was one of the most respected and loved men in this county. Didn’t have one single enemy far as I know. And the man that Maple Sullivan was spooning with was gone same time as her. Neither were ever heard from again. His best friend and his wife. What an old, sad story.” She closed her eyes briefly and shook his head.
“The man she supposedly had an affair with was Garvey Sullivan’s best friend?” Edna hadn’t told me that. Their life was beginning to sound like one of those afternoon talk shows . . . or a soap opera.
“Name was Mitchell Warner. We called him Mitch.”
I stared at her. “As in the sporting goods store Warners?” The Warner family had owned a sporting goods store downtown for over sixty years. They were a prominent local family who spanned five generations. One of the Warner boys, Frankie, was my age. He and I danced to every song at our junior high school graduation dance. He’d gone into the Navy after high school, become a SEAL, then after ten years decided to join the family business. Last I heard, he worked at one of their new stores up in Paso Robles.
“That’s the ones. Mitch was Micah’s younger brother.”
“Micah’s the oldest, right?” Micah was Frankie’s father.
“Yep, he’s still going strong too, I hear. Works at the store in Paso Robles twice a week. Turned eighty-seven last month. Mitch was ten years younger than him. There was six of them, all boys. Mitch was the baby, which is probably why he stole someone’s wife.”
I protested her cock-eyed psychology. “Wait a minute, Nadine. I believe somewhat in the study of birth order, but I don’t think being the youngest makes him more prone to adultery.”
“Spoiled rotten, he was. I ought to know, went to school with him clean through the twelfth grade. Always got what he wanted, and as I heard it, he wanted Maple Sullivan. There you go.”
“Okay, so the rumor was that Mitch and Maple were lovers. Is there any proof?”
“They say she was pregnant when she ran away right after she killed Garvey. Had to be Mitch’s.”
I didn’t add “allegedly” except in my mind. “Who is ‘they’? And why did it have to be Mitch’s? It could have been her husband’s.”
She patted the left side of her stiff hair. “Jemima Smith. She worked for old Doc Goldstein until his business fell off so bad during the war. His wife was pure German from Germany. They moved away about 1944. Winter, I think it was. Just up and left his office and Jemima had to pack it all up without a lick of help. Have to say, though, he did send her some money after the war was over. From Canada, I hear.”
“So she told you Maple Sullivan was pregnant.”
“Yes, ma’am. It was right there in her file. She wasn’t too far along.”
So much for doctor-patient confidentiality, I thought.
“Then that hussy ups, shoots her husband dead, and runs away. Now, why would she do that if it was his? Guess we know where she’ll be spending eternity, that one.” Nadine’s eyes glistened with anger.
I wasn’t about to start discussing eternal justice with Nadine when she was so worked up. I was curious, though, about why this made her so angry.
“Did you know Garvey very well?” I asked.
Her spine straightened just a centimeter. “He ate lunch here every day. Tuna salad and a dill pickle. Iced tea and pie of the day. He liked raspberry best, but would eat anything but rhubarb. Sometimes he ate dinner here too, when his wife was too busy writing away at those stories of hers to be bothered to cook.”
“You remember what he ordered? His favorite pies?”
Her face turned a dull red beneath her pink face powder when she slipped out of the booth for a second time. “I remember what you eat every day too, young woman. I do all my regulars because I’m a good waitress. Now if you’re done badgering me, I’ll get that cheeseburger, fries, and vanilla Coke ready for you.” Her eyes challenged me to say anything more about Garvey
“The man she supposedly had an affair with was Garvey Sullivan’s best friend?” Edna hadn’t told me that. Their life was beginning to sound like one of those afternoon talk shows . . . or a soap opera.
“Name was Mitchell Warner. We called him Mitch.”
I stared at her. “As in the sporting goods store Warners?” The Warner family had owned a sporting goods store downtown for over sixty years. They were a prominent local family who spanned five generations. One of the Warner boys, Frankie, was my age. He and I danced to every song at our junior high school graduation dance. He’d gone into the Navy after high school, become a SEAL, then after ten years decided to join the family business. Last I heard, he worked at one of their new stores up in Paso Robles.
“That’s the ones. Mitch was Micah’s younger brother.”
“Micah’s the oldest, right?” Micah was Frankie’s father.
“Yep, he’s still going strong too, I hear. Works at the store in Paso Robles twice a week. Turned eighty-seven last month. Mitch was ten years younger than him. There was six of them, all boys. Mitch was the baby, which is probably why he stole someone’s wife.”
I protested her cock-eyed psychology. “Wait a minute, Nadine. I believe somewhat in the study of birth order, but I don’t think being the youngest makes him more prone to adultery.”
“Spoiled rotten, he was. I ought to know, went to school with him clean through the twelfth grade. Always got what he wanted, and as I heard it, he wanted Maple Sullivan. There you go.”
“Okay, so the rumor was that Mitch and Maple were lovers. Is there any proof?”
“They say she was pregnant when she ran away right after she killed Garvey. Had to be Mitch’s.”
I didn’t add “allegedly” except in my mind. “Who is ‘they’? And why did it have to be Mitch’s? It could have been her husband’s.”
She patted the left side of her stiff hair. “Jemima Smith. She worked for old Doc Goldstein until his business fell off so bad during the war. His wife was pure German from Germany. They moved away about 1944. Winter, I think it was. Just up and left his office and Jemima had to pack it all up without a lick of help. Have to say, though, he did send her some money after the war was over. From Canada, I hear.”
“So she told you Maple Sullivan was pregnant.”
“Yes, ma’am. It was right there in her file. She wasn’t too far along.”
So much for doctor-patient confidentiality, I thought.
“Then that hussy ups, shoots her husband dead, and runs away. Now, why would she do that if it was his? Guess we know where she’ll be spending eternity, that one.” Nadine’s eyes glistened with anger.
I wasn’t about to start discussing eternal justice with Nadine when she was so worked up. I was curious, though, about why this made her so angry.
“Did you know Garvey very well?” I asked.
Her spine straightened just a centimeter. “He ate lunch here every day. Tuna salad and a dill pickle. Iced tea and pie of the day. He liked raspberry best, but would eat anything but rhubarb. Sometimes he ate dinner here too, when his wife was too busy writing away at those stories of hers to be bothered to cook.”
“You remember what he ordered? His favorite pies?”
Her face turned a dull red beneath her pink face powder when she slipped out of the booth for a second time. “I remember what you eat every day too, young woman. I do all my regulars because I’m a good waitress. Now if you’re done badgering me, I’ll get that cheeseburger, fries, and vanilla Coke ready for you.” Her eyes challenged me to say anything more about Garvey
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