Black Rose

to sleep in a closet with a puppy he’d taken from a litter in the stables. He’d wanted it for a pet, and his mother had vetoed. No dogs in the house sort of thing. So he’d hidden it in his room for a week or so, keeping it in his closet, pilfering food out of the kitchen.”
    “How old was he?”
    “About ten, she thinks. At least from what her mother told her. He was found out when he crawled into the closet with it, and fell asleep. Nobody could find him, turned the house upside down. Then one of the servants heard this whimpering and found the two of them in the back of his bedroom closet.”
    “Did he get to keep the dog?”
    “He did. His father overruled his mother and let him keep it, though it was a mutt and apparently never learned any manners. He had it nearly eighteen years, so she remembers it herself, vaguely. He buried it behind the stables, put a little tree over the grave.”
    “Spot. My grandmother showed me the grave. There’s even a little marker. She said he’d buried his beloved dog there, but must not have known the story about how he acquired it. She’d have told me.”
    “My impression is Clarise told me to illustrate that her mother’s little brother was spoiled by his father.”
    “She would,” Roz replied.
    “I learned something else. Jane has every other Wednesday off. Or Wednesday afternoons. She likes to go to Davis-Kidd, have lunch in their café, then browse the stacks.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Anyone who wanted to talk to her privately could run into her there. Tomorrow, in fact, as it’s her Wednesday afternoon off.”
    “I haven’t made time, recently, to go to the bookstore.”
    “Then I’d say you’re due.”

    WITHOUT MITCH’S DESCRIPTION, Roz doubted she’d have recognized Jane Paulson. She saw the young woman—mouse-colored hair, drab clothes, solemn expression—come into the café and go straight to the counter.
    She ordered quickly, like someone whose habits varied little, then took a table in a corner. She pulled a paperback book out of her purse.
    Roz waited sixty seconds, then wandered over.
    “Jane? Jane Paulson?” She said it brightly, with just a hint of puzzlement, and watched Jane jolt before her gaze flew up. “Well, isn’t this something?”
    Without waiting for an invitation, Roz took the second chair at the table. “It’s been... well, I can’t remember how long. It’s Cousin Rosalind. Rosalind Harper.”
    “Yes, I... I know. Hello.”
    “Hello right back.” Roz gave her hand a pat, then sat back to sip at her coffee. “How are you, how long are you in town? Just tell me every little thing.”
    “I... I’m fine. I live here now.”
    “No! Right here in Memphis? Isn’t that something. Your family’s well, I hope.”
    “Everyone’s fine. Yes, everyone’s just fine.”
    “That’s good to hear. You give your mama and daddy my best when you talk to them next. What are you doing here in Memphis?”
    “I, um...” She broke off as her cup of soup and half sandwich were served. “Thank you. Um, Cousin Rosalind, would you like something?”
    “No, coffee’s just fine.” And she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t look at that miserable, distressed face any longer and lie.
    “Jane, I’m going to be honest with you. I came here today to see you.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I know you’re living with Cousin Rissy, working for her.”

    “Yes. Yes, I... and I just remembered. I have errands to run for her. I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten. I really should go and—”
    “Honey.” Roz laid a hand on hers, to hold her still, and hopefully to reassure. “I know just what she thinks of me, so you don’t need to worry. I won’t tell her we spoke. I don’t want to do anything to get you in trouble with her. I promise you.”
    “What do you want?”
    “First let me tell you that nothing you say will get back to her. You know how much she dislikes me, and the feeling couldn’t be more mutual. We won’t be talking about this, Clarise and I. So I’ll ask you first, are you happy staying with her?”
    “I needed a job. She gave me a job. I really should—”
    “Mmm-hmm. And if you could get another job?”
    “I... I can’t afford a place of my own, right now.” Jane stared into her soup as if it held the world, and the world wasn’t a very friendly place. “And I don’t have any skills. Any job skills.”
    “I find that hard to believe, but that can wait. If I could help you find a job you’d