Hark! The Herald Angel Screamed: An Augusta Goodnight Mystery (with Heavenly Recipes) Page 13

  “Come now, we’re not here to harm you … that’s a good fellow.” Augusta spoke calmly from somewhere behind me and the dog grew quiet and sat, tail thumping. He seemed to be smiling.

  “Well, I’ll be doggone! I ain’t seen nothin’ like that since Christ was a corporal!”

  I turned to find a middle-aged man in sweat-stained overalls and a John Deere cap approaching from across the street. He snatched off the cap as he drew nearer. “Old Skeeter here must’ve taken a likin’ to you, ma’am. He acts like he’s gonna eat most folks fer supper.”

  I smiled and introduced myself. He couldn’t see Augusta, of course. “I was hoping to speak with a Mr. Shackelford. Martin Shackelford. Do you know where I might find him?”

  He scratched his head before replacing the cap. “I reckon he’s done gone on over to the church. Tonight’s the Christmas covered dish and Martin always helps them set up fer it. We’ve done closed for the day, but if there’s anything I can help you with, ma’am, name’s Buster—Buster Shackelford. I’m Martin’s cousin.”

  We shook hands. “Our church has hired a sexton who, I understand, used to work here, and I just wanted to get some information about his background,” I said. “Maybe you knew him—Dave Tansey?”

  He frowned. “Don’t know as I did, but I haven’t been back long. Just retired from the army last summer, and it sure is good to be home!” He grabbed his hat as the wind picked up. “It’s a-fixin’ to come up a pretty bad storm, and we need to get out of this weather. Why don’t you come on over to Aunt Eula’s where we can talk without gettin’ wet?” He pointed to the house across the street.

  What was I going to do? I hated to turn around and go home after having come this far. “Is there any place I can stay tonight?” I asked. “Maybe I can come back and speak with your cousin tomorrow.”

  “Lord, don’t you worry none about that! I’ll bet you could use a good hot cup of coffee about now and Aunt Eula always keeps a pot on. She just took her lemonade cake out of the oven, too, and I reckon she might even spare us a piece.” And with that Buster Shackelford turned and started back across the street, expecting me to follow. As I stood there wondering what to do, a large woman in a big pink apron waved to me from the porch and motioned for me to come on over, so I did. Augusta, I noticed, followed at a distance.

  As soon as I introduced myself and began explaining the purpose of my visit, Aunt Eula whisked me into the kitchen, sat me at the table, and served me coffee in a mug with gingerbread men painted on it. “My grandson did that in kindergarten,” she said proudly. “Harry’s almost seven now.”

  I told her I had one the same age and we became instant friends. The coffee was almost as good as Augusta’s and not only was the cake warm, moist, and tangy, but the slice she gave me could have fed the entire state of Georgia. Augusta, I noticed, lingered in the doorway with a pitiful look of yearning, and I knew she was practically tasting that cake and coffee, but there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. When Aunt Eula wasn’t looking I broke off a good-sized chunk of cake, wrapped it in a paper napkin, and stuck it in my purse.

  Buster finished his cake in double time, washed it down with coffee, and helped himself to another cup. “Bet you never tasted cake as good as this,” he said, and I took one look at Augusta and said it was even better than my mother made. I’ll bet my mother hasn’t made a cake from scratch in thirty years, and even then they weren’t anything to brag about.

  “I hate to intrude on your family at a busy time like this,” I said to my hostess, “but I was trying to get some information on a man who was hired to fill in temporarily with maintenance at our church. His name is David Tansey but everybody calls him Preacher Dave.”

  “Oh, sure, I knew Preacher Dave, but they lived out a good ways and we didn’t see a whole lot of him in town—at least I didn’t, but I think he was a good, hard worker over at the lumberyard. I never heard anything against him. It was sad, though, about their daughter. Dinah was a friend of Carolyn, our youngest, and such a pretty girl.”

  The chair creaked as Aunt Eula plopped down beside me. “Lord, it’s good to take a load off! Been on my feet all day.” She fanned herself with the bright apron. “Made two chicken pies, two pecan pies, that lemonade cake, and a couple of loaves of dilly bread, and honey, I’m about done in!”

