Charlotte's Story (Bliss House Novels)

The sidewalks and curbs had run out, so I pulled over to the shoulder in front of a lot where a new Baptist church was being built.

Not all the county deputies were known to me, but in my sideview mirror I saw Dennis Mueller, the son of Karla Mueller who did my hair every Thursday, get out of the black-and-white patrol car. He had his mother’s squarish face and light-brown hair. My vanity hadn’t yet returned, but I touched the ends of my own hair where it brushed my ear. I hadn’t been to see her in weeks. At least it was Dennis, and not his boss, Sheriff Hugh Walters, who was a close friend of both Press’s and mine. I hadn’t seen him since the funeral, and although he’d been kind, I hoped not to see him again anytime soon.

I rolled down my window.

“I’m so sorry, Dennis. I don’t know why I didn’t stop. I must have been thinking about getting home.” My second lie of the afternoon.

“It was dangerous the way you went through that intersection, Mrs. Bliss. Someone might have been hurt.”

He was so young, only out of high school three or four years.

“I understand. Of course. What do you need?” I fumbled in my purse for my license.

When I gave it to him, he only glanced at it before returning it to me. The rain had stopped, but there were still a few drops scattered over his midnight-blue cap.

“That’s all right, Mrs. Bliss. I’m not going to give you a ticket today. Just be more careful. We’ve had more than our share of wrecks in the county lately.”

“That’s very nice of you. I promise to be more careful.”

We fell silent for a moment. I was about to ask him to say hello to his mother for me when he spoke again. He pushed his hat back just a bit on his head.

“I sure was sorry to hear about your daughter, ma’am. My mother was very upset, too. She said she was a sweet little girl.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “She gave Eva her first haircut. I don’t think anyone else could have done it as well.”

Dennis Mueller nodded. He looked sad and uncomfortable.

“She’s given a lot of kids their first haircut. Sometimes the little girls’ daddies come in, complaining that their wives brought the girls in without telling them first. You’d be surprised how many of them don’t want their daughters’ hair cut at all.”

I didn’t know quite what to say, but knew he was trying to be friendly.

“I know this isn’t any of my business, ma’am, but everyone says you were at home that Monday it happened.”

As his words sank in, my heart started to pound. Were they thinking of prosecuting me, after all? Hugh had told us not to worry. He considered it an accident and didn’t see any reason for there to be an inquest.

“I. . . .” The words wouldn’t come. As I sat there, several cars passed by, but I was oblivious as to who was inside.

He spoke hurriedly. “I only ask, Mrs. Bliss, because I thought I saw you and your husband turn up your driveway in a hurry that afternoon. I was on my way out of town to a welfare check at the other end of the county, and your husband’s car went by pretty fast. Not so fast as I would’ve necessarily pulled him over, but pretty fast. But, pardon me, everyone was saying that you were home by yourself when it happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

He looked down at the ground like an abashed child. “It’s not like you’re someone who would leave a couple of little kids alone in that house. I wondered when the sheriff told us, that’s all. I told him, but he said I was wrong. I just wanted to be sure.”

“That she didn’t die alone?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It was like Karla Mueller to have a son who noticed things. She knew everything about everyone, and could tell if you were having a bad day the moment you put your hand on the doorknob of her shop.

“No, Dennis. I was in the house. I’m the one who was responsible.”

“But I was sure I saw you late that afternoon, ma’am.”

“It must have been my friend, Rachel, coming to the house with my husband.” Though I had never thought to ask why she had already been there when I awoke. Of course it had been the farthest thing from my mind after I learned what had happened to Eva.

He watched me a moment as though trying to decide if I was telling the truth. If I hadn’t been in a mild state of shock from the suddenness of his question, I might have accused him of being rude. He had said “that house.” I realized that he wasn’t as concerned with what I had or hadn’t done as he was that it had happened at that house.





Chapter 9



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