The Widows of Braxton County (19 page)

She clutched Topaz. “I was at the office, but I was alone and can’t prove what time I left.”

“Listen—they’ve been asking questions about Ed Rodman, too. The story’s going around that he doesn’t have an alibi either.”

“Do you think he might have killed Joe?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“I’d hate to think someone I know might be a killer, but Ed does have a temper and he doesn’t like to be pushed.”

“And Joe was determined to make him move his fence.”

Will shook his head. “They might have argued and things got out of hand.” He looked at her intently. “If you do feel like you’re the focus of their investigation, maybe you should get a lawyer.”

She’d worked so hard to gain everyone’s respect and now they were beginning to turn against her. Talking about her behind her back, suspecting her of a terrible thing. The strength she’d tried to muster since Joe’s death leached out of her.

“That’s what Rose advised.” Kate looked away in dismay. “But I don’t know if it matters what happens to me.”

Will stepped toward her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Look at this, Will.” She swept an arm toward the fields that lay beyond the orchard. “Supposedly, this might be mine, but it’s only land. I’d rather have my husband.”

“I’m sure you would and I know the future seems bleak without him, but you’ll get through this.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but I don’t know if I can.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Kate,” he said harshly. “I thought you had more guts than that.”

“I don’t care what you think,” she shot back.

“Yes, you do. I’ve watched you and you care what everyone thinks . . . too much so. You’ve worked overtime trying to please everyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true,” she said, the anger showing in her voice.

“It has been. You did whatever you were told and now you’re ready to give up and let the sheriff think you killed your husband.”

“
That’s
not fair,” she exclaimed.

Will glared at her. “But it
would
be fair to go to prison for something that you didn’t do?”

“What do you want me to do? Take out an ad proclaiming my innocence?” she asked sarcastically.

“No!” he cried. “I expect you to fight back, be smart, and hire the best damn attorney you can find!”

He spun on his heel and marched away.

Holding the kitten, Kate paced back and forth underneath the apple tree. Every nerve in her body tingled as panic tore at her.
It’s too much
. Dropping to her knees, she felt as if she were breaking into a thousand little pieces and could never glue them back together.

She closed her eyes and a picture of Essie’s House and the women who’d sought refuge there flashed in her mind. Several of them had shown up with only their kids and the clothes on their backs, yet they were determined to make a new and better life for themselves.

She heard a rustling above her, and a shower of red and gold leaves spread in a blanket over and around her. A soft breeze lifted her hair as if in a silent benediction, and suddenly, she felt surrounded by a warm presence. Peace flowed through her.

Staring aimlessly at the horizon, she thought of those who were standing with her. They had faith in her, yet she persisted in believing she was weak, accepting that she was worthless.

Holding Topaz tightly to her chest, Kate scrambled to her feet.

No more. If the women at Essie’s House could fight for a new life, then so can I.

Chapter 30

Fall 2012, Braxton County, Iowa

A
nother fifteen minutes and it would be finished. Kate stared at Joe’s polished oak casket. She couldn’t believe that the waxlike figure lying inside it was Joe. The family visitation last night had been an emotional wringer, and now she sat stiffly at his graveside waiting for the minister to say his last words. The air around her was heavy with the mixed scents of all the floral memorials—and the roses on Joe’s casket. There had been an arrangement of them on her mother’s casket, too. She would never see red roses again without thinking of death.

She turned her attention to the bright sky above them. It was wrong. The heavens should be boiling with storm clouds. Nature should be as indignant as Kate was over the loss of this man.

The sound of shuffling brought Kate’s focus back as the minister bent to murmur his final words of comfort, then he moved on to Trudy, sitting next to her. She waited, dry-eyed and detached, as Joe’s neighbors and friends followed him. Finally, the last of the condolences had been expressed and it was time to return to the farm and the luncheon that Trudy’s church ladies had prepared.

When they arrived in the limousine provided by the funeral home, Agnes and two other women Kate didn’t recognize rushed the car. They hustled Trudy out, patting and cooing over her as they escorted her to the house. Agnes paused in her comforting long enough to shoot Kate a disgruntled look over her shoulder.

Kate walked past the rows of tables and chairs they’d set up in the yard, and by the time she’d reached the house, they’d propped Trudy up like a life-sized doll in an armchair in the parlor. Kate left Gran with her and proceeded to the kitchen. As she entered, ten pairs of eyes turned toward her and all chatting ceased.

She lifted her chin a notch and returned their stares. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

They resumed their bustling about the kitchen, ignoring her.

This was her house, and she was standing her ground. She cleared her throat and repeated her question. “
Do
you need help?”

One of the women separated from the group and shoved a plate of sandwiches into Kate’s hands. “Put these in the dining room.”

