Sassafras, Part 35

Joan


Billy didn’t get up until about 9:30. He didn't mention anything about last night, or ask about Rick. We had to be at the funeral home at 12:30, but I wanted to stop at the bank first. I wanted to make a display with pictures of Jenny on a piece of poster board I got at Wal-Mart earlier, so Billy took all the old pictures of Jenny out of her closet and gave them to me, while he started printing pictures from her computer. While I was looking at the pictures I noticed the list of things I was suspicious about.

“Billy,” I started.

“Bill, Aunt Jo,” he corrected me.

"Bill, I’ve been thinking about your mom’s accident, and it just doesn't seem right how she died. Things just don't add up."

Billy sulked for a minute. "I know. I don't understand why they found her on Reynolds in front of the hardware store. That's not the way she always went," he said.

"I know," I agreed. "I was thinking the same thing. She should have cut through the alley in back. I'm not so sure this was an accident.

"Do you think somebody killed her?" he asked, surprise on his face.

"I don't know. Maybe." I didn’t want to worry him. He would probably just say I was trying to make him want to move to New York. "What do you think? Was it an accident?"

"Did you really find her jacket at Tanner's?" he asked.

"Yeah, hanging on a peg by the door. That's where her keys were. Remember when we were looking for them?"

“But why would anybody want to kill Mom?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Was she mad at anybody, or worried about anything? Had she done anything unusual lately?”

“No,” he said. “I’m flunking Geometry. She was worried about Grandma, but she was always worried about Grandma.”

“I doubt if your math teacher killed your mom. Just do me a favor,” I said, “and keep your eyes open. If this wasn't an accident there has to be a reason for it. We just have to find out what it is. If you notice anything that doesn't make sense let me know."

I couldn’t help remembering what Rick said about Jenny’s car. “Bill, what were you doing the night your mom died?”

“I went to a football game with Steve and Scott.”

“What time was it over?”

“I don’t know, about 8 or 9. Why?”

“That was when she got to Tanner’s. Did you see her before she left?”

“No. It was an away game. I didn’t get home until she was already gone. Why are you asking me all this? You think I killed Mom!” he looked shocked.

“No, no, I don’t know what happened,” I said, “but something isn’t right.”

“So you think I did it! Is that what your boyfriend thinks?”

“He just said…”

“I don’t care what he said! I didn’t kill Mom!” He was yelling, but he looked like he was about to cry.

“I never said you did, Honey. But what happened to her car?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, Bill, the police found a side mirror and some trim where they found your mom. Your mom’s car has a busted grill and the side mirror is gone.”

“And so you think I ran over Mom! She hit a deer about a month ago. She had to get a new windshield, but couldn’t afford to fix the rest of it.”

That was a relief. I vaguely remembered reading something about a deer in her blog. “I’m sorry, Bill. I didn’t really think you did it, but it looked funny, all the damage to her car matching the evidence the police found. I just had to ask. I want to find out what really happened to your mom. It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”

Then I had a great idea. "Why don't we have dinner at Tanner's tonight? Maybe we can find something out?" And I can talk to that bartender again, I thought.

He looked interested, then frowned at me. "I don't know, is your convict boyfriend going to be there?" he asked. "Steve and Scott told me all about him last night. I can't believe you're dating a thief. And you let him come into my house last night."

"Speaking of last night," I said. "Where did you go? Do you realize what time you came home?"

"Awe, jeeze, Aunt Jo, I just went out with some friends."

"You were drunk when you came home. And it was almost midnight. I was worried sick."

"Well, now you know how I felt the other night when you were down at Tanner's," he said. “You came home drunk and I didn’t complain.”

"I know," I said. “That was a mistake. I didn’t plan on getting drunk that night. It just kind of snuck up on me. Don’t think it’s okay for you to get drunk just because I did. I know drinking seems cool when you’re in high school, but really it isn’t. I did a lot of stupid stuff last night because I was drunk.”

"Like bringing home a jail bird?" he asked.

“Yes, like bringing home a jail bird,” I agreed. “I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t been drinking. Truce?" I asked him.

"Truce," he agreed. "I wont get drunk anymore if you don't invite him over any more."

"You don't even know him, Bill. He's a really nice man."

"You don't know him, either!"

"I won't bring him back here if it bothers you, but I'm not going to stop seeing him. You'd like him if you got to know him."

"Yeah, whatever," he answered.