The Mulberry Tree

“I understand,” Arleen said, then she smiled. “Blue blood is what James craved, isn’t it? It’s why he put up with people like Bandy and me. James could have all the money in the world, but he couldn’t go back and change his breeding.”

“No, he couldn’t,” Bailey said. She exchanged a conspiratorial smile with Arleen, and in that moment, they were close to being friends.

“You know something?” Arleen said. “I’m glad you aren’t in that kind of a relationship again. And I’m glad that the new man in your life isn’t a controller like James was, and that he isn’t the kind to stop you from having your little shop. And I hope he doesn’t stop you from finding out whatever it was that James wanted you to find out.”

“What do you mean?” Bailey asked. Had Jimmie told people about the note he’d left his wife in his will? He seemed to have blabbed about a lot of other parts of their private lives.

“It was just something that James said once. I’m sure it wasn’t important. But he said that after he died, he was going to ask you to find out something that he couldn’t.”

When Arleen said no more, Bailey looked at her hard. “Okay, what is it that you want?”

Arleen inhaled cigarette smoke so deep that it must have gone down to her toes. “There aren’t many men like James left,” she said softly, then waited for Bailey to figure out what she meant.

“Ah, right,” Bailey said. Arleen meant that there weren’t many vastly wealthy men out there who had some deep need to surround themselves with people whose only claim to fame was that they “knew people.”

“The rich ones today,” Arleen said, “are these boys from the computer world. What do they need introductions for? They want to stay up all night and play games on their computers.” She stubbed out her cigarette in Bailey’s salad bowl with such force that Bailey thought she might break a nail.

Bailey just looked at the woman, her eyes asking, What do you want?

“If you make a go of your little company, perhaps you’d like to have some good names on your masthead.”

Bailey narrowed her eyes, unintentionally looking very much like her late husband. “Maybe I might like to have someone tell others about how wonderful my products are for say . . . one percent of the gross?”

“Ten percent of the net,” Arleen shot back.

“Two percent of the gross will make sure you do some work,” Bailey fired back.

Arleen smiled. “I wish I’d spent a little time with you when James was alive. All right. Three percent of the net.”

“Two,” Bailey said, unsmiling. “Gross.”

“So what’s the name of this company that I own . . . two percent of?”

“I have no idea,” Bailey said, then she smiled. “I haven’t started the company yet.”

For a moment Arleen blinked at her, then when she realized that Bailey had lied, she threw her head back and really laughed. It was a good ol’ Texas girl hee-haw, something that Baroness von Lindensale would never have given into.

Bailey couldn’t help smiling back, and when Arleen went i

nto a coughing fit, she handed her her glass of water.

“Now would you tell me what Jimmie said about what he wanted me to find out?”

“Oh, yes,” Arleen said as she reached into her handbag and withdrew her compact to check her makeup. She wore a lot of it, with eyes heavily blackened, and cheeks painted scarlet. “James said that all his money couldn’t right a wrong that had happened when he was a kid. Since he never talked about his childhood, you can imagine how all of us were on the edge of our seats. ‘Murders called suicides’, that’s what he said. We said, ‘Jimmie, you have enough money that you could set the record straight. Expose the murders.’ Of course we were all volunteering to help because we wanted to find out the truth about his mysterious past. ‘Do you think they would talk to me?’ James said. ‘I was there. I was involved. But those six shining boys were—’ ”

“What?” Bailey said, her eyes wide.

“He said he was involved so ‘they’ would recognize him. Whoever ‘they’ are. Even Bandy couldn’t get James to tell more.”

“No,” Bailey said. “You said, ‘six shining boys.’ Did he say that exactly? Or did he say ‘six golden boys’?”

“Is there a significant difference between those two phrases?”

“There is if you live in Calburn. Okay, what did Jimmie say about the ‘six shining boys’?”

Arleen took a maddeningly long time to light another cigarette, then she looked back at Bailey. “I think James’s father was one of those boys.”

“Do you mean that Jimmie’s father was murdered? Or did he commit suicide? Or was he accused of murder? Or did he murder someone?”