“He’s been living in the mountains, with no schooling since he was fifteen. When you have to worry about survival, I guess literacy takes a back burner. Beside, Geneva, you know we used to talk like that, bad grammar and all even though we knew better. Remember?”
“I suppose so,” sighed Geneva, remembering her first diction classes and how difficult they had been. “Hit’s easy to git above yer raisin’, ain’t it?”
“Hit shore is, honey. And the worst part of it is that sometimes when you do, you lose sight of some pretty important things.” She looked at Geneva holding Lenora in her arms. “I don’t think you should go back to DC, Geneva. I don’t think you’ll be happy with Howard. These mountains are in your blood, and if you keep away from them for too long, you’ll die of anemia. Some people might be able to live in concrete, but I know I couldn’t, and I don’t think you can, either.”
With a wrench in her chest, Geneva realized that Rachel was probably right. “What do you think I should do? Run off with Howard Knight and help him tend his hemp patch?”
“He may expect it after what you did to him. There’s a pretty strong code of behavior up here, you know.”
Geneva laughed. “I haven’t told you about what I did to John yet.”
“Geneva! What?”
“Oh, nothing, really. Tried to seduce him, but he backed off. I think he may be in love with me.”
“Yes, I know. You could do worse.”
“But not much better, huh?”
“Definitely not.”
Geneva looked at her big sister, radiant and glossy with happiness, and she wished she could be more like her. Her heart filled with affection for the woman who sat beside her, so simple in her desires, so fortified against complexity.
“I love you Rachel,” she said.
“I love you, too, Geneva.” The sound of children’s laughter floated toward them on the warm air, and Geneva let her thoughts float with it, until the ringing phone jolted her out of her reverie. Hoping it might be John, Geneva handed the baby to Rachel to answer it. She was surprised to hear Howard Graves’ voice, terse and anxious.
“Howard! Are you back home already?”
“No, Geneva, I’m not. I am in some town, if you could call it that, by the name of Hutterton. Ever heard of it?”
Geneva pulled the receiver away from her face and queried Rachel. “Ever heard of Hutterton?”
“Yes. It’s a little bitty community east of here. It’s a pretty rough place, I think. Lots of moonshiners, and I think they have a branch of the Klan there. Is Howard there?”
Geneva returned to Howard. “What are you doing in Hutterton? Don’t tell me the car broke down.”
Howard sounded worried. “Did I just hear Rachel say the Klan’s here?”
“Howard, are you in some sort of trouble?”
“I sure am, Geneva. Not only does the local sheriff seem to have a grudge against flatlanders who drive too fast in foreign cars, but somehow they’ve turned up a packet of what may be cocaine. Do you by any chance know anything about a little plastic bag full of whitish powder?”
“Howard! No! They found coke on you?”
“In the floor of the car. I don’t see how they could have planted it. I saw it in the floor about the same time he did. Geneva are you sure you didn’t have something? Anything at all that might look like coke?”
“Of course not, Howard. You know I never touch drugs. I bet it was Jason or Marie. I told you that you shouldn’t to hang out with them!”
“Geneva, neither one of them has been in this car. It’s brand new. I picked it up Saturday, just before I left for your place. And besides, I’m not sure it’s coke. It’s a funny color, although I guess it could be dirty.”
“Well, they can’t hold you if they aren’t sure, can they?”
“Guess again, sweetie. They tell me they’re sending it over to Harrisonburg to have it tested, and until the results get back, they’re acting like they have a drug lord on their hands. I won’t discuss their interrogation methods. They let me talk to a local lawyer, but I’m not too sure about this guy’s credentials. But he talked them into letting me call you. Geneva, can you get up here? Call my attorney in DC. It’s Greg Ford. And bring all the cash you can scrounge up. I don’t know if they’ll let me post bail, but I sure do want out of here.” He sounded more and more nervous as he talked.
“Of course, I’m on my way,” said Geneva. “But Howard, can’t—”
“I gotta go, Geneva,” he said hastily. “My time’s up. Hurry!”
“What is it, Geneva?” demanded Rachel. “You’re as white as a sheet. What’s happened to him?”
