Washboard Tales

By Lucy L. Jones Ph.D.

This sequel to Shadowy Tales opens with the brutal murder of Beverly St. John, the wife of the Piney Falls Chief of Police. Her death triggers fear among the women in this small rural community. Major changes are taking place in the lives of other familiar individuals of this town that intertwine with the search for the murderer. Through her own ingenuity and fast thinking, Pastor Fran must save herself from death at the hands of the wily perpetrator.

Realizing rescue is not imminent, Fran creates a list of potential perpetrators and their possible motives for the death of Beverly St. John. This list prompts her to make another list consisting of triad romantic relationships, including her own. At times, it seems these relationships will never be resolved, including the tale of her own daughter, Coral. When women in the community come to Pastor Fran to confess their own indiscretions, one man seems to be at the center of each tale, the Reverend Bolger's brother, Harry.

As Fran struggles to help solve the murder of Beverly St. John, challenges mount in the "coming of age" story of Allie Bolger, the expectation of a new heir to the wealthy and influential Capriano family, the success of Glory Bautista's newest book, and the disruptive arrival to Piney Falls of a visiting professor from England.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667866079

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WASHBOARD TALES

(Book 2 of the Shadowy River Series)

© 2022 Lucy L. Jones

All rights reserved. This book or any portion there of may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Lucy L Jones

[e-mail]

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-66786-606-2

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66786-607-9

Table of Contents

Characters with primary roles in Washboard Tales

Sunday Evening, December 18

Prologue

Thursday, December 15

Thursday, December 15

Thursday, December 15

Thursday, December 15

Friday, December 16

Friday evening, December 16

Saturday, December 17

Sunday, December 18

Sunday, December 18 – 10:30 am

4th Sunday in Advent

Sunday, December 18

Interlude

Sunday Afternoon, December 18

Sunday Evening, December 18

Monday, December 19

Tuesday Morning, December 20

Tuesday, December 20

Tuesday, December 20

Tuesday, December 20

Tuesday, December 20

Tuesday Evening, December 20

Wednesday, December 21

Wednesday, December 21

Interlude

Wednesday, December 21

Wednesday Noon, December 21

Wednesday Afternoon, December 21

Wednesday, December 21

Wednesday Evening, December 21

Wednesday Late Evening, December 21

Thursday Morning, December 22

Thursday Afternoon, December 22

Thursday, December 22

Friday, December 23

Friday Noon, December 23

Friday, December 23

Friday, December 23

Friday Evening, December 23

Saturday, Christmas Eve Day

Saturday Afternoon, Christmas Eve

Saturday Evening, December 24

Sunday Early, Christmas Day

Sunday, Christmas Day

Monday Morning, December 26

Monday, December 26

Tuesday, December 27

Wednesday Evening, December 28

Thursday, December 29

Thursday, December 29

Friday Evening, December 30

Saturday Afternoon, December 31

Saturday Evening, December 31

New Year’s Eve

Sunday, January 1

New Years’ Day

Sunday Noon, January 1

Sunday Afternoon, January 1

New Years’ Day

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Lucy L. Jones, ph.d.

Shadowy Tales (Book 1 of the Shadowy River Series)

Feral Fables: Self-Help Tales for a Wild Self

Characters with primary roles in Washboard Tales

When you become confused with the various relationships, cross-referencing the people in this list could help provide some clarity. There may be future stories that give more detail of the lives of these characters.

Glory Sanchez Bautista – A member of the Catholic church, part-time secretary at the church for Fran Keeton, wife of Manny and mother of Beverly.

Manny Bautista – Husband of Glory, father of Beverly, father of Meg Long’s five little girls, owner of the hardware store

Alice May Allie Bolger – Daughter of Lester and Emma Bolger, niece of Harry Bolger

Emma Bolger – Wife of Lester Bolger, mother of Alice May and RayBoy, Harry Bolger’s lover

Harry Moses Bolger – Younger brother of Lester Bolger, uncle to Alice May, lover to Emma Bolger and others

Lester Israel Bolger – Older brother of Harry and Stevie, step-brother to Timothy pastor of fundamental church, father to Alice May and RayBoy, husband to Emma

Steven Stevie Bolger – Lawyer, brother to Harry and Lester

Bobby Pa Brown – Local handyman, town drunk

Gerald Geri Capriano – Father of Jeremiah, head of Sicilian Capriano family, Gwen’s husband.

