Sadie didn't particularly like working nights, but it left her days open to think first about Jaycee, and then about Happy. In fact, she had become obsessed, thinking about Happy. She drove back to Sycamore Springs twice, to the place she used to deliver food to his makeshift shelter. The wind and rain had taken its toll. The wet box had collapsed and begun to disintegrate. Sadie poked around under the cardboard shell but could find nothing that would give her any answers.
As she drove home she worked through all the filing cabinets in her brain, trying to make sense of her situation. Then late one night, a tiny angel walked through the front door of the grocery store and answered Sadie's prayers.
Candy was all dressed up as a Christmas angel. Her white dress and tights were a little worse for wear with smudged knees and elbows. Her left wing drooped unmercifully, creating the saddest-looking angel Sadie had ever seen. Christine followed the little angel into the store, holding a cigarette between her lips, teetering on red spiked heels.
“My, what a beautiful angel you are,” said Sadie, kneeling down to the little girl's level. “Do you remember me? I met you one time…”
“Leave the lady alone, Candy. Leroy's in a hurry for this beer.” Christine hoisted a twenty-four-pack of beer onto the checkout counter. “Do I know you?” she asked.
Sadie slid the beer across the scanner. “I met you in the lobby of the Sycamore Springs police station…a while back.”
“Oh.”
“Actually, I'm glad I've run into you,” said Sadie. Before Sadie could think, she launched into a myriad of questions she had wondered about ever since Charlie had told her about Candy's encounter with Happy.
“I don't know nothing about that man,” said Christine. “And neither does my little girl. He was just weird.”
“Listen, I get off at seven o'clock. Can I buy you and Candy some breakfast? I'd like to talk to you some more about this.”
“And Leroy?”
“Bring Leroy, too. I'll buy all you can eat if you'll help me out.”
Christine looked at Candy, then back at Sadie. “I guess.”
“Be back at seven, okay?”
Christine agreed to return as she left the grocery store, toting the beer in one hand and dragging the little angel with the other.
A few hours later, Sadie was sitting in a corner booth at the Waffle House with Christine, Candy, and Leroy. Her three guests ate like they were starving, giving Sadie some satisfaction that what she was doing was right.
The redheaded waitress kept oohing and ahhing over how cute Candy was in her angel outfit, each time she swished by to refill someone's coffee. Suddenly, the waitress looked up and saw a car pull in the parking lot. She stopped dead in her tracks and rushed behind the counter to start a new pot of coffee.
Sadie watched the woman in amusement as first she straightened her uniform, then tried to finger-comb her hair using the window of the kitchen door as a makeshift mirror. Sadie was sure every customer in the diner had disappeared as far as this waitress was concerned.
The door opened and the waitress's face glowed and her voice took on a musical flair. “Hey, Big Mac, got a fresh pot brewing…just for you.”
“Why, thank you, Gladys,” he replied as he nonchalantly took a seat at the counter.
Sadie watched quietly while Gladys fussed over the big man. She felt like she was intruding on Charlie's personal life and wished she could become invisible, or somehow grow small and shrink under the table.
He spooned ice into his coffee and stirred, casually looking in Sadie's direction.
Christine and Leroy reluctantly agreed to help Sadie and waddled out of the Waffle House, each with a full belly. Sadie handed Gladys a credit card at the front register and chewed on a toothpick, waiting for the transaction to process. When she walked out into the cool air of the morning, somehow she knew who was following close behind.
“Come on, Sadie, get in the cruiser before I catch my death of cold.” Charlie sounded irritated.
Sadie opened the passenger side of the police car and climbed in beside an assortment of electronic gear. One contraption looked like a space-age mini-computer.
Charlie started the car and turned the heater on low. “Let's hear it,” he said.
“Hear what?” Sadie tried to sound innocent.
Charlie propped his elbow on the steering wheel, placed his hand on his forehead, and rubbed his eyebrows. “What in the world are you doing having breakfast with one of our most frequent customers at the county jail and his lady-of-the-evening friend?”
“Charlie, I have a great idea…well, maybe a crazy idea…but if it works, it'll pay off real big…and I could really use your help, too…tomorrow…it's Saturday.”
“I'm listening.”
Sadie's eyes shined with excitement as she explained to Charlie how she planned to take Candy to visit Happy. The little girl was the only person who had stirred something deep inside the poor man to make him want to talk. However, under the circumstances, he had never gotten the opportunity. Sadie wanted to give him that chance. Once he started talking, Sadie felt sure Happy would shed some light on the bank robber.
“Charlie, will you help me?” she asked.
“Sadie, I think you're crazy.” Charlie stopped long enough to listen as his radio began to gurgle, then he reached over and turned the volume down. “But I'll go with you.”
Sadie almost jumped in her seat. “Oh, thanks, Charlie. You don't know…”
“Go on, now. I've got work to do. Just remember one thing…”
Sadie opened the car door to get out and then turned and looked back at Charlie.
“I wouldn't do this for just anybody,” he said.
