by Jane Shoup
“Charles had no family left when he was killed?” Jeremy asked, glancing over the brief article.
“No. Probably a good thing.”
Fortunately, the seat next to Jeremy was unoccupied. His new satchel, a large one, sat on the seat next to him and his hand rested atop it. Inside was the money—a still uncounted sum—and gifts for Lizzie and the children.
For Lizzie, he’d purchased a crimson silk robe and a wedding ring, although he’d had to guess at the size. If it needed adjustment, they would come back together. In fact, they would anyway. They’d stay at the best hotel and eat at the finest restaurants and try all the wines.
Except it’s not your money.
He tried to shrug off the thought as he looked out the window. For Rebecca, he’d gotten a tote bag made of canvas, leather, and fabric for transporting her schoolwork back and forth. It was the perfect size, and he’d added a pad of paper bordered with daisies and a pencil bag full of pencils and an eraser.
For Jake, he’d purchased pots of modeling clay and a baseball. There hadn’t been bats small enough for him, but Jeremy would make him one. By the time he started school, he would be ready to keep up. At least at recess.
Buying the gifts had been a great joy and he’d looked forward to giving them. He still did, only . . .
He looked down at his impressive new satchel, highly polished leather with brass buckles. Inside it was his smaller satchel with the money. How much, he didn’t know, but it was enough to provide security for a long, long time. Except it wasn’t his money. He didn’t know who it belonged to. Maybe no one, but it had only fallen into his hands by a twist of fate and because of a cheat. A cheat who’d tried to cheat him. But that didn’t make it his money. Forty-three dollars was his, plus extra for the trouble of the train trip, but he’d spent more than that already. So, what was he to do with the rest of it?
Spend it? Hoard it? Use it wisely? Why shouldn’t he? Most people would. He wondered if most people would feel so conflicted about it.
Marie felt giddy as she turned onto Main, because she’d snuck away from Saul’s without detection. There would be no confrontation and there would be no going back. All she had to her name were the possessions and small amount of cash in the travel bag she carried. She’d left all her risqué clothing, face paint, and accoutrements behind for her friends, as she had no need of them any longer. She’d left the vile tonics, her womb veil, her long-handled sponge, and the ingredients for her after-intercourse douche behind.
When she reached the church, she stopped briefly. In Baltimore, they’d find a friendly church and they’d go on Sundays. In a few years, she could picture her fair-haired young son clutching the hand of his father while she held her dark-haired infant daughter in her arms. Her son would look like his father and her baby girl would look like her. Only her little girl would be smarter and much better cared for than she’d ever been. Her children would never know what she’d been. They would only know her as their sweet, gentle mama.
She meandered through the cemetery to Jenny’s grave and stopped, wondering how different things would have turned out had she not drowned.
Jeremy stopped in the shade of an ancient oak because, across the cemetery, Marie was standing at his family’s gravesite. He’d been planning on going there himself, but he didn’t want to encounter her. Instead he turned and headed toward Emmett’s office.
Marie walked on until she saw the train station to her right. The train was there, and passengers were boarding while others, having just arrived, dispersed. A few walked away, stiff and distracted with the business at hand, while others strolled with loved ones, all bright smiles and happy chatter. She watched people waving good-bye to whoever was behind the small gray windows of the smoke-belching train.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a man said, stopping before her. “Are you from this area?”
He thought she was a lady and so she smiled a serene, restrained smile. “I am.”
“Can you direct me to the Greenway cottage?” he asked.
Her smiled slipped and her heart began to hammer. It was he. It was the man Lizzie was afraid of. “It’s that direction,” she replied, trying to sound calm and natural despite the fact that she was telling an out-and-out lie.
He blinked. “Where’s the town?”
“In that direction.” She pointed.
“I thought the Greenway cottage was east of town. That’s what I was told.”
She shrugged lightly. “I can’t tell one direction from another, but I’ve lived here all my life. The Greenway place is maybe a mile that way.”
