Touched (46 page)

While my grief was depleted, my anger had begun to build. Floyd was dead, mutilated and shot in the back. John Doggett had been falsely accused of five gruesome deaths. And the men who had abused and killed Floyd were walking around, free. One of them would soon be snapping a white cloth in the air as he prepared to tuck it around a customer’s neck. He would lift up the very same straight-edge he’d used to inflict the ultimate wound on an innocent young man. Stroke by stroke, he’d scrape his customer’s whiskers away as he told a joke or repeated a tidbit of gossip. All the time knowing that he would never be punished for what he had done.

The injustice of it all had driven me from the house and into the woods. I could not face JoHanna. I had not been able to witness her helplessness to undo what had been done to Floyd. Her inability to save John Doggett. No one had to tell me that all of the power in Washington that Will might bring to bear could not change a single thing for John.

Five counts of murder. A family hung in a tree. The jury would not think beyond that horrible image. John Doggett would die for it.

Jeb had said that he found the note John left on his door and reported the deaths. Grissham and several men had gone out to Red Licorice Road and found that poor family. By the time they got back to Jexville, they had formulated their plan. John had gone down to the Moseses’ house to hunt for news of Floyd, and it was there that they arrested him.

They’d found John’s journal in his belongings and matched his handwriting to the note he’d left at Jeb’s. It was flimsy evidence, but more than enough for their purposes. John’s crime was his relationship with JoHanna, not the murder of five people. Before Grissham, Tommy Ladnier, and Elikah were through, they’d blame what happened to Floyd on John Doggett, too.

And JoHanna was helpless to stop it.

There was only one small flaw in their plan. One thing they had no way of knowing. John Doggett had left his derringer with me. I had it now, in the pocket of the jacket I wore.

Waiting for the dawn to come, I had arrived at my own plan of action. Nothing could bring Floyd back, and John Doggett would surely be executed: But Elikah Mills would not live to enjoy it. There were two shots in that gun. I would do to him what he’d done to Floyd with the first shot, and with the second I would spatter his brains. I did not want to die along with John Doggett, but I had a chance. Everyone in town knew that Elikah had beaten me. Doc Westfall would testify on my behalf. I would claim self-defense. Chances were I’d go to prison, but I didn’t think they’d kill me outright.

The birds began to awaken in the trees and shrubs around me. They rustled through the dead leaves and chirped and sang, eager for the end of night and the return of the sun. Eager to start a new day. I turned toward the house and slowly began to walk.

At the edge of the woods I stopped and looked at JoHanna’s house. There was a lamp lit in the kitchen, and then I saw Duncan sitting on the back steps, her head in her hands. She didn’t make a sound, but her shoulders shook. Pecos, no longer distracted by his lady loves, had resumed his position of sentinel by her right foot. As I approached he gave me a warning shake of his wings.

“Duncan.” I spoke softly.

My answer was a sob that sounded as if it had torn her throat.

“Oh, Duncan.” I sat down beside her and put my arm around her. She didn’t shake me off, but she didn’t acknowledge me, either. I rubbed her back the way I’d seen JoHanna do and waited for the end of her tears. I had nothing left to cry. All moisture, all goodness, had turned to stone while I sat on the banks of that small creek and made my plan.

“Mattie?” JoHanna stood at the screen door looking down at us on the steps. “I need to talk with you.”

“Duncan, you want to come inside?” I kissed her head.

“Let her cry,” JoHanna said. “Just let her cry.”

I opened the screen and went inside. It was obvious that JoHanna had been crying. Will, too. Even Jeb looked as if the last drop of emotion had been wrung out of him. They must have stayed up all night talking, trying to figure some way out. I knew from looking at them that they hadn’t been able to come up with a thing. Oh, Will would extract his revenge, but it wouldn’t save John Doggett. He’d use his political power to punish Sheriff Grissham at a later date, and maybe ruin Tommy Ladnier. He might publicly beat them, and Elikah, to a pulp. But it was too little, too late.

“We need to take Floyd up to the church.” JoHanna handed me a cup of coffee. “I’m going to make the arrangements for a funeral, and Will’s going to see the sheriff. We have to tell him that we saw that dead family and told John about it. That he wrote the note at my behest.”

