Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 02 - Dead Ringer Read online

  Copyright © 1994 by Toni L.P. Keiner

  All rights reserved.

  Published as an ebook by Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc. in 2013.

  Cover art by Tiger Bright Studios.

  ISBN: 978-1-625670-41-0

  DEDICATION

  My father once toasted my husband and me with these words: “May you always stay in love, but more importantly, may you always stay best friends.”

  This book is dedicated to my best friend, Stephen P. Keiner, Jr.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I want to thank

  Stephen P. Keiner, Jr., Michael Luce, Daniel Schaeffer, and Elizabeth Shaw for reading drafts, offering suggestions, and not minding it when I ignored them.

  Brenda Perry Holt, Peggy Perry, William Perry, and Robin Perry Schnabel for reminding me of how people from North Carolina talk.

  Joan Brandt and John Scognamiglio for taking care of me.

  All of the above plus the following for enthusiasm above and beyond the call of duty: my co-workers at BGS Systems, Alice Cannon, Tony Cannon, John Holt, Amanda Holt, Elizabeth Green, Judith Keiner, Bill Keiner, D’Arcy Keiner, Kathe Keiner, Tamsin Keiner, Stephen P. Keiner, Sr., Kate Mattes, Virginia Raines, Karl Schnabel, Jennifer Schnabel, Derek Schnabel, Michael Schnabel, Kyle Schnabel, Sarah Smith, Bill Spencer, Connie Perry Spencer, Karen Spencer, Kristi Spencer, and the Ward family.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  About the Author

  Also by Toni L.P. Kelner

  Chapter 1

  I do love the fall in Byerly. Some Bostonians I know say that leaf-peeping in New Hampshire is wonderful, but as far as I’m concerned, the colors in North Carolina are just as pretty. I almost wished it was a longer walk to the church.

  As Richard and I crossed the stretch of grass that separated Aunt Maggie’s house from the Byerly First Baptist Church, I saw that the parking lot was already half full and the door to the hall was wide open. Half a dozen people turned to smile and nod as we walked by, and a woman called out, “Hey there! How are y’all doing?”

  “Who was that?” Richard asked in a low voice as we passed.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” I said, smiling and nodding back at the folks.

  “You are sure that we’re at the right family reunion, aren’t you?” Richard said.

  “Fairly sure,” I said, wondering if it would be possible to wander into the wrong gathering. Then I caught sight of a familiar face. “We must be in the right place. There’s Yancy Burnette. You remember him, don’t you? He spoke at Paw’s funeral.”

  We exchanged nods with him, but I don’t think he knew quite who Richard and I were, so we kept going.

  “Why don’t you wear name tags?” Richard asked.

  “I suggested that once,” I said, “but Paw said there wasn’t any need. What difference does it make who’s who? We’re all family, one way or another.”

  “There will be people here we actually know, won’t there?”

  “You know doggone well there will be.” My so-called immediate family included five aunts, two uncles, eleven first cousins, three second cousins, and two cousins by marriage. It was just that my grandfather’s brothers and sisters had all been prolific, meaning that there were lots of more removed cousins to keep track of.

  It had been a few years since I had come to the annual Burnette reunion, but when this one was scheduled during Boston College’s fall break so Richard could take time off, I thought that it would be a good time to come down.

  “Shall we go inside?” I asked.

  “ ‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,’ ” Richard quoted. “King Henry V, Act III, Scene 1.”

  “Richard, you’re not going to quote Shakespeare all day, are you?”

  “Who? Me?”

  “These people already think you Yankees talk funny, and a college professor is particularly suspect. Let’s not encourage them.”

  “Perish the thought,” he said innocently, and we went inside.

  As Aunt Maggie would have said, the people were so thick that you couldn’t have stirred them with a stick.

  “What a crowd,” Richard said. “I didn’t know there were this many people in Byerly.”

  “They don’t all live in Byerly,” I said. “Some are in Dudley Shoals or Granite Falls or Saw Mills. A few moved up to Hickory.”

  “All the way to Hickory?” Richard asked, sounding amazed. “Goodness gracious.”

  “The kitchen is over there,” I said, ignoring his sarcasm. “Why don’t you go drop off the lasagna?” He was carrying the pan that was our donation to the upcoming feast.

  “I don’t mind if I do. It’s getting heavy.” He made his way through a crowd of women clustered around the doorway.

  I looked around to see who else was there, but didn’t see anybody I knew. Then a voice made itself heard over the roar of conversation.

  “Laurie Anne? Is that you?” my cousin Vasti squealed.

  I managed not to wince. “Hi, Vasti.”

  “Hi? Is that the way people act up North? You come give me a great big hug.”

  As hugs went, it was no great shakes, but then Vasti had to be sure that her dress didn’t get wrinkled. “What a pretty outfit,” Vasti said, “but I think it’s missing something.” She reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a bright red button with white letters that said BUMGARNER FOR CITY COUNCIL. “Let me put this on.”

  I obediently stood still for her to pin it to my dress. “How’s the campaign going?” I asked.

