A Little Sin

by Sionnach Wintergreen

  “We’ll be fine,” said Garland, but he quieted as he gazed at Lucinda. “Maybe I should escort you to as well as fro, for a while.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Ferris thought it was sweet that you escorted me last night, so he escorted me this morning.” She grinned. “I feel like a proper lady.”

  Garland wanted to make sure. “Ferris doesn’t mind seeing you here in the mornings?”

  “No, it’s not too far out of his way.”

  A horrible thought occurred to him. “Avery, what about Ruby? Should she be here with her mother? Is it safe for children to play around here anymore?”

  “She and her brother are at her big sister’s. I was worried about the murderer.” She crossed her arms. “I thought I was being a worry wart.”

  With a weary sigh, Avery picked up the paper again. He read from it aloud, “For the time being, all of Wakeforest County sits in the cold grip of terror, waiting for the Timberland Ripper to strike again.” He set the paper down. “If people weren’t scared already, they sure will be now.”

  ***

  Garland sat on the floor watching the kittens eat and keeping Katydid away from their food. Avery had left to check on his office, and Lucinda flipped through one of Garland’s stacks of magazines while waiting for the phone to ring.

  Lucinda smiled at the hungry kittens. “Ruby had to take Moses with her to Eunice’s. ‘But Momma, he’ll get lonely!’”

  “Aww. She’s a sweet girl. She’s right, too. He would have been lonely in the house all by himself.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into letting him stay in the house.”

  “Just while he’s little. When he’s big he can go in and out like Katydid.”

  “Miss Katydid is in more than she’s out.”

  Garland laughed. “Cats like comfort.”

  Lucinda rolled her eyes playfully. The phone rang. She stood up and answered it, lifting the receiver from its hook and putting her mouth close to the big circular mouthpiece. “Garland Sands’ Veterinary, how may I help you?” She listened, holding the receiver to her ear. Garland could hear a voice on the other end, but he couldn’t make out what it said.

  “You have no reason to speak to me like that,” she told the mouthpiece.

  The stress in her voice, as much as her words, pulled Garland from the floor. He walked over to her. She shook her head at him, shooing him away. Her eyes welled. Garland took the phone from her. “This is Garland Sands. Whatever you have to say, you can say to me.”

  But whoever it was had hung up.

  Garland chipped some ice from the ice block in the ice box and put it in a glass. He poured tea over the ice and handed it to Lucinda. “You don’t have to tell me what they said, but I’d like to know.”

  “He said you were a race traitor. A filthy race traitor. And that you weren’t fit to doctor animals. He said I was an uppity—he didn’t say Negress.”

  Garland fell into the chair next to her. “I’m so sorry he upset you.”

  Lucinda sniffled, wiping an eye. “I’m not upset. I cry when I’m angry. Your people brought mine over here in chains, and some of them haven’t gotten over thinking they’re superior because of that.”

  “They cling to an ugly past as if it were glorious.”

  The phone rang. Lucinda sighed. “I hope someone’s chickens have lice.”

  “I’ll get it.” Garland stood, but she beat him to the phone.

  “Garland Sands’ Veterinary. How may I help you?” Her back stiffened. “You need to speak to the sheriff about that.”

  “Are they being ugly?” Garland whispered. “Hang up. Just hang up.”

  Lucinda returned the receiver to the hook switch. “More of the same. This one accused you of letting the murderer go.”

  “Do you like tarts? I have some strawberry jam. Don’t answer the phone anymore. Let’s make tarts.”

  “Garland, with deepest respect, I know you mean well. But stop. This is my job. Let me do my job and keep your nose out of it.”

  Garland wasn’t sure what to do. “But we should still make tarts. Tarts are good.”

  Lucinda rolled her eyes and snickered. “You make tarts. I’ll answer the phone.” She cleared her throat. “Besides, we can’t ignore the phone. What if it’s an emergency? You’d never forgive yourself.”

  “What if the phone rings off the hook all day and it’s nothing but venom?”

  “I know how to handle myself. Worry about your kittens and your tarts.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You know what I mean.” She smiled at him with such grace that it moved him. “Sit and have tea with me for a spell. Please?”

