A Peach of a Murder (21 page)

Phyllis called Mike, and it seemed like he was there immediately. Eve and Sam wondered why he was in such a hurry when he came in, but when Phyllis asked them for some privacy, Sam seemed to understand that something had happened. Eve was more curious and wasn't quite as cooperative, but when Sam mentioned that they could watch the rest of the baseball game on the TV in his room, Eve went with him. "I want to see all those bookshelves you've been building, dear," she said as the two of them started up the stairs. "I don't believe I've ever been in your room."

Fleetingly, Phyllis hoped that Sam had the sense to leave his door open.

Mattie was still sitting at the kitchen table. Phyllis and Mike joined her, and Mike said, "Evening, Miz Harris. How are you?"

"Feeling better now," Mattie said. "Feeling a mite better." Mike looked curiously at his mother.

"All right, Mom, you said this was important. What's it all about?"

Murder, Phyllis thought, or perhaps, in a way, justice. But she said, "Mattie has some things she wants to tell you, Mike."

"All right," he said with a nod. He smiled at Mattie. "Go ahead, Miz Harris."

"It's about what happened that day, out at Newt Bishop's farm," Mattie began.

That caught Mike's interest. He leaned forward slightly and asked, "You've remembered something?"

"You could say that. I remembered something that day, all right. I remembered how badly Newt treated his little boy and how miserable poor Darryl was because of it. I saw Justin, Darryl's boy and Newt's grandson, out there at the orchard, and it took me back. Lord, it took me back. I thought Justin was Darryl at first. When it got through to me that he wasn't, I knew I'd been given another chance. I had to make sure Newt never mistreated Justin like he did Darryl. So when I came out of the house after usin' the facilities, I stopped in at the barn to give Newt Bishop apiece o' my mind, like I should've done years ago."

"And you saw what happened to him?"

Mike had jumped to that conclusion, and Phyllis didn't blame him. She said quietly, "Let her tell it her own way, Mike."

"Sure. Sorry, Miz Harris. You go right ahead and tell me what you saw."

"You don't understand, Mike," Mattie said. "I didn't see what happened to Newt. I did it."

Mike could only sit there and stare, obviously unable to fully comprehend what he was hearing.

Phyllis knew just how he felt. She had been so stunned that afternoon when she realized the truth that she had almost passed out.

"Newt was under that old car of his, workin' on it, and 1 saw that old bumper jack was all that was holdin' it up. He didn't have it blocked up or anything. So I said to him that he never should've mistreated Darryl and I'd see to it he never hurt Justin, and while he was askin' me what I was talkin' about, I grabbed that tire iron and hauled off and gave the lever on that jack a good wallop, and it came right down, right on top of Newt. Then I wiped off the tire iron-I've seen enough mystery shows on TV to know to do that-and tossed it down and went back to the orchard. I could hear Newt gruntin' a little, but I didn't pay it no mind."

Mike stared at her, wide-eyed with disbelief. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

Phyllis wondered if this was the first murder confession he had ever heard.

Mattie fell silent, and Phyllis had to say, "That's not all. Tell him about Donnie."

Mike's gaze switched to Phyllis for a second, growing even more astounded. He looked back at Mattie as she began to talk again.

"Well, Donnie was different, you see. With Newt, I didn't really think all that much about what I was doing. I just made sure he wouldn't ever beat on Justin. But once I'd taken care of Newt, I figured that Donnie had it comin' to him, too. What happened with him was because of what he did all those years ago, and I had to think about it for a while before I decided what to do."

Mike couldn't contain himself. He said, "You killed Donnie Boatwright?"

"He had it comin';' Mattie repeated snappishly. "He raped me. Date rape, they call it now, but that doesn't make it any better. He hurt me ... inside, you know ... so I couldn't have any kids of my own. Not ever."

"Oh, Mattie,"Phyllis said softly. The older woman hadn't told her about that part of it earlier.

Mattie's spine stiffened and her chin lifted. "I know he did a lot of good for Weatherford and for Parker County. I'm not disputin' that. But it didn't change what he did to me. Nothing could ever change that. So I got to thinkin' about what Dr. Lee told me a while back, when we were talking about cancer treatments. He told me all about that laetrile stuff and how they made it from apricot pits, but peach pits had the same chemical, and if you were taking the stuff you shouldn't eat peaches because it might kill you. He said it wouldn't do any good for cancer anyway and that I didn't need to take it."

Mike glanced at Phyllis. "Cancer?"

"I'll explain later. Go on, Mattie."

