Page 59 of Luck of the Devil
“I told you last time we talked to call me Lisa. Mrs. Murphy makes me feel old. And there’s nothing clairvoyant about it,” she scoffed. “It’s plain common sense, something most people in this town lack. Your mother died mysteriously, and you know I know things other people don’t.”
She had me there. “Right again, although most people don’t think her death was mysterious.”
“Most people are imbeciles.”
Again, no arguing with that.
“Of course it was mysterious,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I heard she had a suitcase in her car, and it was common knowledge that your mother practically refused to leave Jackson Creek, let alone go on an overnight trip.”
“You heard she had a suitcase?”
“I believe you announced it to a small group of women at her funeral,” she said. “Rather loudly, I might add.”
Not my finest moment. “I suppose I did.”
“The real question is where she was going.”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I said. “If you have any insight, it would be helpful.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”
“I’m sure you knew that my father had left my mother.”
“Everyone knew that,” she said wryly. “Much to your mother’s chagrin.”
“What were the rumors about their situation?”
“There were multiple theories. One was that your father got tired of her nonsense and moved out. But it can’t be coincidental that it happened right after you returned, and the fact that you remained in the apartment made some people think he moved out because he wasn’t happy you were back. They think your mother was the one who wanted you there. And then, of course, there was her recent behavior.”
“What recent behavior?”
“Why, just two weeks ago, she heard Donna Wheaten bad-mouthing you at church. Sarah Jane told Donna to hush her mouth before she told the whole town what Donna had planted in her backyard.”
While I would have loved to think my mother was defending me out of devotion, I was sure it had been for selfish purposes. “That doesn’t prove anything,” I said dismissively. “She wouldn’t want people gossiping about me because it made her look bad. If she’d had her way, no one would ever have mentioned my name again.”
“She might have felt that way when you first came back,” she said, “but she told Donna you were caught up in a bad situation and doing the best you could. And then she made the threat about disclosing what Donna was growing in her backyard if she wouldn’t quit.”
I was momentarily speechless. “Wow.” I finally said.
“Exactly,” she said in a smug tone. “Total turnabout. So some people thought your father didn’t like you here in town and left to preserve his good name.”
“Except I work at his firm,” I said.
“Like I said,” she said with a sniff. “Most people in these parts lack common sense.”
“Have you heard any rumors that my father was having an affair?”
She was quiet for a moment. “Interesting,” she said, sounding intrigued. “I haven’t.”
“My neighbor across the street insinuated that he might have had a mistress.”
“Anything’s possible,” she said, as though still considering the idea. “But tongues haven’t been wagging about it. I suppose you would know better than most.”
I wasn’t going to confirm or deny why he’d really left. That was up to him. As far as I knew, he didn’t want to give people an explanation. He was letting them come up with theories of their own.
“Do you know if my mother made any new friends over the past month or so?”
“New friends? She knew everyone in town and had long since decided whether they were worth her time or not. And as we both know, new people in town are a rare occurrence.” She paused and lowered her voice. “Why, do you think your mother had made a new friend?”
