Only the Truth (15 page)

She shook her head.

"Anyway, they went in and closed the door. I remember looking at the
car they were in and I had no idea whose it was. Kristen didn't have a car and
I was sitting in our car. Rubin had ridden his bicycle to work."

She was silent for about a minute and I wondered if she was sitting in that
lot again in her mind.

"An hour went by and out they came. They got into the unknown car and
drove off. Then I drove home. When I got there, I thought I should have
followed them but I was in such shock at the time, I just wanted to go home and
sleep."

I felt really bad for Mrs. Covey. And I couldn't stand to think of Charlene
with her husband.

"Did you talk to him when he came home?" I asked her.

She smiled thinly. "I never spoke with him again. I never heard him
come home…he obviously did because when I got up in the morning and I went
downstairs, I found a note that said he had to help a 'friend' move. I hadn't
heard about any friend who was doing a major relocation. The whole morning
dragged by with no word from him. Then I heard the news that there was a
terrible fire at the Stoddard house the night before and for a brief moment I
hoped it had consumed Kristen."

She scratched her cheek. "Strange how we can even think such
things." She smoothed her skirt a few times from the middle over her legs and
then tucked it under her.

"At around noon, Chief Williams showed up. He told me the whole family
was dead. Then he told me the parents were found dead in their beds and the
children were dead in their room, two of them just behind the door as though they
were trying to escape the room but were unable to. The baby was just a lump of
coal in its crib. At that point, they hadn't done any autopsies so they didn't
know the mother and father had been shot, but they knew it was arson because
the strength and quickness of the fire told them there was some kind of
accelerant used.

Mrs. Covey stopped and took a breath.

"It didn't occur to me for a number of minutes that it was odd Chief
Williams should be coming to my house to tell me about a fire at someone else's
home. Probably I was so stunned by the recent events I was not processing much
of what was happening to me. But, then he told me what he came to tell me.
Kristen was not among the victims. She was seen around the time of the fire in
the passenger seat of a dark green Falcon heading out of town, a black man
behind the wheel."

A vision of the motel came back into my mind.
The motel
and the parking lot.

"Was that car," I asked slowly, "the car at the motel, was it
a green Falcon?"

Mrs. Covey slowly clapped her hands, once, twice.

"Bravo!" She dropped her hands back into her lap. "Yeah, it
was that very same car. Oh, and it gets worse. Chief Williams handed me a piece
of paper." She got up abruptly and walked to a hutch across the room,
opened the top drawer and pulled out a thin green, almost translucent paper.

"I can't believe I just left it there all this time. I should have
burned it." She made a little snort. "
Here.
"
She gave me the paper.

"I can't read," I told her, surprising myself that I admitted that
so easily to her.

She didn't comment but took the paper and read the words out loud as she ran
her finger just under the bottom of the letters.

"Sold.
1992 Falcon, two
door, green.
$500.
Paid in
full.
Cash.
To Rubin
Covey."

She crossed back to the couch and seated herself.

She looked at me. "And then they were gone."

********************

Mrs. Covey sent me back out to the Chief with sandwiches she made with white
bread, cheese, and bologna. She was a nice lady. Much as she was mad with Chief
Williams for hounding her about her husband's whereabouts and mad at me for
taking up with Charlene, she didn't hold it against us that much.

"I believed in my husband's character for over thirty years," she
told me, "so I guess I can't get all righteous with you for not figuring
out Kristen's true nature in just three." She handed me the bag with the
lunches. "But, now that you are hearing the truth about her from us who
knew her, don't waste any more of your time on that girl. You're a nice man, I
can see you mean well, and you got to realize you are the kind of guy that gets
taken advantage of by people like her."

She gave me a little hug. She could see I wasn't totally convinced.
"I'll be here if you need to come back."

I opened the door to the police cruiser and got in.

"Thanks, Mrs. Covey," I yelled out before I closed the car door.

She waved at me as we pulled away. I placed the sandwiches on the seat
between me and the Chief. "Sandwiches," I told him.

He smiled over at me. "Nice lady."

I was puzzled.

"Then why do you keep bothering her?"

"It's my job, Hutchins. I can't let my liking of the woman keep me from
getting to the bottom of this case. I got a fugitive out there, a dangerous
one, and I have to keep on it until he is brought in."

He glanced over at me.

"So, you and Mrs. Covey have a nice talk?"

"Yes. She told me what happened."

"And?"

I knew what he wanted to hear.

"And I still don't know Rubin Covey."

We pulled into a space right in front of the station where we had gotten to
know each other. I suddenly felt very sleepy. Either being up all night had
caught up with me or I didn't want to deal with any more of the Chief's
interrogation.

"Come on, Hutchins." He grabbed up the sandwich bag and got out of
the car. "I have a nice cell you can take a nap in."

I didn't know whether to thank him or start worrying, but I was too tired to
care.

********************

I must have slept all afternoon because when I woke up in the cell, I was starving
and there was a plate with two of the sandwiches on it. I sat on my cot, ate my
sandwiches, and wondered what to do next. I didn't see anyone around and
wondered if the Chief was going to let me out when I asked him.
And then what?

I got up and stood by the door and look through the bars. I wondered how
Charlene could stand being locked up day after day. Strangely, she had never
complained about being in jail. Maybe she knew she belonged there. Maybe, in
spite of saying she dreamt about me and our home, she could take it or leave
it. Maybe I cared more about us then she ever did.

********************

The bars were cold in my hands. They sent a shiver down my spine. Something
occurred to me that never had before. When the Sheriff took me off to jail,
Charlene didn't say anything. She didn't tell him I hadn't killed the old man.
She didn't say anything until the Sheriff came back with me and she knew he
knew she did it.

