Рита Браун - Murder On The Prowl

They looked at each other a long time. "Boss, how we gonna prove it?"

He shrugged. "Wait for a mistake."

69

The drive back from Richmond, hypnotic in its boredom, found Irene and Jody silent. Irene swung onto the exit at Manakin-Sabot.

"Why are you getting off sixty-four?"

"I'll stay more alert on two-fifty. More to see."

"Oh." Jody slumped back in her seat.

"Do you feel all right?"

"Tired."

"That's natural after what your body has just been through."

"Mom, did you ever have an abortion?"

Irene cleared her throat. "No."

"Would you?"

"I don't know. I was never in your position. Your father thinks it's murder." Her brow furrowed. "How are you going to break this to him?"

"He should talk."

"Don't start, today. He's a flawed man but he's not a killer. Now, I'm going to tell him you had a miscarriage. Leave it to me."

"We're lucky he's in jail." Jody smiled weakly, adding, "If he was home he'd kill us!"

"Jody!"

"I'm sorry, but, Mom, he's confused. People do have secret lives, and Dad is weird."

Irene raised her voice. "You think he did it, don't you? You think he killed Roscoe and McKinchie. I don't know why. You ought to give your father more support."

"Dad's got an evil temper."

"Not that evil."

"You were going to divorce him. All of a sudden he's this great guy. He's not so great. Even in jail he's not much different from when he was out of jail."

A strangled silence followed. Then Irene said, "Everyone can change and learn. I know your pregnancy shocked him into looking at himself. He can't change the past, but he can certainly improve the future."

"Not if he gets convicted, he can't."

"Jody, shut up. I don't want to hear another word about your father getting convicted."

"It's better to be prepared for the worst."

"I'm taking this a day at a time. I can't handle any more than I'm handling now, and you aren't helping. You know your father is innocent."

"I almost don't care." Jody sat up straight. "Just let me have what's left of this year, Mom, please."

Irene considered what her daughter said. Jody could seem so controlled on the outside, like her father, but her moods could also shift violently and quickly. Her outburst at the field hockey game, which now seemed years away, was proof of how unhappy Jody had been. She hadn't seen her daughter's problems because she was too wrapped up in her own. A wave of guilt engulfed her. A tear trickled down Irene's pale cheek.

Jody noticed. "We'll be okay."

"Yes, but we'll never be the same."

"Good."

Irene breathed in deeply. "I guess things were worse than I realized. The lack of affection at home sent you looking for it from other people . . . Sean in particular."

"It was nice being"—she considered the next word—"important."

They swooped right into the Crozet exit. As they decelerated to the stop sign, Irene asked, "Did you tell anyone else you were pregnant?"

"No!"

"I don't believe you. You can't resist talking to your girlfriends."

"And you never talk to anyone."

"Not about family secrets."

"Maybe you should have, Mother. What's the big deal about keeping up appearances? It didn't work, did it?"

"Did you tell anyone?"

"No."

"You told Karen Jensen."

"I did not."

"You two are as thick as thieves."

"She hangs out with Brooks Tucker as much as she hangs out with me." A thin edge of jealousy lined Jody's voice. "Mom, hang it up."

Irene burst into tears. "This will come back to haunt you. You'll feel so guilty."

"It was the right thing to do."

"It violates everything we've been taught. Oh, why did I agree to this? I am so ashamed of myself."

"Mother, get a grip." Icy control and icy fury were in Jody's young face. "Dad's accused of murder. You're going to run the business. I'm going to college so I can come home and run the business. You can't take care of a baby. I can't take care of a baby."

"You should have thought of that in the first place," Irene, a hard edge now in her voice, too, shot back.

"Maybe you should have thought about your actions, too." Jody's glacial tone frosted the interior of the car.

"What do you mean?" Irene paused. "That silly idea you had that I was sleeping with Samson Coles. Where do you get those ideas? And then to accuse the poor man in the post office."

"To cover your ass."

"What!" Irene's eyes bugged out of her head.

"You heard what I said—to cover your ass. You'd been sleeping with Roscoe. You thought I didn't know."

Irene sputtered, her hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. "How dare you."

"Save it, Mom. I know because he told me."

"The bastard!"

"Got that right."

Irene calmed down a moment. "Why would he tell you?" She still hadn't admitted to Jody the veracity of the accusation.

"Because I was sleeping with him, too."

"Oh, my God." Irene's foot dropped heavier on the gas pedal.

"So don't tell me right from wrong." Jody half smiled.

"I'm glad he's dead."

Jody smiled fully. "He didn't tell me, really—I figured it out for myself."

"You—" Irene sputtered.

"It doesn't matter." Jody shrugged.

"The hell it doesn't." She slowed down a bit since the red speedometer needle had surged past eighty. "Did you sleep with him?"

"Yes. Each year Roscoe picked his chosen one. My turn, I guess."

"Why?" Irene moaned.

"Because he'd give me anything I wanted and because I'd get into whatever school I wanted. Roscoe would fix it."

"Jody, I'm having a hard time taking all this in." Irene's lower lip trembled.

"Stop," Jody commanded.

"Stop what?"

"The car!"

"Why?"

"We need to pick up the mail."

"I'm too shook up to see people."

"Well, I'm not. So stop the damned car and I'll get the mail."

Irene parked at the post office, while Jody got out. Then she worried about what her daughter would say to Harry and Miranda, so she followed her inside.

Harry called out, "In the nick of time."

Miranda, busy cleaning, called out a hello.

"Irene, you look peaked. Come on back here and sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."

Irene burst into tears at Miranda's kindness. "Everything is so awful. I want my husband out of jail."

"Mom, come on." Jody tugged at her, smiling weakly at Miranda and Harry.

"Poor Irene." Tucker hated to see humans cry.

"She's better off without him," Pewter stated matter-of-factly.

Two squad cars roared by the post office, sirens wailing, followed by the rescue squad. Cynthia trailed in her squad car. But she pulled away and stopped at the post office. She opened the door and saw Irene and Jody.

"What's going on?" Miranda asked.

"A corpse was found at Bowden's farm." She cleared her throat. "The car is registered to Winifred Thalman of New York City."

"I wonder who—" Miranda never finished her sentence.

"Mom, I'm really tired."

"Okay, honey." Irene wiped her eyes. "You can't accuse Kendrick of this one! He's in jail."

Cooper quietly replied, "I don't know about that, Mrs. Miller, she's been dead quite some time."

Tears of frustration and rage flooded Irene's cheeks. She slapped Cynthia hard.

"Mom!" Jody pulled her mother out of there.

"Striking an officer is a serious offense, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Under the circumstances, let's just forget it."

"They finally found the body." Tucker sighed.

"Yes." The tiger squinted as the dying sun sparked off Irene's windshield as she pulled away from the post office. "They're getting closer to the truth."

"What is the truth?" Pewter said philosophically.

"Oh, shut up." Mrs. Murphy cuffed her friend's ears.

"I couldn't resist." The gray cat giggled.