An Angel to Die For Page 12

  Then I heard a sweet murmur from the seat behind her and saw the sleeping child. He was in a child restraint seat, as he should be, of course. I hadn’t thought of that, but even in the darkness I could see he was a Dobson. My sister’s own child. Joey.

  I reached out to him, spoke his name, swallowing my tears. If I cried it might frighten him.

  “Shh! He’s sleeping. Don’t wake him.” Ola glanced back at the little boy with such love and pride on her face, I realized Pershing Gaines might not be my fiercest opponent. “He’s just getting over a cold, and he didn’t take much of a nap.” And then her voice softened as if she realized she might be treading on sensitive ground. “You know, I believe he looks a bit like you.”

  I closed the door behind me and sat in the darkened car with no sound but that of the rising wind and the rain thudding on the roof. I was really here within touching distance of my own flesh and blood! Maggie’s baby. Finally. I had to let the reality sink in.

  “Looks like March will be coming in like a lion,” Ola said, breaking the silence. I could see she was struggling, just as I was, about how to approach the subject of Joey’s future. “I hope that wasn’t too much of a shock to you finding my cousin had died,” she added with a nod toward the house across the street. “Believe me, I didn’t know. She was one of those people you just assume will live forever, and I thought of meeting here as sort of a last resort. When I called to let her know we were coming, I learned that number was no longer in service. You can imagine my distress when I called my brother and he told me the poor soul had died!”

  “I’ll have to admit, it did shake me up,” I said. “I’m sorry about your cousin.”

  “I shouldn’t have been surprised. She was well into her eighties. I’m just sorry I didn’t keep in touch. Life is all too brief and it surprises us around every turn . . . but then I think you know that.”

  The baby stirred before I could reply and Ola reached back and tucked a blanket around him. “He should be in bed. I’ve a room—a small suite really—in a little place not far from here. Could you follow me? Do you mind? We could talk there.”

  And you could lose me in the traffic and lead me up another blind alley. I looked back at Joey, his tiny fingers curled in a fist beneath his chin. We couldn’t sit here all night. I would have to trust this woman. But I would follow so closely she’d think she had a Siamese twin!

  “Don’t worry. I’ll drive slowly so you can follow,” Ola said, as if she read my thoughts. “Wait, I think I have a card with the address.” She fumbled in her purse and produced a business card with the name of a motel in a town not too far over the Georgia line. At least we would be on the way home.

  “I’m going to need your help.” There was an urgency in her voice.

  I nodded, still reluctant to leave my nephew in her care. Yet Joey was familiar with Ola Cress; for weeks she had been the only caretaker he knew. I was the stranger here.

  The woman touched my arm. “I don’t blame you for being concerned, but you’re going to have to believe me. I want what’s best for Joey. I just can’t run anymore.”

  “You drive. I’ll navigate,” Augusta said when I scooted under the wheel of my car. “Get closer so I can read her license plate.”

  “Why, Augusta, I do believe you’ve been reading detective stories,” I said. “You’re getting to be a regular Sherlock Holmes.”

  “Hmm, well, Arthur had a few problems with that first one. Plot development and such. Don’t mind saying I gave him a hint or two.”

  “Arthur . . .?”

  “Conan Doyle. You know. The man who wrote the series. Let me tell you, there were times when we both despaired, but it worked out well, don’t you think? Only I do wish he’d left out that part about Sherlock smoking dope!” Augusta stuffed her needlework back into her bag and held onto the door grip. “She’s turning right at the next corner. Step on it, Prentice, I believe we’re gaining on her.”

  I was glad it was too dark for her to see my smile. Ola Cress wasn’t driving above forty and I was close enough to read the name of the company where she’d bought the car.

  Still, I was relieved an hour later when we pulled into the near-empty parking lot of The Dogwood Inn.

  Since neither of us had eaten, I picked up sandwiches at the motel coffee shop while Ola got Joey ready for bed. Ola’s rooms were as she had described them: comfortable but nothing fancy. The bedroom, just large enough for a double bed and the baby’s crib, led off of a small sitting area and kitchenette. A playpen took up one corner of the living room, toys were scattered about, and a quick look in the kitchen cabinets revealed a good supply of baby food and formula. It appeared as if Ola Cress was prepared to stay awhile.