I heard a door slam.

"Chief?"
I called out. I tried to see
down the hall but I couldn't see more than four feet down the gray cement wall.

"Chief?"

I heard another door slamming and then Chief Williams face appeared in front
of me and he was putting a key in the cell door. I heard the tumblers click and
the heavy door swung open.

"Come on," he motioned to me and I followed him down the hall.

"Freshen up," he said pointing to a bathroom at the end.
"We're going to church."

"Church?"

"Yeah, wash up. You want answers? This is Kristen's church where her
daddy was a deacon. It's a Saturday night service and there should be a good
bunch of folks showing up that can tell you about Kristen and the family."

I stepped into the bathroom and turned the cold water on. I scrubbed my
hands and washed my face. I hoped I didn't smell.

We walked down the street to the church that was God's home and everyone
else's.

"What happens in the church?" I asked him.

"Happens?
Just a normal service….one hour…short
sermon, songs and prayer time."

"Am I supposed to do something?" I asked nervously.

Chief Williams stopped in the middle of the street we were crossing.

"Haven't you ever been to church before?"

"No." We had one in Whitfield Glen opposite the town office and I
would see people dressed up on Sundays coming in or out and socializing in the
small parking lot on the side of the building, but I never had the nerve to go
in and nobody ever asked me.

The Chief whistled a low note.

"Well, that's a first. I never met a person who's never been to church
before."

He started walking again and I lagged behind him by a step or two.

"Never been to church," he repeated.

"Don't worry. You just sit. If you want to pray, you just put your
hands together and close your eyes. After the service, you can talk to whoever
is willing to
conversate
with you."

We
arrived
a couple of minutes later. Dropping my
head and looking directly in front of me, I followed the Chief into the church.
I was relieved to find folks weren't wearing fancy outfits, just regular day
clothes, so I didn't stick out so badly.

It was pretty inside. It reminded me of Mrs. Covey's living room but it had
long wooden benches with backs and golden cushions. The Chief and I sat in the
third row, in the middle, with a family to either side of us, one with a boy
and a girl in jeans and the other with twin girls dressed in matching black
dresses with pink bows. I looked around the church and I saw mostly white
faces, but there were some black faces, and a couple of families that looked
like they came from one of those tropical places.

The pastor stood up at a box in the front decorated with a sash with little
yellow crosses hanging from it. There was a lady sitting at a small organ and
seven ladies and two men standing in a group next to it.

Music started playing and the group began singing. All the people stood up
with a book in their hands. The Chief motioned for me to stand, too, and he
held his book in between us. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't know the
words and the squiggles on the pages in front of me just looked like ants. But
the song was surely pretty and it made me smile. Maybe this was the heaven
people always talked about.

The hour went by too fast. I would have been happy to just sit there all
evening listening to the music and the stories the pastor told about Jesus
watching us and helping us and promising to give us what we wanted and needed.
Then it got quiet and people bowed their heads and put their hands together.
Some had their palms together and others wove their fingers together. I made a
little round house with my hands and asked for Jesus to help me and Charlene. I
made up my own little story when my eyes were shut and in it Charlene was the
girl I remembered and not the one that showed up the day of the fire that got
me locked up.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the Chief standing in the place where the
pastor had been.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I am going to make a bit of
a strange request of you today and I would like you to remember that you are
Christians who are required by God to love one another, even those we don't
quite understand." When he said "understand" he looked directly
at me.

"We have a visitor today who has come here from Arkansas seeking some
answers and some peace in his life. He has a good heart." Chief Williams
paused and pointed me out and I wondered that he trusted me now because he was
saying good things about me.

He continued. "This man lived a quiet life up in the mountains and one
day a girl came to him, lost and destitute, and he gave her a home to stay in.
He didn't ask her too many questions, just opened up his house and heart,
giving her a safe place to settle. You may know that girl. Her name is Kristen
Stoddard."

A collective gasp went up inside the church and all the heads turned to look
at me. I dropped my head so I wouldn't have to see their faces.

Chief Williams cleared his throat.

"Kristen Stoddard is in jail now in Mr. Hutchins' home town awaiting
trial." I waited for him to say she had killed again but he didn't mention
it.

"Mr. Hutchins just wants a few questions answered about Kristen. He
came all the way here for your help. If you can spare a few moments of your
time, I will be with Mr. Hutchins in the side sanctuary."

The church was dead silent.

"Thank you," he said and he stepped down from the podium and came
to stand by the end of my row. The family next to me turned away and quickly
filed out in front of me and headed for the church door. I stepped out into the
aisle after them and Chief Williams took me by the arm and led me to a little
room with a small statue of Jesus on a cross and a circle of chairs. It was a
pretty room that I would enjoy sitting in if just to stare at the pretty
colorful windows with the hundreds of pieces of glass put together in a way
that made pictures, but my heart was thumping and I wished I could just run out
the door, out of the church, and have Mickey pick me up on the highway.

We sat down next to each other facing the open door to the big worship room
and watched as the crowd got smaller and smaller. Finally, the pastor came in and
five others came in after him. Two were white men, two were black men, and
there was one white lady.

No one said anything for a minute. Then, one of the white men looked at me
suspiciously and said, "So you were keeping Kristen with you, taking care
of her, while her parents and babies lay in the cemetery.”

I felt ashamed. The Chief spoke up. "He didn't know, Jim, he didn't
know."

Jim didn't back down. He asked the question about Charlene being in jail in
Whitfield Glen that the Chief didn't talk about.