He looked aggravated, but tipped his hat to her and walked on. Going toward town. She lifted her skirt slightly and hurried to warn Lizzie.
Rebecca saw Jeremy and ran for him. She reached him and hugged him, which was a wonderful feeling. “What are you still doing in town this late?” he asked.
“We practiced for the Christmas pageant after school. Did you just get back?”
“I just got off the train. I’m going to go see Mr. Rice for a little while, but will you tell your mama I’ll be there soon?”
She grinned, nodded happily, and hurried off, full of purpose.
Marie reached the crooked tree, and hurried over to stash her bag behind it since she’d be able to walk faster without it. She set it down behind the tree where it wasn’t noticeable, then turned and found herself face-to-face with a livid-looking Mr. Ray.
“I guess you know my wife?” he asked accusingly.
“N-no,” she stammered.
“Liar,” he said, giving her a vicious shove backwards.
Her foot caught on a raised root and she was propelled backwards without control. Her head hit the trunk of the tree and she lay stunned. Mr. Ray stepped into view, glaring down at her, and then turned and walked away. She tried to sit up, but only made it a matter of inches. She felt warm blood seeping down the back of her neck. She tried to get up, but she couldn’t. Everything was strange, slanted and moving slowly. So skewed. So very skewed.
“Jeremy,” Emmett said, rising from his desk and extending his hand.
Jeremy shook it. “May I have a few minutes of your time?”
“I’ve got an appointment in a quarter of an hour, but you can have until then.”
Jeremy sat, but was suddenly at a loss for words.
“Something wrong?” Emmett asked gently. “I mean, something other than the obvious. I know what you’ve been through.”
Jeremy sighed. “When I was in the mine, trapped—”
Emmett nodded.
“I thought of something. I had . . . sort of a dream, and I remembered this man who owed me money. He was a gambler. He lost several hands and ended up owing me nearly fifty dollars. This was in August.”
Emmett nodded again, all ears.
“The man claimed he had the money back in his room, but he didn’t. Then he said he’d bring it back, but I didn’t trust him, of course.”
“Understandable.”
“So, in the meantime, I kept his watch and this silver snuff box. He wanted them back real bad. Begged me not to pawn them. He said they had sentimental value. The man’s name was Morrison. Charles Morrison. He swore he’d get the money to me in three days, but he didn’t.”
“The man owes you money,” Emmett said, “says he’ll get it to you in a matter of days. In the meantime, you hold some of his valuables for collateral.”
Jeremy nodded. “But he didn’t return. So this morning I took the train to Roanoke to find him, because he said the money was there in the bank.”
“Sounds like a man who talks a lot and means very little of it,” Emmett said.
“Yeah, only he did have money in the bank.” He leaned over and opened his satchel and pulled out the smaller one from within. He handed that to Emmett, who took it with a bemused expression until he looked inside. He looked up at Jeremy sharply.
“When I got to Roanoke, I went to the sheriff first. He told me Morrison had been shot
and killed. I saw his obituary. Morrison died not a week after he left here.”
“That would explain his failure to reappear. If he’d ever had the intention.”
“Oh, he would have come back, because there were keys hidden in the snuff box I took from him.”
“Keys?”
Jeremy nodded. “I didn’t understand what they were for at first, but then it all came together when I left the sheriff’s office and started thinking about the bank. Morrison said he had the money in a safety deposit box.”
“Ah, the key was to the box.”
“Keys. To the boxes. Yes. So I found the bank and asked for the boxes and they were filled with that,” he said, nodding at the satchel. “I took it.”
“Did you claim to be Morrison?”
“No. I said I wanted to get inside a safety deposit box. The banker asked what number and I told him. I knew because it was on the key. Then he looked it up in a ledger book and asked me the name. I said Morrison. I didn’t say I was Morrison.”
Emmett pondered. “He asked what name was on this account and you told him.”
Jeremy nodded.
Emmett glanced in the bag again. “How much is it?”