The next morning, Charlie and Sadie, with Christine and Candy in tow, arrived at the state hospital. Leroy had opted to stay at home and drink the free beer Sadie had provided. The north wind began to deliver the first cold blast of the season, adding a sense of excitement to the air. Two cedar shrubs that flanked the front door twinkled with tiny white lights, a reminder that Christmas was not far away.
Dr. Graham met the group at the front desk and asked them to assemble in a small meeting room to discuss Sadie's proposal again. She had been reluctant on the phone, but finally agreed to let Sadie and Candy meet with the patient. The doctor decided that since Happy was accustomed to Sadie's visits, she might have a calming effect on the situation. The rest of the party would have to wait where they were.
The doctor explained to Candy that she was going to meet a man who couldn't talk, a man she had seen before at the police station. And that he might become upset, but she would be safe, that he could not hurt her. The little girl seemed to understand.
Sadie took Candy's hand and they followed Dr. Graham down the long hallway to Happy's room. The two visitors waited outside the room while the doctor went inside and talked to Happy. After a few minutes, the door opened and Dr. Graham invited the two inside.
At first, Happy sat on his bed and stared out the window. Finally, he turned and looked at Sadie and laughed. Then he turned his gaze to Candy, who stood at Sadie's side, partly hidden behind her leg.
“Hello,” said Candy.
Happy's laugh fell into a painful smile, his face filled with grief, and tears spilled off his cheek. He slid from the bed to the floor, pulled his knees to his chest, and began to sob into his hands.
Tears began to fill Sadie's eyes. “Oh, I don't want to make him cry.”
Candy let go of Sadie's hand and walked over to Happy and began to stroke his shoulder. “Please don't cry, Mister. Please don't cry,” she pleaded.
Dr. Graham moved quickly to the child's side, gently separating her from Happy. After a few moments, Happy raised his head and spoke calmly to the little girl. “Alicia? Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”
The sound of his voice came as such a shock to Sadie and Dr. Graham that they both froze like statues, suspended in time. Sadie's eyes began to tear as she whispered to herself, “It
worked…it worked…it worked.”
Still stunned, Dr. Graham shifted Candy behind her, motioned for Sadie to take charge of the child, then said, “It sure did.”
Charlie could hear Sadie and Candy coming down the hall and rose to meet them. “That didn't take long,” he said.
As Candy headed for her mother's lap, Sadie fell against Charlie's chest and sobbed. When she'd had a good cry, Charlie handed her his handkerchief and they sat down.
“Charlie, it worked,” she said. “He thought Candy was his little girl. I guess something happened to her. I think she may be dead.” Sadie let out a deep breath.
“Did he remember anything else?” asked Charlie.
“Oh, I don't know. The doctor asked us to leave while she talked to him.” Sadie then turned to Charlie and asked, “Did you know they have been gradually taking him off of all his medication because they can't keep him here any longer? And if we had come a few weeks ago, he might not have responded because of the medication?”
“Oh?” Charlie tried to look surprised.
“The doctor told me about it while we were walking to his room. She said they can only keep them so long and his time was running out. They are going to stick him back out on the street and let him fend for himself again…now that the FBI doesn't want him anymore.”
Charlie was well aware of the state hospital's policy on patients like Happy. If they were not a danger to themselves or anyone else, they just turned them out on the street. Then, when they got in trouble, they ended up in jail.
“So, did he know his name?” asked Charlie.
“I don't know. But he knew his little girl's name was Alicia.”
Dr. Graham walked up to Sadie and offered her hand. “Congratulations. It looks like we've had a major breakthrough with your friend,” she said.
“Can we ask him some questions?” asked Charlie.
“No, I think he's had enough excitement for one day. I'd like to spend some time with him first. If you want to check back with me in a few days, I'll let you know where we are.” Dr. Graham then turned and disappeared down the hall.
Unaware of the whole situation, Candy amused herself by dismantling a magazine. Christine's eyes looked like they were propped open with invisible toothpicks. “So, do I get something extra for this ‘breakthrough’?” she asked.
Sadie started to speak, but Charlie broke in: “No. Let's go home.”
Chapter 20
Two weeks later, Charlie found himself once again using his own time to make a trip to the state hospital in Vinita. Only this time he would be picking up a passenger. After a lengthy discussion with Dr. Graham, Charlie had agreed to pick up the homeless man the FBI had tagged John Doe and left there almost eight months ago. Since that time, John Doe had silently answered to the names of Happy and Rob, neither of which came close to his real name—Jules Hebert.
“He pronounces it like A-bare,” the doctor had told Charlie and then added in the same breath, “Do you suppose he's part French?”
“Does it matter?” asked Charlie.
“Well, no. I guess not,” she said. “It's just that I assumed he was Afro-American.”
Charlie had no idea where Jules Hebert or his name came from and so indicated with dead silence. The doctor continued.
“You know the hospital can't keep him any longer,” she said. “And now that he has regained a limited ability to speak I think he'll be fine. Keep in mind, he's not at a hundred percent yet. It's going to take some time. My main concern at this point is how he's going to stay out of the elements, you know, where he's going to live during the next few months. The weather in January and February can be mild in Oklahoma, but it can also turn brutal with a mere shift in the wind. You know that.”
