Nancy Bartholomew - Stand By Your Man

I was back in town, rolling down Elm Street, two blocks away from Pauline Conrad's condominium.

"So, he was looking to borrow the money to finance the Promised Land from Nosmo?"

Bess shook her head. "No, not at first. When I met him, all he was looking to do was buy out Archer VanScoy, kind of a reverse takeover. But he didn't want to lose anything to do it. He wanted his image and the power of being the mobile home king. Do you know what a stupid thing it would've been to borrow three million from Nosmo? Twenty percent interest rate, impossible terms, and Nosmo just waiting to repo the whole deal."

"Why didn't he go through with it?" I pulled up into the condominium parking lot, killed the engine, and turned to face Bess.

She looked me right in the eye. "Because we fell in love," she said simply. "And Vernell decided to walk in the path of righteousness."

"But he was still drinking!"

Bess shrugged. "I didn't say he was walking in the path of perfection. Vernell was new to doing things the right way. Every now and then, he fell back. But Maggie, he kept trying. That's what was new about Vernell."

Part of me wanted to set her straight, and part of me wanted to believe her. Was it possible that Vernell Spivey had found what I hadn't been able to provide? Was it true that he was growing up at last? I looked up at the tenth floor of the condo building and shuddered. Maybe Pauline Conrad had taken it all away from him. And if she hadn't, maybe she held the key to figuring it all out.

"Okay," I said, "let's go. There's the small matter of the doorman, and then we're in and up the elevator."

Bess stepped out of the car, her lips tightened into a firm, straight line. "Don't worry about him," she said. "I can get us inside."

Bess squared her shoulders and walked across the parking lot. I followed her, doing my best to match her long strides to my own shorter ones. When she reached the front door, Bess fumbled in her purse, produced a flat, plastic card, and stuck it into a slot by the doorway.

When she saw my mouth gape open, she smiled. "I hired a private detective to find out all about Nosmo. Like I said, I've known about his little love nest for years. He kept his passkey right out on his dresser. I guess he thought I was stupid."

She breezed inside, walked right up to the elevator and punched the button.

"Excuse me," the doorman said, "I don't believe I know you."

Bess favored him with a regal glare. "No, I don't believe you do," she said, and sailed into the open elevator. I stepped in behind her, my heart pounding, and watched as she hit the button for the tenth floor and then the button to close the doors.

"All you do," she said, "is act as if you belong and they don't. Another little trick my husband taught me. I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying I learned it from him."

We rode up in silence. I had no idea what she was thinking, but I was trying to figure out the best way to get to Pauline Conrad. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Bess King was across the hall and ringing the doorbell without me having to direct her. Her eyes were hard and her entire manner had changed. Gone was the country girl, and in her place, a hard-nosed, all-business woman.

Footsteps scuffed across the foyer on the other side of the door. Someone peered out through the peephole, and then the door swung open on its chain.

Pauline Conrad wore bunny slippers and flannel pajamas. Her hair was pulled back from her face by a soft pink headband, and all the makeup had been carefully scrubbed away. She looked ten years old, with an early onset case of acne.

"Bess," she said, stuttering slightly and obviously startled.

"Hello, Pauline. Mind if we come in? I need to talk to you." Bess spoke softly, but like my old school principal, with authority and strength that simmered just below the genuine warmth and kindness. I didn't know how she was pulling it off. This was the latest in a string of women who'd slept with her husband on a regular basis, eroding her marriage into the sham it had become when she met Vernell.

Pauline closed the door, removed the chain and then swung it wide to admit her late-night visitors. As Bess stepped through the door, Pauline started offering her tea and coffee and all manner of drinks and hospitality, but Bess shook her head and waved her away.

"Let's go sit in your living room and have us a little talk," she said. She smiled, but I was reminded of the old tale Mama used to tell about the mongoose and the snake. I was willing to bet that the smile on Bess King's face matched the smile the mongoose gave the snake, right before it killed it.

Bess sat down on a white overstuffed sofa and glanced around the elegantly appointed room. It was all done in shades of white and cream, with rich textures and fabrics that screamed of money. A beautiful oil painting of a naked woman hung over the marble edged fireplace. The frame was thick with gold leaf covering its ornate scrollwork.

"My," Bess said, looking around. "Nosmo did have taste. Or did he hire a decorator?"

Pauline turned bright red, then began to pale. "Bess, it isn't…"

"Shut up, honey," Bess said. "It is exactly what it looks like. And don't think I'm especially offended by you. You're just the latest in a string of women that Nosmo installed here in his little love nest. I've known about it for years, so don't feel special."

Pauline started to cry and this only irritated Bess.

"Now listen," she said. "Don't waste your little crocodile tears on us, we really don't have time for them. I want you to start by telling me what happened to my husband."

Pauline choked off a sob and started to cough.

"Get her a glass of water," Bess said to me. As I headed for the kitchen, Bess continued. "I know you were with Nosmo at breakfast the morning he disappeared. I know you went off with him and Vernell Spivey. I know Vernell was drinking. Now, when you can pull yourself together, I want to know how my husband died."

I walked back into the room with the glass of water a minute later and found Pauline blowing her nose and Bess staring at her with an unrelenting gaze that would've made me confess to any manner of sins.

Pauline took the glass from me with a hand that shook so hard it threatened to spill the water over the edge.

"All right," she said. "Here it is, but you're not gonna like it." She tried to look spiteful, but it came off more like she had something stuck in her eyes.

"I know about them other girls," she said, "but Nosmo loved me. We were gonna get married."

Bess snorted. "I could care less about that. Tell me the facts, not your dreams."

Pauline tossed her hair back over her shoulders and went on. "That morning we had breakfast at Tex and Shirley's, just like always. We sat at a big old round table in the back, Nosmo's table they call it, on account of he sits there every morning, with me, and whoever else shows up. It's tradition. Vernell Spivey was there because he was due to get some money from Nosmo."

Bess leaned forward slightly. "Then what happened?"

Pauline cocked her head and closed her eyes for a second. "Well, a bunch of other folks stopped by and we ate."

"Who?"

Pauline frowned. "Um, Christine Razuki and her boyfriend, Archer. Um, Bill Leon and his 'friend,' Robbie. I guess that's it. I mean, the table was full, we were all packed in there. I guess some other people stopped by, but they were just saying hello. You know, like the city manager, a town council guy, Nosmo's barber. I don't know! What does it matter, anyway?" Pauline looked like she was getting impatient with all the interruptions. "So where was I?" she asked.

"Wait," I said, "I have a question. Where was everybody sitting?"

Even Bess looked puzzled by that question.