"The Sounds of Silence" drifted into Lettie's ears at six o'clock. The song disturbed her silence this early morn, and she rapidly slapped the button on the clock radio to turn off the offending music. In hopes of getting her blood circulating each morning, she always had the oldies station tuned in on her clock radio. Her theory was not working well this day. As she sat up slowly and swung her legs to the side of the bed, her body did not want to respond to its wakeful state. Those first few steps revealed stiff, sore muscles no doubt the result of the tensions of the previous day.
Lettie lethargically padded downstairs to start her coffee, and on the way back through the living room she noticed the red blinking light on her answering machine. Two messages awaited her, one from Sophie and one from Gloria. Nothing was urgent, so she decided a shower and coffee were in order before phone calls.
After her second cup of coffee, Lettie began to function more alertly. She checked the clock to make sure she wouldn't be late to the office. With time to spare, she called Sophie, and they chatted about her dinner with Mitch. Sophie had quieted Gloria's fears about the fingerprint process somewhat, but she still seemed terrified that her husband would find out about her arrest.
The two women discussed what Lettie had learned from Mitch about the murder and agreed that in their estimation Amelia was the prime suspect now. However, Lettie came up with the theory that Amelia and Jeff might have conspired to do in poor Charlotte. It wouldn't have mattered if Jeff were in Chicago if he had an accomplice in Stafford, she decided.
The two hung up and Lettie drove to Watkins and Edwards. On the way, her thoughts concentrated on possible ideas of how she could meet and talk with Amelia Williams. Since she was not well acquainted with her, it would be hard, but she convinced herself that there was a way.
Lettie parked her van in the employee parking lot and walked the half block to WE. Mr. Watkins made the decision thirty years ago that the parking lot by their offices would be for clients only. The walk didn't bother Lettie on this beautiful spring day; besides she could use the exercise.
WE's two-story structure reminded her of a northern version of Tara. It was white, complete with columns and black shutters. After opening the large front door, which was embellished with stained glass, she entered the reception area decorated in a typical early American fashion. Oak floors sported several large braided oval rugs. Comfortable wing chairs covered with blue chintz print and walls adorned with pen and ink lithographs greeted her eyes. A lush assortment of green plants added to the ambience.
Gina Fields, the receptionist, stood behind her large mahogany desk. Her hands were a blur filling the sales associates' cubbyholes with mail and phone messages. Her head turned in the direction of the door. A pleasing chime had alerted her to Lettie's presence.
"Hi, Lettie. How are you feeling today?"
Gina was young, probably nineteen or twenty. She had started working for WE after graduation from Stafford High. Her mop of red curls framed a porcelain complexion. Green eyes sparkled like emeralds. Lettie thought perky was the best way to describe her personality. She always felt a little better after encountering Gina each morning. Her positive attitude was infectious. She handed Lettie her mail and telephone messages, and they exchanged a few pleasantries.
Lettie's office was on the first floor. There were twelve real estate sales associates at WE not including the founding partners Sherman Watkins and Taylor Edwards. The top sales people got their choice of offices on the first floor. Even though all offices in the building were the same size, the first floor offices were more elaborately decorated and included windows. The firm also included a rental office and a real estate development office.
Watkins and Edwards currently had three residential subdivisions under development and two small strip malls were in the works. The largest real estate office in Stafford, it was also the oldest, having been a force in town for forty years. Both founders were in their sixties and had children in the wings to take over when they retired.
Lettie deposited her mail and messages on her desk and put her purse in her lower desk drawer. There was a morning meeting every Thursday, and only those sales associates showing houses were excused. She was not in the mood for an extended meeting, because she had other things to think about. On the way to the conference room, she stopped by the break room for a cup of coffee. This ought to keep me awake, she thought. Sometimes Mr. Watkins could jabber on for an eternity about the most minute matters. Hopefully, this would not be one of those days.
The meeting started exactly on time as she knew it would. Sherman Watkins evidently had a mother as strict as hers when it came to being punctual. Meetings he chaired always began on time. The day's agenda was nothing earth shattering, but it was important to their office. Lettie's concentration on real estate matters was interrupted sporadically with thoughts of the murder.
Suddenly an idea came to her. Alvin Crabtree, head of WE's real estate development office, purchased all materials from Williams Lumber Company. All his dealings were with Amelia Williams and Jeff Downey. In fact, Lettie thought, WE was probably Williams Lumber Company's largest client. After the meeting, she would talk to Alvin. Maybe she could find some way to ferret out information from him concerning Amelia and/or Jeff. This was perfect, she exulted.
Mercifully, the meeting was over in an hour, and she practically tackled Alvin on his way out the door of the conference room.
"Alvin, I need to talk to you as soon as possible."
"I can't see you right away, how about after lunch. Would around one be all right?" Of course it would have to be all right. What else could she do? Waiting was all she seemed to do the past couple of days.
"I'll see you in your office around one. Thanks, Alvin." Paperwork in her office beckoned, so Lettie hurried back to her six by eight-foot cubicle to get some work done. One of her messages was from Margaret Oldham, who had purchased the house Wednesday. A knot formed in her stomach and not from hunger. She fretted that something was amiss with the financing of the Meese property.
