From where I stood, I could see Frank gently ease Frannie into a booth as she awarded him with her most simpering smile. Frank patted the back of her hand and was back in a moment with a steaming cup of coffee and a slice of pie. I could only hope the officers who arrived would listen to me.
Soon, I heard a siren pulling close, tires crunching the gravel as it came to a stop. The car door slammed and another vehicle arrived – this one at a faster speed, throwing little rocks into the side of the other as it screeched to a halt.
Two deputies walked in the door. The older one’s pot belly proceeded him. The younger had a trim, fit appearance but his left hand was missing the middle three fingers, explaining why he was here and not in the armed services.
The older man asked, ‘Clay, we’ll take over now. Lower the shotgun. What’s the trouble here?’
‘It seems like this here woman,’ he said gesturing toward me, ‘kidnapped that woman over there in the booth and then beat her up in the ladies’ room. Here’s the gun I took from this one.’
As the deputies looked over to the booth, Frannie smiled sweetly and lowered her eyes. The older man, looking at me, ordered the younger, ‘Snap the bracelets on that one.’
‘Sir,’ I objected. ‘You are making a big mistake. That woman is wanted by the military for a crime she committed. You need to call Lieutenant Colonel Crenshaw at the Clinton Engineer Works near Knoxville.’
He snorted in response and added, ‘I know we’re in a war and all, lady, but the military has no say so in civilian affairs. Since neither of you are in uniform, I’ll be calling the shots here. And I’m going to be taking you in to the jail for a nice conversation.’
I didn’t know what I could say in my defense. I certainly couldn’t share information about the facility or our work and if I said she was a spy, it would raise even more questions.
Turning to Frannie, he said, ‘Ma’am, we have an ambulance on the way to tend to your injuries.’
‘Sir, I just need to get out of here. My mother is sickly – in fact, she’s on her deathbed. I was rushing home in hopes of saying goodbye.’ She exhaled a jagged breath and patted her eyes with a paper napkin. ‘Please just let me go, please let me see her before she’s gone. I promise, I’ll come back after the funeral and sign any papers you want, just please let me see Mama.’
I rolled my eyes – not that anyone noticed.
‘Yes, ma’am, you certainly may. Just don’t forget to stop by on your way back and take care of the paperwork. We can hold her until you do. We’ll just need your name and contact information.’
‘I’m Libby Clark and I do need my keys to drive the car. Can you get them from that woman, please?’
‘What? She is not! I’m Libby Clark. Do not let her leave here, you are making a big mistake.’
The younger deputy jerked on my cuffs and growled into my ear, ‘Where are the keys, lady?’
I refused to answer and he ran his hands up and down my body until he found the right pocket and pulled them out. He tossed them to the other man who handed them to Frannie.
She started to leave but turned back and said, ‘Deputy, sir, you’d best do as she says and call Lieutenant Colonel Crenshaw. Let him know you captured Frannie Snowden. He’ll probably give you a commendation.’
‘She’s lying, sir. She’s very good at that,’ I protested.
The deputy holding onto my handcuffs, twitched them again, sending sharp shooting pain into my shoulders. ‘Shut up, lady.’
Frank left the cash register to escort Frannie outside. When he came back in, he was holding Frannie’s purse dangling from his fingerprints. Handing it to the older deputy, he said, ‘Miss Clark said that this belongs to that woman.’
The deputy held it up. ‘Do you recognize this?’
‘Yes, I do. It belongs to Frannie Snowden who is driving off in my car right now.’
He opened up the handbag and peered inside before pulling out a big bundle of cash. ‘Oh, yes, this pocketbook with all this money inside of it, belongs to the woman we let go and out of the goodness of her heart she left it all for you.’
‘I’ve never seen that money before,’ I said.
‘Uh, deputy,’ Frank interrupted, ‘Miss Clark told me that the Snowden woman stole all her traveling money, so I pulled a few bills out of that wad and gave it to her so she could get to her mama’s.’
