21. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
T wo nights later, over a dinner of baked potato and cube steaks with green beans, John said, “I have some news about Horace Howard.” He picked up his glass and took a sip of water.
Lenore’s head snapped up. “You do?”
He nodded, slathering butter over his baked potato, followed by a liberal sprinkle of salt. With his fork, he picked up a piece of cube steak and used his knife to shove some potato onto the fork before putting it into his mouth.
Lenore practically held her breath, her dinner forgotten.
“I called my counterpart in McHill, Pennsylvania. It’s a pretty small town, not more than six, seven hundred people.”
“That’s smaller than Lavender Bay.” Lenore reached for the pepper and sprinkled a small amount over her food .
“Yes. Anyway, Chief Maldridge over in McHill knows this Horace Howard.”
Lenore’s heart sank. If the law enforcement professionals knew who he was, it couldn’t be good.
“Has he been arrested?” she asked. Her stomach went sour, and she laid her arm across her belly.
John tilted his head, cutting his steak. “Not yet. Maldridge said Howard is too slick to get caught. That he had him fingered for a couple of petty crimes in the area but could never prove it. Howard could always provide an alibi.”
“Let me guess. A woman was always able to provide an alibi,” she said. Why did women fall for men that were no good, if not completely dangerous?
John nodded, popping cube steak into his mouth. “They also had him fingered for a moonshine operation, but he left town and by the way Maldridge made it sound, they were glad to see the back of him and didn’t pursue it.”
“Figures he’d land in Lavender Bay. Lucky us.”
“He said to keep an eye on him.”
Lenore volunteered, “I can keep an eye on him.”
John set his fork down. “Absolutely not. This man might be dangerous for all we know.”
“More reason for me to follow him.”
John looked alarmed. “No, Lenore. Leave him to me.” His tone brooked no argument .
He laid his fork and knife on his empty plate and let out a sigh. “Maldridge said one more thing as well.”
Lenore waited, holding her breath. Her dinner was only half eaten.
John looked at her. “Horace Howard left behind a young woman in the family way.”
Lenore felt herself blanch. She didn’t realize she was shaking until John reached over and placed his hand on hers. “Promise me you won’t worry about this,” he said. His forehead was creased, and the last thing she wanted was for him to be worried about her.
“I’ll try my best, but she is my sister,” Lenore explained.
“Fair enough.” He pushed his plate away. “I think one chief of police in the family is enough.”
“That’s for sure.” She stood, picked up the plates, and put the kettle on the stove. There was one slice of apple pie left, and she laid it in front of John. “I’m sorry, I have no cream.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine as it is. Doesn’t need any dressing up.” He picked up his dessert fork and cut off a bite.
As Lenore washed the supper dishes, she thought long and hard about what John had told her about Horace Howard and what she would do with that information. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she needed to tell her sister, as unpleasant as it was going to be. No one liked to hear bad things about someone they thought they were in love with. And she suspected Laura wouldn’t take this news easily. But tell her she must, and she prayed her younger sister would see some sense.
It was mid-morning when Lenore arrived at her parents’ house. Breakfast had been cleared away. Her father was at work at the town hall, and her mother was at her philanthropy meeting, which was held every Wednesday. Quietly, she peeked in the kitchen and found Hilda in a chair against the wall, her head lolling, snoring lightly. Hilda napped like this every morning after the breakfast dishes were done. She pretended she didn’t do this, and Lenore used to pretend she didn’t notice.
She made her way upstairs. The door of her old bedroom was open, and she peeked in. It was still done up in pale shades of yellow, with daisy-print wallpaper. It was simple, the furniture unfussy, and she’d decorated it herself. It was hard to believe that that had been her bedroom for the first twenty-five years of her life. But that was all in the past now.
Laura’s bedroom was across from her old room. Lenore rapped softly on the door.
“Come in,” came the invitation.
If Laura was surprised to see her sister, she didn’t show it. She was sprawled out on her stomach on her bed, legs in the air, her chin resting on her upraised hand. The current edition of Photoplay was laid out in front of her.
“Hello, Lenore,” she said evenly, never lifting her gaze from the pages of the magazine.
Laura’s room couldn’t have been more different from Lenore’s. It was all pink and white, and had always reminded Lenore of some intricate confectionary. It was also heavily scented with perfume, bordering on the overpowering.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Laura asked, flipping the page of her magazine.
