To tide you over: the next installment of Daydee's adventures-
“You were lucky to make that turn coming in,” he said.
“Glad you liked it, sweetie.”
He frowned.
“No, seriously.”
“Seriously, I could give a flying damn about what you think of my driving!” It was out before she could stop it. But she did smile.
Frank looked at Winston.
“I don’t think he’s going to help you,” she said.
“Sorry, Miss McIntire. I was just concerned about you hurting yourself.”
“Hey handsome, let’s not let it get us down. So what’s going on with the farm?”
“You want a tour?”
“Not today, love. Next time for sure. So what do you have planted?
“Its half soybeans, half corn, about 180 acres each. I’ve got a futures offer for 7.40 a bushel on the soybeans that we probably should take. It won’t go any higher than that.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said.
“We get offers to buy the crop before it even comes out of the ground. Most wait until mid-summer, but it’ll be below that by then.”
“Let’s do it if you think we should.”
He was smiling now.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll bet you a percentage if you want.”
“No.”
She held out her hand. He swiped his on his rear and then shook with her on it.
“What about the other farm?” she asked.
Frank shrugged at her. She looked at Winston.
“You’re thinking of your Great Aunt’s land?” he asked her.
“Yeah.”
“Your mother ended up with just a parcel. Edward owns the rest now.”
“How did that happen?’ she asked.
“Come on, let’s go there. I’ll tell you about it on the way.” Winston said.
“You be careful driving, ma’am.” Frank said.
“You mind your own business, Sweetie.”
After they were in the truck and turning out on the road, she remembered the clock.
“You have his phone number?” she asked Winston.
“Yes.”
“So what happened with the land?”
“Edward represented your mother in the murder investigation. She traded to him for what she owed him, I think. She wouldn’t ever talk about it. I thought we’d go by to see him this afternoon. He’s the lawyer for her estate.”
They drove a few more miles and then turned in a driveway again. This led down to a large grove of cypress trees and wound its way through them to a small lake. There was a oil derrick ahead and a small shed. Around the lake was another derrick that looked like it was operating.
“I think it’s just about ten acres,” Winston told her. “The rabbit hunting down in here is great.”
“She struck oil?”
“Not exactly,” Winston laughed. His laugh cracked, as if he wasn’t used to doing it. “The owner of the adjacent farm filed a suit against her. Turned out when she started drilling, he got big eyes and had his land tested and found out the oil was under his land, not hers. Sure enough, she was trying to build a well that ran over to his oil.”
They stopped. It was a pretty place, except for the derricks. Could have been a nice place for a summer cottage, if you had a mind that wanted that kind of thing. When her Great Grandmother and Great Uncle were kids their father had owned 1000 acres here. When he died they split it up and then proceeded to lose a lot of it. Her great grandmother had two children: Daydee’s Grandmother and her Great Aunt that never married. Daydee’s Grandmother and grandfather had lived over in Indiana and never came here to visit. Daydee’s mother and father had come here right after she was born. Their thought was that they were going to inherit everything over here and they were going to fix up the great mansion in town when everyone died. She wondered why none of the women in her family had ever thought of this place. It would have been a paradise away from the wide flat corn fields that went on forever. A nice place for the kids to run around away from town.
“What happened to my Great Aunt’s farm house?” she asked. “That’s the one I remember when I was a kid. We were out there a bit.”
“They moved it into town and lived there when they were too old to work the farm. Your Great Grandmother ended up living to ninety seven or something like that.”
“Winston, do you know everything about my family?”
“Your mother and I were close for a number of years. Before and after her second marriage.”
“It’s important that I know that?”
She could feel him staring at her. She looked at him.
“I guess it is,” he said.
“So where to now?”
“Well, I’ve got a errand to run. You can drop me back at the cemetery or you can come with me. And then it’s lunch time.”
“Tell me where we’re going,” she said, as she put the truck in reverse and headed out the way they had come in. He directed her. She was beginning to get a little better with the truck. She’d have to go get a book to study for the driver’s test. He took her to a convalescent home just inside the city limits. She luckily found a pull in spot to park. She started to roll up her window, but Winston got out without touching his. No one locked their cars here. She climbed down and tried fluffing out her tangled hair without much luck. Everyone inside knew him. They went back to a lounge area where there was a television on and a few were watching. There were a number of men and women sitting in wheelchairs, just staring off into space. One man had a football helmet on. Everyone was over seventy. Winston pulled two chairs over near an old woman. She was very frail looking with scraggy white hair.
“Deidre, this is my wife. Martha, Deidre.”
The woman didn’t even look at him. He talked to her softly, but she made no sign that she knew he was there. He asked her questions that she didn’t answer.
“I’m going to find a restroom,” she said and left him. She took her time and got her hair untangled. The scene hadn’t changed at all when she came back.
