Miss Julia Paints the Town by Ann B. Ross Page B

and on and on.
    I continued to pick at the food on my plate, more and more anguished at Sam’s seeming inattention to me. He hadn’t asked about my day. He hadn’t directed one word to me. My spirits dropped lower and lower. Ignoring me could be the first sign of his interest in somebody else.
    â€œJulia?” Sam said, and I couldn’t help but look up expectantly, in spite of wanting to appear serene and composed. “I saw a couple of city commissioners at the Bluebird today, and you’ll be happy to know that your idea of using the old courthouse for archives was well received. Tom Tinsley wanted to know if you’d be interested in heading a study committee to come up with a plan to pay for the restoration it needs. That would give them an alternative to the mayor’s push to sell it to developers.” Sam picked up his glass of tea. “I told him you’d be happy to do it.”
    I blinked, unable to respond. My first thought was that he wanted to keep me busy so I wouldn’t find out what he was doing. Finally, I managed to say that I’d think about it, and the conversation went on without me.
    The evening wore down to bedtime with everything seeming as normal as usual. Except my nerves, which were strung so tight that I thought I’d jump out of my skin. Tonya called about nine o’clock, letting us know she was home and there was still no word of her father. Mildred, she said, was inconsolable and had been given a sedative. I passed the phone to Hazel Marie, who talked at length with her about the advantages of hiring J. D. Pickens, P.I.
    I left her to it and went into the living room to sit with Sam. Now, I thought, we’re alone and he’ll tell me about Helen.
    â€œJulia,” he said, “this is bad business about Horace. Did you pick up any hint of what might have happened?”
    Ah, I thought, he’s ready to talk and is just leading up to Helen.
    So I told him some of the possibilities I’d come up with and how Lieutenant Peavey had dismissed them out of hand. “But, Sam, it makes sense. That piece of paper they found in Horace’s car links him to Richard in some way. Or at least, links whoever was driving the car to Richard. And it’s entirely possible that Richard had something to do with Horace’s disappearance. Don’t you think?”
    Tell me, I thought, tell me what Helen thinks.
    â€œI don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a long shot any way you look at it. I’ve not heard of them having any dealings with each other, although,” he stopped and smiled, “the way Mildred treats Horace, I can see how he’d want to do something on his own. Maybe he just took off for Las Vegas or somewhere. Thousands of people disappear every year, you know, and it’s usually because the home situation is intolerable.”
    â€œWell, speaking of that,” I said, hoping that as I confided in him, he would in me. “Have you heard about Leonard Conover and Pastor Ledbetter?”
    Sam laughed. “Don’t tell me they’re in cahoots.”
    But his eyebrows went up when I told him of Pastor Ledbetter’s potential call to another church, and he was as shocked as I was when I told him of Leonard’s absence from hearth and home.
    â€œLeonard Conover,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “who would’ve thought it.”
    â€œThat’s not all,” I said, daring to bring up the name. “LuAnne thinks he’s been lured away by Helen.” I watched him carefully to see if he would betray himself.
    All he did was laugh again. “Leonard and Helen? That would be one for the books, wouldn’t it? LuAnne must really be distraught to come up with that.” He stood up and yawned. “It’s time for bed, Julia. I’m about wiped out.”
    I would think so, I thought, after the day you’ve put in.
    As Sam checked the