Hadley was a proud man, and rightly so. He had joined the army as a teenager and served for five years, including two years in the Korean War. Segregation in the armed forces was ended during that war. He had served admirably, and left the army as a decorated Sergeant.
Following his military service, he returned to a segregated society that gave little respect to African Americans. He took a job working for Elmo’s grandfather, Milstead Mobley, as a manservant. The salary was more than adequate, but he had planned to look for something better. He dreamed of owning an automobile dealership some day.
But soon, he felt like he was right where he belonged. And when he married, his wife came on staff as a maid. The couple didn’t have children, although they tried. But they were never lonely living with the Mobleys. They were family.
And the thing that had kept Hadley there for all those years, even after the passing of his dear Eloise, was respect. A mutual respect. Henderson Benjamin Hadley placed a high value on respect. So, even at age 77, he never had thoughts of leaving.
These days, Hadley was primarily a cook, but readily accepted any duty that was entrusted to him. However, when Dr. Mobley had started to tell him about the trip to the Dallas Zoo, he was less than thrilled, though he didn’t allow his feelings to show. But then the doctor had surprised him by saying that Hadley wouldn’t need to accompany them.
Dr. Mobley had suggested that Hadley take the day off and go visit his brother. And when he balked, the doctor insisted that he take a fishing holiday, and that he was not to come home until Sunday afternoon. Elmo knew Hadley loved to fish.
It was now 6:45 AM. Hadley whistled a tune as he finished arranging the clothing and other items in his old tweed suitcase. He turned to the full-length mirror on the inside of his closet door and checked his attire. Oops. He removed the brown fedora and replaced it with his fishing hat.
His bedroom was upstairs, at the rear. Mallie Mae’s door was open, so he decided to stop by. He took off his hat and looked in.
“Good morning, Ladies.”
“Morning, Hadley,” said Macy. She was brushing Mallie Mae’s hair.
“Good morning, Hadley,” said Mallie Mae. “Wish you were going with us.”
“Me too, Ma’am,” he said. “But Dr. Mobley insisted that I go to Karnack.”
“To see your brother?” said Macy.
“Yes, Ma’am. And do some fishing.” He held out his fishing hat.
“I haven’t been to Caddo Lake in years,” said Macy.
Hadley’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “It’s fabulous. We’ll spend the whole day out there. And then tonight for dinner, it’ll be all the Catfish and hush puppies we can eat.”
“Sounds delicious, Hadley,” said Macy. “So, you’re spending the night?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Dr. Mobley told me to stay gone until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Well, y’all have fun,” said Macy.
“Oh, I intend to, Ma’am,” said Hadley with a big grin.
He walked out of the room and down the stairs to the garage and out the back door. Hadley kept his vehicle in the old barn, which was also where he worked on the car from time to time. It was a shiny black 1956 Buick Roadmaster Riviera with red interior.
He was surprised to see Carnie’s Malibu missing. She had been parking it in the barn the last couple of days.
Hadley flipped open his cell phone as he drove away from the house.
“Hello?”
“Is this Horatio’s Fish Camp?” said Hadley.
“Hey, Ben. You on your way?” said Horatio.
“Yes, Sir. And tell Alma she’d better be ready to cook up a huge mess of Catfish tonight.”
“Oh, you wanna do some serious fishing, huh?”
“You got that right.”
“Well, I already hitched up the boat. So, hurry up.”
“I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Hadley never drove his prized Roadmaster over 50 mph. He changed the oil every 2,000 miles and waxed it four times a year.
“Sorry about the late notice,” said Hadley.
“No problem. You know I’m always ready to throw a line in the lake. But why did Dr. Mobley wait until this morning to give you the day off?”
He rarely had a full day off, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had done an overnighter. But he didn’t mind. He was part of the family, after all.
“Well, just yesterday he planned an all-day trip to the Dallas Zoo with his mother and Macy, and I guess he realized this morning it would be a good time for me to get away too.”
“Well, that was nice of him. But I’m surprised he didn’t want you to drive them to Dallas.”
“Yeah, me too. It seems like everybody in the house is acting kinda funny lately.”
