The Pecan Man(33)

I slipped the check into my pocketbook and snapped it shut. Then I smiled sweetly at her, but narrowed my eyes and said pointedly, “If I hear one word that even makes me think a mutual acquaintance knows my personal business, I’ll be on Steve Haskins’ doorstep so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Walter had been on the board of directors at the bank and a frequent golfing partner of the bank president. Seeley knew it was no empty threat.

I knew I was being a bit touchy about the matter, but I felt no regret at my pre-emptive behavior. The older I get, the less I care what people think of me, but I care a great deal about people knowing my business.

I arrived at the Clerk’s office promptly at 10:00 a.m., paid the bail and signed the prerequisite documents. Then I took the stairs to Judge Owen’s office on the third floor of the courthouse. Clara Jean was at the coffee pot when I walked through the door. Either someone tipped her off as to my arrival or she simply counted on my punctuality, because she had an extra cup already poured and in her hand.

“Good morning, Mrs. Beckworth,” she smiled with genuine hospitality and grace. “Cream and sugar, right?”

I was impressed. “Thank you, Clara Jean.” I smiled and took the proffered mug.

“Judge Odell would like to speak with you personally,” she continued. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“I’m in no hurry,” I replied.

She returned to her desk and sat, moving a stack of files to the right, out of her way and out of my sight.

“You all ready for Christmas?” she asked pleasantly.

“Just about,” I answered. “I’m having some company this year.”

“Oh, I know,” she said quickly. “Judge Odell filled me in. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You mean Mr. Mims,” I said. “Yes, he’ll be staying with me, too, but I was referring to Blanche and her children. I’ve invited them to have Christmas with me.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” she blurted. “Why, that’s quite a houseful, isn’t it?”

She meant nothing by it, I knew, but the incident with Patrice had put me on alert for bigotry of any kind.

“My house has been empty for years. It will be nice to fill it with family,” I said, trying not to sound snippy, but not succeeding.

“Of course it will,” she smiled. “Mr. Beckworth hasn’t been gone that long. I know how hard it is to be alone sometimes.”

And she did know. I instantly regretted my wariness. Clara Jean came along late in her parents’ lives. Clarice died of breast cancer several years prior and her father had a stroke less than a year afterward. The last I had heard he was still languishing in a nursing home nearby. Sometimes I could just cut my tongue out.

“We would love to have you join us, Clara Jean,” I said gently. “We’ll be having a big dinner Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, thank you for asking, Mrs. Beckworth, but…”

“I understand completely,” I said.

“No, no…” she trailed off again. “It’s just that - I haven’t really told anyone yet.”

She looked over her shoulder at the closed door behind her. I braced myself for the confession of the century.

“I may have a date Christmas Eve.” I swear she giggled.

“A date!” I can be a little too loud when I’m caught off guard.

“Shhhh…” Clara Jean warned, nodding toward the closed door behind her. “He doesn’t know yet.”

“Why would he care?” Lord, I’m nosy.

She looked over her shoulder again and whispered loud enough for me to hear, “I don’t want him to worry.”

“Poopsie? Worried?”

“Mrs. Beckworth, I have strict orders to correct you every time you call him that.” Ever on guard, that girl is.

“You know about our deal then.” I shrugged. “Am I allowed to call him Harley?”

“You and you alone,” She said with an amused grin. “Judge Odell has been like a father to me. I don’t want him to know about my date until I see where it’s going.”

That little bit of information put to rest any of the rumors I had ever heard.

I got the feeling Clara Jean wanted to tell someone her news. I suddenly felt maternal. “Well, he won’t hear it from me. Anything else you want to share about this mystery man? I’m all ears and no mouth where you are concerned.”

“Well, I’ve known him all my life, but I hadn’t seen him in years. I ran into him when I took some papers over to the jail the other day. We got to talking about Christmas and how neither of us had plans, and I‘m not sure who even asked who, but suddenly we had a date for Christmas Eve!”

I reached out and put my hand on hers. “Clara Jean, I couldn’t be happier for you. I hope you have the merriest Christmas ever.”

Just then the door flew open and Harley Odell appeared, taking far more than his share of space in the room, as usual.

“Well, if it isn’t the ever-punctual Ora Lee,” the honorable judge boomed. “You ready to take care of this business?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I allowed with more than a hint of resignation.

“Well, come on in and we’ll go over a few details before I release Mr. Mims.”