She had gone completely mad. It didn’t matter what she told them. They knew John Doggett was innocent. They didn’t care. They were going to try him, find him guilty, and kill him, and nothing she said would make any difference. Unless she confessed to the murders herself. She or Duncan.

“I told her it wouldn’t do any good.” Will must have read my mind. “Jeb is going to take his car to Hattiesburg and find a lawyer for John. Theodore Isles is my choice, if he’ll take the case. We’ll fight this with everything we have.”

Will’s words were bold, but his eyes told me otherwise. He would fight. With every nickel he owned. Even though he knew it was hopeless. At that moment I admired him more than I ever had before.

“Mattie, will you stay here with Duncan?” JoHanna paled even as she asked. “I’m afraid to take her into town, and I’m afraid to leave her here.”

“I’ll stay with Duncan.” I could kill Elikah as good in the evening as the morning. It honestly didn’t matter to me.

“Are you okay?” Will got up and came to me, lifting my chin with a crooked finger and staring directly into my eyes.

“What they did to Floyd, the Odoms and the sheriff and all of them, you’ll make them pay, won’t you?”

“And Elikah?” he asked.

“Him most of all,” I answered. It would be better for JoHanna and Will not to have any idea what I intended. “Do whatever you want to him.”

“You never have to go back there,” JoHanna said.

“She’d better not try,” Jeb added drily. “Elikah’s gotten it into his head he won’t have to pay for what he does. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and kill her.” He leaned over and blew out the lamp. I noticed that it was full morning, a clear, crisp day. An October morning that promised the best of south Mississippi.

“Mattie, would you pack as many of our clothes as you can?” JoHanna looked around the kitchen. “We’ll send someone for the rest.”

“Where are you going?”

“We
…” She emphasized the word. “We’re going to Fitler to get Aunt Sadie, and then we’re moving to Natchez.”

“And John Doggett?” I couldn’t believe she’d leave him in jail.

JoHanna glanced at Will, then dropped her gaze.

“The best thing for John would be for JoHanna to clear out of town,” Will said. “It isn’t him they want to hurt; it’s her. Maybe, if we can get a good lawyer and delay the trial, folks will forget.”

“They’ll forget that five people are dead, hanging from an oak tree?” I couldn’t believe they were so naive. Not Will and JoHanna. They knew better.

“They may forget how important it is to blame John Doggett.”

“Who will they blame? If JoHanna and Duncan are gone, who will they blame?”

Will shook his head. “I don’t know, Mattie. But it’s best for John if JoHanna isn’t here to remind them each day.” His dark eyes flashed me a warning. One I read clearly.

Will would pay for the lawyer. He’d even stay in town and defend Doggett if he had to, but he wouldn’t sacrifice his wife. That decision had been made. JoHanna and Duncan were leaving Jexville.

“Have you told Duncan?”

JoHanna shook her head. “No. She won’t care, though. Floyd was the one thing that tied her heart here. He was her dock at Jexville.” She tried to smile and faltered. “Mine, too, I suppose.”

“It’s best for you to leave.” Jeb stood up and drained his coffee. “Now it’s time for us to get about our business. They’re going to convene a grand jury for John this week. If I’m going to find that big-shot lawyer, I’d better get on the road.”

“Yes, the funeral.” JoHanna brushed at her hair as if it were still long and tickling her face. “Will, are you ready?”

He stood up, retrieving his jacket. When he put it on he looked as if he were getting ready to step back on the train to return to New York.

“Take care of Duncan,” JoHanna said, kissing me on the cheek. For the first time I noticed she was wearing a dark gray dress. It looked more like Aunt Sadie’s clothes than hers, though it fit perfectly. She placed a small black hat with a veil on her head, and she took Will’s arm as they went down the hall to the front door, Jeb leading the way.

I knew they were going to have to put Floyd in the car, and I didn’t want to watch, so I went out the back door and sat beside Duncan on the steps.

“Are you coming with us when we move to Natchez?” Duncan asked. Her voice was blurred by grief.

“I’ve never thought on living in Natchez.” I couldn’t tell her I’d probably be in jail.

“Maybe I’ll make some friends there. Friends my own age.” She glared at me. “Friends who won’t get killed.”

“Floyd would want you to make new friends,” I said as gently as I could.

