Sometimes The Smallest Things Take Up The Most Room In Your Heart
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The next day, Thursday, was the busiest day of all. In addition to helping the townspeople with their chores and working on the ranch’s laundry and ironing, Mattie spent most of her time running errands in town.
At 8:00 a.m., she pulled up in front of the general store for her first stop. At 10:30 she picked up the mail and then dropped at the post office for delivery. That took up one whole hour; then she had lunch at the bakery and waited two hours in line so she could pay her property tax bill at city hall. It wasn’t until 3:00 p.m. that she finally got back home.
“Mattie, Mattie!” called out Mary from the porch before she even reached her door. “We need you to do a job for us.”
Mattie opened the front door and found the three women standing by Mary’s rocking chair on the porch. Mattie greeted each in turn as they entered the house.
“How are things going with Miss Emily?” asked Mary as she sat down at the kitchen table. She was holding an envelope with Mattie’s name written across it in her hand. “I hope you’ve been able to get along with her.”
“Very well,” answered Mattie, pulling out her chair. “And I’m pleased to tell you we’re all getting along fine now.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Mary, handing Mattie the envelope. “We think this letter is very important.”
“Why? Is someone ill or did a family member die?” asked Mattie.
“Both, actually.”
Mattie opened the letter and read it aloud. “‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt,’ it begins. ‘We would like to extend our most sincere apologies for the unfortunate incident that took place last Friday afternoon. We’d also like to offer our deepest sympathy for your loss.'”
Mattie looked up at Mary, surprised.
“What happened?” asked Mattie. “I thought you said no one had died.”
Mary took the letter from Mattie and continued reading. “The fire chief says he suspects the accident was caused by a short circuit in the laundry room’s electric dryer. It looks like it started while the machine was running, and then ignited some rags that were being cleaned in there.”
“So, you mean to tell me, someone was killed in this very house?” exclaimed Mattie.
“Yes,” said Mary. “A young boy named Stanley Miller, about thirteen years old.”
Mattie put her hands over her mouth to hide the horror on her face.
“He was a good boy,” continued Mary. “It’s just a terrible tragedy. He probably went to see his mother in town, and got trapped inside the burning laundry room.”
Mattie shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How could this have happened?”
“Apparently, the laundry room was located in an area of the house that had a bad habit of catching fire.” Mary paused before adding, “In fact, I think that’s where the previous owners died. I think they must have burned in there. Poor things.”
Mattie sat down with a thump. This time there was nothing she could do except stare at the floor and mourn the dead boy.
“I’m so sorry,” said Mary. “What will his family need to bury him?”
“His body is still at the morgue,” explained Mattie. “But I’ll see if I can get it released to me today so I can take him home. What exactly will we need to give them for the funeral?”
“They may have already arranged a grave or they might not have. It really depends on their religion and whether the deceased was a member of a church.”
Mattie looked up to find Mary looking at her. “Are you a religious person?” asked Mary.
“Well… I guess you’d call me a churchgoer,” answered Mattie.
“That’s what counts most. God doesn’t expect perfection. He just wants us to try to do our best. And I think he looks more at the heart than the actions.”
Mattie nodded as she listened. But, her mind wasn’t on Mary’s words; instead, it was wondering if there would be enough money for a proper burial. If the family couldn’t afford one, then maybe they’d have to dig a grave in an open field. That wouldn’t do much for Stanley.
Mary’s eyes widened as she read the letter again. “Do you know why they are asking for your help with this?”
“No,” replied Mattie. “They’re probably doing it because the Miller family lives in the city.”
“You don’t think it was because they were black, do you? Or that’s why it happened.”
“It could be,” answered Mattie. “Or, it might have been that Stanley got trapped in the burning laundry room. There’s no way to tell without talking to his mother and learning more about their finances. And even then, the problem could be with the wiring. It seems to be something they should have taken care of long before now.”
“Yes,” agreed Mary. “I agree. But we need to make sure there’s no bias here.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” asked Mattie.
“We’ll see if anyone in town is against them because they’re black. For example, the grocery store owner might not be willing to sell them anything.” Mary paused and then added, “In fact, it’s very possible they haven’t had any dealings with him yet.”
Mattie leaned forward and took Mary’s hand. “Thank you for telling me all this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Mary. “I want you to know I’m happy to do it. We’ve both lost people in our lives, so this might be a good way for us to help someone else.”
