Hark! The Herald Angel Screamed: An Augusta Goodnight Mystery (with Heavenly Recipes) (26 page)

was trying to decide what to wear to Opal Henshaw’s visitation when Claudia phoned the next morning. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you last night,” she said, “but I was late getting home from the staff party. What’s all this I hear about Idonia going off like that?”

I told her what Idonia’s note had said and how we had gone to the police.

“Where in the world do you reckon she went? Have you heard anything more?”

“Not yet, but I’m hoping she’ll get in touch with Jennifer or Nathan,” I said. “Did you have a chance to talk with that girl who goes to the Tanseys’ church?”

“Helen Harlan. She said Louella was at choir practice when Idonia’s locket was stolen. They had an extra rehearsal that night to get ready for Christmas.”

“So much for that theory,” I said to Augusta, after assuring Claudia I’d let her know if I heard any more. “I was sure Louella Tansey was the one who took that locket.”

Augusta clicked the remote and put her video exercise on pause. “Why Louella?”

“You saw the film from Ralph Snow’s camera the same as I did,” I said. “Remember how he focused on people in the entrance hall toward the end of the evening? The only men who even came near those stairs were our minister, Pete Whittaker, and Andy Collins, the man who plays the dulcimer, and I can’t imagine why either of them would snatch Idonia’s locket. The rest were women.”

Augusta resumed her ritual, bending to touch one foot and then the other. “Perhaps, as Ben suggests, Opal Henshaw’s brother will be able to explain the significance of the locket. I hope there will be an opportunity for you to speak with him at the service this afternoon.”

“Or even earlier,” I said. “Ellis and I will be on the lookout for him at the visitation this morning, and some of us will be staying to serve lunch to out-of-town friends and family who show up.” I had taken one of Augusta’s pound cakes out of the freezer and Jo Nell was bringing her “Joyed-It” jam cake to serve with the fruit and sandwich trays we’d ordered.

I saw Ellis’s car pull up out back before I even put on my makeup and glanced at the clock to see if I was running late. “You’re early,” I said as she breezed in through the kitchen, stopping to drop the latest Sarah Strohmeyer mystery on the table.

“This is such a good read, I thought Augusta might like it,” she said, helping herself to a slice of banana bread left from breakfast. “I know I’m early, but thought maybe you might’ve heard something from Idonia.”

“Nothing yet but it’s still early. I’d give anything to know what went on out at the Tanseys’ yesterday.”

Ellis plopped on the side of my bed and examined her leg. “Damn! I’ve got a run in these blasted pantyhose. Got an extra pair?”

I tossed her one of several I had invested in at the Budget Shop
and she kicked off her shoes and shimmied into them. “I’ll bet I know somebody who might tell us something,” she said.

“If you mean Weigelia, there’s not enough time in the day to drag it out of her.”

She grinned. “Not if you have the right bait. She’s been after me for ages for that old photograph my great-uncle Pruitt made of one of the first black schools in town way back when he had a studio here. I’ll have a copy made for me and let her have the original. She ought to have it anyway since a couple of her grandparents went there.”

I blotted my lipstick and found some simple gold earrings I thought suitable for the occasion. “Go for it,” I said, hunting for my purse. “But don’t take long. We want to have plenty of time to track down Opal’s brother Terrance.”

I brushed my hair and changed shoes three times before Ellis finally hung up the phone. “Well?” I said.

“I don’t think she knew much more than we do, but Weigelia said Kemper seemed kind of upset about it. He went out there with Alonzo Hardy after they talked to Al Evans and it sounded like the Tanseys were pretty torn up over it. From what Kemper said, she—Louella—got all weepy, and Preacher Dave just turned kind of pale and clammed up.”

“What about Jeremiah?”

Ellis shrugged. “I don’t think Jeremiah was there at the time.”

“Are they planning to arrest anybody?” I said.

“Doesn’t sound like it. I doubt if they have enough evidence—yet, but Weigelia thinks something’s brewing.”

I hadn’t been to Willowbrook since the morning Ben and I went there for my Christmas tree and were greeted by ghostly music. “I know they’ve boarded up the house, but I’m still curious about those hidden stairs. Wonder if the police ever checked that out again.”

“If they didn’t, I’ll bet they will now,” Ellis said.

Opal Henshaw and her late husband Virgil had belonged to Stone’s Throw Presbyterian Church for as long as I could remember, and I was baptized there, so the line to pay condolences had already snaked out the door of the fellowship hall and people were clustered on the walkway by the time Ellis and I arrived. I passed my cake along to one of the circle members in charge of today’s lunch and turned up the collar of my coat to wait along with the others, waving to Nettie and Jo Nell who were ahead of us in line.

As we shuffled slowly along I caught snatches of murmured conversation about the circumstances surrounding Opal’s death, and since most people knew we were in the choir, Ellis and I received several sympathetic pats and words of condolence for having experienced the trauma of finding her.