Lenore winced at the tone. It was true they weren’t particularly close; they were too different to have one of those sisterly bonds she’d witnessed among her own friends. But still, Laura was her sister and she cared for her and her welfare. And at present, Horace Howard was a threat to her well-being. She foresaw no end of grief as far as that man was concerned.
“I stopped by to see how you’re doing,” Lenore said. She went to the window seat with its view of the back garden and the orchard. She pushed a few embroidered pillows out of the way and sat down and crossed her legs.
Laura sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, narrowing her eyes at Lenore.
“Why?”
Lenore laughed but it sounded artificial. “Can’t I stop by and see my sister? ”
“You never did before, so I don’t know why you’d start now,” Laura said. Her beautiful blond hair had been cut short, parted on the side, and crimped to within an inch of its life.
“Laura!” Lenore didn’t remember her sister as being so bitter or cynical.
“What?” she asked coyly. “Let me guess, you want to talk to me about Horace.” She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips.
“Now that you mention it,” Lenore said gently. She folded her hands in her lap. Behind her, a bird hit the window, momentarily startling her.
Laura performed an exaggerated eye roll. “Mother and Dad have already talked to me about him.”
“Have they? What did they say?” Lenore asked. Best to proceed as slowly and cautiously as possible. The slightest thing misconstrued could set her sister off.
“They think I can do better. They’d like me to go back to Hollis,” Laura said sourly.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I disagree with them, of course.”
“Why? What is it about Horace Howard that makes him special?”
Lenore’s expression transformed from jaded to dreamy, and she released an appreciative sigh. “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
I’ll say. Lenore waited for her sister to say more .
The sun, high in the eastern sky, slanted in at an angle through the window, brushing the room with a morning glow.
“He’s very exciting. For the first time in my life, I feel alive!”
All sorts of alarm bells went off in Lenore’s head, but she proceeded with great care. “Certainly, you can understand Mother and Dad’s concerns?”
“You’re not going to lecture me on him, too, are you?” Laura flopped back on the bed.
Lenore continued to talk. As far as she was concerned, they weren’t finished with this conversation. “John has looked into his background—”
Laura bounced back up to a seated position, her eyes ablaze. “He did what ?”
Lenore held up her hand. “We were all concerned.”
“Let me guess what he found out.” Laura held up her hand and began to tick things off on her fingers. “He had a couple of scrapes with the law in McHill. And by scrapes, I mean they tried to blame him for things he didn’t do. And then there was the girl who complained that he got her in the family way. Huh,” she scoffed. “Tough to prove that one. I heard that the child is as redheaded as they come.”
Lenore sat there, dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open. Her sister had all this information at hand and she was still enamored with Horace? All of this had put no doubts or cast any suspicion in her mind ?
“How did you know all of this?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.
“Horace told me everything,” Laura said. “We’re a modern couple, there are no secrets between us.”
Horace Howard wasn’t only slick and clever. He was downright dangerous. He’d told Laura the worst about himself, and she still was in love with him. If Lenore was worried about her sister before, she was even more anxious over her now.
“Does none of this bother you? Aren’t you the least bit concerned?” she asked.
Laura shrugged and pretended to inspect her nails. “I believe him. He’s a victim of circumstance. The things he’s been accused of are horrible. I feel sorry for him.”
That was the worst thing Laura could say. Many a woman married a man she felt sorry for. For any number of reasons. They thought they could help him or save him. Or just love him enough to change him. But a leopard never changed its spots. That was a sad fact of life.
“Are you going to marry him?” Lenore asked. She had to know. Most of all, she needed to prepare her mother and father.
Laura shrugged again. “He hasn’t asked. But if he does, my answer will be yes.”
There was no sense in trying to talk her out of it. Laura had already made up her mind. To speak out against the idea would only make her younger sister dig in her heels .
Lenore stood up and rearranged the cushions as they were. Before she left, she stopped at the door and said, “I’d like you to come by my house sometime and have tea with me. Just the two of us.”
Laura snorted. “Why? So you can talk me out of Horace?”
Lenore shook her head. That boat had already sailed. “No, because you’re my sister and now that we’re grown adults, I’d like us to be friends.”
Her sister couldn’t hide her surprise. “Okay,” she said quietly.
The most important thing was to keep the lines of communication open. She had a feeling Laura was going to need someone to talk to. And Lenore decided it would be her. It was evident that someday her sister was going to need her.
The conversation with Laura had been illuminating, and it made Lenore realize yet again how much she appreciated the man she’d married.