Gwen St. John Capriano – Mother of Karl St. John by Cliff Green, mother of Kevin St. John by Justin Long (also father of Jacob), mother of Meg Long by Matthew Shapiro, mother of Jeremiah Capriano by Geri Capriano

Grandmother to Trini (daughter of Meg and Jacob Long, son of Justin)

Jeremiah Capriano – Son of Geri Capriano, son of Gwen St. John, fiancé of Trini Long

Cliff Green – Owner of greenhouse, father of Coral Keeton, father of Karl St. John, brother to Jana Long

Linda May Hanks – Nurse, adopted sister to Nelson, daughter of Zeb Hanks who adopted Nelson

Nelson Hanks – Son of Beverly Bautisat and Father Jonathan Shapiro, adopted by Zeb Hanks

Coral Green Keeton – daughter of Fran Keeton and Cliff Green, lover to Robbin Maxwell, fiancé to Stevie Bolger

Frances Fran Anna Keeton – Pastor of church, mother to Coral Green Keeton

Jenny Lane – Visiting artist

Jana Long - A member of Fran’s church, wife of Justin, sister to Cliff Green, mother to Jacob (Meg’s husband), grandmother to Trini Long

Justin Long – Cherokee husband of Jana Long, father to Jacob Long (Meg’s husband), father of Kevin St. John, grandfather to Trini Long

Meg Long – Widow of Jacob Long, mother of Trini Long, mother of Manny Bautista’s five little girls, member of Fran’s church, daughter of Gwen Capriano and Matthew Shapiro, half-sister to Karl St. John, Kevin St. John, and Jeremiah, step-daughter to Geri Capriano

Trini Long – Daughter of Meg and Jacob Long, fiancé to Jeremiah Capriano, lover to Gilead St. John

Robbin Maxwell – Policewoman, Coral Keeton’s lover

Eddie Philips – Policeman, member of Fran’s church

Jonathan Shapiro – Catholic priest, lover of Beverly St. John, father of Nelson Hanks

Bubba and Chip Smyth – Barley policemen, brothers

Beverly Bautista St. John – A member of Fran’s church, wife of Karl St. John, daughter of Manny and Glory Bautista

Gilead St. John – Trini Long’s lover, son of Beverly St. John and Jacob Long, raised by Karl St. John

Karl St. John – Son of Gwen Capriano and Cliff Green, half-brother to Kevin and Meg, husband of Beverly St. John, Chief of Police

Kevin St. John – Son of Gwen and Justin Long, half-brother to Karl and Meg, Fran Keeton’s church organist, college psychology professor

Sunday Evening, December 18

Prologue

She pulled the dark wool cape closer as protection against the damp and sharp wind. The argument with Jonathan in the afternoon was unsettling, but her long-time pledge to him was still strong. His vows to the Church kept them apart more than either of them chose, even while he sensed her insatiable needs.

Someone other than Jon had been with her this evening, someone more available to her than Jon, and nearly as desirable. The lover tonight was exhilarating, left her weak, and craving even more. And there were others. So, she walked, trying not to think, not to remember, not to decide.

Freedom from her nearly quarter-century marriage wasn’t yet sweet enough to curb her anxiety. There was this evening’s confrontation over coffee with Nelson, her first-born, Jon’s son. He was as handsome as his father at that age. If others had not insisted that she give him away at birth, if she had kept him instead, perhaps he would not have ended up in trouble so often. She wasn’t sure why it was so important for Nelson to know who his father is. Perhaps knowing his true background will help him to get onto a path of doing good deeds in this world.

Her small feet shuffled through the leaves on the sidewalk, remnants of an earlier fall season that hadn’t completely blown away. Located only a few miles from Piney Falls, this small quiet community of Barley encouraged an early sleep time. The bare gray branches of the deciduous trees dripping with gray Spanish moss created a sharp contrast against the dark green long-leaf pines along the street. The dim porch light welcomed her back as she rounded the last corner of the block.