‘Sounds like justice to me, Frank. Don’t worry about it.’ He held the handbag upside down over the surface, dumping the contents in a messy pile on the table. ‘Looks like a serious amount of cash,’ he said as he picked up the bundle, sorted it into stacks of one hundred, fifty, twenty and ten dollar bills. He counted off one stack at a time. ‘Merciful heavens, lady, you’ve got nearly ten thousand dollars in here. You planning on leaving the country or something?’
‘I am not Frannie Snowden. I have never had that much money in my life.’
‘Right, and that little lady you beat up, she doesn’t look like the type to be carrying around that much pin money. And what else do we have in here?’ he said continuing his search of Frannie’s purse. ‘Oh look! An identification badge for Frannie Snowden. You can stop your denials now, Miss Snowden. We know who you are. And we’re taking you in. We’ll call the army when we get back to the station and see what that Lieutenant Colonel has to say about you. I imagine he’ll tell me you’ve been a very bad girl.’
I almost admired Frannie’s ability. The dumb girl camouflage was immaculate cover for a clever, nasty woman. From the wad in her purse, it’s obvious she was involved in espionage out of greed. And yet, she was willing to toss away all that money to make me look guilty and give her time to get away before the army arrived. I was certain that she would – her head start would ensure that. If Frannie stayed on Route 40, she’d be past Memphis and into Arkansas before Crenshaw could get here. And if she didn’t stick to that highway, heaven only knows where she could go. There was no sense arguing any longer. I could only hope that Crenshaw made the trip personally before my restrained arms were jerked out of their sockets.
FORTY-THREE
At the sheriff’s office, I was led to the older officer’s room, whom I saw from the sign on his door was Deputy Chief Arlo Steubens. The younger man shoved me down in a wooden chair as Steubens picked up the phone. After he was transferred multiple times, he was finally connected to Crenshaw. ‘Hello, sir. This is Deputy Chief Steubens from the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department. I understand you are looking for one Frannie Snowden.’
‘This is Libby Clark, Crenshaw! They let Frannie get away!’ I shouted.
‘What? Oh, that’s just the Snowden woman who keeps screaming about her innocence.’ He put his hand over the receiver and said, ‘You don’t shut up, I’ll get the deputy to gag you.’ Speaking again in the phone, he said, ‘Yes, sir. Seems like the Snowden woman kidnapped Libby Clark and beat her up in the ladies’ room.’
After a pause, Steubens continued, ‘I’m sorry, sir. I let Miss Clark depart. She was in a mighty big hurry to get to her sick mama.’
Listening to the conversation at the other end, I could see Steubens puff and get red-faced. ‘I’m not in the military, sir. And you can’t order me about. I had no way of knowing you needed to speak to Miss Clark and I will not cease my questioning of Snowden. She has been arrested for an assault in my jurisdiction and it’s my responsibility. You want to come up here, she’ll still be here. But don’t try to tell me how to do my job.’ He slammed the phone down and turned to me. ‘Well, he’s a prickly so-and-so. I sure wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.’ To the deputy he added, ‘Get her out of here.’
The deputy led me rapidly down a flight of stairs where my stumbling resulted in being dragged for a couple of steps before I could get my feet back under me. The deputy pushed through an entryway into a tiny room with bars on the front and sweaty concrete blocks on the other three sides. A metal platform jutted out from a side wall with a piece of plywood on top of it. I surmised that was my bed
and stretched out on it, too tired to do anything but fall asleep.
I was jarred awake by Steubens hitting the platform several times with his billy club, making my ears ring as the sound echoed in the small space.
‘Sit up!’ he ordered. ‘Why did you attack that woman?’
‘She was holding me captive and I was trying to escape.’
‘Stop lying!’ he said whacking the club against the wall beside my head.
I felt bile surging into my throat. The combination of fear and lack of sleep was churning up my stomach. I swallowed quickly to get it under control.
‘Now, answer my question. The truth this time.’
‘What do you want me to say?’ I asked.
‘I want you to tell me the truth.’
I sighed. ‘Frannie Snowden was holding me captive and I was trying to escape from her when I was stopped by that man with a shotgun.’
‘We’ll see how you feel an hour from now when everyone else is being served breakfast and you don’t even get a glass of water.’