“Really? What do you mean?”
“We just found out this week that Mrs. Mobley has Alzheimer’s.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“Yeah, it’s awful.”
“I hope me and Alma never get it.”
“Only thing is, I’m not sure she actually has it.”
“Well, didn’t she go to the doctor?”
“Yeah. Dr. Mobley sent her to a specialist in Dallas, and he ran a bunch of tests on her, and they came back positive. But I haven’t seen her having any problems. Her memory seems fine.”
“Yeah, but they say the memory kinda comes and goes. Especially when you first get it.”
“I guess so.”
“Well, hurry up, Man. We’re burning daylight.”
“See you soon, Horry.”
*
“I thought we were going to wear old, worn-out clothes today?” said Greg.
“This is old,” said Cynthia.
“It’s just not possible for you to look bad, is it?”
“I’m not wearing makeup.”
“See. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Quit.” She nearly blushed.
“You wanna go through McDonald’s on the way out?”
“Sure.”
“Didn’t it feel good to skip the run this morning and sleep a little longer?” he said, as they walked to his car.
“Well, I…”
“You didn’t skip. You got up early and ran without me, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t help it. I never miss my run.”
“I should have known. Well, I had no problem skipping it.”
“I hope you’re not quitting on me.”
“No, I’m just going to need a day off every once in a while.”
“That’s fine. I’m so proud of you for getting in to it. I know it’s not easy.”
They picked up some breakfast sandwiches and coffee at McDonald’s, and headed toward Marshall to pick up the rental truck, load it, and move Beverly to Cynthia’s house.
“Did you see this morning’s paper?” said Cynthia.
“Just the front page. I guess the police still don’t have a clue who did it.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. They didn’t even take anything.”
“Honey, shouldn’t we tell your mom about it? Especially since the murder on her street was one of the reasons she agreed to move.”
“Not today. I don’t her to freak out. Besides, what’s she going to do—cancel the truck and unpack all the boxes?”
“Yeah. I guess it’s too late for her to change her mind.”
It was a mild late-September day—perfect for moving. It had been an easy decision to put the top down on the Bonneville. There was not a cloud in the sky. And the bright sun provided enough heat to compensate for the wind blowing through their hair. Not that Greg had much hair. He would throw on a baseball cap for the numerous trips between the truck and the house. On a day like this, an uncovered, balding head was guaranteed to get a sunburn.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the car I saw yesterday.”
“What car?”
“When I walked down to Jane’s for lunch there was a white car parked in front of Coreyville Copy Shop. And it had a bumper sticker that read:
“If ignorance is bliss, then you must be ecstatic.”
“Oh, I’ve seen that one before. Or I heard it somewhere.” said Cynthia.
“But do you remember what that man said? You know—the odd guy who lives across from Nancie Jo’s house.”
“No. What?”
“He said a nurse visited her in a white car, and something about the word ‘ecstasy.’”
“Okay…,” said Cynthia, not sure what he was getting at.
“Ecstasy. Sounds kinda like ‘ecstatic.’ If ignorance is bliss, then you must be ecstatic.”
“I don’t know, Greg. Seems like you’re grasping at straws.”
“But here’s another thing: I’ve never seen that bumper sticker before. And you know I always read them.”
“So, you think it’s somebody new in town? It could be somebody who’s lived here forever and just put on a new bumper sticker.”
“I should have walked over there to see who it was.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t think about the ecstasy/ecstatic thing when I first saw it. And once I did, the car was gone. But I think I’m gonna go over there Monday and see if I can find out who was driving that car.”
“You really think they noticed? And that they’ll remember?”
“Maybe. It’s worth a shot.”
“Suppose they do remember, and the person was a stranger—what good will that do?”
“Maybe they paid with a check or a credit card. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve got to try.”
“Yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, I guess. But don’t you think you should tell the police?”
“Not yet. Not after they embarrassed me in front of all those people. They practically laughed in my face when I suggested they interview the neighbor.”
“Well, who knows? Maybe you’re on to something. You might just solve the case. Then who’ll be laughing?”