  “Pretty good, but I’m still worried about Big Bill Walters. He hasn’t endorsed Arthur yet and it’s only a little over two weeks until the election! I don’t know why he won’t go ahead and formally approve Arthur. Everybody knows that he’ll do a wonderful job.”

  “I imagine it will work out, Vasti.”

  “I sure hope so.” She turned and saw someone coming in the door. “Aunt Nora!”

  “Hey there, Vasti,” Aunt Nora said, and gave her a quick hug. “It’s awfully good to see you, Laurie Anne. Just let me hug your neck.”

  I hugged her neck, and the rest of her besides. Plump and an inch or so shorter than I am, Aunt Nora looked like the stereotype of an aunt. She was just as nice as she looked, and right much tougher.

  “When did you and Richard get into town?” Aunt Nora asked. “I was hoping to see you at church.”

  “We didn’t get to Aunt Maggie’s house until after eleven last night, so we had to cook this morning.” Actually
, Richard had made the lasagna while I watched, but that was close enough.

  “I’ve got something for you, Aunt Nora,” Vasti said, reaching into her purse for another button.

  “Thank you, Vasti,” Aunt Nora said, “but I’ve already got a button on. See?”

  “So you do,” Vasti admitted. “I think it’s so important for all of us to support Arthur as much as we can.”

  “Where is the future city councilor?” I asked.

  “Arthur had some campaigning to do, but he’ll be here shortly.”

  “What about your mama? Daphine is coming, isn’t she?” Aunt Nora asked.

  “Of course she’s coming,” Vasti said. “She’s just running late. Look, there’s Uncle Ruben and Aunt Nellie. I haven’t given them their buttons yet.” Vasti clattered away.

  “Why wouldn’t Aunt Daphine come?” I asked Aunt Nora.

  “I just hadn’t spoken to her lately, and I wasn’t sure,” Aunt Nora said.

  “Why not?” I asked. My four aunts usually talked to one another at least once a day. “You two aren’t feuding, are you?”

  “No, nothing like that. She’s just been acting kind of funny lately. Not like herself.”

  “Really?” Aunt Daphine was one of the more stable personalities in the family. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m just not sure, Laurie Anne.” She looked around the crowded room. “We’ll talk about it later, all right?”

  I nodded, feeling uneasy.

  “I haven’t seen Aunt Maggie,” Aunt Nora said. “Didn’t she come with y’all?”

  “She said she wasn’t ready yet, so we should come on without her. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

  “Willis and Buddy are outside somewhere, but Thaddeous had to go get his date.”

  “A date? Really? You know what that means.”

  Surprisingly, Aunt Nora did not look pleased. “You don’t believe that old tale, do you?”

  “It’s always happened that way before. Vasti brought Arthur, Linwood brought Sue, and I brought Richard. Plus all of your generation brought their boyfriends before they got married. If a Burnette brings someone to the reunion, they end up married.”

  Aunt Nora shook her head. “I don’t know that it would be a good idea this time. Thaddeous barely knows Joleen and they’ve only gone out once before now.”

  “One date and he’s bringing her to the reunion? She must be something special.”

  “Just wait till you meet her,” she said, still shaking her head.

  Richard finally made it out of the kitchen and came to give Aunt Nora a hug.

  “What took you so long?” I asked.

  “Comparing recipes. The ladies in there had to have a taste of the lasagna when I told them that I made it myself, and then they wanted the recipe.” He looked terribly smug. “I don’t know if there will be any left by the time lunch is served.”

  “Then I better go get myself a bite right now,” Aunt Nora said. “I’ll see y’all later.” She headed for the kitchen.

  “So who else is here that I know?” Richard asked. “I don’t want to miss out on any hugs.”

  I looked around the room. “There’s Aunt Nellie and Uncle Ruben,” I said, and we started walking in their direction.

  “ ‘This is the short and the long of it. The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II, Scene 2,” Richard said.

  “Now stop that,” I said, but he just grinned. Admittedly, Aunt Nellie was a full head taller than Uncle Ruben, just as her shiny black hair and dark eyes were a sharp contrast to his light brown hair and pale blue eyes, but I didn’t think that it was polite to mention it.

  We exchanged greetings and hugs, and Uncle Ruben said, “I hear the water isn’t too good up there in Boston. The harbor filled with garbage and all.”

  “It is pretty bad,” I admitted. “We buy bottled water ourselves.”

  “It’s a big health concern these days. Have you ever considered a water filtration system? It could save you a lot of money in the long run.”

  Now I knew what money–making scheme they were involved in this time. “Actually,” I said, making up an excuse as I went along, “our lease forbids us from doing anything with the plumbing.”

  “This doesn’t go on your plumbing,” Aunt Nellie said. “You screw it onto your faucet.”

  “Well,” I said, trying to think of something else. “I don’t think—” Then a trio in red, blue, and yellow arrived to save me.

  “Mama! Stop trying to sell those filters. This is a family reunion, remember?” Carlelle said. At least I thought it was Carlelle. With the triplets, sometimes I wasn’t sure. They all had the same buxom builds, hazel eyes, and brown hair curled into the same elaborate hairstyle. They usually dressed alike, too, although at least they were in different colors today.