"Well, like I said, I got to thinkin'. I took a bunch of peach pits out of the trash after Phyllis was through with 'em, and I got me a hammer and mashed ' em up and put them in water and boiled

'em, and then I took the water and saved it and later got some more peach pits and did the whole thing again, oh, two or three times I guess, until I figured that water was just full of that chemical that turned into poison. Then, come the day of the peach festival, I had it in my purse and when I got my chance I poured it into Donnie's water bottle. Wasn't too hard, because Donnie was always talkin' to people and he'd put that bottle down and not pay any attention to it while he was carryin'

on and makin' jokes and such"

"So you admit that you killed him?" Mike asked. "Just did, didn't I."

"I don't understand;' Mike said, and the strain in his voice made it clear he was telling the truth.

"You knew that the police suspected your friend Miz Wilbarger of murdering him, but you didn't speak up?"

Mattie grimaced. "And I feel mighty bad about that. I never would've let Carolyn go to jail. I figured she wouldn't, though, because I knew she didn't do it. Half the time, too, I didn't really know what was goin' on. I'd forget that bonnie was even dead, let alone that I had anything to do with it. Seemed to me like he ought to still be alive."

"This is ... incredible," Mike muttered.

"Oh, you haven't even heard all of it," Mattie told him. "I haven't said anything yet about how I tried to kill that young teacher out at the high school."

Mike looked like it was all he could do to stay in his chair and not bounce up in amazement.

"You're talking about Jani Garrett?" he asked, after a moment of struggle to control himself.

Mattie nodded solemnly. "Now that was like it was with Newt Bishop again. I didn't plan it out or anything. I was mad as a hornet at her because of what she'd done to poor Billy Moser-"

"Who's Billy MoserT' Mike interrupted.

Phyllis said, "He was a student at the high school who committed suicide because he was having an affair with Jani Garrett and she broke it off."

"Good Lord," Mike murmured. He let out a long sigh. "Well, go on, Miz Harris, if you want to."

"Oh, I want to. It feels mighty good to be telling you about all this, Mike. I never was good at keepin' secrets.... Anyway, I got done with tutoring a little early and walked outside to wait for your mama to pick me up. I was out in the parking lot with nobody else around, and I saw that woman come out of the building and start toward me, and there was a car right there with the keys in it.... I could see 'em in the ignition ... so I tried the door and it was unlocked. I got in and started it up and pulled out. It'd been a while since I drove a car ... I don't see too good anymore, you know, and I guess my reflexes are slower'n they used to be ... but they were fast enough to aim that car at her while I tromped on the footfeed. She tried to get out of the way, but I was able to hit her. Then I just turned the car off and got out and went back up to the sidewalk in front of the school, and it wasn't long before some other folks came along and found her lyin' out there where she fell."

Mattie shook her head. "I remembered later that I didn't think to wipe off the steerin' wheel. I've been expecting you to get my fingerprints off it and come to arrest me." "The police got some unidentified fingerprints off the wheel, all right, but all anybody knew was that they didn't match the girl who owned the car or anybody in her family. Miz Hams, your fingerprints must not be on file anywhere. We didn't get any matches from the unidentified ones found on Mr. Boatwright's water bottle, either."

Mattie frowned in thought for a moment and then said, "You know, I suppose you're right. I've never been arrested before, or anything like that."

Phyllis patted her hand. "You're not under arrest now." She glanced at her son. "Is she, Mike?"

"No, not yet," he said with a shake of his head. 'This is all unofficial. I didn't advise Miz Hams of her rights or anything like that. But I'll have to tell Sheriff Haney and Chief Whitmire what happened, and I'm sure they'll want to come talk to you, Miz Harris."

"Let 'em come,' Mattie said calmly. "I'll tell them the same thing. No good can come of keepin'

secrets. I can see that now."

The three of them sat there quietly for a moment, and then Mike asked, "Is there anything else?" He sounded like he was a little afraid of what the answer might be.

"No," Mattie said. "No, that's all of it."

"Why don't you sit right there for a few minutes while I talk to my mother?"

"All right."

Phyllis and Mike got up and went into the living room. Mike glanced toward the kitchen and said quietly, "I don't suppose there's any chance she'll try to get away."

"She's not going anywhere, Mike," Phyllis said. "In fact, there's a chance that in another five or ten minutes, she won't even remember the conversation she just had with you."

"Wait a minute." He looked alarmed. "You mean you think she'll recant her confession?"

"I mean she won't remember it. She has Alzheimer's. Really, she held it together in there a lot better than I've seen her do in a long time."

"But ... but if her mental state is that bad, how are we going to arrest her and put her on trial and . .

." He trailed off helplessly.

