She ignored that, and as Buck moved closer, she asked, “What now?”
Jesse stared out over the farm. “We’ll have to come back and clean out all the junk, then you can scrub the place down. House is still in one piece. Once it gets aired out, someone could probably live here again.”
Someone? Adah sensed an opening. Maybe she could negotiate with Jesse. As awful as he could be, he did seem the most reasonable. Adah said, “Do you think Daisy and I could ever come back here?”
He stared at her hard, eyes turning to slits. “You and Daisy?”
“This was our home. Her home. If the house becomes livable, of course we’d want to come back.”
Jesse lifted his head, and his lips curled in contempt. “You best put thoughts like that out of your head. You think we’re going to let his murderer live in Lester’s house?”
Murderer? It was the first time any of the Branches had actually spoken the word. The sound of it like abject terror. Just ignore it, she told herself. They have nothing on you. But hope fell from Adah’s chest into her gut. Bringing up ownership of the farm with any of the Branches was out of the question now. Even so, a small sense of promise surged through her. Jesse thought the house could be lived in again.
She followed Jesse’s gaze as he looked past her then. Buck was approaching, carrying some things. As he drew closer she could see that he’d found a saddle and, in his other hand, something that chilled her blood. The shovel.
“Found these caught up in a tree over there near the property line,” Buck said as he heaved the saddle into the truck bed and then slid in the shovel.
“Anything else?” Jesse asked while Adah tried to slow her breathing and squelch the panic tightening the skin all over her body.
Buck said, “Not a damn thing.”
The drive home was tedious and tense, and it seemed no one had the urge to speak, not even Daisy, who fell asleep in Adah’s lap.
As soon as they arrived back at the Branch home, Mabel lurched down the porch steps. Her face tear-streaked and pinched, she scurried to the driver’s side of the truck as they pulled up.
“What happened?” Buck asked through the open window.
“Lester,” Mabel said with a sound like a moan. “They found Lester.”
Chapter Eight
The morgue door opened, and the first thing to hit Adah was the smell. Beneath the antiseptic overlay was the unmistakable scent of death and decay, one she had never smelled before, but she recognized it for what it was. She stifled her gag reflex and forced herself to step inside the cold green-tiled walls of the morgue, which was located in the basement of police headquarters. Bright lights overhead hurt her eyes, and a buzzing sound seemed like a warning.
Jesse and Buck followed one step behind her.
As Lester’s wife, she could have identified the body alone, but her brother- and father-in-law had both wanted to come and do so as well. Adah could’ve let them do it without her, but her survival instinct drove her to attend. If anything came up about Lester’s death, she wanted to hear about it firsthand and be there to defend herself. As dangerous as it felt to go with the men, it was better than drowning in fear, waiting for them to return without knowing what had transpired.
They had ridden to town in total silence, Buck’s eyes never leaving the road ahead and Jesse staring out the passenger-side window intently, as if even one glance at Adah would amount to agony.
As she moved farther inside the morgue, her eyes were drawn to only one thing. On a metal table, the contours of a man’s body lay covered head to toe with a white sheet, that body as still as the tile floor beneath her feet.
The coroner, who wore a black suit and a concerned expression and exuded enough apprehension to make Adah’s worse, waited for her to approach. When she stood before him, he introduced himself, and then he addressed only her: “Because the body spent so much time in near-freezing-cold water, it’s well preserved, considering. That’s not to say it’s a soothing sight. I have to warn you, Mrs. Branch, identifying a body in this condition can come as a shock. It’s not for the faint of heart.” He gestured to Jesse and Buck. “Are you sure you don’t want the male family members to identify the body?”
Adah nodded. “I’m sure.”
“No shame in letting the men do it for you.”
“I have to see for myself.”
The coroner looked reluctant for a moment and then gave a single nod. “Alright, then.”
