Ribbon in the Sky

by Dorothy Garlock

  “It was . . . awful. It didn’t seem to bother Elmer at all. He dumped Cecil in that wagon like . . . like he was nothin’.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Letty took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’ve got to go to the sheriff.”

  “What if . . . what if he takes Elmer’s word against mine?”

  “Why would he do that when you take him to the siding where the whiskey was unloaded? You’ve got Arlo to back you up.” Sharon said. “We’ll make him tell about the bootlegging.”

  “Elmer could pin this whole thing on me!”

  “You had no reason to kill Cecil,” Sharon argued.

  “Who do you know that will take us to Boley, Oscar?” Letty was impatient to be on the way.

  “Keith Rowe over at the garage. Offer him five dollars. He’ll ask for more, but he’ll jump at doin’ it for five if you hold out.”

  “I’ll go make the arrangements. Wait in the alley behind the bank. We’ll pick you up.”

  Letty turned away, then turned back and kissed Oscar on the cheek. “I always knew that underneath you were a good, decent man. You just needed someone to curb your wild ways. I’m glad you and Sharon have found each other.”

  * * *

  They reached Boley at noon. Signs announcing Sister Cora’s revival meeting in the pavilion at the fairgrounds littered the town. Letty scarcely noticed them. She directed the driver to take them to the Hewitt Hotel, where she had spent the night more than five years ago: a frightened, pregnant, fifteen-year-old. She walked into the hotel, confidently this time, and signed the register.

  The clerk looked at the signature, swallowed, and looked again.

  “Mrs. Mike . . . Dolan? Is that . . . is that the man the sheriff—?”

  “Mike Dolan is my husband. We’ll be spending the night here. Did you say Room 209?” She pulled the key from his still fingers wondering how long he was going to leave his mouth hanging open.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll bring up your luggage.”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t have any.”

  Letty motioned to Sharon and Oscar and they went up the broad carpeted stairs and down a narrow hallway to the room. Inside, Letty shut the door, put the key in the lock, and turned it. Oscar and Sharon stood in the middle of the room looking around. Letty went to the window. All she could see was the sky and the roof of the building next door.

  “This will be a good place for you to stay out of sight. I’ll find Doctor Hakes and bring him here before we go to the sheriff.”

  On the street the noonday sun was hot on Letty’s back. Sweat trickled down between her breasts. Her wide-brimmed hat offered some shade, but not enough to keep the moisture from plastering her hair to her temples. She caught sight of herself in the reflection of a store window she passed and thought how outdated her hat and clothes were. It really didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at all but finding Wallace and getting Mike released from jail.

  She climbed the stairs and opened the door to Doctor Whittier’s office, and there sat Wallace across the desk from the older man. They stared at each other for several seconds. Then Wallace jumped to his feet.

  “Letty! What in the world are you doing here?”

  “Thank goodness. I never dreamed I would find you so soon. The sheriff has arrested Mike for the murder of Cecil Weaver,” she blurted breathlessly. “Oh, hello, Doctor Whittier. Do you remember me? I’m Jacob Fletcher’s granddaughter.”

  “ ’Course I remember you.”

  “Wallace, Mike was with us when Cecil was murdered. I tried to tell the sheriff he was with you. He wouldn’t believe me, but he’ll believe you—”

  “I went out on a call with Doc Whittier. We got back to town about an hour ago and heard that Mike had been brought in, but I didn’t hear when Weaver was killed.”

  “The body was found at dawn, about the time we got back from Briskin. They came after Mike because he had been to town the night before looking for Cecil after Cecil . . . after he hit me. But, Wallace”—she grabbed his arm—“Oscar Phillips saw who killed him. He and Sharon Tarr are over at the hotel.”

  “Did he tell you who did it?”

  “The deputy, Elmer Russell. Oscar is scared to death. He’s afraid the sheriff will take the deputy’s word against his. Let’s get Mike out and take the sheriff to talk to Oscar.”

