Shadow of an Angle (15 page)

"You didn't bring the quilting scraps from Louise? She said she'd send some over today." As she spoke, Maureen slowly unwrapped the bundle and let the paper fall to the floor. "Oh." The baby-size pajamas dangled from her hand. "Why, these are a work of art! Did you—?"

I shook my head. "A friend sent them. She—that is, we thought your little boy might like them."

I closed my eyes.
Might like them? Babies don't like pajamas! Babies like milk andbeing rocked, silly
! "I meant, we hoped he could wear them."

She held the door wider to let me inside. "You brought these for Tommy? They look like a perfect fit. Thank you!" She stepped aside to lead me into a small living room. "Please, sit down—that is, if you can find a space. Did you say your friend
made
these?"

I nodded, looking about me. Every surface was covered in quilts, or fabric on its way to becoming quilts. "She sews like an angel," I said. "And so do you, it seems."

Maureen placed Tommy in his bouncy seat, and, removing a stack of what seemed to be Christmas pillow covers, sat on a small chair across from me. "Right now I'm behind in my orders," she said. "Louise Starr sells my things at her shop, Starr Bright, in Charlotte, and this close to the holidays, the demand gets ahead of the supply."

She smiled and offered tea, which I accepted. "Hope you like herbal," she explained. "I'm nursing. You must think I'm bonkers," Maureen said, pouring boiling water into a pot. "Louise sends me quilting scraps whenever she can get her hands on them, and I'm running low on red calico for a couple of crazy quilts I promised. I thought you were dropping them by for her." She smiled and stooped to offer a toy to Tommy. "I'm glad to get the pajamas. He's outgrown most of his others. Thanks."

I smiled back at Tommy, who gave me a toothless grin. "You're welcome."

I noticed how gracefully she accepted the gift—with no questions asked. Her baby needed the pajamas, and I supplied them. If only life could be as simple as that.

Later, over peppermint tea and introductions, Maureen told me her husband, whom she called R. T., had worked for a builder in California, but the cost of living was high there and the climate didn't agree with her, so they moved south to be closer to her family.

"That was soon after Tommy was born," she said. "But the company my husband went to work for here went out of business over a month ago, and he hasn't been able to find permanent work."

I told her I'd ask around and see if I could come up with any leads. "And I hope your quilting scraps arrive soon," I called as I was leaving.

"Now I know why I didn't hear you drive up," Maureen said, watching from the porch. "We'll have to bike together sometime. R. T. can baby-sit, and maybe you'll show me the good paths."

"I'd like that," I said, and rode away pleased that my stubborn angel had insisted I become acquainted with Maureen Foster. But I didn't think it was only because Tommy needed pajamas or I needed a biking buddy. Augusta Goodnight had something else up her heavenly sleeve.

According to Maureen's kitchen clock, it was a little after ten-thirty when I left. If I hurried, I could change, collect Augusta, and be in Charlotte in time for lunch. I remembered a barbecue restaurant on the south side that had a drive-in window and was known for its Brunswick stew. Augusta told me she'd sampled the stew in three of the states she'd visited lately, and was eager to see how North Carolina held up.

The idea appealed to me, as well, and I pedaled a little faster, then slowed as I came to the downhill curve.

"Jump!"
urged a voice in my ear. Augusta's voice.

"What?" Was I hearing things? What had Maureen put in that peppermint tea?

"Jump, Arminda!
Now
!"

And I pitched off the bicycle and rolled onto the shoulder of the road just as I saw the rope snap taut less than a foot in front of me. Clawing at air, I grabbed the first solid thing I touched, which happened to be a pine sapling, and clung to it, trying not to look down at the ravine that yawned below.

Chapter Fifteen

I
closed my eyes and smelled pine, felt resin sticky in my hands.

"There's a root just above you to the right," Augusta said. "Grab it—hurry! Now put your left foot on that rock.… Can you feel it? Good! No, don't look down!"

I reached for the root just as the sapling broke with a loud crack, and the pine tree gave way in my other hand. Fear sliced through me, cold and sharp, as if I'd been stabbed with an icicle.

My foot found the rock about the same time my heart found its rhythm again, and I slowly pulled myself up to lie dizzy and breathless on a mat of dead-looking vines. Kudzu, I hoped, but with my luck, they were probably poison ivy. Augusta stood above me and had the grace to look at least a little worried.

"Playing it a little close, aren't we?" I said, still gasping. I dug my toes into the rocky soil and did my best to burrow into the earth. Earth is good. Falling to it is not.

"I suppose it was feel and go there for a minute, but you're going to be just fine."
Now
she reached down to give me a hand up. "Let's don't make a mountain out of a gopher hole."

The part of me that wasn't still trembling was grateful to be alive. Both parts were confused. "I guess you mean
touch
and go." I crawled painfully to my knees and noticed for the first time the bloodstained tear in my pants. "As for the gopher hole—"

"Never mind that!" Augusta skirted my bike where it lay beside the road and propelled me to the other side. "Somebody wanted to kill you, Arminda. We have to get you to safety before they try something else!"