Kate did as she was told, and was amazed to see the amount of food the women had laid out. Sandwiches, pickles, desserts, and salads of every kind and description covered the table. At a loss for what to do, she wandered between the dining room and parlor, accepting more condolences, until she felt the crowded house pressing in on her. She fled to the back bedroom upstairs.

Kicking off her shoes, she sat on the bed and gazed around the room. With her hands dangling at her sides, she tapped one foot on the floor and wondered what to do with herself now. She hadn’t worried about filling her time during the last few days—just getting out of bed and dealing with all the arrangements had been enough of a challenge. But now, with the funeral over, she needed to do
something
. Trudy couldn’t live out here alone, and for now, out of respect for Joe’s memory, Kate had to stay.

She rose and walked to the window. Men stood over by the barn chatting. Fallen leaves covered the ground beneath the old apple trees. A few short months ago, she’d come to this place with such dreams and plans. Gone now, she thought, fingering one of the lace curtains. Bitterness began to creep into her heart, but she tamped it down. No, she’d sworn to make a new life, and maybe it wouldn’t be the one she’d planned, but it could still be worthwhile.

One thing at a time, she thought, turning away from the window and looking about the room again.

She’d always liked this room. Even with all its clutter, there was a sense of peace here that the other rooms lacked. She’d start her new life with a small step: make this room her own. And the first thing would be to clear out all these boxes.

Kate crossed the room and, as she bent to rummage through one of them, a sudden noise came from behind her, made her twirl around. One of the large boxes had tipped over.

“What are you doing hiding out up here?” Doris said, appearing in the doorway.

Kate looked from the box to Doris. “I needed a little time alone.” She gave a rueful smile. “And I was tired of the church ladies giving me dirty looks.”

Doris walked over to the books scattered across the floor. “Don’t worry about them,” she said, picking up one of the books. “If it makes you feel better, Agnes isn’t much ahead of you in popularity.” Her lips twisted in a sneer. “Somehow her unkind speculations about Joe got around. So she’s been working her butt off to get back in their good graces.”

Kate allowed herself a small smirk. “That would be thanks to Rose.”

“Hey, these are old photo albums,” Doris said as she flipped open the book in her hand.

“Let me see,” Kate said, joining her.

Doris held out the album to her and, kneeling on the floor, picked up another one.

Kate opened the album and began to carefully turn the heavy black pages. Her nose wrinkled at the musty smell they emanated. Sitting down next to Doris, she showed her one of the pages.

“This looks like it was taken here,” she said, pointing to one of the pictures.

The picture was of an old man standing on the front porch. Flanking him were two young boys and a teenager.

Doris took the album and studied the picture. “Those two boys are twins.” Her eyes widened. “Joe’s grandfather had half brothers, so if that’s who this is, then the teenager is his grandfather.” She lightly tapped the picture. “And I’d bet anything that this old man scowling at the camera is Joseph.”

“That’s the one who accused Rose’s great-grandfather of mishandling his father’s murder, right?”

“Yeah.” Doris shuddered. “He doesn’t look like someone I’d want to cross.”

Kate pulled the box closer and began removing the rest of its contents. “I wonder how far back these go?” she asked, browsing through them, then stacking them in a pile next to her. “From the background, I’m assuming that a lot of these pictures were taken here. No names, though.”

“Look at this,” Doris said, removing a shoe box from the bottom—the last of the carton’s contents. “Wonder what’s in here?” She opened it and found more pictures. These were in plastic sleeves and appeared to be printed on heavy cardstock. Turning one over, she read the back, “ ‘From the Photographic Studio of R. G. Strauss and Son, Flint Rapids, Iowa.’ ” She reversed the photo. “Look at the way they’re dressed. Late 1800s, I’d say.”

Kate fished another sleeved photograph out of the box.

It showed a couple—a man and a woman—seated in high-backed chairs. A younger man stood next to the seated man, and a small child, clothed in a short dress and holding a box, leaned against the woman’s leg. She had one arm protectively wrapped around the child’s shoulders. The woman wore a pained expression and looked as if she’d rather be somewhere else.

Kate’s attention shifted to the seated man and was caught by his eyes. Two dark orbs set in a glowering face seemed to reach out to her from across space and time. The peace she’d always felt in this room dissipated, and she felt an oppressiveness descend on her as a shudder rippled her shoulders. She dropped the picture and unconsciously rubbed her palms on her dress.

Doris gave her a quizzical look, picked up the photograph. “Pretty grim, aren’t they?”

“I don’t like the old man,” Kate said uneasily. “Something about him creeps me out. Do you feel it, too?”

“No.” Doris held up the picture and studied it closely. “There is something about his eyes, though. It’s probably due to the lighting that they used back then.”

“What about the child? Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I think it’s a boy. Small children were dressed alike back then no matter what the sex.”

