The Widows of Braxton County (17 page)

“You
can’t
,” Kate cried into the phone, but her grandmother had ended the call.

Chapter 27

Fall 2012, the Clement family farm

T
he next morning, Kate braced her hands against the bathroom counter and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were swollen and her hair hung in clumps. She should take a shower, but she didn’t have the energy. She had to see Trudy today and also steel her nerves in preparation for her grandmother’s visit. Hanging her head, she took a deep breath. The idea of the two of them in the same room boggled her mind.

An hour later she was dressed and, with Rose along, pulling into the driveway at the farm. Agnes Forsyth greeted them at the door with a sour expression.

“How’s Trudy?” Kate asked as Agnes stood aside and let them enter.

“Not well,” she replied with a haughty look toward Rose. “I wanted to take her in to see Doc Adams, but she refused.”

“Is she awake?”

“Yes, can’t you hear the TV in her room?” Agnes answered with a sniff as she turned and led them back to the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re going to do. She can’t be left alone and I need to get home. Albert missed his supper last night because I wasn’t there.”

Kate heard Rose mutter something from behind her that sounded like, “Maybe Albert should learn how to use a stove.” She shot Rose a look over her shoulder and shook her head.

Once in the kitchen, Rose smiled sweetly at Agnes. “I’ll stay here and help Agnes.”

Rolling her eyes, Kate went out the back door and found Trudy sitting in an old rocking chair. She was dressed much the same way she’d been the first day Kate had met her—in an old housedress and stockings rolled to her knees—but her skin looked blanched and her hair straggled around her face. Slowly, she turned her head; eyes that were once sharp and assessing were now dull and empty.

“Trudy?” Kate said as she knelt in front of her.

“My son’s dead,” she said in a flat voice.

“I know.”

“Parents aren’t supposed to bury their children,” she continued, her gaze traveling over Kate’s head and toward the apple orchard. “The farm was the only thing that mattered until he met you.” Her attention returned to Kate and anger flashed in her eyes. “It’s your fault. You brought the curse down on us.”

“Trudy, you’re not well. I think we should let Doc Adams take a look at you.”

Her lips twisted in a bitter line. “No. You want to get rid of me.” She wagged a bony finger in Kate’s face. “You were going to make Joe send me away.”

“Trudy—”

“Only Joe was the one who went away,” she cried and clutched at the front of her dress. “I’ve lost my son and now I’m going to lose my home.”

Kate sighed and bowed her head. She’d never seen a person so distraught. Raising her head, she looked at Trudy, and the woman seemed to shrink before her eyes.

“I’m tired now. I want to go lie down,” she said, hoisting her body out of the rocking chair. “Will you take me back to my room?”

Kate gently took Trudy’s arm and began to guide her across the porch. Trudy abruptly slid to a stop.

“They’re all gone now,” she whispered, “all of Joseph’s sons. But the land’s still here and so is she. Be careful, girl, that you’re not the next.”

She tugged away and shuffled into the house, leaving Kate bewildered. By the time Kate followed, Trudy had disappeared into her bedroom.

Rose handed her a cup of coffee. “How did it go?”

“Badly,” Kate answered with a shake of her head. “She’s really confused. I wonder if she hasn’t had a minor stroke.” Kate looked over at Agnes. “What do you think? How did she act last night?”

“She spent most of the evening in her bedroom while I was on the phone with Albert.”

“Why? Was Albert having problems finding the bathroom?” Rose asked in a snarky voice.

“Rose—please,” Kate said. “I’m going to call Doc.”

A few minutes later, Kate returned. “Doc wants us to take her in to the emergency room. He said someone should have called him last night.”

Rose looked pointedly at Agnes, who in return glared at Rose.

Agnes then switched her attention to Kate. “I’ll have you know I barely slept last night,” she said with a lift of her chin. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s been a murder here. How did I know they wouldn’t come back and kill us in our beds?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Kate replied coldly, “but I hardly think you were in any danger.”