I looked back to see the rope, now slack, still attached to a tree on the side of the road where I'd fallen. Somebody had waited until I was almost upon it and then pulled it taut with a sudden jerk. If Augusta hadn't warned me, I would almost certainly have gone over the side and into the rocky ravine. Thankfully I patted my helmet. I hated to wear one, but this time it—and Augusta—had saved me from a severe injury or worse.

"Thank you, Augusta. Didn't mean to seem ungrateful. I'm just glad you came along."
However late
.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, still rushing me. "It's my job, Minda, but please remember I don't always know what's going to happen."

And I'm not sure, but I think she winked at me. "Sometimes, like you, I just have to wing it," Augusta said.

"Did you see who it was?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at brown leaves scattering across an empty road.

She looked a little sheepish. "I'm afraid I lingered longer than I meant to at the Fosters'. Maureen's quilts are lovely, aren't they? I believe she does them all by hand."

"I didn't know you were there," I said.

"I felt I might be needed. Your cousin was murdered, Minda. This is not a game we're playing, and you're going to have to be more careful. You humans think you're invincible, and I can only do so much!"

Her cheeks were bright pink, and a silken strand of hair fell over her forehead. Augusta shoved it out of the way and marched ahead of me. I had never seen her so annoyed.

When I heard a car coming, I darted into a clump of trees and underbrush, snagging my already-ruined clothing and scratching my cheek on briers, but I didn't recognize the car or the driver, and it passed without incident.

Maureen must have heard me limping up her drive, because she came outside to meet me. "Minda, my goodness, what happened? Is anything wrong?"

It was, and I told her.

"I need to use your telephone to call the police," I said. I hadn't thought to bring my cell phone along.

Maureen had cleaned my cuts and abrasions and brewed another pot of tea by the time the police arrived, and I was glad for the tea and the sympathy. Augusta is long on tea, but she's sometimes short on the other.

This time Chief McBride himself showed up, and I led him to where my bike had skidded into a signpost by the side of the road. "I jumped when I saw the rope across the road," I said, standing well back from the edge of the ravine, "and if I hadn't grabbed a root, I'd have gone right over."

He knelt to examine the broken sapling, the warped front wheel of my bike. "Now, where was this rope?" he asked.

"Just ahead, tied to that tree on the right."

But of course, it was no longer there. "It went all the way across the road and into those trees on the other side!" I looked all around the tree, tramped about the ground, and then checked out the ditch on the opposite side. "It was right here! Somebody must have come back and taken it while I was at Maureen's."

Chief McBride shook his head. "Something spooked you for sure. Heck, you're doggone lucky to walk away with scrapes and scratches!" He lifted what was left of my bike into the trunk of his cruiser and leaned against the side of the car. "Do you know of anybody who would want to harm you?"

"Not really," I said, "but my cousin Otto probably didn't know of anybody who wanted to harm him, either." My knee stung like crazy, my head ached, and I still felt a little dazed. "Somebody strung a rope across that road and it was less than a foot from my face." I pointed to the wooded area across from us. "It looks like there's some kind of trail back in there that would be wide enough for a car."

The chief shook his head and frowned; then he opened the passenger door and bowed me into the front seat. (I was glad I didn't have to sit caged in the rear!) He was still frowning when he spoke to his nephew over the radio. "Rusty, better get out here," he said. "Meet me at the water tower soon as you can. Something's been going on up here, and we need to check it out. And hurry. I've a young lady here who might want Doc Ivey to take a look at this bump on her head."

But the two men found nothing when they investigated what looked like the remains of an old logging road a short time later. "Ground's too hard and dry for car tracks," the chief said, "but it does look like somebody might have been in there recently. I found a limb broken off and the grass has been trampled. Did you notice any cars?"

I started to shake my head, and then remembered the two cars that had passed me earlier.

"Don't suppose you'd remember a license number?" he asked.

"No, but one of them was a beige Honda—an Accord, I think."
Just like the one that belonged to Flora Dennis's grand daughter, Peggy O'Connor!

"Would many people know this was here?" I asked his nephew, who volunteered to drive me back to town.

"Oh, sure. Not many who wouldn't. I used to hike up here all the time with the Boy Scouts. Kids still play up here some." He grinned. "It's just far enough from town so your mama doesn't know what you're up to."

"Surely you don't think this might've been some kind of prank?"

His smile vanished. "No, I don't. Besides, this is a school day—but I'll check the attendance records just to be sure the absent ones are accounted for.

"Did anybody know you were riding up here today?"

"No, not that I know of. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing," I said.

"Then somebody must have followed you. Any idea why?"

"I think it has something to do with Otto's death," I said. "I think he knew something."

He frowned at me as we waited for the light to change. "About what?"

"I'm not sure, but I'd like to find out." I came close then to telling him about finding the pin in the ladies' room at Minerva Academy, but Augusta had warned me not to mention it. To anybody, she said.

