The Widows of Braxton County (27 page)
Fall 2012, Dutton
A
s Kate left the library, she was so upset by Will’s reaction that she almost missed Doris calling to her from down the block.
“Hey, how are you?” Doris asked, running up to her and giving her a hug. “I tried calling you.”
Kate glanced past Doris and down the street. She noticed two of Trudy’s friends standing on the corner, looking their way and whispering.
“You’re not afraid to be seen talking to me?”
Doris followed Kate’s gaze, then turned toward her and took her arm. “Bunch of narrow-minded people,” she muttered. “Let’s really give them something to gossip about.” She tugged on Kate. “We’re going to the Four Corners Café for coffee.”
Kate pulled back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said with hesitation.
“Sure it is,” Doris answered with a wink. “You’re not going to let those old busybodies scare you, are you?”
Kate took a deep breath and fell into step next to Doris. When they entered the café, all conversation ceased and all eyes turned toward them. She lifted her chin a notch and, following Doris, breezed past them to a booth in the back.
“That was fun,” Kate muttered after taking a seat, and the hum of conversation resumed.
After placing their order, Doris leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
Kate related the events of her arrest, and when she’d finished, Doris nodded.
“Rose did good. Darwin Brown has a statewide reputation.”
“I don’t know.” She paused for a moment. “I might regret it.”
She explained her disagreement with Rose and how threatened she’d felt by Will.
“I don’t understand it, Doris. On the one hand, they talk like the past doesn’t matter—yet at the same time, they won’t talk about it.”
Doris dumped creamer and two packets of sugar into her coffee. “People have long memories, and Will was right—his great-grandfather worked hard to establish his reputation.” She slowly stirred her coffee. “Because of his mother, he had to overcome a lot of prejudice. Joe’s murder has everyone riled up, and they’ve begun to rehash Jacob’s. Willie’s reputation might lose some of its glimmer in the process.”
“You know Will’s family. Did you know that they’ve always believed Joseph might have somehow engineered what happened to Hannah?”
“It doesn’t surprise me. It’s my guess that there’s been a lot of closed-door discussions lately. Will has always acted like the past isn’t a big deal, but I don’t know if I believe it.”
“But his family’s done well.”
Doris chortled. “You bet they have. They could buy and sell Joe’s side of the family ten times over.”
“No kidding?” Kate’s eyes widened in surprise. “I never would’ve suspected that from the way Will acts.”
“They’ve always kept it on the down low, and his family’s never bragged or lorded it over people. They’ve been more concerned about carrying on the legacy they feel they inherited from Willie.”
“Philanthropy and social activism.”
“Exactly. They’ve been involved in Essie’s House from the beginning. The money for the new mental health clinic at Braxton County Hospital came from them.”
“And Will’s afraid that
this
could hurt his family’s reputation?” Kate shook her head. “I’m not buying it. There has to be more to it than that.”
Doris laid a hand on the table. “No—listen—they’ve dedicated decades to preserving the way this community sees them. If it were you, how far would you go to protect that? Any scandal—even an old one—might damage it.”
“Trudy hinted that there might be a few skeletons rattling around.”
“Did she say what?”
“No, she talked about the night Jacob was killed—said only Hannah and Willie were in the house that night.” She thought for a moment. “She made a vague reference to Willie being present when the county attorney died.” Kate lifted an eyebrow. “Which made Will mad when I brought it up.”
Doris leaned forward, her face animated. “You don’t suppose? Nah.” She waved a hand. “That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“Suppose Willie killed Jacob?” she asked in a whisper.
“That’s a terrible thought,” Kate said in a stunned voice. “He was a child.”
“A child who’d witnessed his mother’s abuse at the hands of his father.”
“That’s crazy,” Kate answered with a shake of her head.
Doris sat back deflated. “I suppose you’re right. By all accounts, Willie grew to be a peaceful, gentle man. Not someone you’d suspect of committing patricide.”
A strange thought popped into Kate’s mind, but she failed to share it with Doris.
What if Willie’s life hadn’t been driven by selflessness, but by a need for redemption?