Oohs and aahs of approval rose when Geraldine Overton passed us on her way in the fellowship hall with an arrangement of daisies and white chrysanthemums for the table, and Ellis poked me from behind. “Opal will be whirling in her grave when she finds out that’s not artificial,” she whispered.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Myra Jennings and her daughter Alice working their way up to where we stood and wasn’t surprised later when I felt a firm grip on my arm.

“I heard Idonia Mae had a frightful scare the other night out at Bellawood,” Myra bellowed loud enough to wake those in the cemetery behind the church. “Is she going to be all right?”

I saw Ellis bite her lip and look quickly away. “Yes, thank you, Myra. She’s doing fine.”

Alice stuck her face so close to mine I could tell she’d had sausage for breakfast. “What was the matter with her? I heard she was
poisoned!”

“It was something she ate, but Dr. Smiley says she’s going to be okay,” I said. Thank goodness the line surged forward just then and Ellis and I were able to inch inside the hall and leave them behind. If these two heard Idonia had disappeared, we’d never see the last of them.

“I think somebody’s trying to get your attention on the other side of the room,” someone ahead of us said, and I looked up to see Nathan Culpepper waving to us from the table by the kitchen where coffee was being served.

“Maybe he’s heard from Idonia,” Ellis said as we hurried over together, but as soon as I saw his face, I knew the news wasn’t good.

“Any word?” I asked, trying to shield him from curious eyes.

“Nothing.” Nathan sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m about ready to get in my car and start scouting the countryside.” He poured coffee for Ellis and me and offered it silently. “The police told me you saw this Melrose fellow in Georgia. What was he doing there?”

“Beats me, unless he was doing the same thing we—uh—I was, which was trying to find out more about the Tanseys. I believe he was in Soso about the same time I was there. That’s where the family lived before they came to Stone’s Throw, and later he turned up at the mall in Commerce.”

Nathan frowned. “And why, if I might ask, did you decide to go there?”

I took my time stirring sweetener into my coffee before answering, wondering all the while if Idonia had told Nathan there were doubts about the locket’s origin, but as Nettie would say, the shit had already hit the fan. There was no holding back now.

“We think the locket Melrose gave your mother for Christmas might have originally belonged to one of the Tanseys,” I began.

“You mean the man
stole
it?” Coffee sloshed as Nathan set down his cup.

“I don’t know about that, but Dave Tansey was helping to park
cars at Bellawood the night your mother was drugged and we believed there was a possibility a member of his family put that sleeping mixture in her drink,” I said. “I thought if I talked with some of the people who knew them in Soso where he lived before, we might find out something about their background. After all, they’re living out there at Willowbrook where a man died recently from a suspicious fall from a balcony.” I didn’t go into the fact that Dinah Tansey had been married to him.

“And Preacher Dave was seen at the church the night Opal died,” Ellis added.

“Then, by God, why don’t they arrest the man?” Nathan spoke so loudly several people turned to stare and Ellis and I hustled him into the kitchen where a couple of women from our circle arranged food on platters. I noticed that Anna Caldwell had brought her cream cheese salad with pineapple, apples, and pecans and hoped there might be at least a smidgen left for us.

We assured Nathan that the police probably didn’t have enough evidence to arrest anyone yet but we had it on good authority (Weigelia’s) that it would only be a matter of time.

“Meanwhile, my mother is who-knows-where with a man who might be not only a thief but a murderer as well!” he said.

Ellis was trying to convince Nathan to go back to Idonia’s and wait in case his mother returned or tried to contact him there when the people who had been in line behind us signaled to tell us they had almost made their way to the front. As we hurried over I looked back to see him disappear through the door to the main part of the church and hoped he didn’t intend to find Dave Tansey and confront him.

Ellis looked over my shoulder as we waited to speak to what was left of Opal Henshaw’s family. “Which one do you think is her brother?” she whispered.

I shook my head. There were only a few people in the receiving line and none of them looked familiar to me.

I introduced myself to a matronly woman who looked as if all she wanted to do in this world was to sit down, and I didn’t blame her. She turned out to be the sister of Opal’s husband, Virgil, who died the summer before, and the younger man standing next to her, I learned, was her son. The son’s wife, a teenaged boy, and two smaller girls comprised the family.

“Can you believe Opal’s own brother didn’t even come to her funeral?” Ellis said as we made our way back to the kitchen to help with lunch. “We’ll have enough food left over to feed the multitudes.”

And enough of Anna’s salad left for us, I thought, eyeing the creamy squares on a platter of crisp green lettuce. But how were we going to get in touch with Opal’s brother in Knoxville?

I kept an eye on the door the whole time we served the family, hoping that Terrance Banks would put in an appearance, but he didn’t show. Ellis and I stayed after the meal to divide what was left of the food to take to some of the shut-ins in the community so the main sanctuary was full when we arrived for the service and we were directed to the balcony. Thank goodness we didn’t have to sit on the first row because the only thing I could think of was poor Opal Henshaw tumbling over the railing.