Shakespeares Trollop Page 0,63

the business after he died. But I already knew a lot, and I learned more right smart."

"I guess you know who owns all the land hereabouts, since you were in lumber." It occurred to me I had a valuable source of information right here in front of me.

She looked at me, a little surprised. "I did. I used to."

"You know Birdie Rossiter, widow of M. T. Rossiter?"

"Audie Rossiter's daughter-in-law?"

"Right. Know where she lives?"

"Audie gave them that land. They built right off of Farm Hill Road."

"That's right."

"What about it?"

"There's a few acres of woods right outside the city limits sign, just south of the road."

"Hasn't been built on yet?" Mrs. Jepperson said. "That's a surprise. Less than half a mile past the city limits, yes?"

I nodded. Then, afraid she couldn't make that out, I said, "Yes."

"You want to know who that belongs to?"

"Yes, ma'am. If you know."

"You could go the county clerk's office, look it up."

"It's easier to ask you."

"Hmm." She looked at me, thinking. "I believe that land belongs to the Prader family," she said finally. "Least, it did up until maybe five years ago."

"You were working up till then?" I figured Mrs. Jepperson was in her late eighties.

"Didn't have nothing else to do. I'd make those men I hired ride me around. Let 'em know I was checking on what they were doing. You can believe I kept them on their toes. They need to keep on earning money for those worthless great-grandchildren of mine." She smiled, and if I needed another clue that she didn't really think her great-grandchildren were worthless, I got it then.

"Joe C Prader owns that land?"

"Sure does, if I remember correctly. He lets his family and friends hunt on it. Joe C's even older'n me, so he may not have any friends left. He didn't have a whole lot to start with."

Mrs. Jepperson fell asleep without any warning. It was so alarming that I checked her breathing, but she was fine as far as I could tell. Laquanda came in soon afterward and checked on the old lady too. She'd dropped her daughter off at home with instructions to take some Emetrol and ginger ale and go to bed.

"She okay while I was gone?" Laquanda asked.

"Fine. We had a conversation," I reported.

"You? And Miz Jepperson? I wish I coulda heard that," Laquanda said skeptically. "This lady knows everything, and I mean everything, about Shakespeare. At least about the white folks, and a lot of the blacks, too. But she doesn't share it, no sir. She keeps her mouth shut."

I shrugged and gathered my things together. If I'd asked her about old scandals and personalities, I wouldn't have gotten the same cooperation I'd gotten in asking about land. Land was business. People weren't.

When I got back to my house to eat lunch, I had a message on my answering machine from Becca. She'd thought of a couple of bills that would come due while she was gone, and wanted to leave checks with me to cover them. After I'd eaten a tuna sandwich, brushed my teeth, and checked my makeup, I still had thirty minutes until my next appointment, so I decided to oblige.

There was a pickup truck backed in toward the rear door of the apartment building. It was half-full of boxes. Separated from Lacey or not, Jerrell was helping to empty the apartment. He wasn't anywhere in sight, so I assumed he was up in Deedra's place.

Anthony answered Becca's door. He looked as though he'd just stepped out of the shower and pulled on his clothes.

"Becca here?" I asked.

"Sure, come on in. Pretty day, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"She'll be right out. She's in the shower. We've been running," he explained.

I finally sat down to wait when a moment or two didn't produce Becca. I thought I heard the bathroom door open at one point, but if she'd peeked out she'd gone right back in. Becca was a high-maintenance woman. Her brother kept up his end of the small-talk convention with considerable determination, but I was glad when Becca showed and we could both give up. Anthony didn't seem to want to talk about anything but his experiences with the prisoners he counseled. He was on the verge of sounding obsessed, I thought.

Becca emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a robe. Even fresh from the shower, she was groomed.

"Lily," she said, surprised to see me. "When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago," I said.

"You should have called me," Becca told Anthony, punching him in