“No.”
“Wives usually talk to their husbands and vice versa.”
“She gave me her word and I’ve known her far longer than Ned has. She won’t tell.”
“So it’s only you and Susan and Mrs. Hogendobber who know the postcard signal?”
“Yes.”
He kept tapping. “We’re a small force but I’ll assign Officer Cooper to guard you. She’ll stay here in the post office and she’ll go home with you too. For a couple of days, at least.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Very necessary. Within twelve hours, max, the killer will know that Mrs. Hogendobber left town and he’ll figure out the rest. She won’t show up for her Ruth Circle at church. They’ll ask questions. I’ll have her make some calls from the station. She can say that her sister’s taken ill and she’s hurrying to Greenville. Whatever location she gives out won’t be true, of course. But Mrs. Hogendobber’s cover won’t fool the killer, any more than Mim’s exchange students are fooling anyone. Her departure is too abrupt and Mrs. Hogendobber talks for days if she’s going into Charlottesville. For an emergency trip out of state, she’d take an ad out in the Daily Progress. See, that’s what’s tough about this one—he or she knows everyone’s habits, foibles, routines. If he can’t get to Mrs. H., I’m not sure what he’ll do next. He might turn on you or he might get nervous and make a mistake. A tiny one but something we can use.”
“I hope it’s the latter and not the former.”
“Me, too, but I’m not taking any chances.”
Mrs. Murphy and Tucker drank in every word. If Harry was in danger, there was no time to lose.
32
Officer Cooper’s presence at the post office electrified everyone. Mim, Little Marilyn, and the bodyguard stopped at the sight of her.
Little Marilyn hovered at her mother’s elbow, as did the daytime female bodyguard, who could have used a shave.
“Uh, Harry, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the Cancer Ball this year.” Little Marilyn bit her lip as Mim watched.
Harry had served on the committee every year for the last six years. “Yes.”
“Given that you’re divorcing, well, it just won’t do for you to be on the committee.” Little Marilyn at least had the guts to tell her face-to-face.
“What?” Harry couldn’t believe this—it was too silly and too painful.
Mim backed up her daughter. “We can’t have you on the program. Think what it would do to dear, sweet Mignon Haristeen.”
Mignon Haristeen, Fair’s mother, was also in the Social Register and therefore important to Mim.
“She’s living in Hobe Sound, for Christ’s sake,” Harry exploded. “I don’t think she much cares what we do in Crozet.”
“Really, have you no sense of propriety?” Mim sounded like a schoolmarm.
“Who the hell are you two to bump me off the Cancer Ball?” Harry seethed. “Mim, you’re in a poisonous marriage. You sold out cheap. I don’t care if Jim has umpteen million dollars. You can’t stand him. What’s umpteen million dollars compared to your emotional health, your soul?”
Mim roared back: “I came to the marriage with my own money.”
In saying that, she said it all. Her life was about money. Love had nothing to do with it.
She slammed the door, leaving Little Marilyn and the bodyguard running to catch up.
Bad enough that Harry had lost her temper, she had criticized Mim in front of Officer Cooper.
Mim, entombed as she was in the white sepulcher of her impeccable lineage, was jarred by a person of low degree, Harry. Oh, she’d made allowances for Harry. After all, Fair had little money but the Haristeens had bloodlines. They’d once had money but lost it in the War Between the States. Never bounced back financially, but then that was the story of the South. It took vulgarians like Jim to make money again.
Mim about ripped the door off her Volvo. She was calling Mignon Haristeen the second she got home.
Courtney breezed in as Mim blew out. “Hey, what’s the matter with her?”
“Change of life,” Harry said.
Officer Cooper laughed. Courtney didn’t get it. She banged open the postal box.
“Courtney, be careful. You’ll twist the hinges if you keep that up.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Haristeen. Officer Cooper, what are you doing here?”
“Guarding your post box from fraud and bent hinges.”
Mrs. Murphy stuck her paw in the opened box from the inside. She could reach most of the boxes if the mail cart was underneath, which it was. Courtney touched her paw. Mrs. Murphy had performed this trick for Mrs. Hogendobber, who screamed when she saw the hairy little paw. Here she was, brave about her nasty postcard but scared of a cat’s paw. Well, she wasn’t used to animals. Mrs. Murphy thought about that as Courtney played with her.
Danny Tucker opened the door and carefully closed it, a change from his usual slam bang. Ever since the credit-card episode, he had walked on eggshells.
“Hello, Harry, Officer Cooper.” He glanced at Courtney. “Hello, Courtney.”
“Hello, Danny.” Courtney shut the box, thereby depriving Mrs. Murphy of a great deal of satisfaction.
Danny leaned over the counter. “Mom says you should come over for supper tonight,” he told Harry. “Dad’s staying over in Richmond.”
“Thank you. Officer Cooper will accompany me.”
“You in trouble?” Danny half hoped Harry was, so he wouldn’t be the only person with a black cloud hanging over his head.
“No.”
“Terminal speeding tickets,” Officer Cooper said laconically.
“You?” Danny exclaimed. “That old truck can’t do but fifty full-out.”
“The condition of my truck is much to be lamented but the condition of my bank account is even sorrier. Hence the truck. And I do not have a speeding ticket. Not even one.”
“Why don’t you drop a new engine in it or a rebuilt engine? My buddy Alex Baumgartner—he can do anything with an engine. Cheap, too.”
“I’ll give it my bright regard.” Harry smiled. “And tell your mom we’ll be over about six-thirty. Is that all right with you, Coop?”
“Great.” Officer Cynthia Cooper lived alone. A home-cooked meal would be a little bit of heaven.
Danny’s eyes twinkled. He wanted to appear suave but he still resembled the fourteen-year-old he in fact was. “Courtney, you come too.”
“I thought you were grounded.” Why seem eager?
“I am but you can visit me. It’s only for supper, and Mom thinks you’re a good influence.” He laughed.
“You can ride in the squad car with us,” Officer Cooper offered.
“Let me ask Daddy.” She rushed out and was back within seconds. “He said it’s okay.”
Josiah came in. “I heard you were being watched, and I was nearly run over by Mim, Little Marilyn, and that bodyguard. Hello, kids.” He noticed Courtney and Danny.
“Hello, Mr. DeWitt.” They left the post office to talk outside.
Josiah’s lower lip protruded; he pretended to be serious. “I vouch for the character of this woman. Pure as the driven snow. Clean as mountain water. Honest as Abe Lincoln. If only we could corrupt her.”
“Try harder.” Harry smiled.
He got his mail and yelled around the corner: “Is there anything I can do to relieve you of Officer Cooper’s presence? Not that we don’t think you’re wonderful, Officer Cooper, but you’ll ruin the poor girl’s sex life.”
“What sex life?” Harry said.
“My point exactly.” Josiah returned to the counter. His tone was more serious. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll take your word for it then.” He hesitated, lowered his eyes, then raised them. “Any word from Stafford?”
“Not that I know of, and Mim let me know I wasn’t winning any personality contest, but then she isn’t winning one with me either, the stuck-up bitch.”