“Howard’s been picked up for possession of cocaine, but I know he doesn’t use it.” Suddenly Geneva felt a cold river running down her spine. Howard was wealthy! Howard always drove a fancy car. Howard sometimes went away on business trips and always came back throwing money around. And now he has a brand new Jaguar convertible that he just was going to hand over to her, as if he had money to burn! Oh, God! It couldn’t be! She put a shaking hand to her mouth. Her knees buckled and her head swam.
“Sit down, Geneva,” said Rachel sharply. “What is it?”
“Rachel, do you suppose Howard is involved with drugs? I mean, he has all this money. I always assumed he just earned it or got it from his family or something. I don’t know anything about the investment business.” She sat on the bed and sobbed violently. Her ex-fiancé a drug pusher! Deceiver and murderer of little children! Among the most despicable of the human race! It was too awful to comprehend. And to think, she had almost married him! The thought brought on a fresh torrent of tears.
“Geneva, get hold of yourself. Surely not. I mean, stock market analysts really can make a lot of money. Look at how well your investments have done. Honey, you don’t know all the facts.” But Rachel looked really worried.
“You’re right, I don’t know! I don’t know him! To think, I’ve been in love with a dr-dr-drug lord!” she wailed.
“Hold on. Now just think. What did he ask you to do?”
“He-he s-s-said to bring a lot of c-cash. I guess he hopes to br-bribe them!”
After half an hour of sobbing and wailing, Geneva finally let Rachel persuade her to give Howard the benefit of the doubt and call his attorney. Rachel wrote a check for Geneva to cash in Tucker on her way to Hutterton. She left in Rachel’s car with a very heavy heart.
By the time she reached Hutterton, Geneva was a wreck, vacillating between rage, grief, and fear for him. What if he had been set up? Framed? Geneva knew how these small town sheriffs could decide to have a little “fun” with an arrogant, rich boy. She bet he had smarted off at them when they had stopped them. Howard did have a way of letting people know he considered them his inferior.
But what if he really did have a stash of coke in his car? What if he did make his money in covert drug deals? The very thought made her nauseated, and then she found herself furious at Howard Knight, too. To think she had tossed off the idea that he was raising marijuana to sell to high schoolers, perhaps elementary school children, children not much older than her own beloved nieces. Tossed it off with a smile and a shrug. Be cool. Live and let live. I’m okay, you’re okay. Do what you want. “Hogwash!” she snorted.
It was nearly dusk when she arrived. The courthouse/jail sat in the middle of the one downtown block of Hutterton. It was the only building with the lights on, and the soft glow of these lights tinged the nearly deserted town with pink and gold. The little village seemed a quaint picture nestled among the purple hills.
On the porch of the jailhouse lay a forlorn dog, his head resting between his paws. As Geneva passed him, he lifted his head and whined, but she paid him little attention; her thoughts were absorbed in her fears.
Inside the jail, the picture was no longer quaint. The lights were too bright, loud both to the eye and the ear, for they buzzed with a constant, high-pitched whine. Geneva found them exceptionally annoying the moment she st
epped inside. She couldn’t imagine how Howard had tolerated it since this morning.
The jailhouse/courthouse was a one-room affair, not much different from Andy of Mayberry’s jail: two cells, a gun rack on the wall, and a desk in the corner. But it did not have Aunt Bea’s touch; the place was grimy and unswept. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and there were grease stains on the walls. She glanced at the desk, where a fat, unkempt fellow wearing a deputy’s badge slouched, and then, incredibly, she found herself looking through a set of bars at Jimmy Lee Land, whose mouth had dropped open into an elongated “O.”
Through her shock, she could see his eyes, red and bleary, looking at her with surprise and worshipful awe, which, she realized, was beginning to be his signature expression toward her. Simultaneously, in the other cell, Howard jumped off his cot and ran toward her. He looked indescribably forlorn behind the bars.
“Well, I’ll be damned. She’s adoin’ it agin’!” Jimmy Lee shouted. “How’d ye know I wuz here?”
“It’s about time you got here. Why did it take you so long?” demanded Howard.