"You may have to arrest her," Phyllis said, "but there shouldn't be any need for a trial. I talked to Walt Lee this afternoon. Mattie has a tumor in her brain, and there's nothing that can be done about it. She has two or three weeks to live, maybe a month. A trial would just be a waste of time."

"Oh, Lord. I'm sorry, Mom. I know how close the two of you have always been."

Phyllis smiled sadly. "I think that's why I never saw until today what had happened. My instincts told me there was something linking all three incidents, but I never saw what it was, other than the fact that I was close by every time. But so was Mattie. It just never occurred to me to think that she might've had anything to do with them."

"What made you realize that she might be involved?" "Walt Lee told me he let it slip to Mattie that she might not have very long left. I think that's what set her off. You know how she's always been, always putting other people first and doing everything she could for the community. That's what she was doing here, ridding it of people it would be better off without. She had seen with her own eyes the harm that Newt Bishop and Donnie Boatwright and Jani Garrett had done. It was more personal vengeance with Donnie, of course, but I suppose she figured that if he would do such a thing to her, he must have hurt other people, too. And sure enough, it turned out that he had:'

Wearily, Mike rubbed his hands over his face. "Nobody's ever going to believe this," he said. "Just the fact that all three crimes turned out to be connected is incredible enough, but to think that they were carried out by somebody like Miz Harris."

"You'll keep it as quiet as you can, won't you? There won't have to be a spectacle, will there, at least not until after she's gone? She has so little time left."

"I can't promise anything," he said, "but Sheriff Haney and Chief Whitmire are both good men. I'm sure they'll do what they can to make it easier for her."

"I hope so," Phyllis said.

A footstep at the bottom of the stairs made her turn. Sam stood there, a frown on his face. "What's going on?" he asked. "You two look like you just lost a good friend:'

"I think that's exactly what happened," Phyllis said. She moved over to Sam and clutched his arm.

"Can you get Eve and Carolyn and come back down here in a few minutes? I need to talk to all of you:'

Sam nodded. "Sure." He started up the stairs but paused to look back at her. "Are you all right, Phyllis?"

"I will be," she told him. "After a while, I will be." Then she went back into the kitchen. Mattie still sat at the, table, with her eyes closed now, moving her head a little as if in time to a tune only she heard. When Phyllis touched her arm, Mattie opened her eyes and looked up and said, "That's Fred Waring, you know. Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians. The music's so pretty, and it's just a beautiful night. . . ."

The six of them walked away from the gravesite. It was September now, but still warm. Fall wouldn't even begin to arrive for another few weeks. Despite that, there was a sense of finality in the air, a feeling of something coming to an end. How could it be otherwise in a cemetery, Phyllis thought, where a dear old friend had just been laid to rest?

Sam, Mike, and Sarah were slightly in front, with Phyllis, Eve, and Carolyn behind them. The service had been very well attended. Over half the current teachers in the district and many former teachers had been there. A crying Dolly Williamson had hugged all of them. Most of the mourners were aware, at least to a certain extent, of what had happened, but of course nothing was said about that. They were there to honor a woman who had done good all her life.

"I hope this is the last funeral I have to go to for a long time." Carolyn said fervently.

"I couldn't agree more, dear," Eve put in. "I'd much rather attend a wedding than a funeral. Not that I intend to ever get married again." She looked pointedly at Sam. "Although plans can always change, of course."

Skillfully, Sam pretended not to have heard that comment, even though Phyllis could tell that he was well aware of what Eve had said. He sort of confirmed that by changing the subject.

"You know, I was readin' in the paper the other day that there's a fair or a festival or an expo or something like that somewhere in Texas nearly every week out of the year. And most of them have cooking contests that go along with 'em."

Carolyn perked up at that. "Really? I've heard of such things, but I didn't know there were so many of them." "It's the gospel truth," Sam said. "I'll show you the article in the paper. It even had a list of some of the contests." "You know, I've always said that a good cook ought to be able to come up with a recipe for any situation. I'll bet I could enter almost any. of those contests and stand a good chance of winning."

"You think so, do you?" Phyllis said.

"I don't see why not. Of course, with some cooks, it's better if they stick to the one thing they do well ... or even not so well, as the case may be."

Phyllis looked over at her with narrowed eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

"Certainly not. I just understand why you wouldn't be interested in anything like that, Phyllis."

Sam said, "What's that line from that old Dirty Harry movie? À man's got to know his limitations.'

I guess a cook does, too."

Phyllis stopped short, forcing the others to come to a halt, as well. "I know what you're trying to do," she said. It was little short of amazing that Sam and Carolyn would cooperate on anything, even something like snapping her out of the funk that had gripped her these past few weeks. But it was obvious to her that was what was going on....