I didn’t stop to think about what he said. I simply laid back on my ersatz bed and fell back asleep. I was woken by the clatter of a wheeled cart rolling down the hallway. My stomach rumbled and my tongue adhered to the roof of my mouth as the trolley went by without stopping at my cell. I reclined again but didn’t have time to drift. Steubens was back, banging on the metal bars of my cell this time.
‘Wake up, lady. Getting hungry? Thirsty? Sorry, but until you tell me the truth, you get nothing. Now, once again: why did you attack that woman?’
Unless I was willing to confess to sins I did not commit – and he hadn’t pushed me that far yet – I had nothing to say. I closed my eyes and turned my back to him. I heard the jangle of keys and the wrenching of metal as the door swung back. I felt a hard jab go into my side and flinched.
He grabbed my uppermost arm and jerked me to my feet. He thrust his face into mine and screamed, ‘I want an answer and I want it now.’
‘She was holding me captive at gunpoint …’
He shoved me back on the platform with enough force that the back of my head hit the concrete wall, which, in turn, reawakened my nausea.
Just then, I heard Crenshaw’s voice from a distance. I thought, at first, that I was imagining it. When I realized that the sound was heading in my general direction, I jumped up, grabbed the bars and shouted, ‘Lieutenant Colonel! Crenshaw! Down here.’
In no time, Crenshaw was at my cell with a swarm of uniforms at his back. ‘Miss Clark? What are you doing in here?’
‘Ask him,’ I said, nodding toward Steubens.
‘Well, sir,’ Crenshaw barked. ‘What is your excuse for this travesty?’
Steuben’s mouth hung open for a moment, then he shut it and said, ‘That’s Libby Clark?’
‘It most certainly is. Get her out of there immediately. And where is Frannie Snowden?’
‘I thought she was Libby Clark.’
‘I don’t want your excuses. I want answers. Where is she?’
Steubens looked too sick to respond. The younger deputy stepped up and said, ‘She’s gone, sir.’
‘Gone? You let a spy escape. You locked up an important scientist and let that secret agent escape? Where did she go?’
‘She headed west on Highway 40, sir.’
‘You idiots! If Miss Clark were going to see her mother, she would have gone east. Are you working for the enemy here?’
Steubens finally perked up enough to respond. ‘No sir. This is a big misunderstanding. We’re all patriots here, sir.’
‘You don’t act like patriots.’
As much as Steubens aggravated me, I came to his defense. ‘Sir, Frannie tricked them. As you and I know too well, she is very good at that. She engineered Marvin’s murder and she’d been deceiving him since before she was old enough to start school.’ Crenshaw spun around and addressed one of his men. ‘Go out to your jeep and send out an alert with a description of Snowden and of Miss Clark’s car. And spread the net in all directions. She could have doubled-back or turned off the highway anywhere. Come with me, Miss Clark, one of my men will take you by the emergency room to have you checked out before taking you back home.’
Crenshaw stepped up to Steubens nearly stopping on top of his feet. His finger flashed out and poked the deputy chief in the chest. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’
The younger deputy stepped up and said, ‘Sir, we had no way of knowing.’
‘You, too,’ Crenshaw snapped. ‘I will deal with you as well. And with anyone else who laid a hand on Miss Clark.’
I had to admit, I certainly appreciated that exchange. I stifled the grin that threatened to spread across my face.
FORTY-FOUR
I didn’t think I needed to visit the emergency room, but Corporal Grant, who was given the responsibility for my transport, had his orders and that was one of them. The doctor looked me over and found no broken bones to set and no injuries needing stitches. He seemed a bit disappointed but got some consolation counting up the bruises and lacerations. I didn’t remember the exact number, but they were numerous. He did say he was moderately worried about a concussion because of the injury to my skull. I ran my fingers over the tender, protruding goose egg on the back of my head – no wonder I felt off-kilter.
The doctor walked out of the examination area with me to speak to the corporal. He ran through a list of the warning signs of concussion and Grant said he would keep a close eye on me.
For a little while on the drive back, the corporal and I tried a little chit-chat but it didn’t last long. He was from Chicago and all I’d seen of that city was the train station and the sights visible from the tracks. He’d never been to Virginia or Pennsylvania in his life and, in fact, had never been south of the Illinois state capital in Springfield before he joined the army. To make things worse, he hated chemistry, physics and math and I knew nothing about his work before the war, automotive repair. I did promise, though, to save him a dance the next time we gathered to make it a night in the cafeteria.
