

“Madeline, what do you think? Are you going to solve the mystery? She was murdered, right? Who do you think did it?”

“Hold on,” I said. “We don’t know for sure what happened to Mrs. Lever.”

Denisha clapped her hands. “In our own school! This is so neat. It was lucky you were here.”

Denisha’s aunt, Averall Mercer, and Austin’s mother, Samantha Terrell, came up. Both were shaking their heads.

“Austin, for heaven’s sake, calm down,” Samantha said.

Averall made a “tsking” sound with her tongue. “Denisha Simpson, you control yourself. Stop jumping on Madeline like you haven’t got good sense.”

Austin was still bouncing. “But it’s a murder, Mom, and Madeline’s a detective.”

“It was an accident,” Samantha said.

“Then why is Madeline at PTA?”

“I’m just making sure I have all the information,” I said. “Right now, it does look like an accident.”

“But nobody liked her,” Denisha said. “I was so glad I got Mrs. Forrest instead of her.”

Averall shushed her niece. “That doesn’t mean someone killed her. There are lots of unlikable people walking around. Mrs. Lever shouldn’t have been smoking.” She steered Denisha toward the door. “Time to go home. Tomorrow’s another school day.”

Austin tugged on his mother’s arm. “They oughta close school on account of Mrs. Lever being dead. It could be a national day of mourning.”

“It could be, but it’s not going to be,” she said. “Come on. You’ve got some homework to finish.”

“Awww.”

As Jerry and I went out, we saw Kevin and Marshall Lever standing just outside the front door of the school, still accepting condolences from parents and teachers.

Jerry snapped his fingers. “Now I know where I’ve seen those guys before.”

“Amelia’s sons?”

“Yes, the winners of the Moe Howard look-alike contest. One of them was in the store the other day with a woman who must have been Amelia.”

“What did they buy?”

Jerry tried to look innocent and failed. “Well, I never eavesdrop on my customers’ conversations.”

“I’m sure that never happens.”

“But they were arguing so loudly, everyone in the store heard them. I should say she was arguing. The poor guy was trying to get in a word or two. It had something to do with a wedding. I gathered she wasn’t too happy about his choice of a bride. She said, ‘No one in the Lever family has ever married without permission.’ Then the man said something about wanting ‘Silver Archer Number Six,’ and she told him he was an idiot.”

“Anything else?”

Jerry shook his head. “A lot of times couples argue over the merits of having a comic collection. I try to keep out if it.”

“Did he buy the comic?”

“No, she made him leave without buying anything.”

“So she didn’t approve of his bride to be. A lot of mothers don’t.”

“The Lever brothers look old enough to make their own decisions.”

“They don’t seem very grief-stricken, but they said they weren’t close to their mother. I’m not really close to mine.”

“But would you give her a Deadly Cigarette of Doom?”

“That sounds like something Bufo might do, not me. I’ll visit the Lever brothers tomorrow after I’ve had a word with Mrs. Dorman.”