"Lettie, it's Gloria. For goodness sake, don't tell anyone what I told you this afternoon. It might get back to Lawrence. As you can tell, he's not very happy with me at the moment. If I hang up in a hurry, it's because he came in."
"I'm sure Sophie is going to bring up the subject. She is already suspicious after what happened at Charlotte's house."
"If you must, tell her and swear her to secrecy. I can't have this going any farther. That's assuming someone in Jeff's family doesn't spill the beans. I'd better get off the phone before Lawrence hears me."
Lettie had always believed Gloria was self-confident and self-assured. Was Lawrence an abuser? Gloria had been practically whimpering like a child. She was terrified of her husband.
Lettie could hardly wait to discuss the events of this afternoon with Sophie. However, when she delivered Sophie to her house on Prairie Drive earlier, she told Lettie she would be at the university helping Harold straighten files in his office. Harold, being a terribly disorganized individual, counted on Sophie twice a year to help him shovel through the mess in his office, and Sophie, being the ultimate in organizational skills, didn't mind the task.
Lettie had the sensation of a beaver gnawing on a piece of wood in the pit of her stomach. She looked in the refrigerator for something to snack on and found some blueberry nonfat yogurt. The yogurt should help her waistline after the miniature quiche. Of course, no food would be more help. After eating the yogurt, Lettie kicked off her shoes and sat down to knit. The myriad of hues in the colorful design comforted her.
Apprehensive about going to the funeral home this evening, she needed to prepare herself mentally for the visitation. She kept thinking about how Charlotte looked when she found her Wednesday night and soothed herself by knowing that she was going to look better this evening. However, she had never liked going to funeral homes and avoided the situation if at all possible.
Time passed quickly, and Lettie finished the left front of the tapestry leaf jacket, and now only the sleeves remained. By the end of next week barring any delays, it should be finished. While Lettie knitted, Sophie had called to discuss what happened that Saturday afternoon, specifically the revelations from Gloria. Of course, Lettie told her everything Gloria had recounted. The speculation between Sophie and Lettie ran rampant. Both agreed that Gloria was terrified of her husband for some reason. They ended their conversation after an hour's time and vowed to continue the discussion later.
Lettie slowly mounted her stairs and walked down the short hallway to her bedroom. She needed to change clothes and to check her makeup. After much deliberation, she chose a tailored ivory silk dress and a single strand of pearls. She added a white mohair shawl, which had been her first adventure into knitting lace. Ivory leather shoes completed the ensemble.
Her stomach growled, and Lettie knew there was nothing of value to eat in the house. Not in the mood to go out for something to eat, she forced herself to order a vegetarian pizza comforting herself with the fact that vegetables aren't fattening. She needed to consider a membership at the Y, she reflected. If she exercised, maybe she could continue eating at her current pace.
The Lamberts arrived at five to seven, and Lettie locked up and headed for their dark blue Volvo. The ever-dashing Harold opened the rear door for her. Harold Lambert was six foot six and slender. His scholarly appearance in his tweeds, beard, and horn-rimmed glasses reminded Lettie of her favorite literature professor. A calm, quiet individual, he was the perfect husband in Lettie's opinion.
His new baby, the Volvo, was the pride of his life these days. After having the practical station wagons and vans while their four sons lived at home, he decided it was time for him and Sophie to have a more sophisticated car.
Relieved to be going with someone to this unhappy occasion, Lettie, however, couldn't contain her uneasiness over the situation. Of course, Mitch would be there, but he would be working. The trio rode in relative silence during the trip. Lettie didn't feel like bringing up Gloria's plight while Harold was around. He thought gossiping was a waste of time. His only fault, Lettie thought.
Harold soon discovered that securing a parking space at Welburn Brothers Funeral Home would not be easy. The lot looked full. In fact, a private duty security man was on hand to direct traffic and to assist with parking. Harold Lambert circled the lot several times before locating a space.
"Everyone in town must be here," he muttered.
"Did you expect anything else?" queried Sophie.
"I suppose not. I just don't want the car getting scratched."
Harold, the consummate gentlemen, had both women firmly attached to each arm as he escorted them to the front door of the funeral home. Lettie's knees wobbled and her free hand twirled a lock of hair. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her nerves.
