Penumbra (8 page)

“Just a moment.” Lucas got up and left the room. He came back with several thin files in his hand. “There are three people I’ve bested in business deals.” He remained standing, scanning the papers in his hand. “Oren McNeil, Kip Locklin, and Dantzler Archey.”

“How did you best them?” Frank asked. Business was sometimes business, and sometimes it was very personal.

“McNeil put in a bid on some timber I got. He accused me of having inside information.” His smile was superior. “Locklin tried to buy a major share of the railroad from here to Pascagoula. I squeezed him out.” He hesitated, his gaze slipping from the pages to the window.

“And Archey?” Frank prodded.

“His men were coming onto land I owned and taking my timber. They were pirates.”

Frank leaned forward, waiting. When Lucas didn’t continue, he asked, “What happened?”

“I told my men to set some traps. They did, on my land. Archey’s son brought a crew over to cut. He stepped on one of the traps. He bled to death.”

Frank had seen terrible deaths, horrible agony. A bear trap that would snap bone and chew arteries was not a good way to die. He rose. “I’ll check this information. If a ransom call comes, it’ll probably be here, at the house. Will you be here?”

“The rest of the day,” Lucas said. “Tomorrow, I have business to attend to.”

The phone rang, and Lucas rose slowly, with deliberation. He went to an extension on the desk in the library.

“This is Lucas Bramlett,” he said. He listened for a moment. “No, thank you, Governor. I don’t believe more dogs and searchers would be helpful now. Let me ask Deputy Kimble.” He looked at Frank.

Frank considered. “No. Not at this time,” he said.

“No, thank you. Not at this time,” Lucas said into the phone. He paused. “Yes, Governor. Yes, I will. I’ll let you know the minute we find her.”

Frank rose. “Thank you, Mr. Bramlett. I’ll be on my way. Call if you hear anything.”

J
ade locked the door of the shop, her shoulders so tired they felt as if a small, deep fire burned beneath the skin. Her last appointment was gone, but there was still work to be done. She had to set the towels to wash so she could hang them out early. Mr. Lavallette had called her from the funeral home. Not for Suzanna, though her heart had nearly burst when she heard his voice. Old Maizy Campbell had passed, and all she needed was a hair arrangement and a bit of lipstick. Jade had agreed to stop by when she closed the shop. Somewhere in the next hour or so, she also had to get a bath, iron a fresh dress, and go to the hospital. She’d called the hospital three times, but the only information they were giving was that Marlena’s condition hadn’t changed. Jade didn’t know if that was true or if it was just what the hospital employee had been told to say.

Desperate for any word at all, Jade had even called Lucille Longier’s house, and to her amazement, had heard the sounds of a party. Ruth had answered the phone and said that if there was a change, no one at the Longier house knew of it. “And no one cares,” Ruth had added with such bitterness that Jade felt fear for her mother. Ruth did not have to work for Lucille. Jade made enough money that her mother could stay home. But she wouldn’t. Ruth went every day, her back rigid with hatred, yet she went.

Jade worried for her mother. For Lucille, she felt nothing. Were it not for Marlena and Suzanna, Jade would never have thought of her kinship with the domineering old woman who took her father and mother so for granted.

Jade set the towels to soak, swept up the hair from her last cut, put combs, brushes, and curlers in perfumed disinfectant, and left. The sun was still hanging on the horizon, the day still hot, when she got in her car. She drove to Rideout Funeral home and slipped in the side door. There was no sign of Junior’s truck, and she was relieved. She’d spooked him, but it wouldn’t last. Junior was not a man she wanted to antagonize. His eyes held a strange gleam, something reptilian. He was the kind of man who hid beneath a rock, waiting to strike when a back was turned. She went straight to the embalming room. It took her a moment to adjust to the sight of the dead woman laid out on the porcelain draining table. Cuts had been made in the artery in her neck to insert the tubes for the embalming fluid to enter her body. To allow the blood to leave, Elwood had made another cut in the body. The heavier embalming fluid pushed the blood out and down the drain table.

Jade checked the level of fluid in the gravity bottle. The process was almost complete. She could see that Elwood had done the internal stitching necessary to keep the mouth shut. The body would normally be dressed before hair and makeup, but tonight, Jade had to finish up and get to the hospital. She retrieved the makeup kit she left at the funeral home, plugged in the rod to curl the hair, and adjusted the block under the woman’s head. Her goal was to make Maizy look like she was in a blissful sleep. Sometimes, this last look gave the family comfort. They could forget the suffering of a long illness or the shock of an accident.

“She looks so peaceful,” they would say, and they would take that back to their homes and hang onto it at night when the dreads or a bad conscience came knocking at the door.