Jeremy shook his head. “I didn’t count it.”
Emmett looked regretful. “If Morrison has family—”
“He doesn’t. I made sure.”
“So, why have you come to me?”
“It’s not my money,” he said, knowing full well how foolish the predicament was. He’d gone after the money, collected it, and there it was. But he couldn’t keep it. He’d spent too many years paying for one crime to go and commit another. It felt like a test, and he wasn’t about to fail when he had everything to look forward to right now. He would find another way to survive. “I guess I came for your advice about what to do with it. What’s the right thing to do?”
Emmett leaned back. “Did this Morrison have debts that you know of?”
“He was a card cheat. The sheriff said a dozen men had showed up looking to collect.”
Emmett pondered a few moments. “But he had no family and there’s probably no way of tracking down who’s owed what.”
Jeremy nodded.
Emmett shrugged. “Seems to me this is a stroke of great good fortune.”
“Have I done something illegal?” Jeremy asked worriedly.
“Morrison gave you the snuff box as collateral. He told you he had money in the bank. In fact, he told you the specific bank?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yes, sir. He wanted me to go with him instead of handing over the watch and the box.”
“But you weren’t in a position to go, so he gave you the snuff box with the keys inside and told you about the bank.”
“He didn’t like that I was keeping it. He didn’t like it at all. Like I said, he begged me not to pawn it.”
“You didn’t do anything illegal, Jeremy. Far as I can see, the money is yours.”
“The one thing I do know,” Jeremy rejoined, “is that it’s not mine.”
Emmett considered in silence. “Give me a day or two to think about it?”
“I appreciate it,” Jeremy said. He rose and offered his hand and Emmett shook it with a firm grasp.
Chapter Forty-Six
Lizzie opened the back screened-porch door and swept the dirt out, then tackled the steps. Finishing, she noticed Jake heading back to the fort he’d made, his hands full of toy soldiers. Lucky dutifully followed. She smiled to herself as she set the broom aside, and then went back inside to check the applesauce cake that was baking.
She peeked inside the oven and knew the cake was done. She reached for a hand towel as Lucky started barking, which startled her, because he never barked. He sounded agitated, which made her concerned for Jake. She grabbed the hot pan and quickly set it atop the counter, then turned to go see what the ruckus was about.
Blinding pain was the next thing she experienced, followed by a surprised awareness that she was on the floor. Lucky was close by, barking ferociously. What in the world had happened? Frightened for Jake, she struggled to rise, which was when she saw Ethan hovering above her, his face enraged, his eyes bulging.
“Stupid bitch,” he seethed. “You have any idea how much this stunt of yours cost me?”
She saw his fist fly but could not react fast enough. She nearly cried out at the blow, but the thought of Jake made her bite the sound back. Drawing on all her strength, she lunged at Ethan, clawing at his face. There was a momentary pause after she made contact, and then she felt herself being dragged upwards by her hair. Dizzy from the blows she’d received, she couldn’t stand, nor did she need to. Ethan slammed her head into the corner of the table.
“Four times four is sixteen,” Rebecca chanted as she kicked a pinecone along while she walked home. She was nearly home and was looking forward to telling Mama that Jeremy would be there soon. It was fun to have news to tell. “Four times five is twenty. Four times six—”
She jerked to a halt with a gasp as something flew at her from the brush ahead. It was Jake, and he was crying, his face white with fear as he threw himself into her arms. She could barely breathe for the fear that gripped her. “What’s the matter?”
He made a choking sound. “Pa-pa-pa.”
“Pa?” she repeated incredulously. “He’s here?”
He nodded jerkily. His breathing was strange and wheezy.
“He’s here?” she asked again, not wanting to believe it. “He found us?”
Jake kept nodding. “I th-think—”
“What, Jake?”
“He killed Mama,” Jake whispered.
Rebecca’s stomach clenched, but she couldn’t be sick. “I’ve got to go get Jeremy. He’s in town. You stay here.”