  He poured himself a cup of lukewarm tea from the kettle and sat beside her. The phone rang. She covered his wrist with one hand. “Stay put,” she told him. “I’m still your secretary, aren’t I?”

  He nodded and watched her answer the phone. He had the feeling it would be a long day.

  Chapter Nine

  Amberton, Texas

  Avery needed to find Obadiah Clark. The man had always had a nefarious streak. He was a few years older than Avery, and Avery had never liked him. He had always been a rowdy sort, always in trouble. And he had a mean streak. He liked to torture cats, and he was rough with girls.

  In June, a prostitute had reported that he had beaten and raped her. Avery had wanted to help her, but the prosecutor said a prostitute couldn’t be raped. And prostitution was illegal. Avery had told her the good Lord was giving her a sign to leave that way of life behind, but that was all he could do. Another sheriff might have let her sit behind bars for a while, but Avery had a soft heart sometimes. It often shamed him, but he thought now that Garland probably appreciated it.

  Since the day was dry, he drove the Model T to Amberton to question Pearl Butler, the prostitute that claimed to have been raped by Obadiah Clark. He hadn’t questioned her about the location of the cathouse where she had been plying her trade. He had just let it go. She had been in such rough shape…. He had meant to follow up with her later and get the location from her so he could shut the house of impropriety down, but he had gotten busy with other things. Cathouses cropped up like mushrooms after a rain. He could spend all his time shutting the things down if he wanted.

  He only hoped Pearl had gone where he’d sent her.

  The Model T bounced over the red dirt road. He pulled into the driveway of a small, shabby old house close to the street covered in brick paper. He walked up to the door and knocked on it. Essie Lou Hancock, the house’s owner, greeted him with a smile and let him inside.

  Essie Lou, a tall brunette, had been a prostitute once, when she was young. Now, the middle-aged woman took in young women trying to escape a life on their backs. “She’s here,” Essie Lou said happily when Avery asked after Pearl. She led him outside, where several women tended a large garden. “Pearl!” she cried. “Look, Pearl! You have a visitor!”

  Pearl, a fragile-looking blonde in a pale blue house dress, gave him a sad smile and left her tomatoes to walk over to him. “Hello, Sheriff,” she said in a quiet voice. A long scar cut across the cheek on one side of her face; an artifact from her time with Obadiah Clark.

  “Will you excuse us, Essie Lou?” Avery asked the older woman.

  “Of course.” To Pearl, she said, “I’ll be right over here if you need me. Just holler.”

  Pearl squinted up at Avery from under her straw hat. “How can I help you, Sheriff?”

  “That’s exactly what I need, Pearl. Your help.”

  Pearl stiffened. “Is this about him? He’s the Timberland Ripper, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. But I want to talk to him. Can you help me find him?”

  “You had to wait until he killed one of us.”

  He sighed and had to look away for a second. “Look, Pearl. Are you going to help me find him or not? I don’t have all day.”

  Pearl shrugged, an action that somehow managed to make her look even mor
e delicate. “I haven’t seen him since—since…it happened.”

  “Where was your cathouse?”

  She hesitated, then sighed. “It’s in Timberland. Down by the river. In an old two story farmhouse. It’s set back off the road, and there’s a long driveway. There are old oak trees around it. Up near the road, there’s a dogwood. By the driveway. It’s called Dogwood Farm.”

  “Dogwood Farm…. Do the men do any gambling in there?”

  Pearl rolled her eyes. “They do whatever they want. They gamble. They drink. It’s that kind of place. Beulah Sanford runs the girls. Obadiah is in charge of everything else.”

  Avery made himself look into her accusatory eyes. “If he killed Doc Watkins and that girl, he’ll hang for it. I’ll see it done.”

  “Be careful. He’s meaner than a timber rattler.”

  He tipped his hat and wished her a good day.

  ***

  Sands’ Farm

  Timberland, Texas

  “Did you come to see Garland?” asked Lucinda. “He’s over at the Henry Ranch tending a sick bull.”

