Deep Fried Trouble (Eugeena Patterson Mysteries) (16 page)

Sunday morning was quiet despite the fact that I had a house full of people. Porgy managed to make his way on the bed again and I didn’t move him. My daughter was scot-free and sleeping safely down the hall, but a crime had been committed. There were too many unanswered questions.

Maybe Mary’s house was about to be burglarized and she surprised the thief. The thief killed her and then decided it wasn’t worth taking anything. It would have been real easy to leave a fingerprint or fibers somewhere for the cops to pick up on.

No longer wanting to look at the ceiling, I decided to start breakfast. I didn’t know if I could round up ever
yone for church later in the morning, but breakfast may help.

Porgy beat me into the kitchen. I filled up his bowl and set fresh water down. Filling up a coffee pot with fresh water, I decided it would be good idea to introduce my baked cheese grits to the rest of the family.

As picky as Kisha was about eating, she seemed to like the grits. Then again she was like her grandmother; anything with cheese was alright with her.

An apron lay across one of the kitchen chairs. It was the one I gave Amos to wear yesterday to protect his clothes. I guess that’s why Junior had such a strong reaction since it was his father’s apron.

I’m still not sure what all happened yesterday. It been awhile since I’d had my entire family together. God answered many prayers of mine in one swoop. I blinked in order to keep the rush of tears that flowed into my eyes from falling down my face. It didn’t work. I heaved and then wiped my wet face.

Thank you, Lord, for your grace and mercy.  You are so good to me and I know I don’t deserve it.

I heard a noise behind me. My eyes met my firstborn son.  “Junior, what you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Kind of early to be starting brea
kfast.”

“There’s a lot of people in this house. Even Cedric stayed over last night. Want some coffee for starters?”

“Sure!” Junior pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. “So you and Mr. Amos an item?”

Now my hand wasn’t wet, but the coffee cup I grabbed from the cab
inet went sliding and then crashed to the floor. “Not that cup.” The large mug had been with me for years. In fact it was a past Christmas gift from Mary, at least ten years old. Why did I suddenly recognize all these memories of Mary? She seemed so much a part of my life and other times, a distant memory.

I missed her more than I ever thought I would.

Junior jumped up and grabbed the broom from the closet. “I’ll get it.”

I pulled down another cup and poured the brewed coffee. Porgy came over to inspect the pieces on the floor with his nose. “No, you don’t. Come here.”

I picked up the dog that covered my face with what must be doggie kisses. I didn’t quite have that in mind. “Okay, you. That is not necessary. You are a little mess.”

“You are really keeping that dog?”

“Of course I am. I like animals. Your dad didn’t like them at least not in the house. Porgy here will make good company.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a watch dog.” Junior swept up the r
emains of the cup and after he emptied the shards he added quietly, “And you have Amos?”

“Excuse me.”
I am not interested in Amos and even if I was I surely wasn’t discussing my love life with my son.

“I’m just saying, he’s a nice guy. We had some great conversations ye
sterday. He seemed real keen on you.”

I stopped petting Porgy at this point. “What does that mean?”

“He helped you look for Leesa. Wants to solve who killed Mary.”

“He is a former detective, which I appreciate.  A very helpful neighbor.”  I emphasized neighbor as I looked at my son. “He does cut the grass for me. Cedric never seems to have time to get over here.”

“Must make you feel good to have a man looking after you.”

I frowned. What was wrong with the boy? That kind of talk I e
xpected from Cedric, even Leesa, not Junior. “Son, are you okay?”

Junior sighed and then took another slurp of co
ffee. “I guess it didn’t hit me until last night, being back in the house.” He continued, “It just kind of put me at-ease some, that you had a decent neighbor especially with what happened to Louise. You didn’t tell me about her being attacked the other night.” His voice turned accusatory.

Louise. My dear friend. I didn’t get to go by the ho
spital to see her with all the excitement of Leesa’s return.              “You know I need to get to the hospital and see Louise. Did you know her son, William, is in town?”

“Really, I hadn’t seen him in years. What’s he up to now?”

“I have no idea, but the last time he spoke he was threatening to put Louise in a nursing home. I don’t know if I would like that at all.”

“People have to do what they need to do to pr
otect the folks they love, Mom.”