Doris squinted. “Did you notice the younger man?”

“Not really.”

Doris grabbed the first album and opened it to the first picture they’d seen—the old man with the three boys. She laid the second photograph next to it.

“Look at this picture,” she said, tapping the plastic-sleeved photograph. “Then this one,” she continued, pointing to the album. “Do you see the resemblance?”

Kate’s focus traveled from one face to the other, then back again. Same nose, same mouth. “Could be that they’re related.”

“I think they’re the same man. I think it’s Joseph,” Doris said, her voice excited. “And if it is, then the adults in this older photo are Jacob and Hannah.”

“And the little boy is Willie—Will’s great-great-grandfather.” Kate gave the picture closer attention. “The box he’s holding—it must be the music box from the parlor. I recognize the clasp.”

Doris started to hand the picture back to Kate, but she shook her head. “Go ahead and put it back in the shoe box,” Kate said without touching it. “I’ll look at it later.”

Doris returned it and replaced the lid. Once the picture was out of sight, Kate felt her anxiety vanish.

“You know,” Doris said, rising to her feet, “Trudy has all these old family photographs displayed downstairs. I wonder why they’ve never framed that one? It’s got to be one of the earliest Krause family portraits.”

“Maybe Trudy found it disturbing, too,” Kate said, standing.

“I guess,” Doris answered thoughtfully. “All that family curse stuff does revolve around Jacob.”

Kate shook her head. “I’ve heard the stories about that and about the hauntings, but no one has ever mentioned how Jacob was killed.”

Doris shifted uncomfortably and kept her gaze on the floor. “He was stabbed.”

Chapter 31

Fall 2012, the Krause family farm

B
y the time Doris and Kate came back down the stairs, the crowd was beginning to thin. For the next thirty minutes, Kate stood at the door, thanking everyone for their attendance and their show of sympathy.

Once the last of the guests had left, Kate found Rose in the dining room. She crossed to the older woman and hugged her.

“Thanks,” she said, moving a step back. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Rose blushed. “I’m glad I was here to help,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair from Kate’s face. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay for now. I have my moments, but I need to keep busy until I go back to work.”

“When’s that?” Rose asked, picking up the last of the empty dishes and heading for the kitchen.

“Next week,” Kate answered, following her.

“Has Detective Shepherd talked to you again?”

“No.”

Rose grimaced. “I saw him lurking toward the back of the crowd at the cemetery. You are going to talk to an attorney, right?”

“I guess.” She hesitated. “Don’t you think it’ll appear that I have something to hide?”

“No,” Rose said vehemently. “You need someone who understands the system.”

Kate lifted an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘let the sheriff handle it’?”

Rose shoved her hands on her hips. “That was before we learned about the life insurance policy.”

“Okay, I’ll see an attorney, but I’m not going to spend my days looking over my shoulder.” Kate tossed her head. “I don’t know how or why this happened, but I’m going to trust that the truth will come out.”

A strange look crossed Rose’s face. “Not always,” she murmured, then swiftly changed the subject. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

Kate tugged on her bottom lip. “I’m not ready to go through Joe’s things, so I thought I’d clean out the back bedroom to give me more space.” Her expression grew uneasy. “Did Doris tell you that we think we found a picture of Jacob Krause in a box full of old photo albums?”

“You must be mistaken,” Rose said quickly.

“Doris is convinced. It’s a picture of a man and a woman with a teenage boy and a small child.”

Rose muttered something, but Kate failed to catch it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Rose answered with a shake of her head.

“Would you like to see the picture?” Kate asked with an uncertain note in her voice. “To tell you the truth, I found the picture disconcerting.”

Rose suddenly turned her back to Kate and began wiping off the already clean counters. “In what way?” she asked, her voice tense.

Baffled by Rose’s reaction, Kate shrugged. “Something about the man in the picture gave me the chills.” She gave a nervous smile. “I’m being silly. It’s just an old photograph, and as Doris pointed out, people in them always look unhappy.”

Rose faced Kate. “I have an idea. Why don’t I take the box home with me? I can go through them and figure out who some of the people are.”

“That’s okay,” Kate said. “Let me get them organized first, then we can go through them.”

Abruptly, Doris appeared in the doorway. “You’d better get in here,” she called, then spun on her heel.

Rose and Kate followed her through the dining room into the parlor.

The sight that met them had Kate stumbling to a stop.

Gone was the catatonic woman they’d witnessed over the past few days. Trudy was spitting mad and stood facing off with her grandmother in the center of the room. She held the old music box clutched tightly to her chest.

“Don’t you touch my things,” Trudy hissed.

“What’s going on?” Kate asked as she rushed to Trudy’s side.

“That woman,” Trudy replied through clenched jaws, “was walking around handling my treasures.”