  “You too, Daddy,” Odelle chimed in. “Laurie Anne and Richard did not come all the way to North Carolina to talk about dirty water.”

  “We just thought they might be interested,” Aunt Nellie said. “What with the fluoride in the water, and all.”

  Ideile said firmly, “I’m sure they’ll call you later if they want to talk about it.” Then she relented a bit, seeing that her parents looked so disappointed. “Let’s us go see Cousin Herman. His trailer isn’t on city water, so maybe he’d want one of your filters.”

  “Is that right?” Uncle Ruben said. “Then maybe I should mention it to him. We’ll see y’all later.” Ideile led the two of them away.

  “Sorry about that,” Carlelle said. “You know how they are when they get started on a new project. Sometimes I think they’re more like the children and we’re more like the parents.”

  “Thanks for rescuing us,” I said.

  “That’s all right. We were in such a hurry to distract Mama and Daddy, that we didn’t even say hello like we should.”

  That meant more hugs, of course. I was glad the sisters were wearing different colors so I wouldn’t hug one more than she was entitled to.

  Richard asked, “Was setting them after Cousin Herman altogether kind?”

  Odelle grinned. “I never did like Herman.”

  “Did you hear Thaddeous is bringing a date to the reunion?” I asked.

  “Really?” the two sisters said in unison.

  “I didn’t know he was dating anyone serious,” Carlelle said.

  “Aunt Nora said he and Joleen had only gone out once before now,” I said.

  “Not Joleen Dodd?” Odelle said.

  “I don’t think Aunt Nora mentioned her last name.”

  “You don’t suppose it could be Joleen Dodd, do you?” Carlelle asked Odelle.

  “I know he’s been mooning after her ever since she started working at the mill, but I didn’t think she’d give him the time of day,” Odelle replied.

  “I don’t know why not. She’ll go out with anything else in pants,” Carlelle said.

  “If he’s got enough money to suit her, that is,” Odelle said. “And Lord knows a wedding ring doesn’t stop her.”

  Richard finally broke in to ask, “Who is Joleen Dodd?”

  “She’s the receptionist at the mill,” Carlelle said.

  “I assume from your reaction that she is not a nice lady,” Richard asked.

  Odelle snorted. “Not any kind of a lady, if you ask me.

  “Trouble looking for a place to happen,” Cartelle added.

  “She doesn’t sound like Thaddeous’s type,” I said doubtfully, “but I know he wouldn’t bring just anyone to the reunion.”

  “Maybe it’s not the same Joleen,” Richard said.

  “I don’t know of another Joleen in Byerly,” Carlelle said. “We’ll go track down Aunt Nora and ask her. Bye now.”

  They moved off quickly.

  “Why all the fuss about Thaddeous bringing Joleen Dodd to the reunion?” Richard asked.

  “Don’t you remember the Burnette tradition?” I asked. “Every time one of us brings a date to the reunion, that person ends up married into the family.�
��

  “How could I have forgotten?”

  “I should think you’d be scarred for life from the first time I brought you to the reunion.” Uncle Buddy had wasted no time in telling Richard that he was destined for the altar. Richard had turned white as a sheet, and didn’t quote Shakespeare for the rest of the day.

  “You could have warned me ahead of time,” Richard said mildly.

  I grinned. “My mama didn’t raise no fool. I knew a good thing when I saw it.” It seemed an appropriate time for a kiss, and Richard evidently agreed.

  “Look at the lovebirds,” Vasti’s unmistakable voice said, and I looked up to see her and Arthur. “Still acting like they’re on their honeymoon after all this time.”

  “Thou—,” Richard began, but when I glared at him, he changed it to, “Hello Vasti, Arthur. Or should I say Councilor Bumgarner?”

  Arthur grinned his best politician grin. “Just Arthur will do fine. No call to put on airs around here. Besides, I haven’t won the election yet.”

  “But everybody knows you’re going to win,” Vasti said. “Oh! I haven’t given Richard his button yet.” She pulled out a badge from her bag and handed it to him.

  “Thank you,” he said, pinning it on. “I’m just sorry I can’t help stuff the ballot box on your behalf. What’s the opposition like?”

  “There isn’t any,” I said.

  Richard raised one eyebrow. “Then why the concern?”

  “Because of Big Bill Walters,” Vasti said as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

  “Byerly’s town council doesn’t have a set number of members,” I explained. “If somebody wants on the council, he just runs on a yes–or–no ballot. The trick is that if Big Bill Walters doesn’t want you on the council, you’re not going to make it. And you have to campaign to make sure he knows you’re sincere.”

  “I see,” Richard said, though I could see that he thought it was strange. I thought so, too, but that’s the way it was done in Byerly.

  “These small town elections probably don’t seem very important to someone from Boston,” Arthur said.

  “On the contrary,” Richard said. “It’s the local politicians that really make a difference in this country. When you need something done, you should always start in your own town.”