  “Wait a minute. Let me think. Mike is all right where he is for a few hours. Let’s leave him there while Ledbetter talks to Oscar.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “He’s right,” Doc Whittier said. “Ledbetter is a good man. I never did have any use for that hotheaded deputy. Your man will be better off in a safe cell until Russell’s locked up. You two go on back to the hotel. I’ll get Ledbetter and bring him over.”

  “Good idea.” Wallace ushered Letty to the door.

  “Room 209,” Letty said over her shoulder. “And . . . please hurry.”

  * * *

  Oscar told his story to Doctor Hakes and thirty minutes later repeated it for Doctor Whittier and Sheriff Ledbetter. Letty listened anxiously, watching the sheriff’s face for his reaction. He fingered his chin, bored his ear with a forefinger, and scratched his head. When Oscar had finished, he got up and looked out the window. As there was no way for Letty to know what he was thinking, her anxiety grew.

  “Charging a law enforcement officer with bootlegging is one thing, but charging him with murder is a serious matter. I’ve got to have more than your say-so, Phillips. Not that I don’t believe you. But rock-hard evidence is needed.”

  “Take him to the siding, hon,” Sharon said. “You said Elmer threw the club in the bushes.”

  “Well now, that would be evidence.”

  “Oh, Gawd!” Oscar moaned. “I sure as hell don’t want to go back there but I will if it’ll help.”

  “Take me along, sheriff,” Doctor Whittier said. “I’ve been reading up on forensic medicine. Fascinating stuff. Where’s Weaver’s body?”

  “At the undertaker in Piedmont.”

  “If you find the club I might be able to match it to the blow on Weaver’s head.”

  “Good idea, Doc. Glad to have all the help I can get.”

  “Elmer will kill me when he finds out what I’ve told you,” Oscar said.

  “No, he won’t,” Sheriff Ledbetter assured him. “I’ve got a fellow headed for the state pen. I’ll put him and Elmer on the three o’clock train, then we’ll head up to Piedmont.” When the sheriff went to the door, Letty jumped up off her perch on the end of the bed.

  “What about Mike? You know he’s innocent. You can’t just go off and leave him in jail while you chase around looking for . . . for clubs and things.”

  “I’ll release him after three o’clock, Mrs. Dolan. It’s just another forty-five minutes. I want Elmer to think we have a cut-and-dried case until I have the evidence to arrest him.”

  “I guess I can wait. But it seems to me you’d have the decency to apologize for putting us through this.” Letty’s chin lifted defiantly.

  “I’ll not apologize, ma’am. Dolan was a logical suspect because he sought revenge against Weaver. If I hadn’t arrested him, Phillips might not have come forward and Elmer would have gotten off scot-free.”

  “I realize you were doing your duty, but . . . oh, well, I’m sorry, Sheriff. I’ve just been so upset.” Letty sank back down on the bed.

  The sheriff took out his watch and flipped open the lid. When he spoke, it was to Wallace.

  “Bring her over to the jail when you hear the train leave. I’ll be there shortly. You’ll have to sign a paper that Dolan was with you from six in the evening until you left the farm at eight in the morning. After that he’ll be free to go.”

  The minute the door closed behind the doctor and the sheriff, Sharon drew Oscar over beside the window and talked to him in low tones. He listened attentively. Letty couldn’t help but think that Sharon was going to have her hands full raising Oscar’s children—and Oscar! Perhaps he was just what Sharon needed—s
omeone to need her.

  “Have you had anything to eat?” Wallace asked, bringing Letty’s attention to him.

  “Not since morning, but I’m not hungry. Did you have any trouble with Fellon? Did he sober up?”

  “No trouble to speak of. And he’s sober and suffering. Tonight I’m taking him to Sister Cora’s meeting. Then he can go to the devil for all I care.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  “I’m not sure. But I have to try to expose her for the crook she is.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t be sorry, Letty. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re right, yet . . . I’m still sorry.”