The renovated cottage in Barley was exactly what she wanted. Karl knew she needed a place for retreat, perhaps for a permanent home. This new asylum reflected her need for beauty, her need to feel at home. Had she ever felt at home while living with Karl? The small bedroom of gold and white brocades and velvets, designed to suit her Asian heritage, helped to create her private sanctuary, a place where no one came to her uninvited. She thought of the many admirers she could invite into this sacred space.

Beverly St. John read the rude scribbling on the scrap paper once more. "You are sleeping with the Devil." The meaning of the message was perfectly clear to her, but what was she supposed to do about it? She and Jonathan had been lovers since high school. Just because he was now a priest in the Roman Catholic Church didn’t mean they couldn’t love each other the same as always.

A month had gone by since she moved into her little cottage in Barley. Never again would she sleep in a house that no longer felt like home. Still, the strange note slipped under the windshield wiper of her car left an edgy feeling that was hard to shake. She tucked the piece of paper into a book on the nightstand.

Her slender fingers slipped the loops off the gold knots along the side of her white brocade cheongsam, pushed it off her shoulders, placed the carefully folded dress over the back of a velvet chair, closed her eyes and ran hands down her slim, youthful body, remembering her earlier visitor, his seminal scent fused with that of the candle.

The brushing branches against her window masked the approach of an intruder, cloaked the soft movement behind her. She fought for breath; no strength left to claw the hairy fingers from her throat. She slid into darkness, no longer remembering, no longer indecisive about her future.

Lavender eye shadow, thick black mascara, and a fine hair of eyeliner beneath her closed eyes, heavily smudged magenta lips—these were the colors crowning his artistic arrangement of the lifeless body resting on top of the smooth mauve sheets. He pulled himself away from her seduction. He stood looking down at her, fixing her in his memory. He stood to tuck in his shirt, adjust his trousers, and slip the shoes back on his feet. At the door, he took one last satisfied look to verify that his message was clear. This is no royalty. She is merely a modern-day concubine.

Thursday, December 15

T hey didn’t pay me enough to be a mistress!

Glory Bautista sorted through the church’s junk mail while she chatted with Reverend Frances Anna Keeton, better known as Fran, or Pastor Fran, by nearly everyone in town.

I took a job as a clerk in the Piney Falls post office when I was still in my twenties, Glory continued. "After that, it was promotion by attrition. The person who could last the longest without going crazy or dying would end up as postmaster, and I’m the one who made it. But I was not a post-mistress. Not that I’m really opposed to being someone’s mistress, you understand?"

Fran loved to laugh with this woman who volunteered her time for an hour every morning at the office of Piney Falls Community Church. Glory retired from the postal service about the same time Fran was appointed as pastor to this church and she took on the part-time position to fulfill her need to be useful. Glory was fast, efficient, and knew which pieces of mail could be tossed safely, which were bits of information to be given to other people in the church, which correspondence she could handle on her own, or which were for Fran’s ministerial eyes only.

So, the title of Postmaster is not gender specific? Fran asked, thumbing through the mail Glory handed her. Nothing was urgent so she set the stack aside for later.

It’s just one of those things that will never change, I suppose, Glory said. "Although we do have postal carriers instead of post-men now."

"Well, I guess we’ll never be able to change the entire postal service, but I’m happy to have a professional postal person handle the stuff that finds its way into this office, Fran said. But I’m surprised you still want to do this job after getting your book published. That was quite an accomplishment, Glory."

Oh, I wouldn’t give up this job with you for anything.

And I love having you here, Fran said. You’re the best office helper I’ve ever had. When did you ever find time to write, work, and raise a child at the same time?

I managed to write a little in my spare time, Glory said. I think it was a surprise to me as well. I wasn’t sure I could keep going long enough for it to become a full-length book, then suddenly it happened. Of course, the few who have read it think it’s about the women of Piney Falls. I tried to make it sound as if they were tales told over a washboard, like women used to do in the old days.

I love that concept of women sharing stories over a washboard. I haven’t taken time to read it yet, but believe me, I’m going to as soon as I can. You deserve this success and I want to support your enterprise.

Thank you, Pastor Fran, Glory said. Manny never was home much, so after I finished raising Beverly, I used writing as the way to keep my brain active and develop my creativity. Words just seemed to flow out of me. Glory blushed and tried to concentrate on her task. Please don’t tell anyone else I’m the author, though. Manny would never forgive me.