And she loved them all for it.

Carolyn sniffed. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," Phyllis said. "What kind of cooking contests are we talking about?"

"Oh, all kinds," Sam said blithely. "Chili cook-offs and pie contests and the best recipe for goat stew and barbecue and strawberries and, oh, yeah, the peanut festival, can't forget the goobers. . . ;'

They walked on toward the cars, through the late summer sunshine and the dappled patches of shade from the post oaks, past flower beds and granite markers, out of death into life, and by the time they left the cemetery the challenge had indeed been laid down. As Sam had said, there were contests and cook-offs and bake-offs all over Texas. A person could stay busy entering just half of them, and could see a lot of interesting sights at the same time.

Too busy, Phyllis hoped, to ever run across another murder.

Phyllia'a Spicy Peach Cobbler

1 Tbsp. cornstarch

1/2 cup water

1 1/2 Tbsp. minced candied ginger

4 cups sliced peaches

1/2 cup brown sugar

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine cornstarch, minced candied ginger, brown sugar, and water in saucepan. Cook until thickened and then add peaches. Cook until peaches are hot, about 5 minutes.

Pour into buttered 9-inch pan, making sure the ginger is evenly distributed.

Basic Pie Crust

for 1 (9-inch) pie crust.

1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour

3 Tbsp. ice water

1/2 cup shortening

1 tsp. granulated or turbinado (raw) sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

Mix flour and salt in chilled bowl, then cut shortening into the flour with a pastry cutter, until mixture resembles the texture of tiny split peas. When the mixture is the right texture, add the ice water and combine with a fork. Quickly gather the dough into a ball and flatten into a 4-inch-wide disk. Wrap in plastic, and refrigerate at least 30 minutes. Remove dough disk from refrigerator. If stiff and very cold, let stand until dough is cool but malleable. Using a floured rolling pin, roll dough disk on a lightly floured surface until it's bigger than the pan. Transfer dough by carefully rolling it around the rolling pin, then lift and unroll dough, centering it over the fruit. Vent crust, and sprinkle granulated or turbinado (raw) sugar on top to give a delightful sparkling appearance.

Bake cobbler for 50 minutes or until golden brown.

The candied ginger gives this dessert a warm, zesty taste.

Carolyn's Peaches-and-Cream Cheesecake

8 oz. cream cheese, softened

2 cups fresh sliced peaches

1 cup sour cream

1/2 cup sugar

3 Tbsp. sugar

2 eggs

1/2 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 tsp. vanilla

Mix cream cheese and 1/2 cup sugar together. Beat in eggs and add 1 1/2 tsp. vanilla. After well blended pour cream cheese mixture into a deep-dish, baked nutty graham cracker crust. Bake in 350 degree oven for 20 minutes. Cool for 5 minutes. Arrange a layer of sliced peaches on top of the baked cheesecake. Mix sour cream, 3 Tbsp. sugar and 1/2 tsp. vanilla until blended. Spread on top of peaches and bake 5 minutes.

Cool.

Refrigerate.

Nutty Graham Cracker Crust

1 cup finely ground graham cracker crumbs

3 Tbsp. butter, melted

2 Tbsp. finely chopped pecans

2 Tbsp. white sugar

Mix graham cracker crumbs, sugar, melted butter or margarine, and pecans until well blended.

Press mixture into a deep-dish 9-inch pie plate. Bake at 375 degrees for 5 minutes.

Cool.

Mama's Roast Beef Supreme (Coke Roast)

5-6 lb. beef roast

8 oz. cola

flour

salt

oil

pepper

Season meat to taste with salt and pepper. Dredge roast in flour. Brown roast on all sides in a small amount of oil. Place roast in a baking dish and cover. Bake at 375 degrees for about 3 hours.

Uncover during the last 30 minutes and pour the cola over the roast. Baste often. When done, drain off the liquid to use in the gravy.

Supreme Roast Gravy

3 Tbsp. butter or margarine

1 Tbsp. vinegar

1/2 tsp. powdered mustard

3 cups broth

Melt butter in pan, add flour and lightly brown. Add powdered mustard, vinegar, and broth from roast. (Can use bouillon cubes and water with liquid from roast to make 3 cups.) Cook until thickened.

Author's Note

Parker County peaches are known for being some of the best in Texas, and each summer the Parker County Peach Festival is held in Weatherford, Texas. For dramatic purposes, I've taken a few liberties with the facts of the peach festival, such as adding a cooking contest.

Most of the settings in this novel are real and are described as accurately as possible. However, the characters and their actions are completely fictitious products of the author's imagination, and are not based on any real persons, living or dead.