The funeral director came up to the trio to ask which individual they were visiting and directed them to the largest room at Welburn Brothers. They each, in turn, signed their name to the guest register and proceeded through the white double doors.
The room overflowed with people. Lettie, because she suffered from claustrophobia, felt her body tense and knew her emotions would overtake her if she didn't do something soon. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She felt like she was smothering. Trying to avoid hyperventilating, she took several deep breaths. She concentrated on finding Mitch.
Sophie noticed that Lettie was a little green around the gills and asked her if she wanted to go get a drink of water. Sophie, well aware of Lettie's fears, escorted her from the room before she could answer. She navigated Lettie to the nearest restroom and propelled her through the swinging door. Mercifully, a small sitting area was available, and Sophie pushed Lettie into the nearest seat.
"Put your head between your legs."
"What?"
"You're pale as a ghost." Sophie thought this was probably not the best place to use that phrase. "Put your head between your legs."
Lettie did as she was told and Sophie clamped a wet paper towel to her forehead. "I feel so foolish."
"Nonsense. You've always been this way with crowds. The fact that the crowd is at a funeral home just compounds the problem. Now take a few more deep breaths."
Lettie obeyed by taking slow, deep breaths. Her body began to relax a little.
"I'm beginning to feel better now."
"All right, but get up slowly."
Lettie slowly raised her head from her lap and took several more deep breaths. She felt strong compare to a few minutes ago.
"Do you feel like going back? Your color looks much better."
"I'll be all right, I think. I'll just stay in the back of the room by the door."
"Okay, then. Let's go back. I'll keep an eye on you."
As it turned out, the back of the room seemed a popular spot. Mitch and his partner took positions near the door so they could observe everyone who entered. Mitch winked at Lettie as she reentered the room, and she wondered why she didn't notice him when she first arrived. Two large gold brocade couches flanked the doors, so Lettie took up residence on one.
"Were you having a problem with the crowd?" Mitch said in a comforting voice.
"Did you see what happened?" Lettie was embarrassed. "My claustrophobia has not improved with age."
"As you, no doubt, have," Mitch joked.
This brought a smile to Lettie's face. The first of the day.
"It's good to see you smile."
"Mitch, I know you're on duty, but I've got so much to tell you."
"We can talk later."
Lettie began feeling more at ease. With the frequent opening and closing of the doors, the room didn't seem as oppressive. Her next hurdle was to muster up enough courage to pay respects to the family. Since she was calmer, she began to notice her surroundings. Jeff and his parents stood beside the white casket which rested at the center front of the large room.
The entire family looked distraught. Amelia talked with Alvin Crabtree and Sherman Watkins. She, for the first time since Charlotte's death, looked haggard. Her dress was candy pink with a matching pink jacket, but she wore little makeup and her eyes were red rimmed. Her dark circles suggested to Lettie that she had gotten little sleep. She looked far better last night at the Harbor Inn, Lettie noted. Lettie gave herself a little pep talk, took yet another deep breath, stood up, and started down the center aisle. This room also served as the chapel for Welburn Brothers and contained pews like in a church. Three hundred people could be accommodated if needed. Lettie looked at Mitch for moral support and continued her trek. She kept her eyes focused on Amelia, her boss and her co-worker. Alvin and Mr. Watkins were turned to leave, so Lettie speeded up to reach the threesome.
"Hello, Mr. Watkins. Hello, Alvin."
Both men returned greetings and moved to sit in one of the pews. Lettie expressed her condolences to Amelia and apologized for not talking to her at Charlotte's house that afternoon.
She explained. "I got sidetracked talking to Jeff's parents. They were so upset that Gloria Spencer was at the house that I completely forgot my manners."
"That's all right, Lettie. They have a right to be upset with Gloria. She used to date Jeff, you know."
"I didn't know until this afternoon. Gloria told me on our way home."
"If you ask me, I think she's still hung up on him." Amelia didn't seem pleased.
"Why do you say that? She told me she broke up with him, because she wanted to date others."
"No! Jeff broke up with her." Amelia was emphatic. "Jeff told me all about it one day in the office."
"Did Charlotte know that they had dated?"
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so. She never mentioned it."
"Hi girls."