All the talk with Doris had planted suspicion in Kate’s mind. No matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, their reaction to her interest in Hannah had been abnormal. They were desperate to keep the past buried. She’d been a fool to blindly trust people she barely knew. Not only did the friendship between Rose and Will go back for years, Will was connected to Rose’s pride and joy—Essie’s House.
After pulling into the driveway, Kate sat in the Jeep, her mind racing. It was as if her doubts opened a floodgate of crazy ideas and she couldn’t move.
Joe had been jealous of Will and he knew something damaging about Will’s family.
Joe was in financial trouble. Will’s family had money.
No, she thought, trying to shove her theories away.
She failed. She’d already started to wonder if Will was bitter over his lost heritage and had argued with Joe. What had Doris said? How far would you go to protect a reputation that had taken years to build? Kate couldn’t stop the idea forming in her mind.
Had Joe attempted to blackmail Will? Had Will killed him to protect his secrets?
There—the questions were asked, and they made her sick.
Rose had hired Darwin Brown. They were setting her up, just like Hannah had been.
Discouraged, Kate dragged herself into the house and the first thing she heard was that damn music box with its skipping tune.
“That’s it,” she muttered, striding over to the box and slamming the lid.
She looked around quickly and didn’t spot Trudy. After tucking the box under her arm, she hurried from the house and crossed the yard to Joe’s office. After opening the door, she paused. The last day she entered this room had been the day Joe died. The memories of the hope she’d felt that day turned her mouth sour.
Squaring her shoulders, she moved to Joe’s desk and started to rummage for a small screwdriver. She finally found one small enough.
She sat in the chair and studied the box, screwdriver in hand. In a way, she hated dismantling the antique, but the constant missed note was driving her crazy. There wasn’t much in her life that she could fix at this point, but at least she could do something about this.
Carefully, she removed the movement from inside the box and placed the box on the floor. Leaning over, she studied it. One of the prongs responsible for playing the tune was missing.
She bent over in the chair and lifted the lid of the box. The missing prong lay in its corner—right next to words someone had roughly carved into the bottom.
THE SINS OF THE FATHER
Fall 2012, the Krause family farm
K
ate was shocked, and sat staring inside the box. The same words she found in the old book were carved in Willie’s music box. The lettering was crude and it was hard to tell if a child or an adult had done the carving.
She thought for a moment, wishing she could remember the quote. Did the rest of it say something about visiting the sins of the father onto the children? If she could only make the connection between the book and the music box, she knew it would lead to the truth.
She opened the desk and started to rummage through the drawers. The sheriff had no doubt been through it, but a piece of paper or note that seemed innocuous to them might mean something to her.
She found nothing in the first drawer, then opened the second. Pictures of ocean liners sailing across turquoise seas lay on top. With tears filling her eyes, Kate removed the brochures and spread them across the desk.
Joe had talked about a cruise the night they’d had their picnic in the apple orchard. He’d remembered and had planned to carry through.
Kate traced a finger across one of the brochures. This was the surprise he’d mentioned on the morning of his death. She sniffed and dashed the tears from her cheeks.
Returning to the drawer, she dug deeper. With a gasp, she pressed her fingers to her lips. She was wrong—here was the
real
surprise: a rental agreement for the retirement apartments, made out in Trudy’s name. It was dated for the first of next month.
She leaned back in the chair as regret overtook her. Joe had been serious about changing. Glancing down at the brochures, she thought of how the whole community had been comparing him to Jacob. They were wrong. Joe was nothing like Jacob. He was facing his mistakes and trying to mend them.
And she was nothing like Hannah. The past held no secrets that would help her with the present.
She was scooping up the brochures when a sound in the doorway caught her attention. She froze as Will strolled over to the desk.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“I came out to apologize . . . again . . . saw the door open and figured I’d find you in here.” He looked down at the scattered paper. “Looking for more clues?”
She shuffled the papers around, intent on returning them to the drawer. “No—no—I’m just cleaning things out,” she replied, sounding lame to her own ears.
Will picked up one of the cruise brochures and gave her a quizzical look. “Planning on a trip?”
She snatched it out of his hand. “No. Joe had mentioned it once and evidently was pursing the idea.”