  “Would you like to give Joey his bottle?” Ola asked. “You’ll find one ready in the refrigerator. Just zap it for about ten seconds in the microwave.”

  I hadn’t baby-sat since my college days, but I did remember how to heat a bottle, shake it, and test a drop on my arm. My nephew made his entrance howling and clung to Ola for dear life until he saw I had the bottle. I held out my arms and bribed him with milk, and from then on, it was a piece of cake. I sat across from Ola at the small kitchen table while Joey drained his seven ounces, burped obligingly, and dropped off to sleep in my arms. Finally, Ola, seeing I wasn’t going to give him up voluntarily, picked up the sleeping infant and tucked him into bed.

  “Thank you,” I said when she returned.

  “For what?”

  “For letting me hold him, feed him.”

  Ola opened a couple of soft drinks and found plates for our sandwiches. “He has to get used to you. I can’t just abandon him with someone he doesn’t know.” She pulled out a chair and sat across from me, but didn’t touch her food. “I didn’t know what else to do,” she said, grabbing a paper napkin to blot her tears.

  “You made the right decision, and we’ll work things out, we’ll have to. There’s no reason you have to leave right away. Why not come back to Smokerise with me for a while? That’s our home in Liberty Bend.”

  Ola Cress smiled. “I know. Your sister told me. She loved that place, missed it.” She broke off a piece of her sandwich and looked at it, then put it back on her plate. “But we’ll have to be careful of the Gaineses you know. It’s only a matter of time before they trace me here; I expect they already have. I’m sure that was one of Sonny’s family who followed me this morning when I was on my way to the mall. Had to go through all sorts of maneuvers to get rid of him.”

  I frowned. “Him? Are you sure it was a man?”

  “Didn’t let them get close enough to find out. Why?”

  “Because Sonny’s aunt met me there at the fountain. At first I thought it was you. She must have followed me there.”

  “Or somebody told her where to find you.” Ola nibbled at her sandwich.

  “But nobody knew.” I looked up at her. “Tisdale Humphreys! But he wouldn’t. I just don’t believe it.”

  “Then who else could it be?” Ola asked.

  “Maybe somebody overheard . . . the wallpaper hanger! He told me he was having the upstairs hall repapered. But why would a stranger care? He probably doesn’t even know you.”

  “This one would. There are no strangers in Ruby, Tennessee, and there’s only one person who’s skilled enough to suit Tisdale Humphreys: Roy Henry Trimble, Jackie Trimble’s brother.”

  Jackie Trimble. For a moment the name drew a blank, and then I remembered the woman who had worked with Maggie at The Toy Box Child Care Center, the one who wanted to find Ola Cress. “But I never told Mr. Humphreys we were meeting at the mall,” I said.

  Ola sighed. “I’m afraid I did. I just thought he ought to know—in case you had trouble finding it or something. And of course I didn’t think about it, but Roy Henry must’ve been there then too. I heard Tisdale warn somebody about being careful with a mirror.”

  “I don’t understand why Jackie Trimble would want Sonny’s family to have Joey,” I said. “Is s
he related to them or something?”

  Ola made a face as if she’d eaten something rotten. “Money,” she said. “Money pure and simple. If it’s one of that Trimble bunch, you can rest assured the Gaineses have made it worth their while to snoop.” Ola hammered out her words with obvious distaste.

  I groaned. “They’ve probably followed us here too. Maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I feel like we’re surrounded by a whole troop of Gaines spies on twenty-four-hour duty!”

  “Then they must know where you live as well.” Ola shoved her plate away. She looked like she was ready to cry. I wouldn’t blame her.

  “True, but once we get Joey on our own property we’ll have a better chance of keeping him. They can’t just march in and take him away from his own relatives.”