She stood with Jesse and Buck on either side of her now, clamping her in as if with a wrench, as the coroner pulled back the sheet, exposing Lester’s head and upper torso. Again, the smell of death hit her, and she rocked back on her heels. And then there were the open glassy eyes, waxy skin the color of a pale bruise, and lips an opaque purple, almost black. But his face! Oh so dreadfully familiar. Yes, it was her husband, or what was left of him. The man she had once loved, the man she had grown to despise, the man she had killed.
As if someone had reached down and pulled the pins out of her knee joints, her legs gave way and she sank into herself, slumping down, down, down, a sickness in her stomach, until a pair of arms lifted her back to her feet. Jesse released her while expelling an almost-silent disgusted snort. She had momentarily stopped breathing. Quickly she sucked in big lungfuls of air. Blinking against white stars swimming and dipping in her vision, she realized that the Branch men had identified Lester, and, taken together with her visceral response, the coroner had determined that the task required of them on this day had been completed.
A policeman escorted her to the truck and made sure she was alright before leaving her alone. Still gasping, Adah reentered the world in which she had committed the worst of all crimes. Her secret, her cross to bear. She had somehow managed to put it out of her mind most of the time, but now it was back with the fervor of a pouncing wildcat. Her humanity was in question, her very essence.
Over the course of her life, she had learned that people could hold inside the brightest peaks and the darkest pits, and there were those who straddled the break—half of them drawn to evil, half drawn to beauty. Those people could step from one side to the other and back again as if the line were as thin as a strand of hair. Her husband had been one of those people. Was she one of them, too?
She sat for what felt like hours, gazing out at the sunny, slightly breezy day, at boys riding bicycles, women strolling by pushing baby carriages, and working men eating lunches out of paper bags. A scene as peaceful and promising as this new spring day. The still-bare trees made a mesh of shadow and light on the brown ground, which was urging toward green. It seemed impossible to grasp what had happened, what she’d done.
But the world would go on and waited for no one to catch up. She would have to go on, too. And Lester’s body having been found west of Paducah on the floodplain after the water receded left no reason to ever doubt her story. The facts surrounding the discovery of Lester’s body had been revealed to them when they’d first arrived at the police station. It had all worked to her advantage. She should’ve been relieved. She should’ve felt safer.
So why were Jesse and Buck staying so long inside the police station?
A crushing sensation in her chest brought on rapid breathing and threatened the return of the swimming white stars, but Adah told herself to stay calm. Knowing the Branch men, they probably wanted every detail about how and where Lester’s body had been found, details she didn’t care to know. And still, she had the urge to lurch from the truck and go back inside the station, to bear witness to what was transpiring instead of waiting exposed and alone, a sitting duck. If anything suspicious had come up, would the policeman have led her to the truck? Would he come back with handcuffs and tell her she was being charged with murder?
Adah talked herself out of another episode of near panic. Minutes elongated, and the inside of the truck cab grew warmer, but she kept telling herself not to worry. The police would’ve included her if they’d had anything further to say. She was going to g
et away with murder.
And yet when the Branch men finally emerged, Buck’s face was bloodred, and he wore a look not of grief but of rage. Jesse looked little better.
They slid inside the truck cab without a word, and Buck drove away. Adah glanced at her father-in-law once and saw that beads of sweat had gathered on his upper lip even though it was pleasant outside. Something other than the weather had clearly pervaded Buck with a mad heat.
The spring warmth was only just beginning to urge life back to the land, and the scenes beyond the window were as bleak and barren as Adah’s thoughts, and yet as they drove away from the station, she started to relax.
Until halfway back to the house, when Buck let out a long stream of air Adah could feel on her arms and said, “That was quite an act you put on in there.”
She gulped silently, panic already beginning to grab on to her gut again. How quickly could only a few words or a look from one of the Branches toss her like a small boat surrounded by angry seas. “What do you mean?”
“Nearly fainting and all that. Yeah, that was damn good.”
Adah remained facing forward and didn’t move a muscle.