“I thought he had financial problems?” he asked as his eyes narrowed.
Kate dropped the brochures into the open drawer and slammed it shut. “That’s none of your business.” She folded the rental agreement and stuck it in her pocket.
He placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Did he tell you where he planned on getting the money?”
Kate scooted the chair away from the edge of the desk. “You know how closemouthed he was when it came to his finances.”
“Didn’t he talk about money in your counseling sessions? That’s one of the things that most couples fight about, isn’t it?”
She looked up at the man staring at her with eyes just like Joe’s. She really didn’t know this man at all. A thin trickle of sweat snaked down her spine as Will sat on the corner of the desk.
Before she could respond to his question, he picked up the movement from inside the music box.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Kate nudged the box with her foot. “Parts to the music box.”
His face flushed. “You dismantled an antique?”
“Um—yeah. I wanted to know why it kept skipping that one note. A piece is broken off.” She slowly rose to her feet and edged to the corner of the desk. “I’ll have it repaired.” Her gaze flitted toward the door as she began to slide in that direction.
His hand on her arm stopped her. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“Rest of it?” she repeated with a blank face.
“Yeah. The case, the box?” He dropped his hand and went behind the desk. He spotted it, then picked it up.
Kate backed toward the door as Will lifted the lid. “What in the hell is this?” His attention zeroed in on Kate, and she froze. “Did you do this?” he asked, the anger building in his face.
“No.”
Will placed the music box on the desk and came toward her. “Do you know what it means?”
“No.” She took a step back. “Do you?”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea, and I think you do, too.” He continued to advance toward her. “The next question would be . . . what do you intend to do with that information?”
“N-Nothing—I don’t know anything,” she stammered.
He stopped and put his hands on his hips. “What in the hell’s wrong with you?”
Kate darted toward the door. “
Get out
and leave me alone,” she cried, fleeing to the house.
Once inside the house, Kate pulled the paper out of her pocket and tossed it onto the counter before heading to her bedroom. Anger and fear warred inside her.
What next? Will thought she knew something and she didn’t. She was clueless as she had been from the beginning. She had no idea how the carving inside the box connected with the old book. But Will did. Had Joe seen the carving and figured it out? Was he blackmailing Will? Did Will kill him? She kicked the storage container holding the pictures. Those damn things had started all of this.
The only one who might have a glimmer of what was going on was Trudy. Returning downstairs Kate found her flitting around the parlor with a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.
When she noticed Kate, she faced her. “Did you take my music box?”
“Yes,” Kate said as she crossed her arms.
“How dare you!” Trudy’s face turned crimson and she looked as if she were ready to spring at Kate.
Kate held up her hands. “You said it held a secret. Did you know the words ‘the sins of the father’ were carved into the bottom?”
“You destroyed my music box,” she cried.
“It can be fixed.” She watched her intently. “I want to know what the words mean and why they were carved in the box.”
Trudy sank into one of the armchairs and started picking at the crumpled paper in her hand. “I don’t know,” she answered, all the fight gone out of her.
Kate believed her.
“What did Joe know about Will’s family? Was he blackmailing Will?”
Trudy stopped shredding the paper. “I don’t know, but I know my son wasn’t a criminal.”
“Did Willie kill Jacob?”
A confused expression crossed her face. “Hannah killed Jacob,” she said slowly, letting the pieces of paper fall around her feet like confetti. “Hannah cursed our family.”
She raised her eyes and looked past Kate. An uneasy sensation settled between her shoulder blades, and she fought the desire to whirl around.
“It’s over,” Trudy mumbled. “I’ve failed. All these years . . . all the work . . . all for nothing. The last of Joseph’s sons is dead.” She rose to her feet, dropping the paper from her hand.
Without a glance toward Kate, she walked from the room with her head down and her shoulders slumped.
Kate thought about following her, but she looked so beaten, to engage in further questioning would only make it worse. It had been futile. She heard the door to Trudy’s room close; a moment later, the TV began to blare again.
With a sigh, Kate knelt and picked up the scraps of paper littering the rug.
One, with the printing still readable, caught her eye.
It was the rental agreement.