Jade checked to be sure the embalming room door was closed before she spoke. “Maizy,” she said, looking directly into the face of the corpse, “tell me what you want done?” Sometimes Jade had to make a choice between pleasing the family and pleasing the dead, but she always asked first. She closed her eyes and waited until an image came. She saw Maizy Campbell in her yard, sunbonnet pulled down low as she worked a bed of pansies. As Jade watched, Maizy looked up, her face unadorned. “Okay,” Jade said. “I know now. I’ll do my best.”

With a light touch she applied Vaseline to Maizy’s lips to keep them closed and then added a hint of color. She took her pot of rouge and tipped her finger in it, using the merest smudge. The flesh beneath Jade’s fingers was cold, but she worked the rouge until it covered the high point of Maizy’s cheekbone, leaving only a faint flush when she was done. Jade got the curling rod and wrapped the hair, which had already taken on the texture of death, around it. In ten minutes, she had the hair curled and lightly combed out so that it fluffed around the sunken cheeks. She stood back, nodding. Maizy Campbell had been a woman without adornment throughout her life. She’d never come to Jade’s shop, but Jade had spoken to her in the market on occasion. Maizy had lost two children to fever and had four living. She looked as natural and peaceful as Jade could make her. Jade packed up her things and walked down the hallway to speak to Elwood.

He wasn’t in a parlor, so she turned right, toward his office. Her hand was on the knob when she heard voices. She didn’t want to interrupt Elwood when he was with a family, so she hesitated.

“Frank’s not talking, but I heard through the grapevine the slut was with a man,” Junior said. “She got exactly what she deserved.”

Jade felt her body go rigid. Only her heart pumped in large, painful thrusts. She had a vivid image of Marlena sitting on a picnic cloth, laughing at a silly remark made by a man. She realized how seldom she’d seen Marlena laugh. The idea that Marlena was committing adultery, while terrifying, struck her as suddenly true. But with whom? No one in Drexel would chance Lucas’s wrath.

“How do you know?” Elwood asked, impatience in his voice.

“You should have seen that picnic she had laid out. No woman’s gonna make chicken salad for a kid.”

“That’s slim evidence to be gossiping about Lucas Bramlett’s wife,” Elwood said. Jade heard papers rustle. “Let me remind you, Junior, that when you malign Marlena, you also cast a stain on Lucas.”

There was a stretch of silence, and Jade could almost hear Junior thinking. It was a slow and laborious process. “Lucas should know what his wife’s up to. He’d probably pay whoever told him.”

A chair creaked. “Let me suggest that you shut your mouth,” Elwood said in a tone Jade had never heard him use. “To suggest such a thing when a woman has been as severely injured as Marlena is begging for trouble. Lucas would not appreciate your insinuations, and if you want to enjoy the social aspects of Drexel, you’d better shut up.”

Jade just had time to step back and duck behind some curtains when the door flew open. The draperies were heavy and thick, and Jade couldn’t see Junior, but she could smell him. He stomped down the hall and left by the back door. She waited until Elwood closed his office door again, and then she knocked.

“I’ve finished with Mrs. Campbell,” she said.

“Thank you, Jade. Come in a minute.”

She stepped into the office, appointed with dark cherry furniture and another Oriental carpet with turquoise in the pattern. It was her favorite among all the carpets.

“I know you’re exhausted, and I appreciate it.” Elwood rose. He pointed to a carafe of coffee. “Would you like a cup?”

“No, thanks. I’m gone now.”

“Have you heard how Marlena is doing?”

“No, sir. I’m staying with her tonight. The hospital won’t give out information.”

Elwood nodded. “I’m sure that’s what Lucas wants. Half the town is gossiping about what happened and the other half is making it up.”

Jade felt a sense of suffocation. She nodded, forced a smile, and left the funeral home. The sun was just beginning to touch the tops of the trees when she got in her car and drove home.

Jade loved her old house. Her granddaddy, Mose, had put in all the cabinets, a beautiful light oak that gleamed whenever light hit it. The beds were hand-carved, one with cherubs and angels. Jade had chosen that bed for her own, covering it with a handmade quilt in a cherry blossom pattern, a gift from Ruth. There was a fireplace in the bedroom and indoor plumbing, something Jade had added herself. She turned on the hot water in the tub and went to the closet to select a dress. She chose a pale pink with a looser waist. Sitting in the hospital chair was uncomfortable enough without binding clothes.

While her tub ran, she got out the ironing board and iron and pressed the wrinkles out of her dress. Ruth had instilled in her the necessity of neatness. Jade didn’t leave the house unless she was wrinkle-free and clean, with lipstick applied. She smiled at the thought of her mother, whose dark skin had never known cosmetics, not even lipstick. Ruth had chosen to ignore her gender. It was almost as if Ruth had chosen to become more shadow than substance. The thought troubled Jade as she hung the dress and went into the bathroom.

