Chapter 4
We stopped the car in front of Lady Elsmere's door,
which was immediately opened by Charles, her African-
American butler. He ushered us in but not before I
brushed
against a black wreath on the door. As Charles escorted
us
to the back terrace, I noticed black chiffon had been
draped over all the mirrors.
Jake hung back. "What's with the coverings over the
mirrors?"
"So the soul of the departed doesn't get trapped
behind
the mirrors. Mirrors are considered portals. It was
originally a Roman custom. Reflective water also had to
be
covered in the ancient world after death as well as coins
put on the eyelids for payment to the ferryman, Charon.
Southern people still cover mirrors as well as Jews who do
it out of respect for the dead. Some Europeans put coins
on the eyes to this day," I replied.
"Okey dokey," replied Jake rubbing his chin. He was
not impressed.
Charles noticed my noticing. "She got word this
morning
about Mr. Greene's death. It's been quite a shock for
her. So please, go softly."
"What's with the mourning display? She's not his
widow," I admonished curtly. "Only the house of the
deceased is supposed to cover the mirrors."
I sometimes despised Lady Elsmere's sense of drama.
It
set my teeth on edge.
Ever loyal, Charles said nothing, but just shook his
head as he opened the glass double doors to the brick
terrace and announced me.
June, sucking on a whisky soda, motioned me to sit
beside her with a frail but diamond-laden hand. It looked
like a claw dripping with glitter. She was wearing a
bright yellow pantsuit with a black mourning band
encircling the upper left arm. Her eyes looked red from
crying and she had forgotten to pencil in her eyebrows.
She looked drunk, sick, and eyebrowless."Bring Josiah
something," begged Lady Elsmere to Charles. "What do
you
want, dear?"
I shook my head.
"Bring her a Bloody Mary," cackled June.
"No thank you, Charles. I won't be here that long."
"Bring some hot tea then with some of her honey."
Charles gave a quick little nod and was gone like a
puff
of smoke.
Opening an antique gold case, June took a ciggy out.
She tapped it on the patio table and looked out upon her
vast back pastures that held grazing Thoroughbreds.
"Do you know how old I am?" asked June as I bent to
light her cigarette with a gem-studded lighter from the
table.
Were those real rubies and diamonds?
"Not really," I lied.
"I'm old enough to remember hemp being the major crop
grown. Then that was outlawed and tobacco was king. Now
that is gone too. Nothing left in the Bluegrass but horse
breeders grabbing a fast buck and heirloom tomato
farmers."
She spat out a fleck of tobacco. "This town used to
be
a place of grace and culture. Now it's a rat hole with a
mall on every corner.Half the antebellum houses I used to
visit have been torn down for subdivisions.Every time a
field is paved over, a bit of our collective soul is
chipped away until nothing will be left but rot. I hate
the new Lexington. Hate it."
"You're being a little hard, aren't you?" I
replied.
My feelings were hurt since Brannon, my late husband, and
I
had built one of those subdivisions.
June ignored me as usual."I heard it on the news. I
was just finishing breakfast when they announced that
Arthur had been brutally murdered. Murdered!" She took
a
deep draw and then exhaled a stream of smoke. "I never
thought I'd outlive him. Never."
"The reason I am here, June, is that you were fond of
Arthur and knew him for many years, but I am kind of
surprised by how hard you're taking this. I don't mean
to
pry but you are acting like . . . I don't know, like
a . . ."
"Like a wife. Like a lover." She turned, staring at
me.
There was silence between us.
"Is there something I'm missing here?"
She gave me a knowing look.
"Uhmm, how connected were you and Arthur?"
"Arthur was the great love of my life."
I sat for a moment, taking in what June had just
said.
There was no use quitting now. The hat was out of the
box. "Like a platonic admirer or are you talking about a
lover as in sex?"
June puffed on her cigarette and said nothing.
"Jumping Jehosaphat!" I sat back in my chair,
surprised. No one really thinks of old ladies having
grand
passions.
She arched the place where an eyebrow should have
been. "That shocks you."
"I don't know what to say. I really am speechless.
I
mean, he was so much younger than you."
"Twenty-eight years to be exact. We met at the Rolex
Event. He was forty-two and I was seventy. We were
lovers
for many years until I became too frail and then we became
even better friends."
"Did his wife know?"
June spat out, "I don't know if she knows and don't
give
a big rat's fanny. I never cared.Arthur was my last
chance
for happiness and I took it."
She watched the trail of cigarette smoke dissipate.
"I
loved all my husbands, you know, but in different ways.