  Ola spoke quietly. “Prentice, they’re his relatives too.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  We left before dawn. Ola had loaned me a blanket, a pillow, and the small sofa in her sitting area for the night, but I think I would have been more comfortable in my car. From all we’d learned about the Gaines gang, I half expected them to come bursting through the door and snatch Joey away from us. And to tell the truth, I wasn’t completely trusting of Ola Cress.

  It was dark when we left The Dogwood Inn and headed for the Interstate, and I almost went cross-eyed trying to keep Ola’s car in sight behind us.

  Beside me Augusta yawned. “I could do with a cup of coffee. It’s hard to keep that woman’s car in view when I can’t hold my eyes open.”

  “There’s no place to stop,” I said. “And besides, there isn’t time. The Gaineses could be right behind us.”

  Augusta tweaked her cheeks, did something to her hair, and sat a little straighter. “You’re perfectly right, of course. I’m afraid I’m a bit selfish when it comes to my morning coffee. We had to do without it, you know, during the war days.”

  “Which war days?” I knew ten times over, but I could tell she wanted me to ask.

  “World War Two, of course, the last big one. So many things were rationed, hard to come by, but I especially missed coffee. Nothing makes you want something more than being told you can’t have it.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. I sensed a lesson here—for my benefit of course, but the angel’s words rang true. Did I want Rob McCullough because I didn’t think I could have him? I didn’t have time to dwell on it now because Ola was blinking her lights as a signal she needed to stop.

  We pulled off into the parking lot of a fast food hamburger restaurant where Augusta got her wish for coffee while Ola fed Joey his morning bottle. “I’m supposed to be weaning him onto a cup, but the little tyrant won’t have any part of it,” Ola said, wiping the baby’s mouth with a paper napkin. And I had an idea that if Joey had demanded his bottle served on a silver tray with orchestral accompaniment, Ola would have at least made an effort to comply.

  It was getting light when we left the restaurant and turned south for home and I suspected every car that trailed us to have a sneaky Gaines lurking inside. Not until I glimpsed the comforting silhouette of Smokerise at the end of our long, curving driveway did I begin to allow myself to relax.

  And then I saw the car parked behind the house where no car should be, and if Ola hadn’t been close behind me, I’d have jammed on my brakes and turned around.

  A small white sedan with Georgia license plates seemed to have made itself at home to the left of the back steps where Mom always used to park, and as peeved as I was with my mother, I still resented the impudence of this intruder. For a moment I even forgot to be wary of a Gaines ambush.

  Whoever it was must be inside the house because a light shone from the kitchen and I thought I could see someone moving about. Was our mysterious prowler back for another breakfast and bath? But how did he get in?

  I had one foot out of the car when Augusta put a hand on my arm. “Wait! Watch before you jump, Prentice.”

  I looked down to see what I should watch. “Meaning?”

  “You don’t know who’s in there, and the child’s safety must come first, so don’t go looking for trouble. Signal Ola to follow, then turn around and find a place to call the police. Quickly now!”

  Was Augusta getting bossier or what? But she was right. That might be one of Sonny’s relatives in there, or the ghoul who made off with Uncle Faris and left another corpse in his place. We had to get Joey safely out of the way.

  I heard the screen door slam and looked up to see a figure dash across the back porch and down the steps. Noodles streaked in front of me in a gray blur and almost used up another of her lives as I missed her by inches in my rush to get away.

  “Prentice! Where are you going? Come back!” I looked over my shoulder at the woman pursuing me. Her short dark hair was trimmed just below the ears and bounced when she ran—just like my mother’s; she wore my mother’s ratty yellow bathrobe. She was my mother!

  I decided to wait until we were all inside to introduce her to her grandson.

  Mom wrapped me in her arms and held me for the longest time. “I thought you’d gone to Alaska,” I said, crying in spite of myself.

  “Got as far as Seattle, then turned around and caught a plane to Atlanta, rented a car, and here I am.”

  “But why?”

  “Prentice, I can read. Grabbed a paper in the Savannah Airport to read on the plane, and there it was! Why didn’t you tell me what’s been going on here?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you. Besides, what could you do?”