“Are you still sure about doing this? Won’t it take up a lot of your time?”
“It will,” admitted Mary. “But I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“Why would you say that?”
Mary leaned forward to kiss Mattie on the forehead. “Because I won’t let anyone else help you.”
***
The funeral home director looked at the envelope that had arrived from the fire chief. He shook his head in disbelief when he read the contents. “I can’t believe it!” he muttered as he put down the letter. “It looks like this man was just trying to cover his tracks. The cause of death is clearly electrical.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar box. Pulling one out, he lit it. “Whoever caused this is going to pay.”
Mattie returned to her hotel room after the funeral service. She’d met the family briefly but hadn’t wanted to be around them for too long. Instead, she took Stanley’s body home before returning to the firehouse.
A short while later, Mary joined her.
“Well?” asked Mattie.
“You did fine,” answered Mary. “Did you see the way the family looked at you? You know, I think they might be your future neighbors.”
“How do you know?” asked Mattie.
“The house is only a few blocks away.”
Mattie nodded as she thought of their conversation about not giving up on helping others. It was an old idea. But, it was something that seemed to matter more now than ever before.
“I need to get some lunch,” said Mattie. “Are you coming along?”
Mary gave her a quick hug and then left the room with her.
Mattie closed her door and leaned back against it. After Mary told her that she’d want to be there at the funeral home, Mattie had tried to talk herself out of it. But, she couldn’t stop thinking about Stanley and his mother, who was probably already distraught over losing a husband. She also wondered how much time it would take Mary to arrange everything for the Miller family.
Mattie reached into her pocket and pulled out Stanley’s letter. She opened it to read the message once more. The words that she’d written to his family didn’t seem to be enough. How could she help Stanley’s family when all she was good at was cooking and cleaning? She was still trying to come up with ways when her phone rang.
“Yes!” answered Mattie as soon as she heard the caller ID. “What do you need?”
“It’s a call about the fire,” said the dispatcher. “But, the chief wants to speak to you personally. We’re sending a police officer to meet you outside the firehouse.”
“That shouldn’t take long,” responded Mattie. “Tell the officer to wait a few minutes before he gets here.”
“Why?” asked the dispatcher. “Didn’t we get the fire under control?”
“We did,” replied Mattie. “But, there might have been some foul play. We’re going to need to examine the scene carefully.”
The line went silent while she waited for the next question. But, the dispatcher simply said, “You’ll need to hurry then.”
“Right,” agreed Mattie. “I’ll be right down.”
She hung up and reached for the keys to her car before opening her door. The engine had barely started when Mattie stepped out of her car and hurried toward the fire station.
A short time later, Mattie left the station behind. She drove back into town and pulled up in front of the Miller house. The chief was already there with the police officer and they were examining the backyard.
“This is where we found Stanley’s body,” said the chief.
“Are you sure he was electrocuted?” asked Mattie.
He nodded. “When we saw how badly burned he was, we suspected it might have been an electrical fire. And, now that we’ve discovered his body in this spot, I’m leaning toward calling the death an accident. If you think otherwise, go ahead and give your opinion. But, don’t tell me until we’re done looking at everything.”
Mattie’s stomach dropped when she read the words. This wasn’t just an accident! Mary had said there was foul play involved. But, if the chief believed it was an accident, then he would let it go. He was just doing what anyone else would do. And, as long as Mattie was there to help, she’d keep trying.
The chief handed her a photograph of Stanley and told her to take her time.
Mattie put her hand on Stanley’s shoulder. His clothing was still dry, which meant that he’d been dead less than twelve hours. She bent over him and felt for his pulse. But, she couldn’t find one.
“Does he have a heart condition?” asked Mattie. “Did the paramedics check his heartbeat at the hospital?”
“I don’t know,” answered the chief. “But, the boy was only nineteen years old. No doubt, his heart didn’t work right.”
“What are you saying?” asked Mattie.
“We believe someone killed Stanley and set his body on fire to hide the evidence,” he replied. “The question is who? Are you going to charge the mother or son?”
“Why not both?” asked Mattie. “They’re equally guilty.”
“No,” said the chief. “Stanley was working at a railroad job before he was electrocuted. His mother doesn’t have any income. The family might have been living off the money he earned.”