It was Jordan Watkins. He chitchatted with Lettie about the real estate business while keeping his arm around Amelia's waist the entire time. Lettie thought that this romance was looking far more serious than Alvin Crabtree had surmised. After deciding Jordan was not going to leave anytime soon and that she would not be able to discuss further the details of Jeff and Gloria's affair, she excused herself and walked over to Jeff and his family.
Lettie avoided actually looking at the body until Jeff propelled her to the side of the casket. Tears welled up in Lettie's eyes. Charlotte looked peaceful and a darn sight better than she had on Wednesday night, but why had she been murdered and by whom? Jeff and Lettie turned away, and she noticed tears streaming down his face. He surely was not the murderer.
She excused herself after talking to the remainder of the family members and made her way to the back of the room. Tears now streamed down her face. She rifled through her purse looking for a tissue, when a large tanned hand appeared with a white monogrammed handkerchief. "M C" it stated.
"Here. You never do seem to have a tissue when you need one."
He put his arms around her and held her tight. She sobbed into his muscular shoulder. Sophie arrived with Harold in tow to check if she needed assistance.
"I'll be all right. I will just sit back here on the couch."
Her nerves jangled, she still had enough presence of mind to be puzzled at the same time. Why would Gloria have lied to her about Jeff, or was Amelia lying? She wished she didn't have to wait until Mitch was off duty to talk.
Sophie told her they were ready to leave. Mitch was close by and said he would take Lettie home if she wanted to wait until after nine. Lettie told Sophie to go on, but that she had to talk with her first thing the next day. She needed to tell her good friend about Amelia's revelation.
After the Lamberts left, Lettie was busy the rest of the evening talking to the many citizens of Stafford whom she had known for years and who had come to pay their respects to Charlotte's family. Mitch and she said goodbye to Bob Welburn, Frank's brother, as he closed up for the night. Lettie wondered how someone became interested in being a mortician. Of course, the Welburn family was on its third generation as funeral directors.
"How about a hamburger from our favorite spot? I'm starved. I didn't have any dinner." Lettie realized that she was rather hungry herself. The turmoil of this evening had evidently caused her body to burn up the calories from the four slices of pizza she had eaten earlier.
"It sounds wonderful. You know, I love Mark's hamburgers."
Mark's made their hamburgers from freshly ground beef and served them with sautéed onions. The menu was a limited one concentrating on sandwiches and their accompaniments. Popular with locals and students alike, Mark’s had been a local institution for nearly forty years. Most people would classify Mark's as a hole in the wall. A more popular spot than any of the fast food chains, most of its business was carryout. Seating was sparse and orders were taken at a counter, an idea far ahead of its time.
Mitch escorted Lettie to a booth and proceeded to the counter. A stranger would surmise from the abundance of nicks, scuffs, and permanent stains on the gray counter that it needed a good cleaning. However, Mitch knew the owners, and they kept a squeaky-clean establishment. The counter was the original, and Mark and Jane Malcolm had left it in place to give the eatery character.
Mitch ordered six hamburgers, two orders of fries, and two large coffees from the effervescent girl behind the counter. He knew that Lettie could eat two sandwiches and an order of fries. After a short amount of time, he received the food in a white paper bag and carried it to Lettie. Their booth was the last of six red leatherette booths positioned along the windows at the front of the small building. Lettie wolfed down the two burgers and a few of the French fries. She felt like a pig, but she hadn't had a Mark's burger in a long time. She loved the darned things and was glad that she didn't get a craving for them often. This latest addition to her digestive tract wouldn't enhance her weight loss. The Y was definitely going to become a reality at this rate.
During their dinner, Lettie told Mitch the story of Gloria and Jeff and then the conflicting information given as to who had broken up with whom.
"Do you think any of this has anything to do with the murder?" Lettie quizzed Mitch.
"It could have, and I still haven't questioned Gloria."
"Boy, is she going to have a fit. She about had a stroke about being finger printed. She's afraid her husband will find out about her being arrested at a peace rally during the time she attended college."
"He doesn't sound like a very forgiving soul."
"She seems to be afraid of him. When I let her out today, he was quite surly about her being gone so long."
"I still need to talk with her whether she likes it or not. So far we've pretty much eliminated Jeff and Amelia as suspects and that information goes no further. The colder a trail gets the less likely we'll find the murderer."
"What is Amelia's alibi for Wednesday?"
