Authors: Judith Pella
Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #United States, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Christian, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Contemporary, #Christian Fiction, #ebook, #book
“That isn’t good enough,” Evan insisted.
Maggie was impressed by the authority in his voice.
The sheriff looked for a moment as though he might argue, then, with a shrug, went to the drunk prisoner’s cell and unlocked it. “He’s slept long enough anyway,” the sheriff commented. “Now the city don’t have to pay for his breakfast.” He gave the prisoner a hard shake.
Groaning and mumbling, the man woke up and, with some prodding, was finally escorted from the cell.
Tommy was awake and called out a greeting to Maggie. He paid little attention to Evan.
After the sheriff let them into Tommy’s cell and exited, Maggie smiled and held out another basket of baked goods for him. This time the sheriff had inspected the basket before letting her bring it in.
“Tell your ma thanks again,” Tommy said, taking the basket and setting it aside. “Don’t you look pretty, Maggie! Did you get all gussied up just for me?”
Maggie didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t exactly the case, but she thought an affirmative would give him a much-needed boost.
“I know you like blue, Tommy,” she said. Then thinking it was time for Evan to be acknowledged, she added, “You remember Evan Parker.”
“ ’Course I do,” Tommy said, a bit more guarded. “Just saw him the other day. Ma says he’s my new lawyer and I should cooperate. She was here to see me yesterday.”
Maggie knew Evan had spoken to Mrs. Donnelly after his first unproductive visit. “That’s true, Tommy,” she said. “And Evan is going to do good by you. You saw how he stood up to the sheriff just now.”
“I saw that.” Tommy eyed Evan.
Maggie had the feeling that if Tommy’d been a dog, he would have sniffed him just to see if he really could be trusted.
“Shall we sit down and talk?” Evan suggested. “Maggie is going to help me on the case, so anything you say will be held in confidence by her.”
“I know that ’bout Maggie,” Tommy said. “It’s you I ain’t sure about.”
“As an officer of the court, I am
sworn
to keep your confidence. Confidentiality is one of the highest duties of an attorney.”
Tommy glanced at Maggie for assurance. She nodded enthusiastically, saying, “Tommy, you’ve got to tell Evan everything. That’s the only way he can get you free.”
Tommy looked at Evan. “You’ll get me outta here?”
“If you are innocent, I will get you out of jail.”
“But I ain’t innocent!”
“I believe, from what I know of your case, that there are extenuating circumstances that would make you innocent in the eyes of the court.”
“Ex—what circumstances? First off, you gotta speak English to me, Mr. Parker. Didn’t no one tell you I ain’t the smartest turnip in the field?”
Patiently Evan explained, “I think things may have occurred that would have given you good reason to shoot your father. But before we proceed, that is, before we go on, I do need to hear your story. I have to know what exactly happened the day your father died. And you have to tell me the truth.”
“I don’t like talking ’bout it.”
“I know, Tommy.”
Evan’s tone was so gentle and understanding, Maggie knew no other lawyer would have cared as much about Tommy as Evan did.
“It must have been a terrible day for you.”
“Couldn’t Maggie tell you? She knows most of it.”
“I wasn’t there,” Maggie said.
Just then there was a shuffling at the door that led from the cells to the office in front. The deputy appeared, holding a broom. “I want to sweep out the cell that was just vacated,” he said.
“That will have to wait,” Evan said. “I’m conferring with my client now. Didn’t the sheriff tell you?”
“He left and I got work to do.”
“I’ll let you know when we are finished.”
The deputy left, probably happy to have a good excuse for idleness.
“I know it is hard for you,” Evan said, returning his attention to Tommy, “but you are the only one who knows exactly what happened that day.”
“I kilt my pa!” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling.” He sniffed and tried to get control over his emotions.
“But you didn’t want to, did you?” Evan prompted.
When Tommy hesitated, Maggie knew that was not a good sign.
Again Tommy looked at Maggie. “I tole you, didn’t I? That I wasn’t gonna take it from my pa no more, that if the preacher could whup him, so could I. I tole you, Maggie, if he pushed me, I’d push back.”
Evan glanced at Maggie but made no comment. The little instinctive groan she emitted was probably all he needed to hear.