“She’s been like this for ten years now,” he said. “They are about to have lunch, do you want to stay or go find a restaurant? The food isn’t too bad here and nobody thinks to ask you to pay for it.”
“We can stay.”
They wheeled her into a little cafeteria and sat at a table by a big window. Outside, it was getting overcast. Thick clouds were moving across behind the two trees in the yard outside. No one ever went out there, she decided. Winston feed her. It was just little lunchmeat sandwiches and oranges and pudding in prepackaged servings.
“You come every day?” Daydee asked.
“Pretty much these days. I used to go help out with the High School Football practices, but they have a new young coach that doesn’t think too much of me.”
“You were the coach.”
“Yep, but I retired a long time ago. My assistant took my job and he didn’t mind that I came around. He retired himself last year. Went off to Florida.”
“No kids?”
He shook his head.
“I got lots of friends,” he said.
He wiped his wife’s face and they wheeled her back. He pecked on the cheek and patted her hand and they went out.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“You’re a good husband,” she told him.
He laughed with the cracked laugh again.
“Let’s go talk to Edward,” he said.
They drove back downtown and on main street parked in front of an old limestone bank. The lae offices were upstairs through a side entrance that led to stairs. It all looked well to do. The office had double doors with the law firm name engraved in the glass and a posh reception area with Oriental rug and potted plants and law books in shelves that no one had touched in twenty years. They were dusted however. Winston approached the receptionist rather apologetically.
“We’d like to see Mr. Stills, if he is free. We forgot to make an appointment.”
He gave their names and then sat on one of the couches. If he had had a hat, he would have fiddled with it. The receptionist went into one of the solid oak doors. Daydee looked out the window and then wandered over to a Currier & Ives print of a steeplechase on the wall. She half expected Burl Ives in a white suit to step out to shake their hands. The receptionist held the door, and announced that Mr. Stills would see them now. Mr. Stills didn’t get up. He had on a beige suit and sat a very large desk. Behind him was a large window that looked out on the street below. He was Jack’s buddy. The other football star. He had a paunch. He was handsome, but had a frown that wouldn’t leave. He motioned them to the chairs in front of the desk.
“This is Deidre,” Winston told him.
“You won’t mind, you understand. I have a legal responsibility.” Edward said. “Can I see some identification?”
Daydee pulled her wallet out. She handed over her Louisiana ID Card.
He fingered it as though he was about to hold it up to the light like you would a $100 bill, but he handed it back.
“No Driver’s License?”
Oh, oh.
“I left it in my luggage. It expired two days ago. I was coming up here, so I thought I would just get a new one here.” She felt like she was talking to a cop.
“So you are planning to be here a while?”
“Looks like it.”
He handed her a document. It was her mother’s will. A couple pages stapled together.
“You can read it through and if you have any questions, you can call me. You get everything. There’s a living trust that was set up by your Great Uncle, for the house in town and the farm. Your mother sold the house in town and deposited the money in a bank account which belongs to the trust.”
“How much is that?”
“Looks like about five thousand dollars.”
“For that mansion and the land it sat on?” she asked.
“You’ll have to talk to the accountant about that. “
“I thought that the trust meant she couldn’t sell it.” Daydee said.
“That’s technically correct, but we consulted the court here and they gave her permission as long as the profit was deposited to the trust. “
“Five thousand for that house? There was at least two acres of yard.”
“You have a pretty good memory of things, Deidre. I’d suggest you go look at the transcript at the courthouse and the transfer deeds if that will help you. There might be copies in your mother’s papers. “
“What happened to my Aunt’s farm?”
“That was quick deeded to me for services rendered.”
“Do you have copies of that transaction?”
“You can get them from the County Office over at the court house, but look through your mother’s things first.”
“Off the record,” Daydee said. “You think she killed him. I won’t repeat anything you say.”
He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. He looked at Winston in the same way that they rest of them had.
“Yes,” he said. “She had brought in something to me that would have hung her. I told her to get rid of it. I will not tell you what it was, that’s client privilege. But she did it. He probably deserved it. He made your lives a living hell when he was living with you. And then to come back after all those years.”
He shook his head.
“So. You are the executor of the will. If there’s anything you want me to handle for you, I’d be more than happy to. The first thing is to organize everything and file the will with probate. My rate is $35.00 an hour. I can defer it until things get sold.”
She didn’t like him at all. If he was a john, she’d turn him down.
“What makes you think I want to sell anything?” she asked.
The frown became set in stone.
“That’s just what people that have left town usually do. They don’t want to stay.”
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. But I don’t have to be back in New Orleans ever. I’ve closed up shop there.”
Those were probably not the right words to use in front of a cop.