"Looks like somebody thinks you might know something, too," Rusty Echols said. "I wouldn't go on any more bike rides if I were you—at least until we find out what's going on."

At the chief's insistence, I let Rusty Echols drop me by the local clinic and was relieved to learn Chief McBride had called ahead and asked them to take me right away. The young doctor who saw me was the same one who had admitted Mildred the week before, and it surprised me when he asked how she was. Doctors see so many patients now, I can't imagine how they keep track of them all.

I was a little reluctant to tell him we didn't know where Mildred was. "She said she was going to visit a friend," I explained, "but we found out later her friend knew nothing about it. Now we're trying to learn where she went." I told him about the taxi driver delivering Mildred to the bus station in Rock Hill. "I'm afraid we've sort of run into a brick wall," I said.

He must have thought our family needed to be kept in a locked, padded room, but he didn't say anything except to tell me to look at a spot on the wall while he shined a light in my eyes. His eyes, I noticed, were kind of a grayish green.

Doc Ivey (whose first name was Harrison, I learned from his tag), said he thought Mildred was a sly one, and that I might have a mild concussion; then he tended my cuts with antiseptic and adhesive bandages.

"Do you have anybody to drive you home?" he asked.

I lied and said yes. The last thing I wanted was to have Vesta or Gatlin fussing over me. Wilbur Dobbins's taxi service would have to do.

"Go home then, and take it easy. No driving today. Will there be anyone with you tonight?"

I nodded. "My grandmother."

"Good. Have her wake you a couple of times during the night." He gave me a brief pat on the shoulder as he started to leave.

"And, Minda?" He hesitated at the door of the examining room.

"Yes?"

"How about giving me a call tomorrow? I'd like to know how you are… and your friend Mildred, too, of course." Why in the world did I tell that doctor Vesta would be staying with me? I asked myself as Wilbur drove me home.

I knew the answer, although I didn't like to admit it, even to myself. I wanted Harrison Ivey to know I was single! and did he ask everyone to call him after a bump on the head? I'd like to think he didn't.

Wilbur was still chatting away when we pulled into the driveway. "… and I told your grandmama if she planted them rhododemdrams too close to the house, they'd block out all thesun… and sure enough, I'll bet it's dark as a dungeon in that front room! My wife's the same way—won't listen to nobody. I said, 'Mae Lynn, if you knew just one fourth as much as you thought you did, you'd be a dad-blamed millionaire!'"

If Mae Lynn had a fraction of a brain, she wouldn't have married Wilbur, I thought as I dug in my pocket for bills. The man talked as if he were announcing a wrestling match, and my head rang with his hollering. All I wanted just then was to run inside and bolt the door behind me.

Chief McBride had left my bicycle with the bent front wheel propped against the garage, and I maneuvered it inside before going into the house. Rusty Echols had told me about a bike shop in Charlotte that might be able to repair it. Maybe I would be able to get an estimate when I drove over to speak with Mamie Estes.

Mamie Estes
! I had completely forgotten about my scheduled visit with the last living member of the Mystic Six! I'd phoned that morning to ask if it would be convenient to drop by, and Tess, her daughter-in-law, said they would expect me around two.

It was after one when I stepped inside and glanced at the kitchen clock, and the doctor had advised me not to drive. Besides, I was too shaky right now to venture anywhere— with or without a lick on the head. At least I would have a chance to telephone my excuses and beg off until another day.

"I'm so glad you called! I've been trying to reach you," Tess said when I phoned. "I'm afraid Mamie's a bit under the weather today, and it doesn't take much to tire her."

"I hope it's nothing serious," I said. (How can anything
not
be serious when you're a hundred and two?)

"A little cold, I expect. Why don't you give us a call tomorrow and we'll see? I told her you were coming, and I know she'd like to see you."

I promised to phone in the morning, hoping Mamie wouldn't take a turn for the worse and join the other five Mystics before I could talk with her. "Just my luck!" I muttered, heading for the living room sofa.

"What's just your luck?" Augusta wanted to know.

I told her about Mamie Estes being under the weather. "I'm afraid if I wait much longer, she might be under the ground," I said.

"Then I'd think that would be her misfortune, not yours," Augusta said in her calm, matter-of-fact voice.

Her inflection was less than angelic, I thought. "You're right, of course. As usual. It was a callous thing to say, but my head hurts and I feel rotten. I'm scared to death, Augusta! I don't get almost tossed over a cliff just every day, you know, and I'd just as soon not get used to it. I don't know why you're so annoyed with me," I said. "After all, you were the one who encouraged me to visit Maureen Foster. In fact, you insisted on it."

"That's correct, and I share the blame, Arminda. I should have been more careful, but so should you. I didn't realize you'd be riding a bicycle! Don't you see how vulnerable that makes you?" She plopped a pillow at one end of the sofa and plumped it up, indicating that I was to rest there. A shadow of a frown crossed her brow. "I'm afraid I didn't grasp the seriousness of the situation. I thought we had more time."

"More time for what?" I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. The pillow was smooth and cool, and so were Augusta's fingers when she touched my forehead.