  At times it was hard for Letty to believe she had ever been a member of the Pringle family; singing duets with Cora, passing the collection plates, handing out religious pamphlets, never being free to run and play and shout like the other children. And there was always Cora—watching to tattle to their father if she did anything wicked or unladylike.

  Letty had almost completely blocked those miserable details of her unhappy childhood from her mind. Now, when she thought of her life in Dunlap, her thoughts were always of the times she spent with Mike. He had been her best friend. Now he was her lover, her husband, her life’s companion. They had made their own family.

  * * *

  The stone courthouse in the middle of the town square was surrounded by trees and flowering bushes. It was the pride of Tillman County. The clock set in the high arch over the doorway was always on time, the windows shiny clean, the lawn mowed and raked, the walks swept. Each day from one of the four towers, a blast from a whistle announced twelve o’clock noon, at which time shops closed and business people went home for dinner.

  Sheriff Ledbetter’s office and the county jail were located in the basement of the courthouse. Letty sat in a barrel chair in a room separated from the office by a frosted glass partition. Her eyes were fastened to the door that had closed behind Wallace and the sheriff. Her hat was on a chair beside her. With forked fingers she loosened the damp hair at her temples, then tried to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt.

  The courthouse clock struck half-past three. The only other sounds to reach her were muffled voices, footsteps, and the occasional clang of an iron door being closed.

  It seemed to her she had been sitting there forever when, without warning, the door opened and Mike came into the room. He looked tired. A stubble of dark beard shadowed his cheeks. The dark eyes that fastened to her face were full of concern. A sob caught in her throat. She couldn’t say anything. Emotion made her eyes fill with tears and her voice break.

  “Mike! Oh, M-Mike—”

  He crossed the room in quick strides, arms reaching for her. Letty found herself crushed against his hard chest while he covered her face with fierce kisses and murmured words of concern and love.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart? Love . . . are you all right?”

  “Now I am!” She sobbed with relief. “I was afraid. Hold me tight, Mike, darling. Hold me tight—”

  “I will, I will!” He clasped her to him. “Letty, my sweet Letty . . . honey, don’t cry. It’s over. We can go home.” He held her away from him so that he could look with adoring eyes into her tear-streaked face.

  “Did they hurt you?” She ran her hands over the strong line of his back and shoulders, then up to clasp around his neck. “You look so tired.”

  He grinned. “I need a shave and . . . a bath.”

  “We have a room at the hotel, but Oscar and Sharon are in it right now.”

  “Doctor Hakes filled me in on all that’s happened.”

  “Did he tell you that Elmer Russell killed Cecil Weaver and Oscar saw him do it?”

  “He told me. You were so right about Russell. I swear he’d have found an excuse to shoot me if the sheriff hadn’t been along. It’s over, honey, it’s over,” he said when he saw the worried frown on her face. “And now Helen won’t have to worry about going back to a father like Weaver.”

  Letty framed his face with her fingers, touching the tired lines written there. Her eyes, soft and loving, carefully scanned each feature.

  “I was so worried about you,” she whispered and kissed his lips again. “Every day for the rest of my life I’m going to tell you how much I love you. You are my love, my life, my strength, my . . . happiness. I love you with every beat of my heart.” She buried her lips in the smooth skin of his throat. He responded to her words with muffled love words of his own, his arms straining her to him.

  “Darling wife.” His voice trembled with emotion. “I’d walk through hell to hear you say that.”

  She fitted her mouth to his. The kiss was long and sweet. She wasn’t even aware when it ended because his lips were still on her face.

  “My whiskers are scratching your face,” he murmured. “I’ll try to be careful.”

  “I . . . don’t care!” She laughed happily. “Oh, Mike, we can be alone tonight, really alone. The sheriff is going to take Oscar and Sharon back to Piedmont.”

  “I don’t have a cent with me, love.”

  “I have thirty dollars.” She delved into her pocket and shoved the small leather purse in his hands. “I had to pay five dollars to the man who brought us down from Piedmont. Let’s stay here tonight and tomorrow and go home the next day. We’ll have a honeymoon.”