“You don’t know. There could be a crazed homeless person out there right now, waiting to strike again,” she said, waving an arm toward the window.

Rose rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen a homeless person in Dutton since Vivian Patton threw Wally out after one too many trips to the Silver Goose. They found him sleeping it off on the park bench.”

Agnes ignored Rose. “What about drug dealers? We don’t know. Maybe Joe wound up mixed up with them. Everyone knows he had money—”

“Agnes Forsyth,” Rose said, cutting her off, “I always knew you were an idiot, but—”

Agnes shoved her hands on her hips. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone saw it as an easy way out of their problems.”

“Of all the callous things to say,” Rose exclaimed. “Kate—”

Kate held up a hand, stopping her. “I’ll take it from here,” she said, turning on Agnes. “You’re supposed to be Trudy’s friend and you’re trashing her son’s memory by spreading rumors about him?”

“I’m not spreading rumors. They’re going around like wildfire,” Agnes huffed.

Kate gave her a steely glare. “And instead of putting the fire out, I bet you’re fanning the flames.” Kate walked over and picked up a purse and a bag sitting by the back door. She held them out to Agnes. “You know, I’ll take over from here. Thanks for your help.”

Kate and Rose remained silent as Agnes stomped out of the room and didn’t speak until they heard her car go down the drive.

Rose arched an eyebrow. “Well, at least you didn’t say, ‘Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.’ ”

Kate leaned against the counter and exhaled slowly. “I didn’t handle that well.”

“You sure did.”

“No, it’s going to be all over town that I kicked her out.”

Rose gave her a sneaky grin. “I’ve lived around here longer than Agnes, and I know how to play the gossip game. A few well-chosen words in the right ears and everyone’s going to be talking about her. Most people don’t take kindly to a person insulting a recently bereaved family. Not speaking ill of the dead still means something in these parts.”

They managed to convince Trudy to go the emergency room, where Doc Adams met up with them. The fact that Trudy hadn’t shot daggers at Rose on the way to the hospital only proved to Kate how confused she was.

As Kate sat waiting, her foot tapped a nervous rhythm on the polished floor. Rose touched her knee, quieting her.

“It’s okay, Kate.”

“I don’t like being here.”

“Too soon after Joe?”

She nodded and covered her face with her hands. “How am I going to get through this, Rose?”

“You just do,” she said putting an arm around Kate’s shoulders. “I’m not saying it’s easy, and you’re going to feel like you’ve shoveled a lot of crap before it’s done. But you’ll get through.”

Kate dropped her hands. “I’m not good at dealing with difficult situations.”

“Who said?”

“My grandmother,” Kate answered wryly. “She said I was helpless and hopeless.”

“Why?”

Kate shrugged. “I suppose it had something to do with the way I acted when my mother died.” She looked at a spot near the ceiling. “After Mom died, we were cleaning out the house we’d lived in and Gran was tossing everything she didn’t think she could sell at a garage sale, including the bear I’d had since I was a toddler.” Her gaze traveled back to Rose. “I pitched such a fit, she let me keep it. She said I cried more over that bear than I did my mother.”

“I imagine the bear represented security,” Rose responded quietly.

“Yeah, I guess. It was something I had left from my life with my mother.” Kate frowned. “When Mom died, I went all numb inside . . . just like I am now.”

“It’s shock, my dear.”

“I know, but back then Gran said my reaction was unnatural.”

“I thought you were learning to ignore what your grandmother said.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard to overcome years of conditioning. It wasn’t just the way I acted when Mom died. No matter what I did for Gran, it was always wrong.”

Rose gave an indignant snort. “In her opinion. I bet she never complained when you made sure the utility bills were paid, did she?”

Kate’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “No.”

“I thought not. No offense intended, but the woman’s a fool—telling a teenager who’d just lost her mother that she’s unnatural.” Rose huffed. “Since I’ve known you, I’ve seen you make some hard decisions. Decisions that took courage.”

“I’m not courageous.”

“Yes, you are. You could have shut up. Let Trudy and Joe run your life, but you didn’t.”