“Yeah, well he could have thought about visi
ting his mother more. That woman pined away over him.”

Why did William just show back up in town out of the blue? That slipped my mind too. He came back just as his mother was brutally attacked. I let it go and concentrated on the meal. Soon the rest of the family woke up and to my delight everyone attended church.

The Brown twins stared and I grinned back. I was a proud mama this morning and really didn’t care what they were thinking.

Back at the house as I watched my family laughing and talking my thoughts turned to Louise. I nee
ded to go see her. When Louise woke up she could surely send the police in the right direction. If she’s lucid enough, she could possibly help them sketch out the suspect.

Then another thought sent my heart pounding. Who’s to say Louise was completely out of danger now. Som
eone might not be too happy about Louise waking up. 

I sprinted through the hospital door. Had the police even considered Louise was in the hospital because someone intended to kill her? It was imperative to find Louise’s attacker, who I’m pretty sure had to be the same person who murdered Mary.

Sitting in my own kitchen in the morning, it occurred to me both of these women were attacked in their kitchens. Did Mary’s murderer attack Louise with similar intentions? But why? And who was this person both of my neighbors so willingly let into their home?

I entered the elevator almost bumping into a fam
ily. It appeared to be an older woman flanked by her two daughters, one on each side. As the elevator doors closed, one of the young women reached out and held down the open elevator button. I’m not sure what went on between them, but with some coaxing the two women seemed to convince the older woman she had to leave the elevator. As they walked out, the older woman turned her head, catching my eyes. There was a deep sadness there, like she’d lost her best friend.

The elevator beeped as it passed a floor finally a
rriving on the sixth floor, intensive care.  I scanned the hallway area and the small waiting room. As far as I could tell, William wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was just fine with me. I didn’t want to run into him because I would have to tell that boy, I mean man, how I really feel about him sticking his mother in a nursing home. I knew it was none of my business and not my decision to make. Louise was doing just fine.

I rounded the corner and headed towards a door. I pressed the bu
tton setting off a buzz from the other side. A second later, a voice said, “Yes, who would you like to see?”

“Louise Hopkins.” A longer buzz produced a click in the door latch. The heavy wide door swished as it opened.

A nurse greeted me, “What’s the relation?”

“Next door neighbor. How is she?”

The nurse ignored my question. “Your name?”

“Eugeena Patterson, I was here the other night.”

The woman scanned a list. “I have your name listed. You have fifteen minutes with her.” She pointed to the room. “Her condition is stabilized, but she is still heavily medicated. As you know with her age, we need to keep her comfortable and keep a close eye on her recovery.”

I nodded. “Thank you for the report.” The image that met me as I e
ntered the room was slightly better than Friday night. Louise looked so frail, her head framed by her white halo of hair. As she lay with equipment beeping around her, her wrinkles seemed to have deepened and her cheeks more hollow. Something about hospitals added ten or more years on a person.

I pulled up the chair and sat down. As I gazed at her face, I noted the bruising around her temple, once very purplish, now faded.  An IV snaked from around her arm up to the pouch hanging on a hook. Her attacker hit Louise across her head.
Could my old friend recover from this injury?

I sure wanted to see her eyes open.  But maybe that was a good thing at least for now. Whoever did this knew as long as Louise couldn’t talk
, they couldn’t be identified.

I couldn’t wrap my head around who would hurt either woman. But something happened to provoke an insane rage. The attacker grabbed whatever he or she could get their hand on and proceeded to cause da
mage. To human life.

I looked up at the clock on the wall. Where was William?  It was still kind of strange to me he showed up out of the blue.  And just when som
ething bad happened to his mother.

Louise always tried to highlight the good things that William did, but most people knew that Wi
lliam had a tendency to do all the wrong things. In the late eighties and early nineties before he took off across the United States, Louise had to keep an eye on her pocketbook and her possessions to ensure her own son wouldn’t walk off with them to support his drug habit.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder was Wi
lliam involved in this somehow. It seemed like Louise would’ve mentioned if he was back in town. She was just as lonely for family as I was, even more so with William being her only living child and rarely visiting. Suppose all the time William was the one who committed robberies in the neighborhood that he knew so well. He certainly knew Mary.

