But they weren't alone, and his mind blanked on small talk.
He was rescued when Bobby Hinton blundered into the small silence. His plate was heaped four inches high with food.
"What's with the black armband, Bobby?" asked Marcus.
"Oh," said Hinton, waving his fork in the air and waiting to swallow a mouthful of chicken salad before he spoke. "I'm the official family representative. My mother was really taken off guard by all this. She didn't want to get involved, so she asked me to come."
"I had no idea you were related to the Bloodworths," Simon said.
"My grandfather was a nephew of Adam Bloodworth's—his sister's son," said Hinton. "When Adam died, my grandfather inherited. This house and everything involved was a headache for the estate, so it was donated to the historical society. They restored it, and Granddad took a tax deduction."
"So your mother is the official next of kin," Gates said.
"That's right. Of course, she never knew the woman. When the society offered to claim the body and bury it, she was very relieved."
"Do you know anything about what happened back then?" asked Julia. "Haven't a clue," Hinton said. "Who cares anyway?"
"We're just kind of interested in how she died," Julia said.
"She was shot, wasn't she?" Hinton asked. "How could you possibly find out the details after all this time?"
"Think, Bobby," Simon said. "You must know a family story about her disappearance. It would have been a big deal at the time."
Bobby Hinton thought.
"Well," he said. "My grandfather told me that Charles didn't have any sons, so he brought Adam in to learn how to run the family business. It was sort of understood that he and the girl would get married, but then she backed out."
"Really?" said Simon, remembering that Adam Bloodworth had insisted in the newspaper that the marriage was still on.
"I think that's the story. Of course, Adam would have been up the creek if she had married someone else, because then maybe he would have been out of a job. But then she disappeared and later was declared dead. So he inherited the whole shebang after all."
"Maybe Adam killed her?" Marcus suggested. "Because she broke off the engagement and he was out in the cold?"
"He had an alibi," Julia said. "He was on a fishing trip."
Simon noticed that Sergeant Gates had put down his plate, taken a small black notebook out of his pocket, and was methodically taking notes. He had the old-fashioned habit of licking his pencil every few minutes.
"Mr. Hinton," Gates said. "Do you have any idea who Adam Bloodworth went fishing with that night?"
"For God's sake," Hinton said. "How on earth would I know something like that!" "Part of your family lore, maybe?" said Julia.
"I haven't got the faintest idea," said Hinton.
"Would you humor us a little, Bobby?" asked Simon. "Call your mother and see if she could add something to your recollections."
"She'll think I've lost my mind, but okay," Hinton said. "You could never prove anything after all these years anyway."
“Maybe not, but I’m going to try,” Simon said.
Chapter Eleven
THE GOOD INTENTIONS OF THE PEOPLE WHO WENT TO ANNE Bloodworth's funeral did not extend to the more macabre activity of following the hearse to the cemetery for internment. There were, after all, no refreshments served during this aspect of the occasion. Only Simon, Julia, Bobby Hinton, the president of the historical society, and the minister stood at the grave site as Anne Bloodworth's coffin was lowered into the ground. There was, of course, a Bloodworth burial plot, and she was interred next to her parents. Some efficient person would see that she had an appropriate gravestone.
Simon heard a small scraping sound behind him. He turned, and saw that his little group was not alone after all. About twenty feet behind him were two black women, one elderly and one younger. The scraping noise had been made by the older woman's cane on the cement walk.
While Simon watched, she sat down heavily on a
He was rescued when Bobby Hinton blundered into the small silence. His plate was heaped four inches high with food.
"What's with the black armband, Bobby?" asked Marcus.
"Oh," said Hinton, waving his fork in the air and waiting to swallow a mouthful of chicken salad before he spoke. "I'm the official family representative. My mother was really taken off guard by all this. She didn't want to get involved, so she asked me to come."
"I had no idea you were related to the Bloodworths," Simon said.
"My grandfather was a nephew of Adam Bloodworth's—his sister's son," said Hinton. "When Adam died, my grandfather inherited. This house and everything involved was a headache for the estate, so it was donated to the historical society. They restored it, and Granddad took a tax deduction."
"So your mother is the official next of kin," Gates said.
"That's right. Of course, she never knew the woman. When the society offered to claim the body and bury it, she was very relieved."
"Do you know anything about what happened back then?" asked Julia. "Haven't a clue," Hinton said. "Who cares anyway?"
"We're just kind of interested in how she died," Julia said.
"She was shot, wasn't she?" Hinton asked. "How could you possibly find out the details after all this time?"
"Think, Bobby," Simon said. "You must know a family story about her disappearance. It would have been a big deal at the time."
Bobby Hinton thought.
"Well," he said. "My grandfather told me that Charles didn't have any sons, so he brought Adam in to learn how to run the family business. It was sort of understood that he and the girl would get married, but then she backed out."
"Really?" said Simon, remembering that Adam Bloodworth had insisted in the newspaper that the marriage was still on.
"I think that's the story. Of course, Adam would have been up the creek if she had married someone else, because then maybe he would have been out of a job. But then she disappeared and later was declared dead. So he inherited the whole shebang after all."
"Maybe Adam killed her?" Marcus suggested. "Because she broke off the engagement and he was out in the cold?"
"He had an alibi," Julia said. "He was on a fishing trip."
Simon noticed that Sergeant Gates had put down his plate, taken a small black notebook out of his pocket, and was methodically taking notes. He had the old-fashioned habit of licking his pencil every few minutes.
"Mr. Hinton," Gates said. "Do you have any idea who Adam Bloodworth went fishing with that night?"
"For God's sake," Hinton said. "How on earth would I know something like that!" "Part of your family lore, maybe?" said Julia.
"I haven't got the faintest idea," said Hinton.
"Would you humor us a little, Bobby?" asked Simon. "Call your mother and see if she could add something to your recollections."
"She'll think I've lost my mind, but okay," Hinton said. "You could never prove anything after all these years anyway."
“Maybe not, but I’m going to try,” Simon said.
Chapter Eleven
THE GOOD INTENTIONS OF THE PEOPLE WHO WENT TO ANNE Bloodworth's funeral did not extend to the more macabre activity of following the hearse to the cemetery for internment. There were, after all, no refreshments served during this aspect of the occasion. Only Simon, Julia, Bobby Hinton, the president of the historical society, and the minister stood at the grave site as Anne Bloodworth's coffin was lowered into the ground. There was, of course, a Bloodworth burial plot, and she was interred next to her parents. Some efficient person would see that she had an appropriate gravestone.
Simon heard a small scraping sound behind him. He turned, and saw that his little group was not alone after all. About twenty feet behind him were two black women, one elderly and one younger. The scraping noise had been made by the older woman's cane on the cement walk.
While Simon watched, she sat down heavily on a
Similar Books
