The Christmas Cantata (The Liturgical Mysteries) (11 page)

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The next morning, I drove to the station early, and stopped by the Piggly Wiggly to pick up a box of donuts. Amelia Godshaw was the only checkout girl on duty, even though characterizing her as a "girl" was to overstate her status by about sixty years. Roger Beeson, the manager, was tucked away in his "office," a raised twelve-by-twelve, half-walled cubicle containing a desk, a safe, and a couple of chairs, from which he could survey his domain. Amelia was not known as a "people person," and was most probably packing heat under her checkout counter. It didn't do to irritate Amelia, and Roger might have gotten rid of her except that, for some reason, he couldn't keep any help at the Pig for more than a month or two. Amelia and her friends, Hannah and Grace, were the only employees that he could count on not to rob him blind and to show up for their shifts. There was also a stock-boy named Clem, but no one had ever heard him speak.

I was in line at Amelia's checkout counter. In front of me was a woman I didn't know and in front of her was Elaine Hixon. The woman in front of me looked irritated, tapping a bottle of mouthwash angrily on the conveyor belt. Elaine had half a cartful of groceries and was a few items into her checkout routine.

"I'm having a party this evening," Elaine said to Amelia. "A Christmas party."

"Goody for you," grumped Amelia. She rang up a cheese ball from the deli Christmas end-cap, on sale for $3.95.

"Could we hurry it up?" said the next-in-line woman.

"I'm going as fast as I can," said Amelia. "You wanna do it?"

"Amelia," said Elaine, "are you having your hair done at the Beautifery? It just looks lovely."

Amelia blinked, blinked again, and then smiled. "Well, yes I am," she said. "Noylene's got a new girl. We're trying a reddish blonde with a lemon rinse." She lowered her voice. "She also told me that new opportunities are just around the corner."

"How exciting," Elaine said to Amelia. She spotted me in the back of the line. "Hayden! Good morning!"

"Morning," I said, giving her a wave with my free hand.

"Listen," said the woman, "I've got an appointment in town and I'm already late."

"Who are you meeting?" asked Elaine.

"None of your business!" snapped the woman.

"I only ask," said Elaine, as she pointed to the plate glass windows that comprised the front of the store, "because I think your car slid down the hill and into that ditch."

The woman screamed, dropped her mouthwash, and stared at her car, the front end of which, as Elaine had described, was pointing, headlights down, into the drainage ditch in front of the Piggly Wiggly.

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "How?...What?..."

"You probably just parked on a patch of ice," said Elaine. "Don't worry. Billy's right around the corner with his Bobcat scraping another parking lot. I'll give him a call." She flipped open her phone, punched a button, and a minute later, dropped her phone back into her purse.

"He's on his way. He's got a chain. You'll be out in three shakes."

"How much is this going to cost me?" said the woman, resignation and disgust evident in her voice.

"Why, nothing, dear," said Elaine. "Don't be silly. It's Christmas, after all."

The woman's mouth dropped open. Then, a moment later, she said, "Thank you. Sorry I snapped at you before."

"Oh," said Elaine, waving a hand absently in her direction. "It's nothing."

The woman turned to Amelia. "And I'm sorry I was cross with you." She searched for a compliment. "You're doing a great job there...ringing things up. You're the best grocery checker I've seen in a long while, I can tell you."

"Well..." said Amelia, smiling just a little.

"I'm just on edge," said the woman. "I'm new in town and I'm supposed to meet the president of the library council at eight. Now I'm going to be late. I'm a caterer and I'm trying to get the library patrons' Christmas party job."

"Louise?" said Amelia. "You're meeting Louise Harrison?"

"Why...yes."

"Pfft," said Amelia. "She's my next door neighbor. We're thick as thieves. Lemme give her a call." Amelia grabbed a phone from under the counter and quickly dialed a number from memory. "Louise? This is Amelia. Yeah...just fine. You know that caterer you're supposed to meet with?" Amelia put her hand over the mouthpiece and looked at the woman. "Jacki?" she asked. The woman nodded.

"Well, she's just gonna be a tad late. We've had a little accident down at the Pig. No problem? Great!"

The woman beamed.

"And Louise," said Amelia, "you just might as well go on and hire her. She's a real sweet person and she can cook like nobody's business. Yep...I'll tell her and she'll be there as soon as Billy gets her car out of the ditch."

Amelia clicked the phone off and put it down beside the register.

"No rush," said Amelia with a big smile. "She can't wait to meet you."

"I...I don't know what to say," said Jacki.

"Oh, here's Billy," said Elaine, looking out the window. The other ladies followed her gaze and saw Billy's mini-dozer making its way across the parking lot toward Jacki's car.