Mary would not just let him into the house. Before she lost her fa
mily, she was the kind of person that always tried to see the good in people. Unlike me, I was always suspicious or overly cautious. Mary became such a recluse in recent years; I imagined she would have been more cautious especially knowing William’s history.

But Mary reached out to Leesa. Which made me wonder, who was the person purposely trying to mislead the police by implicating my daughter as a suspect?

I looked at Louise. Suppose she was protecting her son all that time. How many times did Louise inquire about Leesa?

Wait a minute stop all this, Eugeena
. First of all, this is Louise we are talking about here. The one who couldn’t keep her mouth closed.

No, if Louise knew something she would have told me. This whole thing was making me crazy. I even wondered about Amos.  Ever
yone seemed to be a suspect.

A noise startled me. I expected to see the nurse, but all I saw was a flash of white clothing. That’s weird. Most nurses just walked right in while you’re visiting and do whatever they have to do.

I got up from my chair and headed towards the intensive care desk area. The same nurse who greeted me when I came in was busily tapping on a computer keyboard.

She looked up when I leaned over the desk. “Was someone just at the door now?”

The woman peered over her glasses at me. “Yes, but I told her only one person allowed in the room at the time.” The nurse shrugged, “I guess she was concerned about her grandmother.”

Grandmother?
I decided to keep my mouth closed. What I knew that the nurse didn’t know was that Louise didn’t have any grandchildren. That is unless William had a few surprises on the side. “I hate to bother you but can you describe her?”

The nurse described the woman and then frowned, “Why all the que
stions?”

“You do know Mrs. Hopkins is in intensive care because someone a
ttacked her?”

“I’m familiar with her situation.”

“Then you should also know her attacker hasn’t been found.”

“Well, you don’t think ...”

I looked at the woman like she’d lost her mind.

“Now that I think about it, she was acting ner
vously.”

“Call the police. Tell them someone needs to be here looking after Mrs. Hopkins.” I stormed out the door into the waiting area and drove like a mad wo
man back toward Sugar Creek. How did I miss this? None of it made any sense.

Grown folks talking, children screaming and a dog barking in d
elight were the sounds that met me as I entered the house. On the way home, I had cooked up a plan and Porgy was going to help me, but first I needed to talk to Amos.

“Mama, is that you? How’s Louise doing?” Ju
nior called out.

“She’s still in intensive ... what are you doing here? And you?”

Amos and Wayne sat across from both of my boys; all had cards in their hands. “Junior asked me if I knew how to play spades. Couldn’t resist. I hadn’t played in years. I needed a partner. Wayne here was available.”

Wayne, still looking clean-cut, grinned. “Hey Miss Eugeena. Like old times.”

Maybe that was my imagination, but my two sons seemed to have taken to Amos. Wayne seemed to look upon the man as a father figure in the past few days too. I couldn’t sit and ponder that for long, I was on a mission.

“Louise still hasn’t woken up enough to talk.”

Amos looked thoughtful. “That might be a good thing for now. Police still need to catch who attacked her.”

He was so right about that, but I didn’t know if I could interrupt their game and pull Amos to the side to tell him what I knew.

So, I continued with Plan A, not even quite sure of the full plan. I went off to find my four-legged roommate. “Porgy, you ready to go for a walk?” The dog started bouncing around as soon as he saw the leash. I snapped it on his little collar. I headed back down the stairs to see the men folks were still tied up with their game. Amos eyed me. “You’re going for a walk this time of day?”

I stared blankly. Did he know what I was up to? “Porgy’s been cooped up for a while.”

“Still, it’s really warm out.”

Junior and Cedric were both looking at their cards, but I could tell their ears were cocked to our conve
rsation.

“Oh I will be fine. Porgy and I will take a little walk and we will be right back.” I emphasized right back and looked at Amos.  I didn’t want to come right out and say I suspect one of our neig
hbors had been hiding something. “If I don’t come back, call in the troops.”  Amos stared at me. I know my smile was wobbly. I’m not good at hiding things. Hiding was just as bad as lying to me. In the case of what I was about to do, I figured it might be a good idea to drop some clues.

I shut the front door behind me and headed down my driveway in the direction of Mary’s house. As I walked, Porgy panted and trotted along my side, he didn’t seem as chipper, maybe because he was nearing his old home. As I passed the array of snapdra
gons and lilies, a picture started to come together in my mind. How did I miss this?