"Aside from the time she took the papers for Charlotte to sign, she was either at work or with Jordan Watkins."
"Well, Jordan and she seem to be thick as thieves, so he might lie for her."
"That's certainly a possibility."
Mark's closed at ten, so Lettie and Mitch told Mark goodbye and drove to her condo. The evening had grown cooler and Lettie wore the shawl. However, Mitch put his arm around her to make sure she was warm as they strolled together up her front walk.
Lettie decided it felt good to have a strong arm around her shoulders this evening. She guessed she had never liked living alone even though she was an independent person. After Renee left for college, there was a void in her life, and her condo was quiet as a tomb. Her friends and parents lived in Stafford, but that wasn't the same as having someone you cared for living in you household. She verified that year what she already had known--she was not a woman of the nineties.
Lettie unlocked her front door, walked in and simultaneously discarded her shawl and shoes. Mitch removed his navy pinstriped suit jacket and red tie in record time. Lettie was glad no one could see in her windows. They would think a strip tease was ongoing. Mitch sat on her floral patterned sofa, and Lettie went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.
While the coffee brewed, she and Mitch discussed the various individuals who had been at the funeral home that evening. Of course, half of Stafford was there. Lettie thought it odd that Gloria and Lawrence Spencer had not shown up especially since Lawrence played golf with Jeff Downey. She wondered if it had anything to do with their little misunderstanding that afternoon. "I keep having this bad feeling about Gloria and Lawrence Spencer," Lettie remarked. "I feel there is something wrong in their marriage."
"Don't overreact. All husbands and wives have their squabbles. Maybe they were having a bad day."
"Yes, but she has seemed terrified of him on more than one occasion. I still wonder if that were her car at the park today, and, if so, why would she be there at the same time as Jeff?"
"I'm going to bring her in for questioning tomorrow and maybe I can straighten out a few things. I want to catch the murderer as much as you do, but I think we ought to get down to some personal business."
Lettie happily agreed and got up to fill two coffees mugs and turned on her stereo and tuned it to the local oldies station. She returned to the couch and sat down next to Mitch. His arm snaked its way around her shoulders. She cuddled next to him enjoying the warmth emanating from his body while listening to Sonny and Cher sing "I Got You Babe." How appropriate, Lettie thought.
Mitch initiated the discussion. "I feel a little awkward but here goes. I know I have no right to ask you this question since I'm still legally married. However, I really am enjoying being with you again and would like to make our dating a permanent arrangement. I don't have anything to offer you but myself, but as soon as I'm divorced we could talk about the future."
Lettie's heart began to pound. She was not the type to make important decisions on the spur of the moment. Even though she enjoyed being with Mitch, the thought of getting involved with a married man went against her basic morals. She thought awhile before speaking.
"I haven't had such a good time since I've been divorced as I've had with you this week. You know how hard it is for me to make important decisions, and my emotions are in a turmoil. I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, though. I'm lonely without someone in the house, but I don't want to commit to anything because of that. I want to make sure that my feelings for you are genuine, so I would rather take things one day at a time. Also, there is the matter of your being married. I don't make commitments to married men."
Was this really coming out of her mouth? Was she crazy? Mitch looked better than Robert Redford in her eyes, and he was still as nice as he had been in high school. However, she had dated a man who was separated who went back to his wife. He and Lettie had been rather serious and she didn't want to get hurt like that again. Until divorce papers are signed, anything can happen. Also, she needed to reevaluate her feelings when she didn't have Charlotte's death on her mind.
"Let's just play things by ear," Mitch said, getting Lettie off the hook. "I really feel strongly about you and would love for us to get together again, but not for the wrong reasons."
They cuddled, kissed, and listened to music until the wee hours of the morning. Both of them were beat. They both had endured a long day, but neither one wanted to say goodbye. After a lengthy kiss, Mitch left. Lettie's thoughts suddenly turned to her marriage. Doug had seemed to be a wonderful person while they dated but changed after they married. He somehow controlled his temper and drinking problem during the dating period. Mitch had always been kind and sweet but did he have a dark side, also? Why were he and Belinda divorcing? As if she didn't have enough information to digest, now this quandary faced her.
Exhaustion overcame her, and she hastily got ready for bed. She slept restlessly.