Page 129 of Family Affair
Virgil Woodcock lived in an old colonial mansion with a lush, beautifully maintained landscaping surrounding it. The entire neighborhood consisted of similar homesteads. Mature live oaks shaded the roofs of large houses situated on equally large lots. The peaceful setting was almost bucolic in its serenity, marred only by swaths of yellow tape around one house.
Ward Williamson’s house, Coco gathered, and sneaked a look at Cade. He was staring at the property as they passed it, his face devoid of all emotions, giving away nothing of what he was feeling.
He pointed to where the drive made a curve. “Here, park on the street. He’s a bit paranoid.”
They walked up the long driveway and he rang the bell.
The door cracked open, revealing a double-eyed barrel of a hunting rifle to welcome them.
Cade shifted so all she could see was his broad back and lifted his hands where their “host” could see them. “How are you today, Mr. Woodcock? We’re here to talk, that’s all. Mind if we come in?”
The door opened wider, and Coco could see the face of the rifle owner, surprisingly youthful despite the red-rimmed rheumy eyes. The white cloud of wispy hair swayed when Virgil Woodcock bobbed his head up and down surveying his guests.
“I know you.” He coughed and squinted, lowering the rifle to Coco’s immense relief. “You’re one of the Sheffield boys. The troublemaker. Frank, are ya?”
“Name’s Cade, sir. I’m the oldest.”
“Cade, you say? Don’t know. Where’s Frank? He owes me fifteen dollars in card debt.”
“Frank passed away, sir. A while ago.”
“Passed away… Y’all are too damn young to pass away. Even Ward was too young. Come in.”
Sparing them one last suspicious glance, the old man let them in and carefully relocked the door. They followed him down a narrow dim corridor into the living room, spacious but with a low ceiling that Coco found oppressing. Cheerful fire burned in a large fireplace despite the sweltering summer weather outside. The room was stuffy and hot, suffocating.
“You want to know about Ward, do you?” Virgil asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sit here.” Virgil pointed to the sofa with the rifle. “What’s your girl’s name?”
Startled, Coco realized the question was addressed to Cade. Evidently, her lowly status as a female rendered her unqualified to state her own name.
They sat down next to each other, and Cade squeezed her hand gently, letting her know not to erupt just yet.
“Her name is Coco. Short for Catherine.”
Virgil ignored his answer.
“They all want to know who killed Ward,” he stated without preamble. “They come and ask me their questions. Lots and lots of questions. ‘Mr. Woodcock, tell us this’ or ‘Mr. Woodcock, show us that.’ I say, a sane person can go psychotic from all the confusion.”
The old man pressed a pale veined hand with long buffed nails to his forehead as if his mind was at risk of escaping this very moment.
Cade cleared his throat, “Their inquiries are understandable, Mr. Woodcock. You are… were Ward’s closest neighbor. You lived next to him for a long time, and I remember you as a very attentive, aware individual. If anyone knows what Ward was up to, or saw something, it would be you.”
“What Ward was up to… We were only neighbors. I don’t know everything about him,” Virgil groused but it was obvious from his slightly colored cheeks that Cade’s calculated compliment gave him no small measure of pleasure. “Ward was always up to something. You’d think a preacher should lead a quiet life, a reclusive existence. All they do is pray, the preachers. Commune with God. That’s what they should do.” He gave a sharp nod to confirm his own musings.
“And Ward didn’t?” Cade prompted.
The old man gave Cade a pointed look and scoffed. “I don’t know how one can pray in solitude when people come and go in one’s house at all hours. ‘Poor souls seeking solace.’ I say…” He leaned closer and motioned for Cade to do the same. “Sometimes, I heardloud musiccoming from his house,” he whispered in a barely discernible, scandalized tone.
Coco choked, desperate to smother a laugh that almost escaped.
Cade shot her a warning look.
“That’s unacceptable!” he said to Virgil with a perfectly straight face.
Virgil’s thin lips all but disappeared in an expression of condemnation. “God agreed with you, boy. He punished Ward for his erroneous ways.”