“No,” Jake screamed, grabbing hold of her for dear life.
“Jake, stop it!” She tried to shake him loose, but he wouldn’t budge. “We have to help Mama. Let go! I’m going to go home and—”
“No! He’ll kill you, too,” Jake cried.
“No, he won’t.” She tried to reason. “I won’t even let him see me. Now, let go of me!” With a violent thrust, she shook free of him and broke into a run toward home, because riding Dancer was the fastest way to get to Jeremy. She knew Jake was following, but she couldn’t wait for him. When she reached their property, he was still right behind her. Somehow, he’d kept up even though she was a much faster runner. She crouched and looked around, but there was no sign of her pa. A dog was barking madly, which confused her. “Is that Lucky?” she asked Jake.
Jake nodded.
If he was barking at her father, that meant he was around the house. Or in it. “I have to get to Dancer,” she said. “You stay here.”
She made a dash for the barn and Jake followed, hot on her heels. She went to Dancer and opened his stall. He merely looked at her curiously. She didn’t have time to saddle him, because Pa might see her any moment. Jake had to be wrong about Pa killing Mama, he had to, but if he was hurting her, they couldn’t make him stop. Only Jeremy could make him stop. Or April May with her gun. Either way, they had to get to someone fast.
Shaking from fear and adrenalin, her muscles so stiff she couldn’t move easily, she climbed the slats of the stall and got on Dancer’s back and Jake scrambled on right behind her. She grabbed the mane and kicked the sides of the horse. “Hang on, Jake!”
Jeremy heard a horse approaching. It made him curious, but in no way was he prepared for the shock of seeing Dancer come into view with Rebecca and Jake hanging on for dear life, Rebecca clutching Dancer’s mane, and Jake clutching Rebecca, both of them clearly terrified. They’d only ever ridden with him leading the horse. He dropped his bag and helped stop the horse, then pulled Jake off. The boy didn’t look well and his small body was shaking. “What’s happened?” he asked, directing the question to Rebecca.
“My father is here,” Rebecca cried. “He found us.”
He set Jake down, but the boy’s legs gave way and he fell to the
ground.
“Go to the Blues’,” Jeremy said urgently as he got Rebecca down. She dropped to Jake’s side protectively as Jeremy mounted Dancer and rode out. Cold, sick fear gripped him, making it hard to breathe. When he got close to the cottage and heard a man yelling for the children, he stopped Dancer, dismounted, and ran the rest of the distance on foot, suddenly fearful of what Ethan Ray might do to Lizzie if he saw him coming. The commotion of the man’s yelling and a dog’s barking enabled Jeremy to circle around and enter the house without being heard.
Blood was the first thing he saw when he went into the kitchen. Lizzie was on the floor, lying perfectly still. He reached her and gathered her up in his arms. Her face was cut, swollen and already bruising, but she was alive. The sound of Ethan Ray’s voice was closer now and it brought an icy calmness over Jeremy. He laid Lizzie back down, got to his feet, and moved backwards, flattening himself against the wall.
A man of medium build came into the kitchen and moved close to Lizzie’s body, his fists clenched at his sides. Jeremy stepped out, allowed the man to see him, and then swung his fist into the man’s cheek, crushing bone. An incredulous Ethan staggered backwards and hit the counter. “Nobody hurts my family,” Jeremy said.
Ethan got his feet under him and glared malevolently. “That’s my wife, you son of a bitch, and I have every right—”
The right? Had he really just said that? Jeremy lunged for the man.
Chapter Forty-Seven
April May rounded the cottage carefully, shotgun in hand, and entered the house through the front door. Moving quietly, she made her way into the kitchen, where Lizzie lay on the floor, pale and much too still. There was a pillow beneath her head and a cover draped over her. Lucky was standing beside her whimpering. The older woman’s stomach ached with tension as she hurried to her, knelt, and touched the side of Lizzie’s neck to make sure of a pulse. She exhaled with relief to feel it.