"Margaret, this is Lettie Balfour returning your call." She apologized for keeping Mrs. Oldham waiting since early this morning explaining about her meeting.
"I just wanted you to know that a policeman came to my house asking questions about you. He wanted to make sure you were with us on Wednesday afternoon."
Lettie, whose temper rarely reared its ugly head, began shaking. She sputtered to Mrs. Oldham, "Who was asking the questions?"
"An Officer White."
Mitch's very own partner. She was livid. So, she was also a suspect. No wonder Mitch didn't want to discuss the suspects with her last night. She calmed herself enough to explain the situation to Mrs. Oldham and concluded the call.
She took some deep breaths while thinking about Mitch's betrayal. He knew she wouldn't harm a fly, let alone a human being. Why had he sent his partner to check her alibi?
She grabbed the phone and dialed the police recalling the number from yesterday's call to Jim White. She meant to dress down Mr. Mitchell Crawford. Unfortunately, he was out of the office. Another wait. She looked at her watch; it was almost lunchtime. After returning a few phone calls, she left for the Ladybug. This being Friday, she knew that their special of the day would be fish. What kind she would find out shortly. Although her intense anger had not diminished her appetite, she knew one thing for sure; she would not have dessert.
The Ladybug was only a matter of blocks from the office. Lettie thought that the walk would probably do her figure and state of mind a world of good; nevertheless, she opted to drive. After parking in the same lot as the previous day, she made the familiar trek to her favorite noon eatery. The blackboard in the front window proclaimed today's special to be salmon cakes. This was Lettie's favorite fish entree.
Mildred and Sally were on the job as usual. Lettie chose a booth for two and by the time she had seated herself, Sally was at her side. Lettie didn't need a menu today or on most days for that matter. After ordering salmon cakes, creamed peas and carrots, and a salad, she settled in with her mystery novel.
She ate at a leisurely pace, since she had almost two hours to kill before meeting with Alvin Crabtree. Her paperwork was complete, and she didn't have any appointments to show houses this afternoon. None of the waitresses in the Ladybug seemed to know any news above and beyond what had appeared in the Times Beacon that morning. Lettie knew it always disappointed Mildred when she could not inform her public, but that was the case today. Sometimes Lettie thought she ate at the cafe not only for the food but also for the news that emanated from the diner.
Things were pretty boring that lunchtime until Jeff Downey walked in the door. Lettie couldn't believe her luck. Here was a chance to talk to the possible murderer. She'd do her own investigation whether Mitch liked it or not. The heck with him.
She had never seen him in the Ladybug before, but there couldn't have been a better time for him to show up in her opinion. Moving to the lunch counter, he lowered his well-toned frame onto a blue stool directly in front of the glass shelves holding the day's freshly baked pies.
He looked just awful. Lettie did not see him frequently, but it was evident that he was upset. A handsome man with dark, wavy hair and drop dead blue eyes, he always looked like he could be a model for an ad in Gentlemen's Quarterly. Today was another story. His tousled hair and red-rimmed eyes conveyed the state of his feelings, and rumpled clothes completed the appearance of a bewildered individual. Jeff kept his head lowered, while twirling a gold Cross pen in his left hand.
Lettie felt sorry for him. He had not only lost his wife but was also a prime suspect for murder. She could not imagine what must be going through his mind, and she wanted to talk with him desperately. Mustering her courage, she rose from her seat and walked the short distance to the lunch counter. "Excuse me, Jeff."
He slowly turned his head toward the intrusive voice.
"Jeff, I'm Lettie Balfour. I played in the Covered Bridgers with Charlotte. In fact, I'm the one who found her body and phoned you."
"Of course, I remember you," Jeff replied in a soft flat voice.
"I'm sitting in a booth over there. Would you care to join me?"
"Sure, it would be nice to have company."
Jeff followed Lettie to the small booth. This activity had not gone unnoticed by Mildred and Sally, and they were debating over who got to wait on Jeff. A flip of a coin settled the heated discussion. Mildred appeared at Jeff's elbow with a menu and announced the day's special.
"I'm not really hungry, but I suppose I need some nourishment."
"Really, you must eat especially during times of stress. Actually, I find it immensely comforting to eat a good meal. I can highly recommend the salmon cakes," Lettie helpfully suggested.
"Okay. I'll have the salmon and a cup of coffee."
"Mildred, bring me a cup of decaf with cream." Lettie was so engrossed in her need to talk to Jeff that she did not realize that she had insulted Mildred. Mildred knew that Lettie took her coffee decaffeinated after noon and with cream.
"I've never eaten here before, but I was at the police station and decided a walk might make me feel better. It is only a block's walk, but the fresh air felt good. I guess you know the police think I killed Charlotte."
"Yes, I know, Jeff. I feel so sorry for you and your family, and I'm going to miss Charlotte. I'm still strung out about finding her body. I had known her since high school."
