Southern Comfort (22 page)

She grabbed her cell phone off the coffee table and punched through the directory until she found his name. She hit the little phone icon and waited for him to answer.

“Davenport.” Not exactly the way she expected him to answer the phone, but he was a busy man. He probably hadn’t checked the caller ID to know that it was her. Easy mistake to make.

“Gerald? It’s Natalie.”

His voice turned immediately soft and dreamy. “Natalie, so good to hear from you.”

Natalie smiled even though she knew he couldn’t see her. This was what she needed. Just some time with the man she was soon to marry. “I’ve missed you.”

“I know, darling, it’s been so hectic lately, but I promise things are going to slow down soon. Just wait and see.”

“I know.” Natalie played with the hem of Aubie’s jeans. She should’ve changed right when she got home. But she was already wearing the clothes so she kept them on for now.

“Is there a reason for this call, Natalie?”

She stirred, sitting up a little straighter in her seat. “Oh, yes. Of course. See, I was thinking that maybe the two of us should get together tonight.”

“Tonight? Is there a charity dinner or something going on that I forgot to put in my calendar?” Had his voice turned urgent and just a little on the distracted side, or was she making things up?

“No dinner, I just thought maybe the two of us could get together and watch a movie.” They had never simply sat in her apartment and watched a movie, spent time together, just the two of them. It seemed that they were always rushing around trying to help other people. Maybe it was time they helped themselves and their relationship get just a little bit closer.

“As much as that sounds like a great time, it’s just not possible tonight, Natalie.”

Papers rustled on his end of the line. Was he working on a Sunday afternoon? He was so dedicated to his job.

“Are you sure? I mean we hardly ever see each other anymore.”

“I know it’s been hard, but you have to trust me. It will all be worth it in the end.”

“Of course,” Natalie said. “I’m sure.” She had no doubts that Gerald was working hard. She had no doubts that he would do anything in his power to spend the evening with her if he could. Tonight just wasn’t a good night. She understood that. She would be the understanding girlfriend, which would turn into the understanding fiancée, which would eventually turn into the understanding wife. It was a role that she knew how to play well. “Any word on getting Aunt Bitty’s house listed in the historical registry?”

She practically heard him shake his head. “No, they won’t hear anything about it. I’ve been trying to convince them that historic means history, and Confederate is something completely different, but it seems the house has a few questionable attributes connected with it.”

“Like what?” Why was he just telling her this now?

“Well, there’s the matter of the fact that it was built by a Yankee sympathizer in the middle of the South. And then the rumors said the family helped slaves escape on the Underground Railroad.”

“I would think that would make it all the more valuable,” Natalie said. She didn’t know a lot about history but it went both ways didn’t it?

“You have a bunch of conservative old gentleman on this board, Natalie. You have to understand that. They don’t turn loose of their traditions easily. And though we all know how wrong slavery was and is, a lot of these men lost their family fortune in the war. Bitterness runs deep when it comes to money.”

“I suppose.” But her aunt’s house deserved to be on the historical registry. It just wasn’t fair that her aunt’s house seemed forgotten when so many around hers bore plaques of what role they had played in the war.

“Is that all?” he asked. “I really have some things that need to be done by this evening.” She could almost see him check his watch across the phone line. She’d seen him do it so many times. The action was embedded in her brain like the blink of his eye or the gesture of his hand.

“Of course,” she murmured. She wanted to say that she loved him before she said goodbye but the words stuck in her throat. “See you later then.” She turned off the phone without waiting for his response.

• • •

Newland didn’t know where the tunnel let out. But he had an idea. He jumped the back fence into the cemetery and started poking around. It seemed only natural that it let out somewhere around here. What better place than an abandoned cemetery where no one came any longer?

He walked past the graves, careful not to step in any of the sunken holes created there. It all seemed so terribly obvious now. Underground tunnel filled with moonshine and a Confederate ghost where no confederates were buried. It was like some bad Scooby Doo afternoon special.

