the photograph again, but her focus was on Anna. “She so pretty,” she said, then pressed her finger to her lips again as if to shut herself up. “That white boy,” she said suddenly. “He had somethin’ to do with the po-lice. But later. Not…” She tapped the print. “Not back then.” She was losing me again.
“I have another picture,” I said, pulling the large print I’d made of the half-cleaned mural from the manila folder. “I’m restoring Anna Dale’s mural,” I said, “and I know a lot of it still needs cleaning and inpainting … the paint restored … but is this familiar?”
She was already grinning as I set the photograph in her lap. “Ain’t seen this thing in forever,” she said. “Where’s the black lady? She was my fav’rite.”
I smiled, excited that she recognized the mural. “She’s up here in the corner,” I said, pointing to the upper right-hand corner of the print. “I haven’t cleaned her off yet, so she’s hard to see.”
Mama Nelle squinted behind her glasses. “What you done to her mouth?” she asked.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with her mouth,” I admitted. “It looks like she has something in it, or she’s biting a stick or something. I’ll know once I clean that part off.”
Mama Nelle frowned at the picture. I could see her gaze shifting from one bit of the painting to another.
“There are some odd things here,” I said, pointing. “Do you see the ax? Those little red spots are blood drops coming off it. I don’t know what that—”
“Weren’t no ax.” Mama Nelle shook her head. “’Twas a hammer.”
It was my turn to frown. “What do you mean, ‘a hammer’?”
She quickly turned her face away from me, tightening her lips as if she’d said too much.
“Can you tell me what you mean by a hammer?” I tried again.
She looked back at the photograph and another smile came to her face. She laughed, tapping a long finger on the motorcycle, which was still grimy but identifiable. “I ’member that!” she said. “Jesse done cover it over. Miss Anna, she paint it again. Jesse cover it again.”
I was lost. “What do you mean?” I asked.
She lifted her watery gaze to my face. “You know you got to be quiet about her, right?” she asked me in a hushed voice.
“Why?” I asked, wishing I had the key to unlock this old woman’s skittering brain. “Why do I need to be quiet about her?”
She only pressed a finger to her lips again, and I sighed.
“All right, yes, I’ll be very quiet about her.” I looked at the grainy newspaper photograph, which now rested on my knees, and ventured the question that disturbed me the most. “Mama Nelle,” I said. “Do you know if Miss Anna killed herself?”
Behind her glasses, Mama Nelle’s dark eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no, child!” she said. “Why, that girl? She couldn’t even kill a chicken.”
Chapter 28
ANNA
January 12–15, 1940
The morning started out very well, the day full of promise. Miss Myrtle, Ellen Harper—the salesgirl from the Patsy Department Store—Freda, and Mayor Syke’s wife, Madge, all came to the warehouse to pose for the cartoon. Anna had borrowed dresses for Miss Myrtle, Ellen, and Miss Madge from a local historian Mr. Arndt had put her in touch with. The women changed their clothes one by one in the revolting warehouse bathroom, laughing over too tight bodices and scratchy petticoats. Then Anna sat the three Tea Party ladies around a crate they pretended was a table. The ladies giggled too much for grown women, but all in all, Anna was happy with the way her drawing turned out on the cartoon paper.
Freda was the real star in the modeling department, though. Because she never spoke, Anna had never really seen her teeth. When Freda smiled, as Anna asked her to do for the portrait, the woman displayed beautiful white teeth and a fetching smile. Anna’s plan was for Freda to hold out her apron full of peanuts. Anna had the apron, but no peanuts, so she would have to add them to the drawing later.
Jesse arrived before Anna was even finished sketching the women. She wasn’t surprised by his early, enthusiastic arrival, and without a word, he began cutting wood for the braces on the stretcher as she continued working with the women.
She was both exhausted and elated by the time the models left. Then Theresa and Peter arrived. Peter joined Jesse at work on the stretcher, but Theresa took Anna aside.
“My