Jimmy Lee did not notice Howard addressing her. He turned excitedly toward him. “Hit’s her! Hit’s the one I wuz atellin’ ye about! My little lady what done saved my life! The one I’m acourtin’!”
A look of horror washed over Howard’s face. He stared at Jimmy Lee for a long moment, then cut his eyes toward Geneva.
“Geneva? You know this man?”
“Hell yes! She knows me awright! She’s come to bail me outta here, God bless her soul!” He fairly danced with excitement, grinning at Geneva, then Howard, then at Geneva again, until a puzzled look began to spread over his face. “How come yew ta know her name?” he asked Howard.
Howard groaned and sat down on his cot.
“Jimmy Lee…” began Geneva, but she was interrupted by the unkempt man who was coming toward her.
“Hidy, miss. You here to bail this feller out?”
“Uh…” she said.
“I reckon he’s sober enough to go on home now, but I wouldn’t let him drive fer awhile.” He chuckled amicably at Jimmy Lee. “Got aholt of some bad corn likker, didn’t ye, boy?”
“I sure as hell, did, sir,” grinned Jimmy Lee. “But the sight of this little lady here would sober up a deacon.” He gazed raptly at Geneva, who felt an overwhelming urge to run.
“Well, uh, actually, I…” she began lamely, then stopped herself. “How much to bail him out?”
“Aw, nuthin’. I kin release him in yer custody, if ye drive him on home and make him keep out o’ trouble. Boy jist cain’t hold his likker.” He guffawed. “I’ll tell ye, I’ll be glad ta git him outta here. He’s been runnin’ his mouth bad enough to run us all up a tree. Spent the last four hours ever since he come to atellin’ us about yew. Ye got ye a man here shore loves yew, honey.”
Geneva searched for a chair. She sensed that this was a delicate situation, and she had no idea how to handle it. Glancing at Howard, she realized he would be of no help. He was glaring at her with open hostility. The unkempt fat man unlocked Jimmy Lee’s cell.
She cleared her throat and smiled nervously. Brightly, she said, “Umm, actually, I happen to know that other fella, too. Did he get some bad corn likker, too?” She felt the drawl creeping into her mouth as comfortable as fresh bread, and she dipped her head just enough to look at the man from the corner of her eyes.
He scowled at her. “No ma’am. That there fella’s in a heap o’ trouble. We found a suspicious substance on him, and he ain’t goin’ nowheres til we git to the bottom of it.”
“Oh? I couldn’t bail him out, too?” She turned innocent, wide eyes upon him.
He softened a bit. Shaking his head sadly and importantly, he replied, “No ma’am. This here’s serious business.”
Geneva judged whether or not to press him. He was looking at her sorrowfully. “But what on earth could he have had on him that is so serious? I happen to know that he’s real decent.” She calculated, then ventured a little white lie, “His daddy’s a judge down in Georgia.”
He looked at her incredulously. “He shore don’t talk like he’s from Georgia.”
“Well, his mama’s from New Orleans, I mean, Metarie. You know, they talk like that there.” She laughed a bright, tinkling little laugh. “They all sound like they’re from New Jersey.”
Howard looked at her as if she had lost every ounce of reason. She prayed he would keep his mouth shut, but she wouldn’t have bet on it, for his face held signs of unmitigated rage. Hoping desperately he would keep silent, she turned all her charm upon the fat man, smiling at him as if she felt fortunate to be in his presence. “Could I maybe talk to him for just a little bitty minute?” She expanded her charm to include Jimmy Lee, feeling like she was juggling live hand grenades.
“Jimmy Lee,” she crooned, “Why don’t you go sit in the car? It’s right out front.” She batted her eyelashes at him as she handed him Rachel’s car keys, then turned her most coquettish face toward the deputy. “But don’t you go driving it, now,” she winked. “Yew heard what the man said.”
Jimmy Lee took the keys as if they were a token from his beloved, then collected his belongings and went out. “I’ll wait fer ye, Miss Geneva.”
She turned to the deputy. “Could I? Just talk a little bitty minute to him? Surely there’s some explanation to this, and maybe we can clear it up for yew.”
