Authors: Rangeley Wallace
Tags: #murder, #american south, #courtroom, #family secrets, #civil rights
“It’s a mistake, Mother. Some horrible
mistake. I begged Ben to ignore it and get on with his book, but he
won’t.”
“He also talked to Berta Waddy this
morning.”
“He told you that?” I swiveled back and
forth in my desk chair as feelings of helplessness and dread
mushroomed inside me.
“No, Berta called me.”
“Why would
she
call
you
?”
“Because your father’s name came up when Ben
talked to her. She called here to speak with Newell, but he’s at
the club playing golf, so she told me. And-”
“Wait! What did you tell Ben?” I
interrupted.
“I told him I thought I should talk to you
first.”
“Why? I don’t know anything about any of
this!” I must have yelled, because I saw Estelle, who was in the
front dining room, look up at me, curious. I closed my office
door.
“Maybe you should come over here,” Mother
said. “You sound upset.”
“And you sound fine for some reason. Does
Daddy know Ben’s talking to half the world about this, spreading
lies everywhere?”
“I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway. It won’t
be long now; you know Berta.”
“Can you stop a reporter from investigating?
There must be something we can do. We can’t allow him to-”
“LuAnn, your father was questioned by the
FBI,” Mother interrupted me, in an urgent burst of words. “He was a
suspect.”
“You have finally gone too far, Mother. Are
you crazy?” I turned my chair around until I faced the empty back
dining room so that the customers in the front dining room couldn’t
see my undoubtedly distraught face. “Why would you say such a
horrible thing?” I asked, then I hung up the phone.
I dialed Ben’s number. He was the one
causing all this pain. He was to blame. His line was busy. I tried
again. Busy again. Every time I heard a busy signal, I dialed
again. My breath accelerated with each attempt, as if the physical
action of turning the dial was more than I could bear. Finally, his
phone rang.
“How dare you talk to my mother!” I demanded
when he said hello. My voice was shaking.
“What’s the matter, LuAnn?” he asked.
“You have to stop this, now, before it
spreads any further. Talking to Berta Waddy, you might as well be
talking to Channel Six.”
“I won’t be able to see you again, you
know.”
“I think you could if you wanted to. I
haven’t done anything unreasonable. You, however, are not behaving
rationally.”
“Everything you’re doing is
unreasonable!”
“I tried to reach your father, but I haven’t
been able to, so I talked to two other people, LuAnn. Only two.
It’s not exactly on the television news.”
“Yet! Do you even care about what I say,
Ben? Do you care at all? Or have I been just a distraction for you,
someone to fill up your time while you were away from home?”
“You know that’s not true. I care very much
about you, too much probably, but I have to go ahead with this. The
paper just called. They’ve assigned someone in Washington to pursue
the leads on that end. If your dad would just cooperate, I’m sure
we could resolve this right away.”
“Since you believe that, why not stop the
whole thing right now?”
“Don’t be so mad at me, LuAnn. This is not
something I have any control over. You know this has nothing to do
with you and me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I miss you already,” he said, gently.
“Get used to it,” I said, and I slammed down
the phone.
Without thinking, I picked up the Tallagumsa
phone book. On the front was a photograph of a large sailboat
gliding across Clark Lake. I turned to C and ran my finger down the
page to “Cox, Barbara.”
After Mother and Jane saw Eddie and Barbara
in her car together, raising the possibility of a relationship
between them, the idea had slowly worried its way into my
consciousness. Although I didn’t want to admit I was interested, I
suddenly needed to know whether Eddie was staying there. I didn’t
think ahead to what I would do if he were. I didn’t think at all. I
simply needed to know that minute. I dialed Barbara Cox’s number
from my office.
The phone rang four times, then it was
answered.
“Hello,” Eddie said.
I hung up, crying.
