Randy White - Seduced

“That’s so sad,” I whispered.

“I’ve yet to hear the preacher who can explain such shitty-awful goings-on,” Reggie agreed. “The governor was a strong man, but the year that followed just about broke him. I know. Seven days a week, I hauled him back and forth ’tween hospital beds-Miz Lilly’s and your mama’s. The two of us was always on guard against a slipup of some kind so you children wouldn’t suffer more hurt by learning the truth.”

“You must have come after hours,” I said. “I never saw you. Not once. And I visited Loretta every day.”

Reggie’s Tee-hee-hee chortle sounded almost normal. “That shows we was good at what we did. Many’s the time we sat parked in some shady spot, waiting for you to leave the hospital so as not to cause you more upset. The governor was kind that way when it came to young’uns and people he cared for.”

I didn’t trust myself to respond.

Reggie’s voice softened. “Lonnie Dupree-that’s her maiden name. She showed up about the same time, which is the thing I’m not at liberty to speak of. But I can tell you something the governor said the day after their wedding. He says, ‘Reggie, I might’ve been better off using my pistol than making the mistake I just made.’”

“After only one night?”

“Could be, he knew from the start. Lonnie is the type who gets her way, and she’s got a beautiful body on her, I’ll give her that. The governor was a fool in that regard and she knew it. They had history together, those two. They went way back.”

“My god, how many affairs did he have?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Reggie replied. “She was just a local girl back then, a cheerleader at Florida State. The only dealings the governor might’ve had with a cheerleader, other than parades and such, would be to try and help her out of trouble, not trick her into bed. You ever hear that saying, Miz Hannah, about no good deed going unpunished?”

With his tone, the chauffeur was relaying a guarded message. I attempted eye contact in the mirror. “She had something on him. Forced him into marriage for his money. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I never said no such thing,” he replied, but in a way that confirmed it was true.

“That’s hard to believe. Mr. Chatham was a powerful man. Why would someone with his connections allow himself to be buffaloed?”

“You ain’t been listening, girl. The last few years whittled the governor down somethin’ terrible. His spirit, I’m saying. Miz Lilly died, which was rough enough, then there was your mama’s brain surgeries that didn’t bring her back-not as he’d hoped. When that witch Lonnie showed up, the governor didn’t have much fight left in him.”

“He gave up,” I said. “Gave up on Loretta. That’s terrible, but I guess I can understand. She was never the same after that first surgery. That poor, dear man.”

“Gave up on himself, more like it. It about kilt poor ol’ Harney to know his chance to marry your mama had passed him by.”

I fumbled with the window switch and let the winter air chill me. It didn’t help. Ahead was a Taco Bell and a Shell station. I chose the Shell station because the restrooms were outside.

The door marked Women was locked, so I used the men’s room. Otherwise, someone might have seen the tears streaming down my face.

My emotions were under control as we waited for traffic at the intersection for U.S. 41 and Burnt Store Road. “Lonnie was blackmailing him,” I said.

Reggie got as far as “Didn’t say that” before I interrupted, “Even if she wasn’t, just hear me out. Something happened today I didn’t tell you. It concerns her; something bad she did. I don’t know if it makes a difference, but I’m willing to trade information.”

“I’m not at liberty to trade anything,” Reggie replied, “How bad we talkin’ about?”

He was still in the backseat, where the lacquered tray was open, the bottle of scotch within reach.

“Depends on your morals,” I said, “but it’s probably too late. She was in the boathouse this afternoon with another man, just before we pulled up. They were naked, in there alone. Kermit saw them run off. All her crying, those accusations she made about the three whiskey glasses-the way she yelled at you-it was all an act. She knew darn well Mr. Chatham didn’t die in the cabin.”

“Say what?”

He slurred his words, so I repeated the details. “Kermit was in the river, swimming,” I said, “and he doesn’t strike me as the type of man to lie. He thinks Lonnie knows he saw them, but he’s not sure. Either way, she had to go along with our lie.”

“The new grove manager. Why would he trust you with a story that could mean his job?”

I said, “I’m still wondering about that myself. He doesn’t like Lonnie, so maybe he sees you or me as an ally after she inherits the property. The important thing is, Lonnie knew her husband’s body wasn’t in the cabin until after we arrived. She couldn’t admit that, of course, so she went to the police with her accusations, hoping they’d figure it out, or we’d confess. That’s the part I don’t understand. Why risk the police taking a closer look if she was having an affair the afternoon her husband died?”

Reggie sobered. “That there’s a street that travels both ways.”

“I’m aware of the irony,” I said. “Neither side can throw stones.”

“Oh, that Lonnie would throw any stone she gets her hands on. You got a name for the man she was with?”

From his tone, I could tell the chauffeur had some names in mind.

“Someone local. Kermit said it was better I didn’t know. He said something else. He told me Lonnie is dangerous.”

“A conniving, lying tramp, is what she is,” the chauffeur responded, yet with a fresh optimism that didn’t make sense. “She got caught screwin’ another man before the governor was dead-as far as she knows anyway. Ain’t that great! By god, that whore has met her equal in you, Miz Hannah.”

I flashed a warning look in the mirror. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, ma’am. That didn’t come out the way it sounded.”

“I hope not. Watch your language or I’ll put you in a cab. Now, tell me what she did to make Mr. Chatham marry her.”

Traffic had thinned; I started my turn, but Reggie leaned over the seat and urged, “Go straight, go straight!” meaning Burnt Store Road, which angled southwest along the coast toward Cape Coral.

I applied the brakes. “That’s not the shortest route.”

“Are you working for me or aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I just made up my mind about something. I want to hire you properly, with a contract and all so you’ll keep what I’m about to show you a secret. If you’re working for me, I know it’ll stay confidential.”

“I already told you that, so let me do the driving, if you don’t mind.”

“No. Bigalow’s got a point. That woman’s dangerous, so it’s best more than one of us knows why the governor did what he did.” He leaned over the seat and pointed again. “Go straight-it ain’t far.”

As I asked, “Where?” my cell phone rang.

No caller ID, but I recognized a number I’d recently entered.

It was Kermit Bigalow.

The grove manager said, “Lonnie wants to terminate my contract. But that’s not why I called. Do you have a minute?”

“I’m in the car with Reggie.”

“Are you on speakerphone?”

I found the question unsettling until he pushed ahead, saying, “Doesn’t matter. With all that was going on, I just remembered something you said earlier. About your citrus grove, that some of the trees are more than a hundred years old. Is that true? I’d be surprised if it is.”