"I didn't know you had known her that long. Since I grew up in Muncie, I never got to know many of her friends from her early years in Stafford. I really appreciate the fact that you and Sophie took the initiative to find Charlotte on Wednesday evening. I know it must have been difficult for you two to come upon her that way."
Tears began welling up in Jeff's eyes. He put his head in his hands. Her heart went out to him. If he were the murderer, he was doing a darn good job of acting.
Tears burst forth from Lettie's eyes, also. It was difficult for her to see this man so visibly distressed. For a few moments, they lapsed into their private thoughts about Charlotte. After a few minutes, Jeff composed himself and apologized. Lettie wiped her eyes on her napkin. She never had a Kleenex when she needed one.
Lettie decided to talk about happier times. She told Jeff some amusing anecdotes of their high school life in Stafford. "It's too bad Charlotte and I went our own ways after high school. The most contact we've had on a regular basis since then was in the bridge group."
"I like to hear stories about her. It makes me feel she's still alive." He got a distant look on his face and announced, "The coroner released her body this morning. I had them take her to Welburn Brothers Funeral Home. As soon as I'm finished at the police station, I'm going there to make some arrangements."
"Do you need someone to go with you?"
"No, I think I can handle things."
Lettie thought it sad that Jeff and Amelia couldn't comfort each other during this crisis. She wondered also why Jeff didn't have any close friends in Stafford.
"I hate it that you're all alone, Jeff. Can any of us help you in any way?"
"My parents and my sister are driving in from Muncie today. They had to make arrangements to get off work before they came. They will be a big help to me."
Lettie felt profound relief. At least he wouldn't be alone.
"How long are the police going to be questioning you?"
"I have no idea, but they are done for today. They keep going over the same things again and again. I guess they're trying to find some inconsistency in my story, but I swear by all that is holy that I didn't kill my wife. Of course, we had our little squabbles like all married people. I'm sure the town has me convicted because of the money angle, but actually I didn't have that much to gain by her death. Amelia still has controlling interest in the lumber company. I get twenty-five percent interest in the business and still have the position I have now, and I get the house. Char drew up a new will right after her parents' death."
Lettie felt guilty about ever suspecting Jeff of murdering Charlotte. He didn't act like a man who would want his wife dead. She wondered if there were unknown circumstances. Right now, Amelia loomed as the prime suspect.
"Jeff, I have been wondering about Amelia. She didn't seem very upset about her sister's death." "Amelia and Charlotte were like oil and water. They have entirely different personalities and goals. They were never bosom buddies, but they didn't hate each other, either. Amelia was a bit disgruntled after their parents died. She thought that she should have received controlling interest in the lumberyard. Since Char didn't really have any enthusiasm for the business, it was unclear to Amelia as to why their parents had divided ownership of the company. Personally, I think that they knew Amelia would continue to run the business, and they wanted to be fair to both girls. She got over her anger when she found out that Charlotte would take no active interest in the running of the company."
"I think it's awful that she is working today and not properly mourning her sister," Lettie interjected.
"Amelia uses her work as an escape. This is her way of working through her grief. Don't think too harshly of her. She did the same thing after her parents' death."
"I guess I find it odd."
Jeff's food arrived via Mildred's ample arms. She went back for the two cups of coffee. He ate like a basketball player after a triple overtime game, and Lettie was grateful he had relaxed enough to enjoy some food. Her mind returned to Amelia and the likelihood that she could have murdered her sister. It did seem, at least for now, that she had the most to gain from Charlotte's death. Lettie also wondered if Mitch had heard the results of the chemical testing. If she had time, she might stroll to the police station, both curiosity and anger driving her.
Mildred reappeared just as Jeff finished the last sip of his coffee and refilled both their cups. She removed Jeff's empty plate and asked if anyone wanted dessert. Today's treat was rhubarb pie. Lettie thought she had died and gone to heaven. Rhubarb pie was her favorite. Probably because rhubarb was available for such a limited time. Her mother made the best rhubarb cobblers in the world, but she had never acquired a talent for making any kind of pie crust--bread, yes, pie crust, no.
It seemed that temptation was everywhere these days. At least in the food department. She and Jeff ordered pie a la mode, and Lettie began worrying about the pie's effect on her already widening girth. Over pie and coffee, Jeff and Lettie exchanged more fond memories of Charlotte. She told Jeff things he had never heard and Jeff did the same for her. He actually seemed to have perked up a little since he had first appeared at the lunch counter.
Lettie looked at her watch and found that she had better get going so she could talk to Mitch and get back to the office to talk with Alvin.
"Where are you parked?"
"I'm in the garage behind the police department."
"Jeff, I'll walk with you. I need the exercise and I want to look at some shoes at Harris Shoe Emporium. Again, her fingers were crossed as she told another white lie. She didn't want to reveal that she wanted to see the same person who had been questioning him.
After a discussion over who should pay the bill, Jeff offering to pay for both, they agreed to go Dutch. They emerged into the bright sunshine of the spring day, which was so glorious it looked like nothing could be wrong in the whole world.
They slowly walked the short distance to the police department. Jeff peeled off at the corner to return to his car and promised to call Lettie when he got back home, so that she would know when to deliver food.