Less than twenty-four hours earlier, I had
been on top of the world. Now my world was spinning out of control
at an unbelievable rate of speed, leaving me confused and shaken. I
fumbled around and got my things together. The only place where I
might be able to find some respite was at home. There I could rock
the twins, hold them tight, and try to lose myself in their warmth
and sweetness. Or I could cry my heart out with them and they’d
never have a clue. Although I would have to pretend all was well
with Jessie, who was having enough problems adjusting to her
father’s absence without seeing me fall apart, taking a walk or
playing with her and seeing her original child’s response to the
world couldn’t help but jolt me out of my misery.
I was on my way down my office steps when
Jane came marching through the front doors of the Steak House and
up the hall toward me. Even before she spoke I knew something was
wrong. Jane never came into town in pants, but here she was wearing
orange cotton pants, a maternity top smudged with dirt, and loafers
without stockings. We met at the bottom of the steps.
“Mother’s at home crying her heart out
because of the way you talked to her, LuAnn,” Jane said sternly.
“You treat her like a distant cousin. She’s your mother!”
“She shouldn’t say those things about
Daddy,” I said.
“Would you just listen to me for one minute,
LuAnn? Daddy was questioned by the FBI. Don’t look at me like that!
Someone told the FBI he was involved, and two FBI agents came to
our house and questioned him. I was at home. I saw them.” She made
her accusations quietly, almost in a whisper.
I looked at her in amazement. Why would
she
lie about this? “Let’s go upstairs,” I said.
I led Jane up the stairs, then down the hall
to the last dining room. Nothing was scheduled for the upstairs
dining rooms all afternoon or evening, so they were dark and empty.
I flicked on one of the light switches but left the other three
switches off Jane sat in a chair while I paced.
“But why didn’t I know?” I demanded. “Why
didn’t I know anything about any of this?” I was frantic. Although
the Steak House wasn’t cold, a chill gripped me, and I wrapped my
arms tightly around my chest.
“You were twelve years old, a child,” Jane
said. “There was no reason to upset you if the investigation didn’t
go any further. That was a very unhappy time in our lives. Lucky
for you, you had no idea what all was going on. Then the excitement
died down and it was like nothing ever happened.”
“But something horrible did happen. Two
people were killed and Daddy was questioned. I can’t believe this.
Didn’t people think it was a little strange when I organized the
memorial for Jimmy and Leon? I’m surprised someone in town didn’t
point out that the daughter of a suspect had some nerve raising
money for a memorial,” I said.
“No one else knew about any of it, LuAnn,”
Jane said.
“How could no one know?” I asked.
Jane scowled, sat on the floor, pushed her
loafers off, and leaned against the wall. “I can’t get
comfortable,” she said, shifting her weight, trying different
positions. “I don’t see how you could ever sit down, pregnant with
twins.”
“Lie down on your left side,” I
suggested.
She did, resting her head on her left
hand.
I sat down on the floor a few feet in front
of her. “It’s impossible to keep a secret in this town,” I
said.
“Everyone has secrets, even here,” she said.
“No one knew the FBI was in town except a few people. It was all
hush-hush.”
“What did Daddy tell the FBI?”
“I wasn’t in the room when they talked, but
he told me afterward that he’d said he wasn’t involved.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Oh, and I heard him laugh when
they came to the door. They said something, and then he laughed,
sort of a nervous laugh.”
“Why? Why would he laugh?”
“He didn’t ever explain it to me.”
“And you never found out? Didn’t you ask
him? You must have wanted to know,” I insisted.
“Yes, I asked him.”
“And what did he say?”
“That there was nothing to worry about.”
Sitting up, she reached her left hand behind her neck and massaged
the area.
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask him what the FBI said to him?
And what he said? What it was all about?”
“Yes, yes, yes. He acted exasperated, you
know how he does, and he said, ‘I told you. Everything’s fine.
Don’t worry.’”
“You should have made him explain everything
to you.”
“That’s real easy for you to say, LuAnn.
You’ve never had to ask him to do anything he didn’t already want
to do. He’s a very stubborn, selfish man. It’s not worth it, making
demands on him, believe me.”
“I don’t agree with you, but ... you don’t
think he was involved, do you?”
“We weren’t ever close the way the two of
you are, but no, I don’t think he killed anyone. Back then, though,
I hated him enough to hope he was the murderer, to wish they’d lock
him up forever and throw away the key.”