“You might have fooled some idiot in there, but don’t you go and think you’ve fooled me and Jesse.” Buck released an angry huff. “What I saw in there sure weren’t no comfort. No, sirree. Do you know what I saw back there?”
She shook her head.
“Any ideas? Any guesses?”
She shook her head again.
“You of all people know what I saw. What I saw looked like my son’s head had been bashed in.”
Adah’s heart froze in midbeat.
“Them fools in there kept on saying there’s no telling what Les done bumped up against while he was in the water, that all manner of things could have hit him in the head, full as it was with junk, but I don’t think nothing happened to his head in the river. We Branches ain’t no fools. You best believe that’s not what I think happened.”
“You got something to confess?” said Jesse.
Adah wouldn’t answer, too afraid of the terror that her voice might reveal.
Jesse continued. “Come on, now. Ain’t you heard that ole saying that confession is good for the soul?”
Adah sat still, her muscles tensed like taut wires, spine tingling, scalp tightening.
“You must think you’re some smart cookie,” Jesse said. “Thinking you done tricked everyone with your swooning spell back there. You’re not no actress, that’s for sure.”
“It wasn’t an act,” Adah breathed out.
Jesse laughed menacingly. “Sure was a good one. If’n we’d been in there alone, I would’ve let you fall straight down on the floor. But then again, you might’ve caught yourself and saved yourself the fall, right? Somehow no harm never comes to you. Now, why’s that? I wanna know. You’re one lucky little bitch, ain’t you?”
“It’s alright, Son,” Buck said with a snorting sound. “We know what happened. We saw it, didn’t we? You don’t have to say nothing,” he said, addressing Adah now. “Today I saw what really happened to my son, and I know who did it, too. Happens to be sitting here in my truck betwixt me and my other son, happens to be living in my house that’s been in the family for generations, eating my food, sleeping in one of my rooms.”
Jesse interjected, “Les once told me he was sorry he’d ever married you. Said you weren’t to be trusted.”
Still not moving, Adah became aware of her right leg trembling. Why had Lester said that to his brother? But then again, what had she expected of a wife beater? Her husband had probably convinced himself and his family that she was a bad person; therefore, in some sick way, he could justify what he’d been doing to her. She pressed down on the ball of her foot then, willing the trembling to stop. Never show weakness to people like the Branches.
Buck went on. “Even if I cain’t do nothing about it right at this moment, you best be sure that I will. Don’t you never go fooling yourself that we believe your cock-and-bull story. Don’t think you’re making the fool out of us.”
“No more lucky breaks for you,” Jesse said.
And Buck finished, “Don’t never go thinking you got off scot-free.”
Sleep was impossible that night, and well after midnight, when all was silent except for the scratching of mice and the songs of night birds, Adah slipped out from under the covers, leaving Daisy, and tiptoed down the stairs, wearing only a nightgown. Her feet whispered across the wood floors. She was barely breathing as she eased open the front door silently and slipped like smoke to the truck, the air outside as frosty as if it were inside the morgue. Both of the Branches’ dogs approached her but didn’t make a sound, since they’d been trained to bark only for strangers, fire, or other dangers and to keep quiet at all other times. She reached down and scratched both dogs’ heads to be certain they would sense nothing amiss and stay quiet.
After carefully and slowly opening the passenger-side door, she searched for the cash box and found it where she had placed it. It had shifted position a bit but otherwise was easy to find. Taking the box with her, she retraced her steps and hid the locked box under her bed, then lay down again next to Daisy and thought through once again what had happened and what she needed to do.
Obviously Jesse and Buck, even with their influence in the community, hadn’t been able to convince the police that foul play had caused Lester’s death; otherwise she would’ve been arrested or at least questioned. They were well connected but not enough for the police to charge someone for a crime without evidence. So she was off the hook as far as the law was concerned. But Jesse and Buck had seen what she hadn’t wanted them to see, and she had no idea what they would do with that information.