My
first husband was my high school sweetheart. Then Lord
Elsmere . . . we were fond of each other, but he lived his
life and I was left to live mine. He loved the ladies,
but
didn't like to love the ladies."
"He was what Thomas Jefferson referred to as a ‘Miss
Nancy'?"
"Yes, but he was very good to me. Made sure that I
would be taken care of after his death." She paused as
though remembering. "He had such a dry wit about him
. . . and such a gentleman. Rather courtly manners.
In the thirty-five years since his death, I've met only
one
man who is only a crude facsimile to my Bertie, and that
is
your Matt."
Charles came out with a tray and poured some hot tea
into a cup for me. June waved him away impatiently.
I sipped on my tea, waiting for June to continue.
She continued to puff away.
"Then he dies and you come back home to Kentucky," I
said, prodding her to the good part about the infidelity
and sex.
"Years later I met Arthur at the Rolex Event and we
just
hit it off."
"Okay, you met Arthur at the Rolex Event in
Lexington."
June looked at me with irritation written all over her
pale, wrinkled face. "I just said that."
"Hey, it was less than a year ago that I got my skull
cracked open, so if it takes me a little longer than most
to get the facts straight, do forgive me, your majesty."
I
instantly regretted my words.
"Well, at least my loves died on me. I didn't throw
love away like . . ."
"Like I did? Is that what you were going to say?"
June squared her shoulders and looked at me with
spite. "You did that with Brannon. If you had asked him
to come home, he would have, but you were too proud. You
threw away a good marriage just because he wanted to play
patty cake with some young thing for a while. Don't all
men at some point?"
I stood, furious. "I guess not with you. Seemed like
every time you needed a man, one popped up from nowhere.
How convenient is that? How many seventy-year-old broads
get another go-around with a man half her age and a
married
man at that? You never paid any consequences."
"You mean, paid for my sins? What rubbish that is."
"You make me so mad, June."
Lady Elsmere shrugged, "I thought you came to comfort
me. All you want to do is to judge, and it's Lady
Elsmere
to you!" she cried, pointing a dragon claw at me.
"I came to ask some questions to help a friend. I
didn't know that you were doing the nasty with the dead
guy. Then you start busting my chops about Brannon. What
the hell do you know about it, anyway? You think you're
the only one who's ever shed a tear?I'm getting out of
here."
June shushed me. "Go on then. I want to be alone
with
my memories anyway." She turned her back.
"That went well," I murmured.
Charles must have been watching as he opened the
terrace
door and beckoned. Once I was inside he confided,
"She's
been like this all morning. Drinkin' like a fish.
Cussing
everybody out. Just hateful. Now she wants to go
parading
to that man's funeral with his family there. I'm afraid
she'll say something to Mr. Arthur's wife and there will
be
a scandal. It's not fittin'. Not fittin'."
I placed my hand over my heart trying to calm its
ragged
thumping. "What a beating I just took. Let me think for
a
moment. Why don't you call her doctor and have him
prescribe some sedatives to calm her nerves. If she still
insists on going to the funeral, I'll offer to go with
her."
"That's a good idea, Miss Josiah. I'll do just
that.
I've got my grandchildren stationed around the house to
keep an eye on her. She won't be able to go to the
bathroom without me knowing about it."
"Lady Elsmere's got a good friend in you, Charles."
"She's your good friend too, Miss Josiah. She
doesn't
know what she's saying. She's half out her mind with
grief. You need to let this roll off your back."
"I know it, but she just knows how to push my
buttons."
I grabbed his arm.
"Charles, is it true what she told me about Arthur?"
Charles nodded.
"How could I have missed that? I was with them both
many times and I never suspected their true relationship.
I feel so dumb."
"They both wanted it kept very quiet."
"They did a good job. I was never even suspicious."
Charles did not reply.
"I'll take my leave then. Keep me informed, will
you,
Charles?" I told him about Lincoln and why I had come.
Charles assured me he would let me know of anything
pertinent to Lincoln. His nut-brown face was full of
concern as I left.
Jake was waiting for me in the grand staircase
hallway.
Seeing my strained face, he put his arm around my waist
and
helped me to the car. It felt good to lean into his hard
body. "Here we go again . . . you doing too much."
"I know. I know."
"You hungry?"
"Nope."
"How's the pain doing?"
"Manageable at the moment. I can live with it."
"Well, that's a first. You go straight to bed.
I'll
call the hospital and talk to Shaneika. I heard
everything
Kelly told you. Maybe when you wake up, Linc will be up
and about."
I reclined the car seat and was asleep before he drove
out of the driveway.