  Avery scratched his neck. He had just wanted to see Garland. Just wanted to talk to him. “I had a couple of questions, but it can wait.” He turned to go.

  “Wait, Sheriff. It’s lunch time. Come sit for a spell. Have some iced tea.”

  Avery liked Lucinda well enough and tea did sound refreshing. He followed her inside and sat down at the familiar kitchen table. He could feel Garland’s presence all throughout the place. He ached for the man in a way that went beyond physical. He missed him on some spiritual level he never knew existed.

  He set his hat on the table and thanked Lucinda for the tea. She sat opposite him. “Are you close to finding out who did it?”

  “Maybe. Did Garland tell you about last night?”

  Lucinda cocked her head. “No. You stopped by last night?”

  Avery coughed. “I had to ask him a question.”

  “That man’s full of answers.” Lucinda smiled.

  Avery had to look down. “Lucinda, don’t tell—”

  “Not a soul. I swear.”

  “I think it’s Obadiah Clark.” He told her all of it.

  Lucinda shook her head. “What a monster!”

  “I’m going to fetch that Dawson boy I deputized and grab a few more men, then we’ll hit this Dogwood Farm after sundown.” He shrugged. “Maybe then it’ll all be over.”

  ***

  Dogwood Farm

  Timberland, Texas

  Avery took his Colt out of his holster. The Dawson boys, Burrell and Timothy, and and one of his cousins, Ernest Moorehead had rifles. He knocked on the door. A pretty redhead in a short green dress answered the door. “Oh!” she cried when she saw the long Colt. Avery pushed her inside.

  “Hush up. Answer my questions and no one will get hurt. Where’s Obadiah Clark?”

  She held her hand over her mouth and pointed above her head. Avery nodded. “Ernest, you stay here. Dawsons, with me.” They crept up the creaking stairs. Avery hoped to surprise Obadiah.

  A door, upstairs, opened. A woman walked onto the landing and screamed. Burrell shot her in the chest. She fell in a heap. Avery swore and raced up the remaining steps. Another door opened and Obadiah Clark emerged from it. Avery flew at him, grabbing his shirt and pointing the Colt at his gut. “You’re coming with me.”

  The redhead squealed below. “Daddy, can I drive your car while you’re in jail?”

  Avery fastened handcuffs on Obadiah’s wrists. “You have a car? Show me.”

  “I ain’t showing you anything.”

  Avery motioned at Timothy Dawson. “Go put him in the wagon.” To the redhead he yelled, “Take me to that car!”

  He followed her to the side of the house. A black Model T stood under the trees. Avery checked the back. A rack had been added to the back to hold a gurney in case the doctor had to transport a patient to the hospital in Lufkin.

  “This is Doc Watkin’s car. It’s evidence in a murder investigation.”

  ***

  Wakeforest County Jail

  Timberland, Texas

  Obadiah Clark, a short, husky man with broad shoulders and a sparse blond mustache stared through the bars at Avery with murky blue eyes. With his spare whiskers, he reminded Avery of a catfish, cold and soulless.

  “I don’t know why your boy killed that bitch back there. She wasn’t a bad lay.”

  Avery bristled. He had sent the brothers home. He knew exactly what Garland’s reaction to the incident would be. “That was an accident. Again, where were you on the night of July thirty-first?”

  “I was at home, studying my Bible.”

  Avery wanted to hit him. “Why did you kill Hiram Watkins?”

  Obadiah smirked. “I didn’t kill him. I made good money off that jackass. Why would I kill him?”

  “You have his car!”

  Obadiah didn’t flinch. “He gave me that car. Last Monday. He owed me money.”

  “What about the girl? What happened? She didn’t like it rough?”

  “I don’t know anything about a girl.” He snickered. “Do you know anything about a girl, Avery? You didn’t seem to know what to do with them back when we was in school. All you knew how to do was tattle an’ cry about skinning cats.”

  Avery grabbed Obadiah by the shirt collar and slammed his face into the bars. The violence felt good. The sawed-off little prick deserved more than a bloody nose. He had killed the doctor—Avery knew it.

