The Elizabeth Walker Affair by Robert Lane

Author:Robert Lane [Lane, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

25

Dylan Phillips lived off a county road that ran east out of southern Tampa and looked as if it were hell-bent on running forever. Carved wood animals stood like Yeoman Warders at the juncture of the driveway. A bear. A hawk clutching a stump. A great blue heron with a slender and smooth neck. A ragged Confederate flag rolled in the breeze on top of a rusted pole. A sign read Inquire Within.

The driveway, a rain-starved road of dirt, cut through the flat, characterless land marked by Mexican sunflowers that loomed over clumps of pampas grass. It ended at a single-story wood house where rocking chairs lined the covered front porch. Fresh white gravel served as a parking lot, and manicured landscaping crowded the house. A white SUV sat off to the side. A sign on the side read Nadine’s Institute of Southern Cooking, as did a sign above the front door.

I took the two steps onto the porch in one stride, worried that I might have the wrong address. No doorbell. I knocked. A petite black woman opened the door and the heavenly smell of fresh biscuits slapped me hard in the face.

“Hello,” she sang like a robin greeting a May morning. “What brings you to my slice of paradise?” She appeared to be in her midthirties. Her thick, dark hair had a streak of yellow in it. A starched white apron disguised her figure. I introduced myself, said I was looking for Dylan Phillips, and apologized if I’d gotten the wrong address.

“Imagine that,” she said. “Dylan’s suddenly gotten popular.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re the third person this month to knock on my door for him—and you knock the hardest. That’s not including the gentleman who wanted to buy a carving.” Mirthful eyes accompanied her lyrical voice.

“Who else dropped by?”

“His sister—I didn’t even know he had one. And after her another man. Neither stayed longer than it takes a loaf to rise.”

“Is he here?”

“He lives out back. This used to be his house, all this property, but I recently bought it and I rent him the room over the barn. I go out there every week and tidy up a bit.” She shook her head. “Some men never figured out a hanger. If I may ask, what is the purpose of your visit?”

“I’m worried about his sister and would like to talk to him.”

“Well, he doesn’t confide in me. Listen, I’ve got a cooking class starting in fifteen minutes and biscuits are tricky. You can follow me in and then head out back.”

“My truck OK where it is?”

“No problem.”

“Are you Nadine?”

“Excuse my manners,” she said with a smile, for Nadine was the type of person who smiled as she spoke. She thrust out her hand without taking her eyes off mine. “Chief cook and bottle washer. Nadine’s Institute of Southern Cooking.”

The entrance hall was surprisingly large. The kitchen sported a center island with eight cushioned high-back chairs and room for more. A six-burner gas stove centered the island. Double stainless-steel refrigerators stood behind the stove.

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