I thanked her again. Sometimes she told me what she was making; other times she let it be a surprise. Today must be a surprise day.
Diesel and I were out of the house a few minutes later. The morning was hot and humid—as it often was this time of year—and we did not hurry. We still made it to the office several minutes ahead of my appointment. Shortly after we both settled in our accustomed places, I heard a knock at the door.
I stood. “Good morning, Mr. Singletary. I’m glad to meet you. Please come in.”
He advanced into the room, and I moved around the desk to shake his proffered hand.
“Morning, Mr. Harris. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”
He glanced past me, and his eyes widened when he spotted Diesel. The cat climbed down from the windowsill and came over to greet Singletary. Diesel sniffed at his hand before rubbing his head against it. For the cat, that was the seal of approval. I was afraid he would try to rub himself against Singletary’s dark trousers, but he went back to his spot in the window.
“Handsome animal,” Singletary said. “I’ve never seen a cat that big before.”
That was my cue to explain about Maine Coons, and by now I had it down to a few sentences. Singletary nodded when I finished, and I could tell he was impatient to get on with things. I indicated he should take the chair in front of my desk before I returned to my seat.
Face-to-face as we now were, I could see the firm jaw, the intense expression, and the broad shoulders, all of which made me aware of an aura of power this young man exuded. He was ambitious—I knew that—and determined. But would he stop short of murder? Or would he do anything to get what he wanted?
“Kelly Grimes told me about the conversation she had with you yesterday. She was upset.” His voice was deep, and his drawl betrayed his Mississippi origins. Mine had come back since I moved home again, after many years in Texas, but his was more pronounced.
“Yes, I was pretty hard on her.” I intended to face potential complaints about my treatment of Ms. Grimes head-on. “I will tell you exactly what I told her. I do not appreciate being lied to, and I consider what she did a breach of her professional ethics. I ought to report her actions to the editor of the paper, but I’m willing to let it go, unless I catch her lying to me again about anything.”
“Fair enough.” Singletary nodded. “I asked for Kelly’s help in doing research, Mr. Harris. I did not know until after the fact that she pretended to be my opponent’s fiancée.” He shrugged. “I don’t see that her ruse was necessary, but I can assure you, both she and I will be straightforward with you from now on.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “I have to say I am completely at a loss to understand why you are so interested in these diaries. Why have you and Ms. Grimes been so determined to get a look at them?”
“I must ask you to keep what I am about to tell you to yourself, if at all possible.”
His intense expression made me even more curious about his interest in the diaries.
“Unless it has some bearing on the murder of Marie Steverton,” I said in a firm tone, “I will of course respect your wishes.”
He stared hard at me for a moment. Then he nodded. “All right.” He paused for a breath. “Here’s the deal. I’m looking for proof that Rachel Long was a murderess.”
TWENTY-TWO
His response shocked me. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it surely wasn’t that. I stared at Jasper Singletary and he gazed steadily back.
“Murderess?” I shook my head. “That’s a terrible accusation to make. Who is she supposed to have murdered?”
“Three members of my family, all children,” he said, his tone grim. “Four, really, if you count the mother who died of a broken heart.”
“What members of your family? I don’t know anything about your ancestors, so you’re going to have to explain this to me.” I leaned back in my chair. I felt a paw on my shoulder. As usual, Diesel picked up on the fact that I wasn’t my typical calm self. I rubbed his paw to reassure him while I kept my eyes focused on Jasper Singletary.
“Sure, but this will take a few minutes, so you’ll have to bear with me,” he said. “This goes back obviously to Civil War days. My family owned a good-sized farm—we still own it, actually, even though it’s a lot smaller now—that abuts the Long property, so the Singletarys and the Longs have been neighbors for over a century and a half.” He laughed bitterly. “Some neighbors they are. Anyway, my three times great-grandfather, also Jasper, married twice. He and his first wife had one son, my two times great-grandfather, Franklin. First wife died in 1855 when Franklin was about ten years old, and Jasper remarried less than a year later. He and the second wife had three children, little stair-steps. First one came along when Franklin was twelve, and the third one when he was fifteen.
“Is that all clear so far?” he asked. When I nodded, he continued. “Good. Well, Jasper had married late the first time, and he was already in his forties when Franklin was born. By the time the war came, Jasper was too old to fight. He had heart trouble of some kind, according to my great-aunt Caroline, my grandfather’s sister, and that kept him at home even though other men his age ended up fighting.
“Jasper doted on all his children, particularly the little ones. Franklin was ready to enlist right after Mississippi seceded, but he was only sixteen. He also had the same heart trouble Jasper had, and Jasper refused to let him go.”
He paused, and I decided to interject a comment. “I’m sure that was frustrating for Franklin, seeing so many others his age going off to fight.” I shook my head. “Early on, they all thought it would be over in a couple of months, at the most.”
“It’s a good thing Franklin didn’t go.” Singletary smiled briefly. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I’m happy to say also, in case you were wondering, I didn’t inherit the heart defect they both had.”
“I’m pleased to hear that,” I said. “You’ve set up the situation with your ancestors. How do the Longs fit into all this? Particularly Rachel?”
“About this time, right after the war got started, probably in June of 1861, Jasper had a serious bout of heart trouble. I figure he had a stroke or two, and that left him unable to do much work. They did have one hired hand, a distant cousin of Jasper’s, but he was young enough and enlisted right away. Jasper didn’t hold with slavery, so everything fell on Franklin, his stepmother, and the little ones.”
“Admirable, but certainly unusual in Athena at that time,” I said. “That must have been difficult for your family, not having help.”
“It was, and things got worse. Jasper didn’t improve, and the family was having a hard time. He wouldn’t ask anybody for help, although there were some cousins who did what they could. With the war on, things got harder for everybody. Jasper still couldn’t work that fall, and Franklin didn’t have the stamina to do all that he needed to do. Jasper’s wife, Vidalia, decided to go to Rachel Long and ask her for help. Their clothes were in rags, they had barely any food, and Vidalia was desperate. Jasper was too proud to ask the high-and-mighty Longs for anything, so she went behind his back and did it for him.”
He sounded angry, but I didn’t know whether it was with his namesake for his stubbornness or with Vidalia for going behind her husband’s back. Pride could be a good thing, but not if it meant letting your wife and children starve to death.
“How did Rachel Long respond to Vidalia?” I asked. Given his charges against Rachel, I was prepared to hear that she turned her back on the Singletarys and let them all starve.
“Lady Bountiful went swanning over—my great-aunt’s words, you understand—to dispense charity in the form of clothing and food so the pitiful Singletarys wouldn’t be on her conscience. In the meantime, her father-in-law, Andrew Adalbert Long, Sr., decided this would be a good time to talk Jasper into selling him some land he’d had his eye on for the past twenty years.”