  I told her I could certainly understand why. “Your daughter Carolyn,” I said, “does she live nearby?”

  “Oh, honey, I wish she did! Carolyn and her husband moved to Florida last year, but they’ll be here for Christmas. They have the sweetest little girl now—just learning to walk, and we just can’t wait to see her!”

  I said I didn’t blame them, thanked her for the refreshments, and rose to go. I wanted to ask her more about the Tanseys’ daughter, but I could see this wasn’t the time. “I really must go, but do you think it will be all right with your cousin Martin if I come back and talk with him in the morning?” I asked Buster.

  “Go? Go where?” Aunt Eula clamped a big red hand on my arm. “You gotta eat somewhere, honey, and you’re not going to find anything half as good in one of those fancy restaurants in Milledgeville or Macon as what we’ll be serving up tonight. And then, you’ll have to stay for the pageant afterward. Our Harry’s one of the wise men.”

  Now, how could I refuse an offer like that? I glanced at Augusta, who waved a few fingers and disappeared.

  It was beginning to rain when I went across the street and moved my car into the Shackelfords’ backyard. Augusta joined me there and I gave her the cake I’d saved for her.

  “So you’re going?” she said, pinching off a crumb to taste.

  “To the church supper?” I shrugged. “I don’t think I have a choice, and then there’s the pageant afterward. We’ll have to find some place to stay tonight.”

  Swaddled in her endless emerald green cape, Augusta leapt from the car and lifted her face to the rain. She did a quick pirouette, skirt whirling. “I do love Christmas pageants!” she said.

  “Maybe I’ll have a chance to talk with Martin Shackelford or someone else who knew the Tanseys,” I said.

  I rode to the church with Aunt Eula and her husband, Ed, along with Buster, his niece Mae Edna, and two of the Shackelford cousins Annie Lou and Fannie Sue. Annie Lou, who wore her graying brown hair in a bun on top of her head, was freckled and tall and so skinny you’d have trouble seeing her if she turned sideways. Her cousin Fannie Sue was as round as a beach ball with a rollicking laugh and a head full of short red curls. All had the surname Shackelford, and all, including me, balanced a cake, pie, or casserole on their laps. The car smelled so good I think I gained weight on the ride over alone.

  Martin Shackelford was up to his elbows in flour when we stepped inside the fellowship hall of the Light and Life Baptist Church a while later. “Be sure and try his biscuits,” Buster advised. “But you better get in line because they go fast. Makes them with whipping cream.”

  Earlier I had phoned Roger to let him know I wouldn’t be home until the next day and asked him to please take care of Clementine. Of course, he wanted to know what I was doing in Soso, Georgia, so I told him I was there for a little last-minute Christmas shopping at the outlet in Commerce. Now, to stay honest, I would have to stop and buy something on the way home.

  Aunt Eula introduced me to so many cousins, nephews, nieces, and siblings I lost track after the first three or four. Everyone had brought something to eat and the women scurried about placing the food on long tables and setting out dinnerware while the men set up tables and chairs for the meal. I was glad when one of the women (I think it was Mae Edna) accepted my offer of help and allowed me to place red candles and freshly cut evergreens on every table. A cedar Christmas tree surrounded by wrapped gifts stood in the corner of the room. The gifts, I was told, were for the children and would be given out later.

  I sat during the meal with Aunt Eula and Ed, Ed’s sister Ruby, Buster, and Mae Edna, and although we take pride in our fare in Stone’s T
hrow, I’ll have to admit, these people had us beat. They had chicken cooked every way imaginable, plus casseroles, bread, cakes, pies, and pickles of just about every kind.

  During dessert, I managed to ask Mae Edna, who sat on my right, if she knew anything about Dave Tansey.

  “Not much,” she said, after finishing a generous wedge of apple pie. “They didn’t belong to our church, but their son … Joshua, isn’t it?”

  “Jeremiah,” I said.

  “Well, he was a couple of years ahead of me in school, and it seems like he stayed in trouble most of the time.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “Oh, just different things … smoking pot … cutting class … stuff like that.”

