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“How was Martha not herself?” the sheriff prodded softly.
“She seemed distracted. Upset. And at night... she used to have a single glass of sherry. But lately... I knew something was bothering her. I tried to ask. I did!” The mayor glanced up abruptly, his eyes wild. “But she wouldn’t talk to me. She wouldn’t!”
The connecting door at the other end of the room suddenly swung open. The girl appeared, wearing her blue maid’s uniform and bearing a silver coffeepot. Her eyes fell immediately on D.D. She paused infinitesimally, then recovered herself, moving forward as if nothing was amiss. She dragged her right leg slightly, and her face appeared as pale and bruised as the mayor’s. Had she seen the body? Did she know what her “aunt” had supposedly done?
Or was she once again just the hired help? Summoned to serve and knowing better than to question it?
Now, she wordlessly topped off the mayor’s coffee cup, while studiously avoiding D.D.’s gaze. She set the pot in the middle of the table, then turned back toward the kitchen.
“Poor thing,” the mayor said, looking right at D.D. “First her mother, and now this.”
“We’ll want to question everyone who was present this evening,” D.D. started, before the mayor’s harsh laugh interrupted.
“Ask her questions? She can’t answer. How cruel can you be? Besides, she doesn’t know anything. When I first found the body... I started screaming. She came. Cook, too. They may be staff, but we are also family. We all need time to grieve.”
With the mayor’s attention fully on her, D.D. had no choice but to nod. She would love to force the issue, follow the girl directly into the kitchen and play their one-finger-for-yes, two-fingers-for-no game. But the truth was, the girl was a minor and her uncle ostensibly her legal guardian. D.D. had no grounds to pursue the matter without Mayor Howard’s explicit permission.
The girl disappeared through the swinging door. She’d had her left hand down by her side, but D.D. couldn’t tell if she was holding out any fingers or not. With all eyes watching, D.D. forced herself to focus once more on Mayor Howard.
“Why do you think your wife was off?”
The mayor didn’t answer right away, staring instead at the fresh steam rising up from his coffee cup. “Martha was born with only one kidney,” he said presently, his voice rough. “Twenty years ago, that kidney started to fail. Martha went on the transplant list, but you know how it is. So many who need organs, so few that are available.”
Across from the mayor, the sheriff nodded encouragement.
“We looked...” The mayor cleared his throat, glanced up. “We looked at foreign options. Traveling overseas where for a price such surgeries can be performed. But before long, Martha was too sick for even that.”
The sheriff nodded again.
“Martha knew a local doctor. A friend from childhood. Dr. Gregory Hatch. He had a practice in Atlanta. He said he could help her.”
“How?” Kimberly prodded.
The mayor fingered his coffee cup. He wouldn’t look at them anymore. “Martha told me not to ask too many questions. She said it was better if I didn’t know,” he whispered. “But Gregory, he got privileges at the health clinic just north of here. And Martha paid him a series of visits. Testing. Lots of testing.” The mayor smiled grimly. “You can’t really hide that. Then, she went away for a month. To a wellness clinic, she said. Of course, we both knew she was lying.
“But she was my wife and I loved her. And I wanted her to live. So when she gave me a bunch of paperwork to fill out for a ‘designated donation,’ I didn’t argue.”
“You donated a kidney to your wife?” Kimberly interrupted.
“I filled out paperwork that said I was donating a kidney to my wife,” the mayor said slowly. “But I couldn’t. I wasn’t a match. I knew that. She knew that. As for the paperwork...”
“Your wife got a kidney,” D.D. filled in. “This Dr. Hatch did the operation.”
The mayor finally looked at them, his eyes red rimmed and exhausted.
“She came home with meds, lots and lots of meds. You’ll find them in the bathroom. Anti-rejection meds. She still takes them faithfully. And she’s been healthy ever since.”
No one spoke right away. Finally, Kimberly did the honors. “Mayor Howard, where did your wife get the kidney?”
“I don’t know.”
“But it wasn’t from you.”
“It wasn’t from me.”
“But she got a transplant, performed by this Dr. Hatch.”
“He saved her life.”