Kate shot her grandmother an angry look over her shoulder and received one of feigned innocence in return.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” her grandmother replied blandly.

“Here,” Kate began as she touched the music box, “let’s put this back on—”

“No,” Trudy cried, stepping out of Kate’s reach. “I don’t trust her.” She held the music box tighter. “I’m going to my room.”

Kate motioned Rose and Doris over.

“Come on, Trudy,” Doris said gently, “I’ll help you.” Taking Trudy’s arm, she guided her out of the parlor. Rose followed, leaving Kate alone with her grandmother.

“What were you doing?” Kate asked, not trying to hide her indignation.

“Nothing,” her grandmother replied, strolling nonchalantly over to an armchair. With a sigh, she plopped into the chair. “This place is full of antiques, you know.”

Kate rolled her eyes as she sank onto the couch. “To Trudy, they’re family heirlooms.”

An avaricious light came into her grandmother’s eyes. “Family heirlooms that would bring a nice tidy sum at an estate sale.” She eyed Kate with speculation. “You
are
having a sale, aren’t you?”

“Really, Gran?” she asked, not hiding the disgust in her voice. “The funeral was only a few hours ago. Do you think now is the time to talk about money?”

Her grandmother ignored her question and settled back in the chair. “You’re going to have a hard time ahead of you,” she said with a click of her tongue. “A lot of decisions to be made, and obviously Trudy is in no shape to be of help.” Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair. “I think it would be best if I stayed here to advise you.”

Kate’s face twisted with dismay. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“
I
do,” her grandmother argued. “If I lived here, then I wouldn’t have to pay those worthless girls to come in every week. Think of the money I’d save.”

“We’ve been over this,” Kate said in a weary voice. “You’re not moving in here.”

Her grandmother gave an indignant sniff. “I don’t see why not. This is a big house. There’s plenty of room for me.”

Kate shot to her feet and began to pace. “No. You have a life in Des Moines. You’d be leaving your friends—”

Her grandmother cut her off with a wave of her hand. “I can make new friends.” Her attention roamed the room. “This is a nice place—far nicer than the cracker box I live in. We’ll have to clean out some of this clutter to make room for my things.”

A vision of plastic Elvis statues lining the mantel made Kate shudder.

“The sale I mentioned,” she continued, “would be a good way to do it.
And
it could bring in thousands.”

Kate came to a halt in front of her grandmother. “It’s not mine to sell.”

“Yes, it is. You inherit everything,” her grandmother replied quickly.

Kate stared down at her. “What makes you say that?”

Her grandmother shifted in the chair. “Oh, um, I think I overheard something this afternoon at the luncheon.”

“At the luncheon?” Kate asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes.” She nodded her head swiftly, her eyes not meeting Kate’s. “In the kitchen. That’s right . . . the kitchen. Some of Trudy’s friends were talking about how Joe left everything to you.”

Kate dropped her arms. “Cut the crap, Gran,” she said, her temper rising. “The only time any sort of an inheritance was mentioned was the day the accountant was here. You were eavesdropping weren’t you?”

Her grandmother jerked her chin in the air. “Is it my fault you were talking loud enough for me to hear you?” Her expression shifted and she leaned forward. “You’re going to be so much better off than your mother was when your father died. Kate, you’re going to be wealthy,” she said, awestruck. “Millions. My granddaughter is going to be a millionaire.”

The greed on her grandmother’s face sickened her.

“And you want to help me spend those millions, don’t you?” she asked in a deadly calm voice.

“It’s only fair,” she said, dropping her voice. “I took you in when your mother died—”

“And reminded me of it every day of my life,” Kate cried, her anger erupting. “Before I met Joe, I spent ninety percent of my free time stepping and fetching for you. I didn’t like it, but I did it because I thought I owed you.”

“You do owe me,” her grandmother insisted.

“No—no, I don’t. Since moving here, I received more kindness from strangers than I ever received from you. I’ve realized that what you did for me should’ve been done out of love and not with some price tag attached.” Kate took a sharp breath. “But that wasn’t the way it was, and as far as I’m concerned, that bill was paid in full a long time ago.”

“The very idea,” her grandmother huffed, “that my only grandchild would talk to me like this.” She rose to her feet. “I don’t intend to stay here and listen.”

“Good.” Kate glanced at the grandfather clock. “How long will it take you to pack? There’s a nice motel in Flint Rapids. While you’re getting your suitcases, I’ll call and make a reservation.”

Her grandmother whirled on her, sputtering.

Kate held up a hand before she could get the words out. “I’ll pay for two nights. That will give you time to call Mrs. Cutter and for her drive out to get you.” Turning on her heel, she began to march from the room. “After you pack your suitcases, I’ll find you a ride to the motel,” she called over her shoulder.

For the first time in Kate’s life, her grandmother was speechless.