  “What about Dinah, his sister?” I said. “She must’ve died awfully young. What happened?”

  “From what I heard, she married the wrong man. Just ran off without a word. It was awfully hard on the Tanseys.”

  “But what hap—” Before I could learn anything more, somebody came around to ask if we wanted coffee, and people started moving tables to the side to make room for the pageant to follow. Somebody turned out the lights except for those in the front of the room illuminating a small makeshift stage. The room grew quiet as the minister began to recite the familiar passage from Luke: And it came to pass …

  The pageant had begun. Everyone had turned their chairs to face the stage and there happened to be an empty one next to me. It didn’t stay empty long. I soon felt the light touch of a hand on my arm and knew Augusta was beside me.

  Watching the scene unfolding in front of me I forgot about what had happened to Opal Henshaw the night before; forgot about the elusive Melrose; and forgot about Idonia’s brush with danger. And when we rose at the end to sing “Silent Night,” Augusta sang as well. And this time she almost managed to stay on key.

  Afterward, the kitchen was filled with the crinkle of plastic wrap and the crackle of aluminum foil as people hurried to cover what was left in their dishes for the trip back home. I grabbed a sponge and helped Ruby Shackelford wipe off the tables, then overwhelmed, tried to stay out of the way. But as the bustle died down, I grabbed the chance to jump in to renew my conversation with Mae Edna.

  “You were telling me about Dinah Tansey’s husband,” I began.

  “What happened? Why did she die?”

  “I’ll tell you why she died.”

  I turned to find Martin Shackelford standing behind me. “She died because that worthless man she married didn’t get her to a doctor in time,” he said.

  “Tubal pregnancy,” Mae Edna whispered. “Tube ruptured and the poor thing died from internal bleeding. I’ve heard it near about destroyed her husband. They say he hadn’t been the same since.”

  “Huh! Crocodile tears if you ask me! All that caring came a little too late for that poor little gal,” Martin continued. “And what’s more, he didn’t even have the decency to tell her folks what had happened until she was dead and in the ground.

  “Dexter Clark!” Martin spat out the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, and looked at me sharply. “Not worth killin’, if you ask me. You’re not kin to him or nothin’, are you?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he began lining up empty containers on the table. “Mary Lynne, this one’s yours! Got your name on it. And, Elaine, I know this pan belongs to you. I seen you when you come in with it.”

  “Did you say, Dexter Clark?” I asked, dogging the man’s heels. “The man Dinah married was Dexter Clark?”

  He nodded. “She married him, all right, but he wasn’t much of a man.”

  I looked around for Augusta and saw her standing close by. It was obvious from the expression on her face the angel had heard every word.

  Dexter Clark was the name of the man who had died at Willowbrook.

  y the time we started back to Soso, the temperature had dropped and an icy wind blew in gusts that chilled me to the bone. We didn’t waste any time crowding into the family van, and Ed Shackelford drove slowly to avoid sliding on black ice in the road.

  “There is no way I’m gonna let you drive in this mess tonight to any hotel,” Aunt Eula informed me when I brought up the subject of a place to stay.

  “You’ve already been so kind, I don’t want to crowd you,” I said—although I really didn’t relish the idea of driving on slick, wet roads, especially since I didn’t know where I was going.

  “Honey, one more is nothing to me. I won’t even know you’re there. You can have Arabella’s room. She’s not due in until the weekend.” Arabella, I learned was the Shackelfords’ oldest daughter, who taught at an elementary school in Covington.

  “Hope you don’t mind sharing with Cousin Fannie Sue,” Eula continued. “She just drove down from Atlanta to see Harry in the pageant tonight. She’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  Fannie Sue and I had worked together clearing tables earlier that evening, and although she seemed pleasant enough, the woman must have weighed over two hundred pounds. I hoped we didn’t have to share a bed, but I was so tired, I felt I could probably sleep anywhere.