Evan asked, “Is that what happened that day, Tommy? Did your pa push you?”
Tommy ran a hand over his face. For the first time Maggie really noticed how imprisonment wasn’t sitting well with him. His face appeared sallow instead of ruddy as it had before from his being constantly outdoors. He also looked several pounds lighter than he had weeks ago.
“Okay,” Tommy said with resignation, “this is what happened, and it’s the truth, I swear. Me and Pa was goin’ out to hunt pheasant. He brought along a jug of moonshine, like usual. Well, there weren’t no pheasants, so we got to drinkin’ instead.”
“And you each had a weapon?”
“Pa had his shotgun. I didn’t have none ’cause I was working out in the field when he come and got me. I didn’t figure it was worth goin’ back for it ’cause it was late in the afternoon and we weren’t likely to find no pheasants. I just went along to be sociable.”
“You did not have a weapon?”
“That’s what I said.”
Maggie knew this was significant. If Tommy didn’t bring a rifle, it meant he had not planned the crime. She felt great relief. Yet if the sheriff knew this, why hadn’t he dropped the charges?
“Tommy, did you tell the sheriff about the gun?” She had not wanted to interrupt but couldn’t help asking.
“I think I did when they had that hearing way back when they first arrested me.” He rubbed his chin. “Is that important?”
“It could be very important,” Evan replied. “But go on with your story. What happened after you started drinking?”
“Well, we got drunk, of course!” Tommy chuckled, probably thinking his reply had been quite clever. “After that,” he went on more seriously, “Pa started to rail at me ’bout going to church and becoming a religious sissy. I tried to tell him that religion couldn’t be all that sissified ’cause the preacher sure wasn’t no sissy. That got Pa real riled up. I kind of enjoyed that ’cause I knew he still had a real tender spot about that whuppin’ he got from the preacher. Then he jumped up—my pa, not the preacher, of course—and he started yellin’ at me and callin’ me a girl and a nancy and all sorts of mean stuff. He yelled, ‘I’m gonna make a man outten you once and for all.’ Then he started shootin’ at me.”
“Was he trying to kill you?”
“He might not a been, but he was drunker than a skunk and not aimin’ too straight. That shotgun could do some damage, that’s for sure.”
“You were afraid for your life?”
“Well, what’d you think?” sneered Tommy. “I didn’t have that much moonshine and wasn’t drunk enough not to be afraid. I ain’t ashamed to admit I was shakin’ all over and yellin’ and cryin’ for him to stop.”
“What happened next?”
“I started running, and he chased after me, still shootin’. Then Pa tripped and the gun went flying. I got my hands on it and aimed it at him, thinking to give him a taste of his own medicine. He got up and came toward me, still yelling and calling me names. Then I fired and fi—” Tommy’s voice shook, and tears welled up in his eyes. “I kept pulling the trigger till the gun was empty. Then I kind of woke up, or something, and realized what I’d done.” The tears spilled over the rims of his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to! Maybe there was times I thought about killin’ him, but I didn’t mean to then. I really didn’t. You gotta believe me!”
“I do believe you, Tommy,” Evan said with quiet assurance.
“You gonna make the sheriff and everyone else believe it?”
“During your trial, you will get to tell the jury your story,” Evan said. “I’m sure once they hear just what you have told me, they will believe it, as well.”
“What’s this jury thing?”
“Do you know how a trial works?” Evan asked.
Tommy shook his head.
Evan explained, “One day soon we will be in court. There will be two lawyers. One will be me, defending you, and another lawyer, called a prosecutor, will speak for the state. His job is to prove your guilt. Our system of justice works on the premise that you are innocent until proven guilty. Thus the burden of proof is on the opposing side. Both sides will bring in witnesses that will help prove their case. We will also pick twelve jurors—that is, local folks who show that they can be fair and impartial. These folks will listen to both sides and then decide whether you are guilty or innocent.”
“Will these be folks I know?” Tommy asked. “Can Maggie be one of them jurors?”
“No. Maggie couldn’t be impartial because she is your friend—”
“But my enemies couldn’t be fair, either!”
“They won’t be your enemies. They will be people who aren’t attached to you in any way.”
“But if they don’t know me, how they gonna know I’d never do anything like this on purpose?”