“Jane! How can you talk like that?”
“I was very angry at him.”
“But why?”
“My life hasn’t been the fairy tale yours
has been, LuAnn, especially when I was a teenager. You always had
everything you wanted: You were blessed with beauty and brains, you
were head cheerleader and homecoming queen, you had Junior. And
Daddy adored you. He still adores you. I didn’t have any of that.
We had a lot of problems; you can’t even imagine some of them.”
Jane’s eyes teared up.
“Like what?” I asked.
“That’s all over and done with.” She sighed
and looked past i me into the dark end of the dining room. “It’s
Buck I’m worried about now, not me. If all this gets out it’s going
to kill him. He’s devoted his career, his life, to Daddy. He
worships him.”
“You haven’t told Buck yet?”
“I’m hoping Ben will stop his investigation,
that the whole thing will disappear,” Jane said. “It did once.”
“Me too,” I said. “God, I hope it does.”
That afternoon, after a brief visit home and
a few much needed hugs from the kids, I watched from my office as
my father came in and joined his friends for coffee. His
shirtsleeves were rolled up and his tie was loosened a bit,
concessions to the heat. I was relieved to see him, happy to hear
his voice. There was just no way I could connect what the FBI
documents said about him with the man I and so many others knew and
loved.
When he stood up to leave the Steak House
after twenty-five minutes with the Coffee Club, I rushed down out
of my office and met him at the table. “Are you okay, Daddy?” I
asked.
“Never felt better,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to run a few errands,” he said.
“Then get back to the office.”
“Can I tag along with you? I need a
break.”
“Sure, but don’t you have work to do?” He
took one last swig of his coffee and set some change on the
table.
“Not much.” I linked my arm through his. We
left the Steak House and began walking down the street. “Where to?”
I asked.
“Harold’s Gun Shop and Jerry’s Barber
Shop.”
“What do you need at Harold’s?” I asked.
“Some shells. I’m going to kill me a
reporter.”
“Daddy!”
“A little joke,” he said. But he didn’t
laugh.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go in the gun
shop.”
“And just why not?”
“It might make things look worse.”
“Things! You call what your harebrained
friend is running around saying ‘things’! Your choice in men sure
leaves a lot to be desired.”
He gave me a withering look. I had seen the
look before, but never directed toward me. All the kindness I was
used to seeing had been snatched out of his eyes, and I turned
away, feeling as though he’d hit me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, softening a
little, “even though I know you’d be the first to point the finger
if it weren’t your old dad we were talking about. Right?”
“But it is you.”
“Did you even try to stop Ben, like I told
you?” he asked. “Did you, LuAnn?”
“Yes, I did. I swear. He just can’t.”
“You mean he won’t. Nosy bastard.”
“He’s not. It’s his job, Daddy.”
“He gets paid to be a nosy bastard
then.”
A few blocks from the Steak House he stopped
in front of the portable plastic sign outside Harold’s Gun Shop.
Christmas colored bulbs decorated the perimeter of the sign, which
advertised “Handguns, Rifles, Shotguns, Black Powder, Hunting
Apparel, and Knives.”
“Are you coming inside with me?” he
asked.
“I’ve never been in there,” I said. “Maybe
you shouldn’t go either. What if Ben sees?”
He shook his head, disgusted. “Don’t start
telling me what to do, LuAnn!”
He walked in. I followed.
Harold was behind a glass-counter case full
of handguns. Behind him, rifles lined the wall. “Afternoon, Mayor,
LuAnn,” he said.
I wanted to tell Daddy not to smile at
Harold, not to shake his hand, that it might look like there was
something suspicious between them. Just being in the gun shop made
me feel dirty.
Why
wasn’t my father more sensitive? I stood
off to the side, by camouflage clothes.
“We’ve got snakes all over at the lake,
Harold. Two boxes of number-five shot shells should do the trick,”
my father said. “I need a new hunting hat too. Mine’s falling
apart.”
“They’re right over there, near where
LuAnn’s standing,” Harold said.
Daddy picked out a hat and put it on the
counter.