I drifted off and woke up when I realized the car wasn’t moving. ‘Where are we?’
‘At a diner, Miss Clark. After I couldn’t wake you up, I thought it might be a good idea to stop for breakfast and make sure you got something to eat and a hot cup of coffee.’
‘I’d love some coffee but even if you pour a gallon of the stuff in me, I won’t be able to stay awake.’
‘Ma’am, the doctor said you had to stay awake.’
‘Then before we leave, you best wire up an electric circuit in my seat so you can give me a charge from time to time. At best, I had one and a half hours of sleep in that nasty cell and the day before started more than twenty-four hours ago – and it hasn’t exactly been one filled with lazy bliss.’
‘Ma’am, I have my orders.’
‘They’re not orders,’ I snapped. ‘The doctor said that. Not Crenshaw.’ When I saw the chagrin on his face, I backed off. ‘Sorry, Corporal. I’m exhausted and it’s making me testy. Let’s go in.’
I was so tired that I didn’t know if I had the energy to chew but the aroma of toast and sizzling bacon roused me. Three sunny-side up eggs, a side of sausage, a few slices of bacon, a helping of home fries and four biscuits lathered with butter and jam later, I finally pushed back from the table.
‘That was impressive, ma’am. Never saw a lady put it away like that. But you did say you were raised on a farm, I guess that answers it.’
‘I do have a healthy appetite, Corporal, but this morning, I surpassed myself. I imagine my Aunt Dorothy would be appalled.’
‘Not your mother?’
‘Don’t think she’s that much of a hypocrite. You see, right now, she’s sitting in jail charged with murder – not exactly a suitable place for a one-time belle of the ball.’ I was surprised at my openness. I didn’t know whether to blame it on fatigue, the traumatic series of events of the day, or perhaps, I was simply rebelling against the straitjacket of secrecy t
hat accompanied my work. Probably a combination of the three but I certainly was sick of lies and deception.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. But … never mind …’
‘What? You want to know if she did it? Because she did. She admitted as much. To me. To her lawyer. Even to the detectives. No doubt she’ll go to prison. The only question is for how long.’
‘Who … I mean … never mind …’
‘Oh, please, Corporal, ask away. Unless it has to do with my work, I have nothing to hide. Just pay the waitress and let’s head on home. I’ll tell you more along the way.’
The sad saga of life at my birthplace from the death of my dad to the death of my stepdad filled a long stretch of the drive back. From the outset, Corporal Grant, who asked me to call him Sammy by the time I ended the story, demonstrated a remarkable amount of empathy for the situation which kept me talking until I told him more than I had planned. When I wrapped up, he said, ‘Ma’am, that is a tragedy and I don’t blame your mother one little bit.’
‘You don’t?’
‘I wish my mother was that protective of me. My dad knocked me around a lot while I was growing up and all she wanted to do was advise me on how not to get him angry. But no matter what I tried, he’d smack me for any reason or none at all. Honestly, Miss Clark, I’ve come to believe that some men just deserve killing.’
I said nothing but had to admit to myself that if any man deserved to die for bullying and abusing his family, Ernest was high on the list. I wondered if my mother had weighed the positives and negatives before pulling the trigger or just acted out of a primitive, violent instinct.
When we were inside the gates of our home away from home, I thought about going straight to Y-12. Part of me wanted to update everyone and catch up on my work, but the rest of me cringed at the thought of walking through the lab door. All I really wanted was some sleep in my own bed. I turned down Sammy’s suggestion of a stop in the cafeteria for lunch first and had him drop me at my flattop.
G.G. rocketed into the living room as soon as I stepped inside. He danced around on his tippy-toes and flopped down on his head. After giving him the physical affection he craved, I went into the kitchen to get him some food. There, I found a note from Jessie who wrote that she stopped by before her shift to play with G.G. and make sure he had food and water and she’d be back in the evening to check on him again. How, in heaven’s name, did she know I was away? I didn’t know it until it happened.
Treason in the Secret City Page 22