Maggie thought that was a very good question. She didn’t understand the workings of the legal system much more than Tommy did, but it did seem cockeyed to have strangers judging a person.
Evan replied, “It is the fact that they are strangers that will make them fair. They will have to go by the evidence, that is, the facts presented in the trial. That’s what they must base their decision on—the facts, not whether they like you or not. My job is to present the best possible case to convince them of your innocence.”
Tommy looked at Maggie and asked plaintively, “Can he do that, Maggie?”
“I believe he can,” she replied with confidence.
“Okay, then,” Tommy said. “How much longer do I have to wait for this trial?”
“The circuit judge will be through here in about two weeks. We have a lot of work to do before then. We need to come up with some witnesses on your behalf.”
“But ain’t no one seen what happened.”
“We will find people who can attest to your character—”
“No one likes me much around here. Ain’t that true, Maggie?”
“There are a lot of people who will say you’d never hurt your father on purpose,” Maggie replied.
“Like who?”
“Me, for one,” said Maggie. “And my . . . well, my mother.”
“And my ma, too!” Tommy brightened with the thought that there were at least three people who liked him.
“Not your mother,” Evan interjected. “People figure a mother has to support her son, so they would discount her testimony.”
“My ma would never lie!”
“I know that. Don’t worry. We will find enough witnesses without her.” Evan rose. “We will take our leave for now, but I will come back soon to see you.”
“You, too, Maggie?” Tommy asked hopefully.
“I’ll try,” she said.
“I miss you an awful lot.” There was an intensity in Tommy’s voice that made her uncomfortable, but she said nothing. He most likely needed to cling to their friendship more closely than before.
Since no one had bothered to lock them into Tommy’s cell, she and Evan let themselves out of the cell area. As they exited, Maggie noticed that the adjoining door was ajar. The deputy hadn’t closed it all the way when he’d been there before. She glanced at Evan and noted that he had made the same observation.
Once in the office he questioned the deputy, who was still alone and seated at the sheriff ’s desk, feet propped up, chair leaning against the wall, his ear not three feet from the door. “Deputy, were you listening to our conversation?”
“No. What’d you mean?” The deputy leaned forward, letting down his feet.
“The door wasn’t shut all the way.”
“Oh, I was just letting in some ventilation.”
“Where did the sheriff go?” Evan asked.
“I dunno. Maybe home for dinner.”
“Come along, Maggie,” Evan said, striding to the front door. Maggie hurried after him. Once outside, he walked down the plank sidewalk a short distance from the jail, then said, as if to himself, “I don’t much trust that deputy.”
“He seems harmless to me,” Maggie replied.
“Maybe so.”
They headed to Dolman’s, and while the shopkeeper was filling their orders, Maggie noticed a perplexed look still knitting Evan’s brow. When their purchases were loaded into the backseat of the rockaway, Evan took the reins in hand and coaxed the team into an easy trot out of town.
It had started raining again in earnest while they had been visiting Tommy, but the inside of the carriage stayed fairly dry. Maggie had brought a basket of food for their midday meal. She’d thought they might find a spot to picnic at on the way home, but the rain curtailed that idea.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, breaking the silence. Evan had been quiet since leaving the jail.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“I thought we could have a picnic if it didn’t rain, but we could just pull over and eat in the carriage,” she suggested.
“How about when we get out of town?”
“Evan, is everything all right? Are you worried about Tommy’s case?” After hearing the entire story from Tommy’s lips, Maggie felt better than ever about his chances. She didn’t know why Evan had been so solemn.
He didn’t answer for a long moment, no doubt thinking over his response, as usual.
“Maggie, I am concerned about that deputy,” he said finally. “And I am concerned about something Tommy said about you.”
“What’s that?” She tried to sound guileless, though she knew what was coming.
“He said he’d told you he was not going to put up with his father’s abuse anymore. Is that true?”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
“It couldn’t have been long before the murder if he said it after Zack beat up Tom.”
“I don’t see it is all that important,” Maggie reasoned. She didn’t say that this had been eating at her for weeks, a very large matter indeed.
“If anyone knows about this, it could be used against Tommy. Do you see that?” His patience and lack of any accusation whatsoever broke down Maggie’s defenses.