Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)
“What do you intend to do now about the little incident at the mercantile?”
“That’s a hell of a question to ask me now,” David said. “You’re the one who just talked me out of storming in there and demanding justice.”
“I talked you out of storming in there and acting like a hot-tempered fool. I didn’t say I thought you ought to let it pass.”
“What do you suggest?” David entered the funeral parlor on Lee’s heels.
“I don’t know. I’m not a lawyer, but I feel sure you’ll think of some punishment suitable to the crime.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” David’s voice was full of sarcasm as he followed Lee into the room where Arnie Mason was stretched out in a yellow pine box.
“Don’t mention it.” Lee studied the corpse, flinching a bit as he loosened the dead man’s starched white collar and pulled it aside. “Looks like Myra Brennan outdid herself when she decided to outfit Arnie for all eternity.”
“What?” David was puzzled. “Myra Brennan paid for this?”
“Sure,” Lee said. “And very well, I might add. See?” He fingered the fabric below the removable collar. “French handkerchief linen. Expensive. Like something you’d wear, not something Arnie would own.”
“But why?”
“They were lovers,” Lee replied matter-of-factly. “Didn’t you know that?”
“I knew he worked for her, and that he was at the Satin Slipper almost every night. But that hulking brute of a man Myra’s lover?” David shuddered, staring at the scarred, battered face of the corpse. “No, I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. It does seem incredible when she has such a tendresse for you.” Lee stopped his rambling and focused on the expression on David’s face. “You do know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” David grimaced. “I do know she has a certain fondness for me, despite my ‘unfortunate’ heritage.”
“Or maybe because of it,” Lee suggested. “She does profess to hate all inferior beings—Indians, half-breeds, Irish “ He grinned at David. “But she sure has an interesting way of showing it—accosting you on the street in broad daylight, accosting me in the storeroom every chance she gets.”
David looked surprised at that admission.
Lee laughed out loud. The sound echoed through the funeral parlor, earning a sharp disapproving look from the proprietor, who had entered a moment earlier. Lee ignored the undertaker, focusing his attention on his friend instead. “You didn’t think you were the only one, did you? Because you aren’t. You’re her favorite—the best-looking and the richest—but you aren’t the only one.”
“Interesting,” David said.
“Yep,” Lee agreed. “I do believe the lady doth protest too much.”
“Yep,” David echoed. “It makes me wonder why.”
“I thought you’d see it my way,” Lee told him. “And, David, getting back to Tessa and the mercantile…” Lee examined the knife wound a few minutes longer, then closed the collar over the gaping hole.
“I wondered when you’d remind me again.”
“Have you decided what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Lee looked up and met David’s eyes. “Because I think you’re absolutely right about the knife wound.” He glanced down at Arnie one last time, wincing. “Nasty business, throat-cutting. This is definitely a right-handed slash. I don’t think the Roarke girl killed him, either. Trouble is, I don’t know who did.”
“Neither do I,” David answered. “But I intend to get some answers right after I pay a visit to the mercantile.”
“I’m glad that’s settled.” Lee nodded in satisfaction. “Now we can get the hell out of here. This place and this dead son of a bitch give me the creeps.”
* * *
The citizens of Peaceable who had congregated in Jeffers’s Mercantile waited all morning and part of the afternoon before David Alexander made his appearance. The assortment of tea and cakes had been consumed long ago, yet the women continued to browse in the ladies’ corner, and the men took turns facing each other over the black an
d red squares of the checkerboard. People who hadn’t been present at the morning confrontation showed up with orders for coffee, sugar, ten-penny nails, and spools of thread. Jeffers’s Mercantile was the most popular spot in Peaceable on this particular Saturday.