The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

meet you, Gary.”
    “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Doran.”
    Mr. Doran came into the hallway and shook my hand.
    “Thank-you for standing by Sylvia,” he said. “You have a warm place in our hearts just for doing that. Unlike some people I could name.”
    “How are you doing, sir?” I asked.
    “Oh, they can’t keep me down. I’m still in business. I have to be a little clandestine right now, but things will get better. I have great faith in the people of the United States to do the right thing in the long run.”
    “I hope you’re right.”
    “It’s what keeps me going.”
    After we got in the car, Sylvia gave me a quick kiss and said, “Thanks for putting up with my parents.”
    “I like your parents.”
    “They can be a little preachy at times. I hope I get a chance to meet your parents.”
    “I hope so, too.” Under favorable circumstances.
    ***
    The mood at the game was somber. The chief topic of conversation was Dennis and Willie, with the game, itself, taking a backseat. It overshadowed Sylvia’s ostracism, at least for the moment. Everybody was talking to everybody else. Natalie even came up to us and said how terrible it was.
    I gathered from the gossip that the brothers had been at a party—not at their house, but at the house of a friend. The beer flowed freely, and they were on their way home when the accident occurred.
    I was recognizing more and more faces of the Carter High students. I looked around the stands as we climbed to our seats and thought that, whether I wanted to or not, after three weeks here, I was becoming adjusted to Carter. Perhaps this accident was bringing me closer to the others. Then I saw Kate with a bunch of girls. She was wearing a red skirt, with a pink sweater under her jacket that went with her hair. She knew how to dress well on a limited clothing budget.
    She looked in my direction, and our eyes met, briefly. Then she turned away. I knew she had seen Sylvia by my side. Perhaps Ed had told her about our lunch bunch, but seeing us together would be more forceful to her than picturing us as part of a larger group.
    The public address announcer asked for a minute of silence before the singing of the National Anthem. The crowd quieted down immediately. The football players of both teams bowed their heads and held their helmets in their arms. Even the cheerleaders stood uncharacteristically quiet and immobile.
    Barney came and sat on the other side of Sylvia. She mentioned something to him about the accident.
    “They called my dad to go to the scene of the accident,” he said, soberly. Barney’s father was one of the few doctors in the town of Carter. “He was the one who pronounced them dead. They looked horrible. Blood and guts all over the place.”
    “All right, Barney,” Sylvia said, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s enough of that. We already got the lecture from my mother.”
    “Sorry. But there’s a lesson to be learned here.”
    “I think we’ve learned the lesson.”
    To redirect the talk a little, I leaned across in front of Sylvia and said, so that nobody else could hear, “Willie was my witness against Dr. Graves.”
    Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Then Sylvia said, “That shoots that strategy down.”
    We turned and faced the field as Carter kicked off to the opposing team.

    CHAPTER 20
    On Sunday, I drove home to Atherton to have dinner with my family, amid falling leaves. Dark clouds blotted out the sun and a cool wind blew, but at least it was dry. I drove the car onto the driveway of our modest suburban house and parked it.
    Before I could get out, Tom and Archie raced out of the house and asked, breathlessly, “Did you know the boys who were killed?”
    “I knew them a little.” I wasn’t going to tell them I had been to a party at their house, because that was bound to get to my parents, if Aunt Dorothy hadn’t already told my father. “The younger one was a good athlete.”
    “At first, we wondered if it happened at the crossing beside the farm.”
    “It didn’t, but the train was delayed for several hours and didn’t go by the farm until much later than usual.”
    We chatted about the accident for a couple of minutes. Then Tom said, “Have you seen Kate?”
    “Tommy’s got a girlfriend,” Archie chanted.
    The question stopped me cold. Of all the questions I was expecting, that was one I wasn’t prepared for. They had met two weeks ago, and Tom hadn’t mentioned Kate last Sunday when I was here,