She looked out the curtainless window. Her house was at least three miles from anyone else, something that concerned her parents, but she loved it. She shucked off her dress and underwear and stepped into the hot water. From her vantage point in the tub, she could watch the sun slip beneath the horizon. She didn’t particularly like dusk, because it marked a melancholia she didn’t understand. She loved the colors of sunset, though. Leaning back against the slanted porcelain tub, she let the hot water do its work on her tired muscles. She closed her eyes and sank lower, feeling the tug of sleep. For just a moment she relaxed enough to slide into a state where half-dream images raced through her mind. She heard the tip, tip of water dripping into the tub, but it was lulling. She heard the clock strike the hour of six. She heard the sound of footsteps on her porch.

Jade opened her eyes, fear clutching at her heart. She slid deeper beneath the water, the window a point of vulnerability now. There was no telephone in the house. Jade had chosen to have the phone in her shop instead. For business. She’d never felt a need for a phone since she had a good car. The light switch was across the room, and Jade would have to leave the tub to reach it. Her nakedness would be obvious to anyone outside the window looking in. She slipped further down, until only her nose and eyes were above the water. She could only pray that if someone walked by the window, her dark hair would seem a shadow in a corner of the bathroom. But they would know where she was. The light advertised her whereabouts.

There was no other choice. She got out of the tub, water sluicing to a puddle on the linoleum floor, her body shaking from fear. The memory of Marlena’s butchered body came back to her, the long line of black stitches that held her together. There was an animal on the loose.

The knock that came at the front door made her bite back a scream at the same time it brought a measure of relief. A robber or killer wouldn’t knock, her rational mind told her. She grabbed a white bathrobe that Marlena had given her from the hook on the door and tiptoed out of the bathroom into the dusky bedroom. She moved silently to a front window and peeped out. Frank Kimble stood on her porch.

“Jade,” he said, knocking lightly.

“Just a minute.” She tied the robe tighter and went to the door, not intending to let him in. She only needed to know if something had happened to Marlena.

“I need to ask some questions,” he said. His gaze dropped to the bit of throat revealed by her robe and then shot back to her eyes. A tingle of amusement touched her then, more a release from the tension than anything else, but she felt an irrepressible urge to laugh out loud. She did, and saw the incomprehension in Frank’s eyes.

“You just about scared me to death,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I thought someone bad was on the porch.”

He nodded. “Sorry. I tried to call the shop but you’d left.”

“Is there word on Marlena?” she asked.

“I’m going there next,” he said. “First, I wanted to ask you some questions.”

Jade stepped back from the door, aware in a new way of her robe and her slick body beneath it. Frank was a handsome man, but there was more to him than that. She had the sense that death had touched him more than once, and that he was no stranger to the machinations of the dead. It was something they shared.

“Have a seat.” She directed him to the kitchen table. “I’ll put on some coffee while I …” The word would not pass her lips. To say it would emphasize her nakedness beneath the robe. She lit the stove and put a kettle on. “I’ll be back.”

She hurried into the dress she’d ironed, pulling on clean panties and shoes. A decent woman always wore shoes, Ruth had drummed that into her head. No matter what she wore on her feet, though, the racing of her heart was indecent. She ducked into the bathroom, running a brush through her short hair, which was thick and curled in soft ringlets all over her head. She reached for her lipstick, but stopped. Frank would know she’d applied lipstick. He could read many things into that act, and she was afraid of what it revealed.

Before she sat at the table, she poured up the hot water. Those simple tasks calmed her. When she turned to him, her hands on the sink behind her, she managed calm. “You said you haven’t seen Marlena?”

He shook his head. “I’m going there next. You’re a bright woman, Jade. What do you think happened to Marlena?”

Jade knew what he was asking and skirted it. “She was attacked in the woods. Two men hurt her and took Suzanna.”

“What was she doing in the woods?”

“She took Suzanna fishing.” Jade met his pale gaze with a level one of her own.

“Was Marlena in the habit of fishing?”

Jade held herself very still. “Marlena isn’t in the habit of checking with me before she goes fishing or does anything else.”

Frank’s gaze dropped, and when he looked at her again, the chill was gone from his eyes. “I know you two are close.”

Jade thought about it. She shook her head. “No, we’re not. I work there sometimes, and I keep Suzanna when they need me. I wouldn’t say that Marlena and I are close.”

Frank shook his head. “You’re sisters.”

“Half-sisters,” she said, her voice emotionless. “That’s not something Marlena would view as an asset.” “She should.”

Jade turned away from his gaze and got two cups from one of the beautiful cabinets. She poured black coffee for both of them and placed a cup in front of Frank. She put her own cup at the table and sat down. “If I can answer any questions, I will. I want Suzanna back. The truth is, Marlena didn’t confide in me. Dotty Strickland is her close friend. Ask Dotty.”