He wavered, then sighed. “Awright,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward Howard. “But watch yersef. He seems pretty slick ta me.” Turning back to his desk, he took out a Louis Lamour novel and leaned back in his chair, feet propped upon the desk.
Geneva approached the cell with trepidation, fearing not Howard’s anger, but rather for his good sense. He could mess things up really badly if he said the wrong things to her. She pasted a smile on her face and let it freeze into him before she spoke. “Well, Howard,” she said slowly, carefully. “How on earth did yew get yerself into this mess? What did they find on yew?’
His smile was just as plastic. “Well, Geneva,” he echoed mockingly and just as slowly. “I don’t know. All I know is there was some sort of whitish powder in the floor of my car.”
“Your car? I thought it belonged to somebody else. Like your ex-fiancée.” She let her smile broaden, but it became no warmer.
“Of course. My ex-fiancée’s car. I was just keeping it for her until she comes to her senses and comes home with me. But it looks like I may not get out of here before she ups and marries somebody else. Goes and lives in a trailer and keeps a tobacco crop. Names her kids Wiley Bob and Potato Bug. Do you happen to know what my daddy the judge down in Georgia might think about all this? Since he’s an attorney, he surely would have some insight into the situation.”
Geneva caught the hint. He was wondering if she had called his attorney in DC. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know,” she replied carefully, “but I bet he’ll be on his way here as soon as he can, provided no one can bail you out in the meantime. All you have to do is give him a call. You know he’ll drop everthing and come.”
“Well, do you think you might see about getting me out of here? It hasn’t been terribly pleasant, and now that Jimmy Lee’s gone, I won’t have any company.” He narrowed his eyes. “He told me all about how much in love the two of you are, but while he was talking, I had no idea the girl he was discussing was you. I understand you saved his life, and then single-handedly dragged him to a cottage and nursed him back to health, and loved him until he was strong again? All those long days and nights up on a mountain with him must have been pretty romantic. Challenging, but romantic.”
Geneva felt her face go hot, and she did not trust herself to reply to his accusations. She was too angry with him for even pretending to believe them. At last, she said, “Jimmy Lee’s been known to get things confused. We try not to take him too seriously.”
“I see,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “And now that you’ve sprung him, why don’t you see if you
can do the same for me. Then we can all go home and talk over all our exciting times together.”
Geneva glanced at the deputy reading the paperback. She knew there was no way she would be able to bail Howard out. First of all, something told her the deputy had no authority, and secondly, it seemed that he was certain Howard’s crime was serious. Nervously, she turned her smile toward him, then, throwing a stony glance at Howard, she glided across the floor and stood demurely by the desk.
“I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, sir,” she said, turning her bluest eyes upon him, “but I think there must be some kind of terrible mistake. “This man here—,” she indicated Howard, “is about one of the nicest people I know and from a good family. Why, his uncle was a missionary in China until the Communists shot him, and his great uncle on his mama’s side was Huey Long. His daddy just about single-handedly wiped out a notorious drug ring down in Athens, and I’ve known Howard here for years.”
The man looked at her with interest, more impressed by the minute as she manufactured a biography for Howard. Geneva felt her courage rise. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “He’s thinking of becoming a minister.”
The minute she had said it, she knew she had gone too far. The fat man’s eyes narrowed. “He shore didn’t talk like no preacher when I picked him up. Man’s got a smart mouth on him.” He glared at Howard, who glared back. Geneva feigned surprise while she thought of a reply. Howard probably had insulted him in a number of ways; had probably aimed invective at him which implied low intelligence and perhaps sexual perversion. “Howard?” she exclaimed. “Why that really surprises me, sir! Normally he’s a saint. He must be having some—er—personal problems.” She stole a glance at Howard, who smoldered.
The door opened. In walked a very large, red-faced man wearing a sheriff’s uniform and badge. His frame was covered with mounds of flesh, which appeared to Geneva to have made it halfway through the metamorphosis from rock-solid muscle to pure blubber. Her eye fell from massive shoulders and chest to a belly so large and round it overhung his pants and rode absurdly low around his hips. His gun holster, too, was fairly obscured by the overhanging belly. Idly, she wondered if he could possibly be carrying triplets in there.
The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set Page 21