She stood up and rubbed her eyes with her fists. “I hate this place. I hate everything about it.” Her dark eyes were filled with rage. “If I could call down a curse on this place, I’d do it. A real curse, like they’re all afraid of. One that would curl their toenails.”

She wasn’t funny, but I had to smile at her. She was only nine. Her life with Will and JoHanna had not prepared her for such a cruel reality. What they had given her, though, was the will to fight. She would not lay down and be stomped. She would come back swinging.

“Let’s go inside. I have to pack.”

Together we went into the house, and Duncan sat on her bed while I spread a big sheet on the floor and began to put all of her clothes in the center. Bundled in a sheet, her things would be easier to carry. JoHanna could save the suitcases for Will’s suits and her fancy dresses.

When we were done, Duncan patted the bed beside her and I took a seat. “What will it be like in Natchez, Mattie?”

The idea of the change had begun to disturb her. She didn’t like Jexville, but Natchez was the unknown. “Well, it’s on the Mississippi River. I hear it’s a beautiful town. Lots of big, fancy houses. A lot more negroes, too. They had plantations up around there, so there’s lots of coloreds now.”

Duncan nodded. She eased back on the bed, maneuvering until her head was on the pillow. “Tell me a story about Natchez.”

Tears were welling up beneath her eyelids and oozing down the side of her face. She was remembering Floyd, wanting him to tell a story, not me. I told her the story of a young boy and a colored man who took a raft down the Mississippi River. I’d read the story in a leather-bound book from the library. The parts I couldn’t remember, I made up, adding a young girl about nine who was smarter than everyone else.

Duncan liked the story a lot. It made the idea of Natchez and the Mississippi River seem like an adventure just up the road and waiting for her to arrive and set it in motion. Once her fears and grief had been suspended, she drifted into a sound sleep.

I sat beside her for a long time, knowing this might be my last time to do so. I studied her eyelashes against her cheek, so delicate and childlike. Her eyes shifted beneath the lids and I wondered what she might be dreaming. Something beautiful. Maybe she had joined Floyd in that world where life and death can mingle. Her lips twitched in a soft smile before relaxing, and I stood up to leave. The light rise and fall of her chest was a miracle. Duncan McVay was nothing less than a true miracle.

“I love you, Duncan.” I kissed her cheek and didn’t even jump when Pecos darted in the bedroom window, wings flapping but not making a sound. “Let her sleep,” I warned the rooster as I left Duncan’s room and went to JoHanna’s to continue the packing she had requested.

Accumulating Duncan’s things had been an easy task. JoHanna’s was much more difficult. There were so many things, all of them delicate or crushable. They could not be bundled into a sheet and tied into submission. I got out the suitcases and packed away the most delicate things first, wondering what exactly JoHanna would need for a new life in Natchez. I held up her enormous hat with the rooster feathers and the now dried out black-eyed Susans. Would she wear this hat in Natchez, attracting the stares she’d ignored in Jexville? Or would the move bring about a more modest JoHanna? I could not decide what part of her she was going to leave behind, so I packed everything.

I had just folded the copper dress she’d worn to Annabelle Lee’s birthday party when I heard Duncan moaning. I listened, then started toward her room, goaded by a deep groundswell of terror brought on by her gibbering nonsensical sounds.

The bedroom door was open, and I hurried up to her bed to find her twisting and contorting on the bed. She acted as if someone, or something, had hold of her arm and was pulling at her. She fought and bucked to get away, moaning and crying out in a strange language as she struggled.

It was a nightmare, I could see that plainly.

“Duncan.” I grabbed her flailing leg and held it down with one hand while I pinned her shoulder with the other. “Duncan!”

She was deep in the spell of the dream and I could not reach her. Her mouth opened and shut, gulping air, as if she were drowning.

The terror of it galvanized me into action. Without thinking I slapped her right cheek, a crack of noise that startled Pecos into squawking retribution. The rooster flew at me, spurs extended, and I fell across Duncan, landing squarely on her stomach. Knees and elbows gouged at me as I dodged the rooster and tried to get off her. When I finally managed to push away, Duncan suddenly stilled. The change was so sudden that I knew something terrible had happened to her.

“Duncan!” I was breathless. Scrambling away from her, I looked into her face. Her eyes were wide open, the eyeballs rolled back in her head, her mouth working open and shut, open and shut. She was not breathing. She was drowning in her own room.