  In a huff, he turned and walked away before he visited more violence upon Obadiah Clark. He needed to see Garland. Every nerve in his body felt frayed. He wanted to wrap his arms around Garland and feel the world slip away.

  ***

  Sands’ Farm

  As Avery neared Sands’ Farm, he saw something completely unexpected. Flames shone through the hot August night. A chill fled down Avery’s spine. He clucked Bluebird into a gallop.

  A burning cross stood in front of Garland’s house. A group of men dressed in white sheets with pointed hoods over their heads stood around the cross. Some held burning torches. They moved in a knot as Avery neared. It reminded him of kids in a schoolyard watching a fight.

  Avery drew his Colt, cocked it, and fired in the air. The knot of white bodies loosened. Garland! Two of them, on either side, had Garland by the arms. One stood in front of Garland, swinging on him. Garland folded over, but the two men holding him held him up for more.

  Avery drove Bluebird closer. The horse snorted, catching Avery’s rage. Avery waved his gun and yelled at the hooded men. “Get away from him. NOW!”

  The men moved slowly. Too damn slowly. Avery cocked the Colt and shot through the pointy hood of the Klansman to Garland’s right. The men holding Garland sprang away from him. Garland sank to his knees. The circle of Klansmen widened.

  Avery only had four rounds left. He would make them count. Bodies would hit the ground the next time he fired his weapon. He circled the group as if herding cattle. “This here’s private property. Get away from that man and get off of this land before I shoot every last one of you.”

  “That long Colt looks fierce, but you don’t have enough rounds to shoot all of us.”

  The voice was familiar, but Avery couldn’t place it. He spoke the truth, but he underestimated Avery’s anger. “Git ‘em!” Avery flicked his reins up against Bluebird’s neck. The horse’s ears flattened and he bared his teeth. He ran full tilt at the Klansmen who had spoken, grabbed him by the shoulder and hurled him to the ground. The white sheet darkened where the horse’s big teeth had ripped the man’s shoulder.

  “Get out of here!” Avery yelled at them. “You bunch of yellow-bellied bastards! Get out of here before I start filling those sheets with lead!”

  The Klansmen backed away. One stood his ground. “What about the Ripper? You’re high and mighty when it comes to saving your friend, but what about this town?”

  Avery recognized that voice. “I just locked up the Ripper, Pastor D
aniels. Now get your asses home before I start locking y’all up for assault and battery!”

  Chapter Ten

  Sands’ Farm

  “When I was getting the ice, I saw a Colt 1911 out on the kitchen table. Why wasn’t it in your hand?” Avery pressed his naked body against Garland’s and held a damp washcloth to his face.

  Garland, on his side, cradled an icepack to his stomach and sighed. “I was afraid I’d use it. I thought I could talk to them. Thought that was best.”

  Avery kissed the back of his neck. “Guess they wasn’t much for talking.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have said how nice it was of them to wear their pretty white dresses to visit me.”

  Avery snickered. “You’d make a piss poor ambassador.”

  “Yeah. It turned ugly fast. There were too damn many of them. That’s all.”

  “One of them was the pastor of my church. How am I supposed to go there now?”

  “This is East Texas. There’s a church on every corner. Take your pick.” He rumbled in amusement. “You can come to mine.”

  Avery let that go. He wasn’t sure he could go to church with Garland. “Did you see Bluebird take a hunk out of that mouthy one?”

  Garland laughed and winced. “He used to be a cutting horse, didn’t he?”

  “That horse can do all kinds of things. He would have run those fellas down if I’d let him.”

  Avery flicked Garland’s hair and brushed his lips against his shoulder. “You feeling better?”

  “I’ll live.”

  “I hope so.”

  Garland snorted. “I thought you weren’t coming over tonight.”

  “Good thing I did.”

  “Never said it wasn’t.”

  “I caught him. Obadiah Clark. He had the doctor’s car.”

  “What about the girl?”

  “She must have been a whore at that cathouse he was running with Beulah. He cut up a whore not long ago. He’s a real asshole, Garland.” He thought of what would surely get Garland’s goat. “When we were kids, he used to torture cats.”