"Did I hear that you're having a party tonight?" Jacki asked Elaine.

"Yes, I am," said Elaine.

"I have some cakes in the back seat that I'm going to show to Mrs. Harrison. But after that, may I drop them by your house for your party? No charge." She put a finger to her lips and looked concerned. "That is, if they're still all right."

"Aren't you sweet," said Elaine, with a big smile. "I'll bet they're just fine. Your car was hardly moving and barely bumped into that ditch."

Jacki nodded. "I hope so."

"Thank you," said Elaine. "Having those cakes would save me a good deal of time and I have a choir rehearsal before the party. Here, let me give you my address."

"Do you have some cards?" asked Amelia. "I can put them here by the register. We always have people asking for caterers. Especially during the holidays."

"You bet!" said Jacki. She dug around in her purse and came up with a handful of business cards which she handed to Amelia. Then she turned to Elaine. "What's the tune you're humming? It's beautiful."

"Just something we're singing for the Christmas Eve service at St. Barnabas. You should come."

"I will," said Jacki. "I certainly will."

Jacki, having checked on her cakes and satisfying herself as to their viability, was standing outside chattering with Elaine as Billy hooked the Bobcat to the rear axle, then pulled the car up and out of the ditch.

I paid for my donuts and walked by Roger's cubicle on my way out. He was peering over the top of his half-wall and had viewed the entire episode.

"What just happened?" he said.

I smiled and shrugged and went out the front door to my truck.

And that's how it started.

Chapter 9

"What am I doing here?" I asked, looking around the lobby. "I don't even like this woman."

"Just go in with me," said Pete. "It isn't going to kill you, and besides, I hate going into nursing homes by myself."

The Sunridge Assisted Living facility is located between Blowing Rock and St. Germaine. It's not a top of the line nursing home, but it's okay. The gathering area smelled vaguely of rubbing alcohol, camphor, menthol, and other odors best not ruminated over. There were a number of residents gathered in the room: some around tables, playing cards, dominos, or working puzzles; a few gathered in front of a TV watching CNN; two or three sitting by themselves, either reading, or, in the case of Bessie Baker, scooted up in front of an old spinet piano in her wheelchair.

She was playing slowly and deliberately. A Chopin piece I recognized as
Fantaisie-Impromptu
, easily identifiable by its memorable melody purloined for a popular tune,
I'm Always Chasing Rainbows.
Pauli Girl McCollough was standing behind the piano, listening, her elbows resting on the lid. She waved to us as we came in.

Pete and I walked to the piano and stood politely while she finished the piece. Pete applauded. Bessie glowered at him from beneath unplucked, heavy white eyebrows.

"What do you two want?" she said.

Bessie Baker was small, smaller than I remembered, but then again, I hadn't seen her for fifteen years or so. Her hair was snow white and still thick, although now cut very short. The last time I'd seen her, her hair had been in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her bright blue eyes were clear, but her color wasn't good. Her mouth was nothing more than a slit, turned down at both ends.

"Hi, Miss Baker," said Pete. "I just came over to visit for a bit. You might not remember me..."

"I remember you perfectly well, Mr. Moss," she said in a dry voice. "I assumed you'd be in prison by this time."

"Nah," said Pete. "They couldn't prove anything."

If Miss Baker got the joke, she didn't let on.

I stuck out my hand. "You remember me as well?" I said. "I wasn't one of your students..."

"I know you, Hayden Konig." She ignored my outstretched hand. "What are you two doing here?"

"Pete came to visit, Miss Bessie," said Pauli Girl. "He was telling us down at the café about what a great English teacher you were. I invited him up to say hello."

"And I brought Hayden," Pete said.

"Well, hello and goodbye," said Bessie. She turned back to the piano and began playing another piece. Beethoven I thought, but it was difficult to tell.

Pauli Girl gave us the stink-eye and motioned for us to continue the conversation, such as it was.

"You know, Miss Baker," said Pete, fishing for words, "you were probably the best teacher I ever had."

Bessie stopped playing and glared at him. "How the devil would you know? You were asleep in the back row for the entire year. What are you doing here? Really?"

"It was my idea," I fibbed. "I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions."

Bessie's eyes narrowed.

"I wonder if you were in St. Germaine in 1942? Christmas Eve to be exact?"

Her expression turned to a glare.

"I know that you're a long-time member of St. Barnabas, but, as you know, the church burned a few years ago, and all the records were lost. I don't exactly know when you joined the church, but Wynette thinks it might have been around that time." Okay, a small white lie, but in my defense, I'm a cop. I'm used to interrogating suspects. I paused for a moment, hoping Bessie would offer some information, but she didn't. "Did you happen to sing with the choir?" I ventured.