  “I don’t have clean clothes—”

  “We’ll buy you a shirt. We’ll eat in a restaurant and . . . and just be alone together.”

  “And we’ll make love in a bed.” His lips rubbed hers in sensuous assault.

  “Oh, yes, yes—” She laughed softly, gayly. “We’ll find a barber shop. You can get a shave so you won’t have to be careful of scratching my face.”

  “I need a bath—”

  “—There’s one in the hotel.”

  Because they were absorbed in one another, they were unaware that Doctor Hakes had come into the room until he cleared his throat.

  “Wallace!” Letty exclaimed. “Thank you.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Mike held out his hand, one arm still around Letty.

  Wallace clasped Mike’s hand and shrugged. “Do you plan to stay here tonight? I’ll be going back tomorrow. Be glad to give you a ride.”

  Mike smiled down into Letty’s glowing face. “We were just talking about staying over tomorrow and going home the next day.”

  “Well, the offer’s open if you change your mind.”

  “Are you still planning to take Fellon to Cora’s meeting tonight?”

  “It’s what I came here to do.”

  “I’d like to go with you, Doctor.” Mike’s expression turned serious. “You’d have a little trouble handling Fellon by yourself. He’s rip-roaring mad right now and bragging about what all he’s going to do when he’s out of that jail cell.”

  A grin brightened the doctor’s face. “I was hoping you’d say that. God didn’t give me all that much physical strength.”

  “I can handle Fellon if you can handle the other.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you here at the jail at eight o’clock. Do you want to come along, Letty?”

  “I’d not miss it. I know just when you should present your faker, but I must warn you that you may not be believed.”

  “Why not?” Wallace frowned. “I’ll read Doctor Perkins’s telegram and make Fellon tell of being paid to impersonate a cripple.”

  “By the time Cora gets to the healing part of the service, she’ll have the people believing that she’s an extension of God. I’ve seen crowds so riled up they would believe that black was white if my father told them.”

  “Surely people will believe what they see with their own eyes.”

  “You’re a good man, Wallace Hakes. I hope they’ll believe that you’re trying to help them.” The worried frown left Letty’s face when she looked up at her husband. “I want to get out of this place and into the sunshine.”

  Wallace watched them leave with the
ir arms entwined. A feeling of loneliness settled over him and a look of wistfulness blanketed his face. Lately, he had come to realize how much he had missed by devoting all his time to medicine. He wondered if Mike Dolan realized just how lucky he was.

  * * *

  Mike and Letty climbed the stairs to the main floor of the courthouse, then hand-in-hand they strolled down the steps to the walk that led to the street. Out in the bright sunshine Letty couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Isn’t this wonderful? We’ve never even walked down a street together.”

  He smiled down at her with a lazy grin that caused a heavenly torment to erupt in her belly.

  “Yes, love. It’s wonderful. I want the whole world to know that you belong to me—you and Patrick.”

  “Has anyone ever been this happy before?”

  “I doubt it, sweetheart.” His eyes were shining with love and pride. He pulled her arm up under his and laced their fingers together. “How far to the hotel? I don’t think I can wait to kiss you. I’m starved! Just starved!”

  Laughter bubbled from her lips. Happiness sang in her heart.

  * * *

  The white-haired man in the black serge suit placed his hat on the counter and waited impatiently while the hotel clerk registered another guest. He drummed his fingers on the polished wood. The clerk ignored him and kept up his polite chatter to the other guest.

  “We hope you and Mrs. Williamson will enjoy your stay with us here at the Hewitt,” he said with a practiced smile that faded from his face the instant the key left his fingers. “Now, sir, what can I do for you?”

  “A room. Why else would I be standing here while you waste time in idle chitchat?” The booming voice was heard in every corner of the lobby. The clerk’s face reddened from his stiff high collar to his slicked-down hair.

  “You’re in luck, sir. We have one room left. It’s on the top floor. You see, Sister Cora is in town and rooms have been booked ahead.”