“He did threaten Robson’s family,” Gabriel conceded, “but at the time I thought he was just blowing off steam. Maybe not, though.”
“If he’s pushed to the limit and makes good on his threats, he’ll come after Trudy. Robson doesn’t have any other relatives around here that I know of.”
“I’ll talk to him. After everything that’s gone down lately, he’ll want Trudy’s home to be secured.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved.
“You got it, babe.”
A moment later, we hung up and I started the car. I glanced at Mom, sitting in the passenger seat. “I have a question. What’s with Amelia?”
Mom sighed. “I know she’s odd, but she’s very devoted to Trudy.”
“Do you know the story? How did they meet?”
“They met in the hospital when she was laid up with a broken leg.”
“Okay, so Trudy needed help getting around on crutches, so she hired her. That’s understandable, I guess.”
“No, sweetie,” Mom said. “Amelia was the one with the broken leg. Trudy offered her a place to stay until she was back on her feet.”
“Really?” That was a surprise. “So Trudy was the good Samaritan, not the other way around.”
“If you know Trudy, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. “Trudy is a wonderful, generous person.”
“She still volunteers at the hospital. Amelia drops her off and waits for her in the car.”
I laughed in surprise. “She just sits outside? She won’t go inside and volunteer, too?”
“No.”
“She’s a piece of work,” I said, shaking my head.
“I know it might not be obvious, but Amelia has been very good for Trudy.”
“I don’t see how. She’s just so . . . mean.”
“She’s fiercely protective.”
“You say tomato . . .” I sighed, turning onto the highway. “Have you known Amelia a long time? I don’t remember seeing her around town before she moved in with Trudy.”
“Amelia was never a member of the Fellowship, if that’s what you mean. But then, neither was Trudy. I don’t actually know how long Amelia’s lived in the area, but I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t around. She used to run a house-cleaning business with Harmony Byers.”
“Harmony Byers? Crystal and Melody’s mother?”
“Yes.” She saw the look on my face and added, “Harmony’s a lot more sedate than her two girls.”
“Thank God for that.” It was a good thing we were stopped at a light, or my shock might’ve caused me to run the car into a side ditch. I’d gone to school with Crystal Byers. She and her sister, Melody, were two scary little peas in a pod, to say the least. The very least.
“Is Amelia an Ogunite?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. The Byers family belonged to the Church of the True Blood of Ogun, a local religious group whose zealous members lived a few miles away in an area known as the Hollow. Their religion taught them to honor the creative spirit of the earth, but some of their adherents took that credo to a whole new level when it came to living off the land. To put it bluntly, they were gun-toting survivalists likely to shoot first and ask questions later. They were also brazen evangelists who insisted on spreading the message of Ogun to anyone standing within earshot.
If Amelia was an Ogunite, it might explain why she was so hostile to me. I’d run afoul of some church members in the not-too-distant past.
“I think Amelia might’ve dabbled in church philosophy a bit,” Mom said. “Or maybe she just pretended to do it for Harmony’s sake. But it didn’t take, and I have a feeling that was why the partnership broke up.”
“Lucky for Amelia,” I muttered. I waited for traffic to clear before turning onto the Lane. “I can’t imagine anyone being happy to work with the Byers for any length of time.”
“Who can say? It might’ve been her broken leg that made it impossible for her to clean houses. When Trudy met Amelia in the hospital, I understand she was a pitiful sight. Trudy brought her home, fixed her up, and gave her a job.”
“Trudy is a good person,” I said again, because especially in this case, it bore repeating.
“Much better than any of us.” Mom and I exchanged smiles. The truth was, Mom was also one of the most caring people in the whole world.
“I’ll be interested to meet Trudy’s friend Elizabeth,” I said, then remembered Mom’s conversation with Trudy. “And speaking of Elizabeth, I hear you like that name. I believe the words you used to describe it were classical and solid.”
Mom’s smile was smug. “If you believed me, then so did Trudy.”
I frowned as I came to the Stop sign at Vivaldi Way. “So you were just handing her a line?”
“Of course not. We were having a civilized chat. Elizabeth is a lovely name. It’s just not to my taste. But I was determined to say whatever it took to keep the conversation going so that you could do what you had to do.”
I rarely gave my mother marks for subtlety, but once in a while she surprised me. “Good work, Mom.”
She flashed me a sly smile. “Just doing my job.”