“Come and sit down, Miss Mildred,” I coaxed. “Have you eaten? Let me make you some tea.”
“Tea?” She made a spitting sound. “Child, I need some strong coffee with a little brandy in it. It keeps my heart beating.”
“I’ll get that for you, if you’ll eat something. I don’t think you should have brandy on an empty stomach.”
We all walked into the spotless, sunlit kitchen. Lines of copper pans hung alongside large copper utensils on the yellow wall. I found some eggs and butter, then slipped bread into the toaster. Chief Michaels helped her sit down at the wooden table, then sat beside her.
“I know you’re going to think I’m crazy,” Miss Mildred began, shaking her head.
“I don’t think any such thing,” the chief assured her. “You’re just agitated. Who wouldn’t be with their sister dying that way and all?”
She sniffed. “And Dae still hasn’t brought my watch back. You know, this whole thing started when I asked her to find Mama’s watch.”
“Millie, you can’t have the watch back right now. It’s evidence. There was a boy who snatched Dae’s purse yesterday. He’s not from around here. We think he might’ve taken Miss Elizabeth’s purse too. She may have been killed in the process. I’m sorry.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. My sister was strong, Ronnie. You know that. I think she gave you a paddling one day when you wouldn’t pay attention in Sunday school. She wouldn’t let anyone knock her down and take her purse.”
“I’m sorry, Millie. But we think that’s what happened. We haven’t found her purse yet, but we think we have the man who took it from her. I know it’s hard for you to hear.”
I’d finished the eggs and buttered the toast by the time they were done talking. I could see Miss Mildred impatiently pushing at tears as they ran down her cheeks. She didn’t want to admit how this was affecting her, and that was a bad thing. She needed to open up about it to someone. Maybe not me, or the chief. I made a mental note to call Mary Lou. Maybe someone closer to being her contemporary could help out.
There was no one left in Duck with the mythological status of Miss Mildred and her sister. When Miss Mildred finally passed on, the story of her and her sister would live on only in the words of others. Of course, Miss Elizabeth’s terrible death and the discovery of Wild Johnny Simpson’s body would fuel some gossip for a while. It seemed to me that after thirty years, no one would ever be quite sure who killed Johnny.
“Maybe you should have someone come in and stay with you,” I suggested as I put the plate in front of her.
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Or at least I would be if Lizzie would stay dead.” Her pale eyes looked deeply into mine. “Why is she haunting me, Dae? I know we had some problems when she was alive. But I swear I thought we always loved each other. Despite Johnny and everything else.”
I put my hand on hers. It trembled beneath my touch, as cold as if she’d come in from a December storm. “I’m sure she loved you, Miss Mildred. Maybe she has something she needs to tell you.” I couldn’t help it. The chief frowned at me for encouraging her, but who was he to say her sister wasn’t visiting her?
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” She patted my hand and picked up her fork. “Maybe you know someone who could help me. There must be someone left who can talk to the dead. If you could bring someone like that here, maybe we could get things sorted out. I don’t like that the police can’t find who killed Lizzie. I bet she’s impatient with it too.”
“We’re doing our best, Millie.” Chief Michaels shook his head. “There’s not much to go on except for that purse snatcher. If we could find Lizzie’s purse in that mess he has, we could make an arrest.”
“Well why didn’t you say so?” Miss Mildred pushed back her chair, scraping the legs on the wood floor. “She brought it to me yesterday. Maybe she knew you were looking for it.”
Chief Michaels looked at me as though waiting for me to explain that what was happening wasn’t happening. I shrugged and shook my head. I had no idea what Miss Mildred was talking about.
“You don’t understand, Millie,” the chief struggled to explain. “We think she had her purse with her when she was killed. That’s why the purse snatcher killed her, to get her purse.”
“Nonsense.” Miss Mildred went to a shelf by the back window. She picked up a black purse and brought it back to the table. “Here you are. Go out and find Lizzie’s killer. If I would’ve known you needed it, I would’ve brought it to you. Maybe that’s why Lizzie brought it here. She probably knew you wanted it.”
I looked at the purse on the table. I was afraid to do anything more. Chief Michaels hadn’t moved. I knew he felt the same. What did it mean? Had Miss Mildred had her sister’s purse the whole time?
Chief Michaels finally broke the spell by taking latex gloves from his pocket and putting them on. “When did you say Lizzie brought this?”
“Just yesterday. I told her I’d keep it safe. You know she never went anywhere without her purse. Isn’t that right, Dae?”
“Th-that’s right.”
Carefully, Chief Michaels opened the purse and looked through it. One by one, he placed Miss Elizabeth’s ID, embroidered handkerchief and other personal items on the table as he searched. There was no doubt that this was her purse.
Just when I thought he’d finished, the chief glanced at me and then leaned the opened purse toward me, so I could see into it. Pushed down into the bottom was what looked like a pair of blue gardening gloves. They seemed to be covered with blood. Chief Michaels didn’t pull them out. Instead, he sighed heavily, then said, “Millie, I’ll have to take this back with me. I’ll need to take a look around the house and in the garden shed too.”
With a large, cheerful smile, Miss Mildred gave him her permission to search her house and land. “Whatever I can do to help Lizzie rest, Ronnie. Maybe she led a wicked life, but the Bible says we should forgive.”
My heart was racing against my mind, searching for answers that made sense. He was taking advantage of an old lady who didn’t understand what was going on. “Chief, if I can have a moment outside.”
“I’ll finish up these eggs before they get cold.” Miss Mildred excused us like the children she’d taught in her youth.
When the chief and I were outside, I whispered, “You can’t really think she killed her.”
“I can’t think she didn’t, Mayor. Dammit, she has the purse! We’ve accused a man of killing Lizzie because we thought he had her purse. Millie has said from the beginning that Lizzie didn’t deserve to go to heaven. And you saw how calm she was when we told her about her death. It was staring us right in the face all the time.”
“No. There’s no way. All sisters fight. They weren’t any different than other sisters. Miss Mildred was in shock when we told her about Miss Elizabeth. And you know she’s not always here”—I pointed to my head—“when you talk to her. That doesn’t mean she killed anyone.”
“I’m sorry, Mayor. But it’s my job to find the truth. Right now, I think the truth might be that Millie finally lost it with Lizzie. She hit her with something, left her out there on the dunes and brought her purse back with her. I’ll know more once we check everything out.”
“This is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”
“If you really want to help out, Mayor, you’ll go back in there and tell Millie to think about what she used to kill her sister. Hold her hands and find it for us. That’s what you can do.”