I’ll not be the one to tell him, or anyone, Glory. I’m sure it will come out eventually, but you won’t have me to blame, Fran said. How in the world did you come up with the pen name of Wu Hou? Did you hear about her in school? Was she someone you read about in Chinese history?

It’s a long story, Glory said, but I discovered Wu Hou in my genetic research. She was a self-appointed Empress back in the late seventh century. At the ripe age of thirteen she had become a young concubine of the T’ang emperor, T’ai Tsung, but she was destined to become much more.

Fran contemplated the woman she’d grown to admire. The Chinese features inherited from her mother were distinct and any evidence of her father’s Hispanic blood was nearly non-existent. She often wondered how Glory had ended up as Manny Bautista’s wife. The two personalities were such a contrast.

I’d love to hear more about her, Fran said.

She was an ancestor of mine. Our people believe in respecting the lineage, so when I wanted to protect my name as author, Wu Hou came to mind.

Not only does she sound like a woman with lofty aspirations, but she must have been one of the earliest feminists in history.

Wu Hou was such a strong woman and that’s what attracted me to her. I’ve read everything I could find on her. She worked her way up from one of the lowliest castes in life to one of the highest callings. She had to work hard to maintain her position, too.

Perhaps I should look her up online so I can understand her better, Fran said. I find that women have always had to strive harder than men to defend their rights. It’s too bad you had to hide your identity in writing, but it sounds like you chose a worthy heroine to serve as author."

Was it difficult for you to become a minister?

Deciding to become a pastor in the first place was not difficult at all but protecting and sustaining the role is yet another matter. The required schooling takes time, of course, but it’s worth it. Too many people believe women should not be pastors, and there is evidence of that right here in Piney Falls.

Oh, yes, I’m aware of that, and Pastor Lester where my Manny attends church spouts that kind of prejudice every Sunday.

And he has made certain I know about it, too, Fran said.

He comes home and wonders why I waste my time working with you, but he would never make me stop. He thinks he is making me contribute to the family income, Glory said. But so far, he hasn’t tried to control how I use the money.

I’m surprised he would want you to work and be out in the community, Fran said. I imagine Wu Hou discovered how few of her people thought a woman should be Empress.

So much about her is still secret, Glory said. That may be the reason why she remains such an intriguing and romantic unknown. I want to be like her.

"In your own way, you have become her."

You’re too kind, Pastor Fran. Glory tucked her head to hide the blush.

Does Manny know you’re the author of this new book everyone is praising?

Not yet, although I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough. The book has been such a success that royalties from the book plus retirement from the post office will allow me to leave him and live on my own. I don’t want to depend on him ever again. The price is much too high.

How would he find out?

Glory tossed the last piece of junk mail and looked directly into Fran’s eyes.

He makes it his business to know everything about me. My life is never my own. He doesn’t want to love me - he just wants to control me.

Fran knew the kind of man Manny Bautista was. The domination Manny enjoyed certainly could never include a wife who might be successful on her own.

Glory twisted her hands in her lap. She was the compliant wife of a dominant man who loved his diversions in a world she had no desire to enter.

Have you considered telling him yourself, rather than letting him find out in a different way? Fran asked. He might be less angry if it came from you.

Glory probably didn’t know about the situation between Fran and Manny earlier in the summer, but she certainly knew the sort of fantasies he loved to play out, fantasies she wanted no part of.

This is obviously a difficult situation for you, Fran said. Come on, let’s go have lunch. We’re about finished up here, and I want you to tell me more about the book, even before I read it.

They finished clearing out the mail and set aside any office work that could wait. The women bundled up against the near-freezing temperatures outside. Fran flipped off the lights, locked the door, and they headed out for lunch. At the fifties-style diner near the church, they each ordered hot split pea soup and a half sandwich of deli turkey on rye. As they ate, Glory warmed up to the topic and description of her book.

Like most small towns, a lot of dirty linen never gets put to the washboard, Glory said, even here in Piney Falls, and especially in the greater area of Shadowy River County. As a result, much of what goes on is public knowledge, although most of us manage to keep a few secrets safely tucked away in the closets of our thoughts.

And vehemently denied if any of it should leak out, right?

Oh, of course.