“The people here are set in their ways, Deidre. You might find it hard to fit in,” Edward said.
“Everyone else has been real friendly.”
She stood and walked out to the receptionist and paused to pick up his business card, mostly to see if Winston was coming. He seemed to be in a hushed heated discussion with the lawyer. She turned and when downstairs without him. She took her time, hoping Winston would come running out after her. She started the truck and sat for another minute. He appeared; looking worried and then scurried over to get in.
“What a sourpuss,” she said.
“He’s angry a lot these days.”
“You were whispering away in there when I left.”
“I was trying to convince him to give you a break.”
“Is he even a honest man?” she asked.
“Well…I…he may not be.”
“You were his coach in high school. If anyone knows, you do.”
“Well…I guess he’s not.”
“I’m going to dig up all the records. It all smells shady to me.”
Winston looked out the window.
“The world isn’t always the way we wish it would be,” he said.
“My mother was another one,” Daydee said. “Where to now?”
“There’s the accountant.”
“Ok, show me where the mansion used to be. It’s on the way?”
He directed her. The neighborhood was just like every other Midwestern neighborhood, with houses all built in the thirties that have been remodeled and painted over and over. Lawns were sprouting the light green of spring grass. The lot had a good sized modern building on it with a main entrance and lots of brick and plate windows. There was a sign out on the yard. It was a medical clinic. This was the odd part. They had talked and talked about fixing the old house up. The trust business must have been the problem. It wasn’t hers. It was Daydee’s. That must have rankled. Her Uncle must have laughed himself silly writing up that trust business. Daydee thought the whole thing was a shame. Had he left to her mother, it might still be sitting here, all spruced up and waiting for her. She had dreamed about the house off and on her whole life. Usually it had to do with a secret room filled with jewels. Or a little person that she would find sitting in that doll’s chair he used to have on his window sill. No doll, just a doll’s chair. And five thousand! What a rip off!
“When your Great Uncle died, your aunt came over with a crowbar and went to work on the house, looking for hidden money. She tore up the fireplace and some of the floor. Your mother went crazy herself. “Winston was saying. “They never found anything, as far as I know.”
“They were all crazy. Cracked and useless. If I had stayed, I would have been just as bad.”
“Your mother had her moments.” Winston said.
“Maybe in the sack- for you. That was the only thing that anybody really liked. Did she keep her habit til the very end?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Winston said.
Daydee eyed him.
“Yeah,” he finally said.
“So the accountant is next?”
Winston directed her to his office. It was in a mini-mall, next to a chain drugstore. It reminded her of a real estate office or a mall bank office. The plants were plastic. The accountant, Mark, was a very slender man that was entirely too blonde with eyebrows and a thin mustache to match. He seemed very feminine in his mannerisms and speech, but there was a wedding ring on his finger. He seemed friendly enough. He got straight to the point.
“Your mother and her corporation have been operating at a loss for the last five years, losing about ten thousand a year on the bottom line. I have no idea how she was managing to stay in business. I had suggested bankruptcy a couple of years ago, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“What is the corporation?”
“Everything she owned: the apartment building, the cemetery, the oil exploration and the share crop revenue.”
“You think she was making money in a way that she wasn’t telling you about?”
“I’m sure. Don’t know what, though.”
Daydee looked at Winston.
“I might have some idea,” he said. “But I need to talk to you about it in private.”
“That’s better for everyone,” Mark said. “Why don’t I work up a detailed history and I’ll drop it by tomorrow afternoon. I could go over it with you and explain anything you don’t understand.”
“Ok, what time?” Daydee knew this meant something else.
“Say, around two?”
She agreed, curious about what he had in mind. Sometimes people just know who you are. That was the feeling he gave her. Or maybe that damn lawyer did a background check on her and told everyone. There were arrests off and on in her thirties for soliciting. She followed Winston outside.
“So what do people know about me?” she asked him on the sidewalk. There had to be an explanation about the looks and the little discussions out of earshot.
“N..nothing.”
“Your buddy the lawyer didn’t check me out?”
“No. At least not that I know of.”
“Would you tell me the truth?”
“Of…of course.”
She lit a cigarette.
“So what was my mother doing for money?”
“I think she was dealing in drugs, but I’m not sure. I don’t think she was selling anything, more like acting like a courier.”
“Mother with a big time stash in the trunk. There’s a thought.”
“Every so often she would go out of town. The police would never suspect a little seventy-year-old of trafficking.”
“You know, Winston, you’ve been very kind to me. I think I’m tired. I’ll take you back to your car.”
She drove back to the cemetery.
“So what do you want to see tomorrow?” he asked.
“You know I think I’m tired. I’ll call you if I want to go out. I might just sleep in all day tomorrow.”
He waited for her to drive out before he got in his car.
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