Mattie couldn’t hold back a sob as she leaned down to touch Stanley’s forehead. It felt like he was breathing but she knew it couldn’t be. He was too badly burned to breathe.
“Don’t tell me that he died in an accident!” cried Mattie. “Tell me you found someone else with a motive!”
“It was an accident,” repeated the chief. “Just because you can’t see a motive doesn’t mean we didn’t find one.”
Mattie pulled away from her son’s body.
“Do you think there was foul play?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “But, no one will believe us unless we catch the right person. Now that you’re here, I’ll be able to charge both of them.”
Mattie felt tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away before she bent down to speak to the police officer.
“You’re going to need to talk to the coroner,” she said. “I’m sure Stanley’s death is a homicide, but you’re going to want to look into the circumstances surrounding it. I’ll meet you at the sheriff’s office to go over our findings.”
Mattie turned to the chief and asked what the officer had found so far. He explained how Stanley had been burned beyond recognition. Mattie got into her car and drove back to the station. As soon as she got out, the dispatcher called.
“There’s a big fire coming up,” said the man. “The mill workers are calling in another fire.”
***
Mattie hurried toward town and found the chief waiting for her with his fire truck. A half dozen men were already on the scene, along with two volunteer firefighters. One was doing an inventory of the lumber mill while the other was trying to stop the fire before it spread.
Mattie rushed to help. They didn’t need her hands; they needed hers more.
“What’s your name?” asked the chief.
“Mattie Miller,” she replied. “I’m a private detective.”
A short time later, the chief directed Mattie to the other side of the mill where they found the source of the smoke. It was an old furnace that burned coal.
“Let’s try to stop the fire before it gets too big,” said the chief. “But, if we can’t, we’ll need to evacuate the people.”
Mattie tried to stop him but he pushed her aside.
“No one will be allowed in the mill until we get the flames under control,” he ordered. “And, I hope you won’t take this personally, but, since I suspect arson, you might have to wait a while. Do you have any water?”
Mattie was about to explain that she’d only been there for a few minutes when she saw the man in charge of the firefighters.
“Hey, Barney!” she called. “Can I use your truck to get water from the creek?”
The chief watched as Barney quickly agreed to let her. She drove to a spot that gave them easy access to the water while the chief and the firefighters used hoses to put out the small flame. After they were finished, Mattie returned to the fire scene.
“How long do you think it will take before you find someone who knows what happened?” she asked.
“It all depends on how much information we can get from the people,” answered the chief. “We know that Stanley died in the fire, but we don’t know who set it or why. But, we’ve got three suspects now.”
“What are they?” asked Mattie.
“First, we have the boy. He has no explanation for how his mother could have gotten him home from the railroad job. The second suspect is the owner of the mill. It’s been burning for two years and no one noticed.
We’ve already gone over the mill with a fine-toothed comb. There’s no indication of arson. That leaves us with the other mill workers. One is a runaway from a neighboring county. Another was working at the mill today, but he didn’t even see Stanley.”
“Why don’t we start with the runaway? Can you arrest him without a warrant?”
“Not on your life,” said Barney. “It’s against every regulation. You can’t arrest a man for not telling you the truth. No one can tell me why he wouldn’t say anything when we asked about his mother.”
“He might just be afraid of what his mother would do if she knew he was talking to you,” suggested Mattie.
“I’ll ask him,” replied Barney. “But, I think I already know the answer.”
Mattie took the chief’s place at the scene and waited. It wasn’t long before the boy arrived with the runaway, whom she’d met earlier that day.
“Where did you find these people?” asked Mattie.
“They’re the only ones who could have set that fire,” said the chief. “We found their names and addresses in Stanley’s pocket.”
“What’s his name?” asked Mattie.
“Damian Levee.”
The name was so foreign to Mattie that it took her a moment to realize Damian Levee was a Frenchman’s last name. She also had to ask him to repeat the address.
“That’s not good,” muttered the chief.
Mattie nodded. “Do you think it was them or someone else?”
“You mean do I think they were involved or not? They’ve been under suspicion for a couple of years. But, they were the only suspects we had.”
“Was Stanley’s death accidental or intentional?” asked Mattie.
“We can’t be sure until we find out how he died,” said the chief. “We’ll take them in for questioning. We’ll start with the boy first.”
The End