Newland still couldn’t figure out how Gilbert and Darrell played into the whole thing. Neither one of them were smart enough to concoct a ghost out of thin air or run a moonshine operation as big as Newland was beginning to suspect this one was. He couldn’t see very far down into the tunnel, but he had seen down far enough to know that there were more crates stacked along the wall. And if there were crates stacked four high all the way to the opening … He shook his head. That was a lot of hooch.

He made his way over to the mound of dirt, knowing he wouldn’t find anything in the daylight. But he wanted to see if it had been messed with, if it was bigger than it had been before, or if maybe the dirt had been added to or taken away from anything to signify there had been some change in the status quo since the last time he had been there. But it all appeared the same. Black tarp covering half of it, three sides pinned down allowing the fourth one to flop around. For a moment he wondered if maybe that oversight wasn’t an oversight at all. What if it was just one more factor that set up a ghost in this abandoned cemetery?

He needed to get back to Aunt Bitty’s house and find out exactly where she had seen the ghost. He had just assumed it had been over in this direction, though he had no idea why. The cemetery wasn’t huge, but it was big enough, and it was important to know where the ghost had been seen. For some reason he had a feeling that would tell a lot.

“Newman, right?”

He turned as Jack Russell, the man from the bar, came striding through the cemetery toward him. The man seemed none the worse for wear after their evening together, but Newland had a feeling that Jack drank moonshine more frequently than he did.

“Actually, it’s Newland. Good to see you again.” He stuck out a hand to shake.

Jack took it with a smile. “Still looking for Bitty’s ghost?”

“Yeah, I am. Have you seen anything out here lately?”

Jack shook his head. “I told you the ghost only comes the last Thursday of the month.”

“So Bitty says as well,” Newland murmured. He looked around as if he was expecting to see some old-fashioned projector set up somewhere, but there was nothing but rows of overgrown graves all the way to the edge of the iron fence. “And you say you don’t see anything else on these nights?” That seemed to be the only reason for a ghost he could think of. Well, at least a ghost that only showed up one night a month. It had to be some sort of distraction. Take people’s focus from one place and turn it to another. He was certain they probably could move an elephant out of there as long as there was a ghost on the other side of the cemetery away from it.

“I ain’t seen nothing.”

“If you do … ” Newland started.

Jack nodded. “Of course. I’ll go find you at Bitty’s house.”

Newland nodded. He had a feeling he would never see Jack standing on Bitty’s front porch, but it was good to know that the man was at least watching for something odd to happen. With Jack watching the front of the house and Newland watching the back, surely any nefarious undertakings would be apparently obvious.

“I meant what I said,” Jack started. “Bitty Duncan’s a nice old lady, and I would hate to think that someone was taking advantage of her. Or maybe putting her in danger.”

“You think she’s in danger?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. But something weird is going on here, and people seem to be investigating left and right. Soon as somebody hits on the truth … ” He trailed off and shook his head. “It may be a small town, but there’s some big money around here. I’m sure no one wants you to be messing with it.”

The words stayed with Newland all the way back to the house. He took the long way around, walking down the block, checking the cemetery from all angles as if somehow that would give him a clue as to what was happening there. He also looked for places for the tunnel to let out which seemed almost ridiculous. The tunnel could let out halfway across town and he would never know it.

He let himself in the front door, and was immediately greeted by Mr. Piddles. The big feline seemed to have taken a liking to him. Newland picked him up and scratched him behind the ears as a low grumble came from deep inside the cat. He had never had a cat before, never even had a pet before. All this was new to him. But he decided that he liked having the creature like him. Somehow it made him feel that he wasn’t all bad if the kitty cat could want his attention.

What if he got a cat when he went back to Chicago?

Why? So he could leave it for days on end as he went searching for the next big story that would get him back into the game?

He gave the kitty one last scratch, kissed the top of his head, and set him on the divan in the parlor. Bitty was there working the crossword puzzle but looked up and smiled as he walked in.

“Where is everybody?” He really meant Aubie. Natalie had gone to her house to do laundry. Though he felt it was just an excuse to get away from him.