  “I could be here for you for one thing, at least give you moral support. Hey, who’s the mother here?” She gave me a tight little smile and squeezed my fingers. “Come on, let’s go inside, then you can fill me in. Why, I had to jimmy a window on the back porch to get inside! Forgot you’d changed the locks.”

  Ola remained in her car with Joey, obviously not knowing what to do, and now my mother looked at them curiously, then smiled. “Have any of you had breakfast? I was just getting ready to stir up something, and I know you’ll want to get that precious ‘lamb-baby’ out of this chill.”

  Lamb-baby. The almost-forgotten term made me lose my breath for a minute. It was what she used to call Maggie until my sister reached kindergarten age and begged her to stop. “I’m not a lamb, and I’m not a baby!” she’d say. But if Mother realized what she’d said, she didn’t show it.

  “Ola and the baby are going to be staying with us for a while,” I said as we helped to carry Joey’s things inside. A sense of quiet joy settled about me, and although I couldn’t see her, I knew Augusta was there.

  “How nice! I’m glad to have them.” My mother’s smile was genuine. She liked babies, all babies, and was she ever going to love this one! I smiled too.

  Joey had rice cereal with applesauce while Mom served the rest of us scrambled eggs and grits. “What a healthy appetite he has!” she observed. “He really is a beautiful child.” My mother smiled at Ola Cress. “Is this your grandson?”

  Ola looked at me expectantly.

  “No, Mom, he’s yours,” I said, and told her how I had found him.

  Ola and I cleared away the breakfast dishes while Mom rocked Joey in the same cane-bottomed chair she’d used to lull my sister and me to sleep. Listening to her, for a little while, I didn’t once think of Sonny Gaines’s lurking relatives or the grisly episodes in our own backyard. My mother’s happiness spread over me like balm, and if ever I sensed an angel’s presence, I sensed it now.

  A loud knocking at the door jolted me back into the here and now, and Mom appeared in the hallway with the sleeping baby on her shoulder. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she whispered. “That must be Ralphine. I’d asked her to come over and help me clean this morning, but the house looks like somebody beat her to it.”

  I shrugged. “Had a little time on my hands.”

  “And these kitchen curtains—what a difference they make, Prentice! Honey, I didn’t know you could sew like that.”

  Fortunately I didn’t have to answer because M
om opened the door for Ralphine Totherow and immediately began telling her about Joey. “I thought we could get Maggie’s old crib down from the attic and maybe fix up her room for a nursery,” my mother said, ushering Ralphine into the house. “I think I still have that old high chair, Prentice—the one we bought for you.”

  “My gosh, Mom, it’s not exactly an antique,” I said.

  “And of course we’ll need curtains for the baby’s room—a cute little nursery print, I think . . .” She flitted about like a butterfly, pausing now and then, but not lighting anywhere. “My goodness, I don’t even know a good pediatrician!”

  “Mom,” I said, “settle down for a minute, will you? I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that.” I told her what I knew about Sonny’s family—all of it, including what the funeral director back in Tennessee had said. “Somehow his aunt knew I was meeting Ola at a mall outside of Chattanooga,” I said. “Knew who I was and why I was there. They want Joey too, Mom. This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Then we’ll hire a lawyer—somebody good. I’ll use the money from my land sale. We’ll fight them, Prentice!”

  My mother’s eyes flashed danger and I fully expected her to begin snorting and pawing the ground. I glanced at Ralphine who seemed to understand, and together we persuaded Mom to sit in Dad’s chair and put up her feet. “Now close your eyes and think blue,” I told her.

  Her eyes blazed open. “Think what”?

  “Blue,” I said.

  “For heaven’s sake, why?”

  “Just do it,” I barked. “It’ll calm you.”

  Mom opened one eye and made a face. “Then maybe you’d better try it too. I don’t remember your being so bossy, Prentice.”

  I waited until Ola tiptoed into the parlor, where Joey slept on a pallet, to tell my mother about the woman’s friendship with Maggie. “She’ll be able to explain better than I can about the problems with Sonny’s family,” I said. “Before we make any definite plans, I think the three of us need to sit down calmly and talk.”