Grief wrung her heart. “Maybe if I had, Joe wouldn’t have died.”

Rose grasped her arm and gave it a shake. “You wipe that thought out of your mind right now,” she scolded. “We don’t know what happened. That’s for the sheriff to figure out.”

“Two murders have happened on this farm,” Kate said in a low voice. “Do you think Trudy’s right? That history does repeat itself?”

Rose looked at Kate, her expression deadly serious. “I hope not.”

Trudy’s diagnosis was a transient ischemic attack or mini stroke to the right hemisphere of her brain. Short-term memory loss, paranoia, and changes in Trudy’s behavior could be expected, but would eventually dissipate. Doc had assured Rose and Kate that it wasn’t as severe as a major stroke, but her attack might indicate one in her future. It was important that Trudy change her lifestyle—more exercise, less fat in her diet—and start taking a low dose of aspirin daily.

Once back at the farm, Trudy retired to her room while a steady stream of neighbors showed up bearing casseroles and Jell-O salads. Kate accepted their condolences and pretended to be brave. Many were sincere in their sympathy, but she caught the whispers and stares of others. Those so-called friends had come to ferret out the latest story and report it back to the gossip mill. Rose picked up on her growing tension and sent her outside.

Walking toward the apple orchard, Kate concentrated on relaxing the tight muscles in her shoulders and taking deep cleansing breaths. She stopped and leaned against one of the old trees as she replayed the afternoon of Joe’s death in her mind.

She thought about the envelope addressed to Ed Rodman. Should she have told Detective Shepherd about it? Then she remembered looking out the window during the storm and the figure she’d seen standing beneath one of these trees. She hadn’t mentioned that either.

Tilting her head up, she looked at the branches of the old tree. It had been a long time since these trees had borne fruit. They were barren—just like her life. No husband, no children, no parents. Loneliness pressed down on her. She’d spend the rest of her life mourning what might have been. The leaves above her gently rustled, and she felt a touch on her shoulder. Startled, she whirled away from the tree.

No one was there.

Goose pimples prickled her arms. Grasping her upper arms, she rubbed at her skin, trying to make them go away. She was as bad as Trudy.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Kate faced the house in time to see Doris crossing toward her.

When she reached Kate, Doris drew her into a big hug. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured in Kate’s ear.

“Thanks,” Kate replied, stepping out of Doris’s embrace.

“Do you know what happened?”

“No—we don’t even know when Joe’s body will be released.”

“They’ll catch the person who did this,” Doris said with a firm jerk of her head. “What can I do to help you?”

“Nothing . . . just be my friend. I have so many decisions to make that I don’t know where to start. I know nothing of Joe’s farming operation. I’m sure that there are bills to be paid, loans that might be coming due. The livestock has to be cared for. And the harvest?” Kate looked at Doris in panic. “What am I going to do about that? I don’t even know how to drive a tractor, much less Joe’s combine.”

“First of all, don’t worry about the livestock. Greg McCarthy down the road has volunteered to see to that. Second—I imagine Joe’s attorney and his CPA will be contacting you about the business.” Doris took a deep breath before she continued. “And last but not least, the harvest. Let Rose help you manage that. She’s been handling her own farm for sixty years and I’m sure she’ll find a way to get your crops in.”

“It’s all so overwhelming,” Kate said with dismay.

“Quit worrying about everything all at once. Take one step at a time and you’ll get through this.”

Kate hesitated for a moment. “Do you know Ed Rodman?”

“Everyone knows Ed. Why?”

“Is he a violent person?”

Doris raised her brow. “He’s a hothead, that’s for sure.” She studied Kate. “Do you think he’s involved in Joe’s death?”

“I witnessed a fight between him and Joe. It was heated, and for a minute, I thought it might come to blows.”

“Was it about the fence line?”

“Yeah. Joe was suing him.” Kate tugged on her lip. “I think Ed might have been at the farm on the day Joe was killed. I found a letter addressed to Ed laying on Joe’s desk.”