Charlie had agreed with the doctor and offered to transport Jules Hebert to the Sycamore Springs Shelter of Grace, where he could stay warm while he continued to progress. Charlie even offered to keep an eye on him, and be available to take him back to see the doctor, if needed. All this because he had an ulterior motive. He knew it would take a few days of bureaucratic paperwork for the FBI to catch up and he wanted to have first crack at questioning Jules. Mainly, Charlie wanted to know if he could remember anything about the sweatshirt that he was wearing when he was arrested. Not to mention the dye pack the agents found in the cheery little box he called home.
Last, out of curiosity Charlie wanted to know why no one had been looking for Jules Hebert. Everybody has to have a someone who cares, Charlie thought.
When the clean-shaven man got into Charlie's truck, Charlie almost didn't recognize him. All except for the far-off look in his eyes, Jules looked like a different person. He wore a new pair of jeans and sneakers, along with a starched blue-denim shirt—all courtesy of Dr. Graham, he found out later. Before they started their journey to Sycamore Springs, Charlie reached across the seat and offered Jules his hand. Jules looked at the outstretched hand for a minute as if trying to decide what to do. Finally, he shook hands with Charlie and laughed. After a few minutes of riding quietly, he began to talk. “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you going to take me back to jail?”
“Name's Charlie McCord. I'm a police officer and I'm here to help you.”
“Why are you taking me away?” asked Jules.
“I've come to take you back to Sycamore Springs. That's where you were living before you came here to the hospital.”
Jules made a frown, as if thinking made his head hurt.
“Do you remember anything about where you were living before you came here?” asked Charlie.
“Some,” he said.
“Do you remember why you couldn't talk?”
“Just couldn't. It's like somebody flipped a switch and turned off my voice. Didn't want to talk and didn't want to live.” He watched the scenery go by for several miles, then turned to Charlie and said, “Thank you for helping me.”
“Just part of the job,” said Charlie. “If you want to thank someone, you'd better look up Sadie Walela and thank her. She's the one that wouldn't give up on you.”
“Sadie?” Jules looked thoughtfully into the distance. “She's the one who brought me food, isn't she?”
“She not only brought you food, she brought the little girl that got you to talking.”
Jules sat for a moment as if he had difficulty organizing his thoughts before speaking. “I was a dead man,” he said. “For all practical purposes, I was a dead man.”
Charlie drove and listened.
“And then there she was, standing there looking at me. I thought she was Alicia.” Jules put his head down and looked at his hands in his lap. Then he turned and looked at Charlie. “Alicia was my little girl, my little angel. She died. I killed her.”
Charlie frowned. Maybe there was a little more to this character than he first thought. “How'd you kill her?”
“I dropped her doll. I was carrying her across the street. It was raining real hard. Put her down on the sidewalk and before I knew it she ran back into the street for her doll. The woman that hit her never had a chance to even touch the brakes.” Jules looked forward again and watched the road as it slowly curled around the foothills of the Ozarks. Tears rolled down his cheeks and spilled onto his new shirt.
Charlie shifted in his seat trying to find an easy spot. Finally, Jules began to speak again.
“I ran into the street and picked her up. I fell on my knees and asked God to bring her back to me. But I guess He couldn't. When they took her away from me and buried her in the ground, I swore I'd never talk again. And sure enough, it was just like God took my words away. I think it was punishment for what I did. I wanted to die.”
“When did all this happen?”
“I don't really know.” Jules shook his head. “Lost track of time. I guess a part of me really did die.”
“What about her mother?” asked Charlie. “Where was she?”
“I don't rightly know. She took off. She called me a murderer. I don't know where she went.”
>
The two rode in silence for a few miles. Charlie couldn't remember any accidents in the area that fit with Jules's story. Finally, Charlie's desire for more information surfaced. “Where did all this happen?”
“Chalmette.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Chalmette, Louisiana.” Jules's pronunciation of Louisiana reminded Charlie of a Cajun friend and he grinned.
“So, that's where you got your French name.”
“Yes, sir.” Jules's face brightened. “My momma said my daddy was the handsomest black French man in the state. I never knew him, but at least he gave me his name. My momma was a proud woman, came from someplace in Oklahoma. She told me we were black Indians. Our ancestors lived with the Seminole Indians. They called us ‘freedmen.’ She said we was part of their tribe. But I never quite understood that. She's been dead for years, since I was a teenager. Maybe I was trying to reconnect with some of my momma's people by coming north.”
“Maybe,” said Charlie.
“I caught a ride with a truck driver in New Orleans. After a couple hundred miles he decided I was crazy. Dumped me out on the other side of the state line in Arkansas, just before he headed into Missouri to unload. I hitchhiked until I found Sycamore Springs and was too tired to go on any farther. Found me a warm place to sleep in back of the big Wal-Mart store. I guess you know the rest.”
“Not exactly,” said Charlie. “How did you get mixed up with this bank robbery business? And, end up with some of the goods? And, get yourself arrested?”
Jules leaned back and slid down in the seat. “I never robbed no bank,” he stated defensively.
“I never said you did,” Charlie retorted. “But you're the one who was wearing the dude's sweatshirt and sleeping with the dye pack.”
Deception on All Accounts Page 18