You envisioned this small town of secrets and mysteries, then created characters who were willing to air their soiled laundry, so to speak?

That’s about it, Glory said with no trace of arrogance. It wasn’t difficult to do. There are so many stories to be found in this county. Mixing them all together created some rather amusing stories, ultimately finding a place in my book.

Are some of the stories true, Glory?

Probably, Glory responded with a laugh. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty. I believe no one will recognize any specific story, yet everyone will probably point fingers. Not only that, Fran, but I’d be surprised if people in this town even bother to buy it. Not everyone around here is up on the latest hot read.

"Maybe if they found out you were the author, that would change. Is there any advantage to letting them know?

The disadvantages outweigh the advantages, I’m afraid, beginning with my husband. I also want to protect my own daughter, Beverly, along with some of the other women in this community.

I understand, Fran said. But I’d like to ask you another question—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

I probably know what you’re going to ask, Pastor Fran, and the answer is both yes and no.

Tell me more, please.

There is one story with an element of truth in it for me, but it also could be mostly fantasy that I’ve never been allowed to act out.

Will I be able to figure out which tale is yours when I read the book, Glory?

Perhaps, if you are astute enough, and I suspect you are. But please remember it was mostly a fantasy.

"Only a fantasy? Fran laughed. Then you’re a better person than I."

Well, to be honest, I’ve done a few things other than fantasy, but the most wicked thing I ever did was let Manny talk me into the back seat of his car one night. Our Beverly came nine months later.

I suspect women have been more unruly over the centuries than men gave them credit for. It’s always been considered a male prerogative to establish the double standard, hasn’t it?

Glory nodded in answer to Fran’s question.

"Manny always complained about our sex life being so boring. If he only knew the wild fantasies that go on in my mind, he’d flip. He doesn’t want me anymore, and he gets the variety he wants other places, but he’s still insanely jealous of my body and my time. It’s not often that I was unfaithful to Manny."

I encourage you to take on the persona of Wu Hou, Glory. Give yourself permission to stop being the subservient wife and become the Empress just as she did.

Talking to you about it helps, Fran. Thank you so much for your support.

* * *

Driving back to the parsonage, known as the old Stein House to all the locals, Fran became absorbed in thinking and remembering. Her own daughter was born out of wedlock, only because the father disappeared before they could marry. It was several decades before she’d run into the father again. Of all places where she imagined he might be, Fran never thought he would be right here in Piney Falls, the owner of Pot o’ Greens, a nursery with both traditional and exotic plants.

Over the past few months since the discovery, Cliff Green had developed a wonderful and close relationship with his daughter. Coral Green Keeton, her middle name in honor of her father, kept hoping her parents would reunite and form a legitimate family unit.

In the meantime, Fran was torn between two men. Seeing Cliff after almost twenty-two years brought back old memories of joys shared on a pallet at the Berkeley campus in California, but another man held a place in her heart as well—a married man who seldom crowded her for an answer yet managed to entice her to some gambit from time to time. Fran did everything she could to push her desire for him into oblivion; being with him would not be the wisest act she could ever commit. Even though Fran knew his wife planned to leave him for her own pursuits, they were members of her church, and he was a major public figure in a small town. She didn’t need a scandal with Karl St. John, nor did he need the indignity as Police Chief of Piney Falls.

I still can’t help feeling very much like the other woman. There are three of me: the self that people see, the hidden self, and the self with dreams of the future. I can love Karl unconditionally - not an easy thing to do when it comes to his wife. For now, I can accept that my role will always be that of the other woman. I will make do with whatever few moments of time he is able to create for us.

Which will it be? I know he would say, Don’t project into the future, and Live one day at a time. I know he is doing the best that he can under the circumstances right now and I couldn’t ask for anything more. Do I love him enough to continue making that sacrifice? He is special enough that I am willing to exercise more patience, more unconditional love, more grace in the relationship.

* * *

Fran wasn’t the only one with memories. On the way home, Glory thought about her early times with Manny, the family drama of getting pregnant and having to get married, even though Manny wasn’t the least bit interested in settling down. Their daughter Beverly was the result of one night in his car, and Glory couldn’t recall the last time Manny touched her in the same way ever again. Both of their families were rather nonchalant about her pregnancy, probably since it was not an unusual occurrence for them. Even the community