if she couldnât achieve those things, she could be remarkable in another way.
âWonder why her parents didnât do anything about it?â I asked. âIs there anything you can do about chins?â
âI donât know.â Janet shrugged. âBut I can tell you that Lacey has never believed in plastic surgery. Sheâs real fundamentalist, you know. A great lady, but not a liberal bone in her body. Thatâs why she took to Shakespeare Combined Church so well, when she married Jerrell and he wanted her to go to church with him.â
A tap on the jaw seemed to have much the same effect on me as a glass or two of wine. I felt disinclined to move, oddly content to be standing in a parking lot having an idle conversation with another human being.
âJerrell and Deedra didnât get along so well,â I commented.
âNo. Frankly, Iâve always wonderedâ¦â and Janet hesitated, her face compressing into an expression of both reluctance and distaste. âWell, Iâve always wondered if he ever visited Deedraâ¦you know? Before Laceyâs husband died, before Jerrell ever imagined being able to marry Lacey?â
âUgh,â I said. I turned this over in my mind for a minute. âOh, yuck .â
âYeah, me too.â Our eyes met. We had matching expressions.
âI would think he would hate remembering that,â Janet said, slowly and carefully. âI would think heâd hate wondering if Deedra would ever tell.â
After a long, thoughtful moment, I replied, âYes. Iâd think he certainly would.â
T HREE
Lacey Knopp called me the next morning. I was about to leave for Joe C Praderâs house when the phone rang. Hoping it was Jack, though the time difference made me fairly surely it wasnât, I said, âYes?â
âLily, I need you to help me,â Lacey said. I hardly recognized her voice. She sounded like sheâd been dragged over razor blades.
âHow?â
âI need you to meet me at Deedraâs tomorrow. I need help packing up the things in her apartment. Can you do that for me?â
I try to keep Wednesday mornings free for just such special projects. I wasnât more than a little surprised that Deedraâs mother was in such a hurry to clear out Deedraâs apartment. Many, many people react to grief with a furious flurry of activity. They figure if they donât hold still, it canât hit them.
âYes, I can do that. What time?â
âEight?â
âSure.â I hesitated. âIâm sorry,â I said.
âThank you.â Lacey sounded shakier, suddenly. âIâll see you tomorrow.â
I was so buried in thought that I took the wrong route to Mr. Praderâs, and had to turn around and go back.
Joe Christopher Prader was as old as God but as mean as the devil. Called âJoe Câ by all his family and cronies (those few still surviving), heâd been known for years for stalking around Shakespeare brandishing a cane at everyone who crossed his path, lamenting the passing of the better days, and bringing up old scandals at the most inopportune times.
Now Joe Câs stalking-around days were pretty much done.
Some visits, I kind of enjoyed him. Others, I would have decked him gladly if he hadnât been so frail. More than once, I wondered if he was really as fragile as he seemed, or if maybe that show of frailty was a defense against just such impulses as mine.
Shakespeareans were inexplicably proud of having Joe C as a town character. His family was less thrilled. When his granddaughter Calla had hired me, sheâd begged me to work for at least a month before I quit. By that time, she hoped, I would be over the shock of him.
âIf we could get him to move out of that old house,â Calla Prader had said despairingly. âIf we could get him into Shakespeare Manorâ¦or if we could get him to agree to live-in
Elmore - Carl Webster 03 Leonard