  But that seemed out of the question just then because the Shackelfords wanted to discuss the events of the evening and all of them began to talk at once. Naturally everyone thought Harry was the star of the show. We congregated in the kitchen, where Aunt Eula heated a big pot of spiced apple cider and passed around a tray of fruitcake and sugar cookies. I didn’t see how anybody could possibly eat another thing after what we had put away at the covered dish supper, but the refreshments soon disappeared. I sipped the cider slowly, grateful for its warmth, and wondered if I should bring up the subject of the Tanseys again, but decided it would be best to wait until the next day when I could speak with Martin Shackelford alone.

  Just as I finished my drink one of the cousins suggested a game of charades. This was met with boisterous approval and the whole family filed into the living room where they gathered in front of a huge Christmas tree and began to choose sides. I hung back in the kitchen, hoping I wouldn’t be noticed.

  “I hate to be a party pooper,” I told Aunt Eula, “but I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow so I’d better get some sleep.”

  “I guess I should’ve warned you about these folks,” she said. “They’ll stay up all night sometimes, and be no worse for the wear for it the next day.” She patted my arm. “I expect you’re tired, as well. Come on upstairs and I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

  “Count me in, too. I have an early day tomorrow.” Overnight bag in hand, Cousin Fannie Sue followed along behind us.

  To my relief, Aunt Eula opened the door to a pleasant, inviting room with crisp white organdy curtains, colorful hooked rug, and twin beds. I thanked her and said my good nights, then washed my face, and slipped into the soft flannel gown she left out for me. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  I didn’t even think about Augusta until I woke the next morning at a little after eight, but she usually takes care of herself in situations like this, so I wasn’t worried. The house was quiet when I came downstairs, Fannie Sue having risen earlier, and the charade-players still asleep. And although I had thought I couldn’t possibly be hungry again this soon, I found myself devouring crisp bacon with coffee and orange juice and the best waffles I’ve ever put in my mouth.

  Because I hadn’t planned to stay overnight, I had nothing to leave with Aunt Eula as a hostess gift to thank her for her hospitality. I would stop at the outlet in Commerce on my way home and have something sent from there, I decided. I was rinsing my dishes at the sink when Aunt Eula came into the kitchen and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  “Guess what I just found on the hall table—and with my name on it, too? Lucy, are you sure you want to part with this? Please tell me you are, because I can’t bear to give it back!”

  I tried not to act surprised when she held out Augusta’s beautiful hand-stitched needlework of a small country church in the snow. It looked amazingly like one we had passed du
ring our drive over the day before.

  “Of course I want you to keep it,” I said. “I can’t think of another person I’d rather have it than you.”

  “Well, I’m going to take it over to Milledgeville this very morning and have it framed. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything like this—it’s absolutely perfect!”

  Of course it was. “Why, thank you, Aunt Eula,” I said, and smiled.

  I found Augusta waiting in the car when I left a few minutes later. “Thanks for leaving the needlework, Augusta. It was a thoughtful thing to do and a perfect gift for Aunt Eula. She loved it! … And by the way, where were you all last night?”

  “I found the sofa most comfortable after the Shackelfords finally tired of their game. Have you ever played charades, Lucy Nan? All those signals—it was most enlightening.”

  I laughed and assured her that I had as I drove across the street to the lumberyard. This morning the gate was open and the unfriendly dog was nowhere to be seen.

  “I wonder if I might find a cup of coffee in there,” Augusta said.

  “I’ll bring you some if they have any, but on second thought, maybe you’d better come with me, just in case our friend Skeeter is anywhere about,” I said as I got out of the car. A man who looked vaguely familiar—probably one of the cousins—pointed the way to Martin Shackelford’s office and I found him at a makeshift desk covered with blueprints and a disarray of papers.

  He didn’t seem to recognize me at first glance so I introduced myself again, reminding him we had met briefly the night before.

  “Right. You were asking about Dave Tansey. Might I ask why?”

  “My cousin hired him to take care of the family property just outside of Stone’s Throw, and he’s also filling in for our church sexton for a while. I understand you wrote a recommendation for him, and I wanted to find out a little more about his background.” Taking the chair he offered, I told him there had been several puzzling incidents since the family’s arrival.