Would they tell Mabel? Would they tell others of their suspicions? Would they tell Daisy? What did they have in mind for her when Buck said, Don’t never go thinking you got off scot-free ? Would they take matters into their own hands and hand out vigilante justice as they had against the farmworker who had stolen from them? Would they slit her throat in the middle of the night or stage a fatal accident?
Now at least she had the cash box, although she had no idea how much money was inside. She’d never had a key, hadn’t found any keys at the house, and the police had found no possessions on Lester’s body. She would have to bang it open, and how would she do that without making too much noise and calling attention to herself? Even though the money was rightfully hers, she didn’t want the Branches to know about it. She would have to figure out how to break the lock later, and then, with some cash in hand, she would go to an attorney in town and get him to work on custody of Daisy and at least partial ownership of the farm. Once out of the house and with nothing proven against her, she could begin her life with Daisy anew.
“Time,” she breathed out. It was only a matter of time now.
The next day, Mabel and Buck gathered themselves to drive the sedan to the funeral home in order to make plans for Lester’s service. Now that a body had been found, there was no need to wait any longer. Plans were made, Adah not once being consulted.
She was sincerely pleased she didn’t have to go with them. She hated funerals and funeral homes, and playing the grieving widow while so consumed with her own thoughts and plans would have been difficult at best.
Buck had made no eye contact with her since the coroner, but before he and Mabel left, he glared at her hard and said, “Nothing here means anything to you. Not even that girl you pretend to care about.”
Adah rose to her full height. Buck was the kind of enemy who knew just where to strike. Accuse her of anything, but not about her feelings for Daisy. Stunned by his cruelty and surprised that it still stunned her, Adah stated firmly, “That’s not true.” She was showing vulnerability. She had to arrest the resentment in her voice.
“You’re not her mother. Don’t never forget that,” Mabel said, and Adah paused. These two were capable of cruelty even on the day they would take the first steps in laying their
son’s body to final rest. Pain and loss made some people kind; others became even more susceptible to their own demons. They would go to the funeral home and make the necessary arrangements without fuss, never once letting even one sign of vulnerability escape from their shallow souls.
Buck turned on his heel and opened the icebox door, then took a swig of milk from the milk bottle. He said not another word to her before leaving abruptly. Mabel followed solemnly behind him.
When Buck and Mabel were gone, Jesse fired up the tractor and started a second tilling of the main tobacco fields. While he was far away and out of sight, Adah grasped the opportunity to break the lock on the cash box. She put Daisy down for a nap and found an ax in the shed, then took the box with her to the barn, set it in the straw on the ground to muffle the sound, and then swung the ax against the front of the box. The lid broke off easily.
Adah fell to her knees and pushed the lid aside. Inside, a lot of dry bills. The box had remained watertight. She counted out the bills: $122, a small fortune. She’d had no idea Lester had been able to save so much. He’d once told her he kept an emergency fund, but this amount was surprising. Another thing he’d hidden from her.
She folded the money into her apron pocket, determined to later find a good hiding spot in her room, and then half ran to the wooded part of the farm, through a thick stand of maple, ash, and buckeye trees, and finally to a small creek that crossed the corner of the property. Overhead the tree limbs and branches wove a lacy net, blocking all but occasional flashbulbs of the sun. She was alone. This would be a good place to commit a murder. Dump the body and no one would find it.
The water was running high, full of spring runoff dancing and singing over stones and carrying away debris. Now it would take the damning box away from here, so she tossed it in, saw the current catch it, and watched it float away.
Now she had money. Not as much as she still hoped to receive from the farm, but enough to take steps in the right direction. Money could make things happen. Money meant everything. It could buy her freedom from this family. Freedom for both Daisy and her. It was like the glory that preachers promised the poor and downtrodden every Sunday. Maybe now there would be mercy, even for Adah.
The River Widow Page 8