Bitty pushed her glasses a little further down her nose, to better see the paper he supposed. “Aubie’s up in his room. He said he had some issues to look over. They still haven’t decided exactly what to do about the school uniforms.”

“The school uniforms?” Newland asked. He settled down into the chair opposite her not surprised at all when Mr. Piddles jumped into his lap demanding more attention.

“Oh, not uniforms for school, but uniforms for the players and things. You know the basketball team and the cheerleaders. If they take the black off the uniforms then they’ll need all new ones.”

That would take a lot of money. Newland had no idea how much, but it seemed as if the Duncan-Coleman clan had more than enough of that. He was a little surprised that control freak Natalie didn’t just donate what they needed to the school and be done with it.

“What are they going to do?”

“Aubie’s looking at fundraiser ideas. But I don’t see how selling candy bars is going to take care of this one.” She picked up her paper again and started back with the crossword puzzle.

“I suppose not,” Newland said. He wasn’t sure exactly how many people were in Turtle Creek, or for that matter how many kids attended Turtle Creek schools. But he knew one thing: all new uniforms for every extracurricular activity would need quite a bit of money and the whole community to pitch in and help. He stood and deposited Mr. Piddles in the chair he’d just vacated.

“Where are you going?” Bitty asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Newland said and started for the stairs. He knocked lightly on Aubie’s door and opened up the summons. “I hear you’re looking for a fundraiser idea?”

The teen mayor pushed the papers on his bed aside and nodded. “Yeah, we need to raise money for new uniforms for the high school teams and the band, cheerleaders … ”

“That’s what Bitty said. I’ve got an idea about that,” Newland said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Just hear me out, okay? It may sound a little strange at first but …. Just hear me out.”

“Okay.” Aubie gave him a nod and a strange look then sat back as if prepared to listen to what Newland had to say. The boy might be scatterbrained at times and a little irresponsible when it came to day-to-day matters of hygiene and homework, but he seemed to genuinely care about the community. He might be as eccentric as the rest of his family, but he seemed to know when to listen.

“A benefit auction.” He said the word on a gush of air, then went on to explain. “The Amish do it all the time. Members of the community donate items they don’t want anymore to the auction. The community itself comes in and bids on these items. You can invite people from other communities to come in and bid or even donate.”

“I see. Go on.”

“People donate all sorts of items. Everything from pies to quilts to farm equipment, farm animals. Anything you can imagine can go up for sale and every penny that’s earned goes to the cause. It’s simple really, and it won’t take much to organize and get together.”

“This works for them?” Aubie asked, clearly intrigued with the idea.

Newland nodded. “They hold enough of them that it must. They even have a big one that benefits Haiti every year. Several communities hold those auctions. But this could just be one to raise money for the school teams to get new uniforms and get that black out of the school colors.”

Aubie nodded. “It does sort of look drab. I think it brings down morale. We’re not the biggest school out there nor are we the best, but I think we would certainly play better if we had a little pride in our mascot.”

“About that—” Newland started.

Aubie laughed. “Don’t ask. I’ve already tried. And everybody likes the Snappers. But if we can make them green and yellow instead of black maybe we could win a game come the new season.”

Newland smiled. “That alone would be worth holding an auction for.”

Aubie nodded and Newland started from the room. He put one hand on the knob to leave when the teen spoke again. “Newland? Thanks. That was a great idea. I’ll put it to the town at the next meeting.”

Newland nodded. “Glad to help.” He stepped out into the hallway to find Natalie there. He quietly shut the door behind him and waited for her to speak.

“Why did you do that?” she asked. Her voice sounded strained.

“Because it’s a good idea?”

Natalie shook her head. “Why do you care about this town? You’re leaving in just a few more days.”

The thought made his heart give a funny pound in his chest. He was leaving in a few days, going back to Chicago, a place where he understood how things worked. But he would miss this tiny town with its weird school mascot and drab school colors, with tiny bars that served contraband moonshine and a sheriff who was the number one customer for the biggest bootlegger in the county.