Elly’s eyes skittered aside. “I’d already hired him before I saw you.”
“Oh.” Will felt justly stung. His hands, only moments ago sweating, grew suddenly icy. So what’d you expect, Parker, after the way you talked to her? Again came the aching desire to ask her forgiveness, followed by the godawful fear that she wouldn’t warm again, and if that happened, he’d have no reason to fight his way out of here. So he sat in misery, with his heart painfully clamoring and a lump in his throat that felt the size of a baseball.
“You okay?” Elly inquired, letting her glance waver back to him. “They feedin’ you okay in here?”
Will swallowed the lump and managed to sound normal. “Pretty good. The sheriff’s wife’s got the cooking contract.”
“Well... you look good.” She flashed a nervous smile.
Silence again, made more awkward by the passing minutes and the fact that they spoke of everything except what was paramount on their minds.
“How did you get here?” He found himself obsessed with an irrational greed to know everything she’d done and thought since he’d been in here, to fill in the blanks of the time he was forced to forfeit. Life had grown so precious to him since she’d become part of it that he felt doubly robbed of his freedom.
“Oh, I caught a ride,” she said evasively.
Distractedly, Elly scratched at the clasp of her purse and they both studied her hands until their eyes seemed to burn. Finally she opened the purse and told him quietly, “I know you told me not to come, Will, but I had to bring these presents from the kids.” From the purse she withdrew two scrolled papers and handed them across the table.
“Wait!” Hess ordered sharply and leaped forward to confiscate them.
Elly glanced up, injured. “It’s only greetings from the kids.”
He examined them, rerolled them and handed them back, then returned to his post beside the door.
Again Elly offered the papers. “Here, Will.”
He unrolled them to find a crude color-crayon drawing of flowers and stick people, and the message I love you, Will faithfully duplicated in nearly indecipherable printing, followed by their names: Donald Wade and Thomas. Will had never had to work so hard to keep tears from springing.
“Gosh,” he remarked thickly, eyes downcast for fear she’d read how closely he treaded the borderline of control.
“They miss you,” she whispered plaintively, thinking, And I miss you. I ache without you. Home is terrible, work is pointless, living hurts.
But she was afraid to say it, afraid of being rebuffed again.
“I miss ‘em, too.” Will’s chin remained flattened to his chest. “How are they?”
“They’re fine. They’re at Lydia’s house today, all three of ‘em. Donald Wade, he gets off the schoolbus there. He loves it at Lydia’s. Him and Sally’re buildin’ a fort.”
Will cleared his throat and looked up, his heart still tripping in double-time, wishing futilely that she need not see him in this place that so reduced a man’s self-respect, wishing for the hundredth time that he hadn’t said what he had the last time he saw her, needing terribly to know if she, like the children, still loved him. Tell her you’re sorry, Parker! Just lay it out there and this misery will be over!
He opened his lips to apologize but she spoke first. “Miss Beasley says Mr. Collins is the best.”
“I trust her judgment.” He cleared his throat and sat up straighten “But I don’t know where we’re gonna get the money to pay him, Elly.”
“Don’t you worry about that. The honey run was good and we got money in the bank, and Miss Beasley’s offered to help.”
“She has?”
Elly nodded. “But I don’t aim to take her up on it unless we have to.”
“That’s probably wise,” he added.
Again came the oppressive silence and the swelling compulsion to touch fingertips. But he was afraid to reach and she was afraid Hess would jump all over her again, so neither of them moved.
“Well, listen.” She lifted her face and smiled a big jack-o-lantern smile, as false as if it had been carved in a pumpkin by a knife. “I have to go ‘cause I been leaving the kids at Lydia’s an awful lot lately and I don’t want to start takin’ her for granted.”
Panic swamped Will. He hadn’t done any of the things he’d intended—he hadn’t touched her, apologized, complimented her on her pretty new dress, told her he loved her, said any of the things crowding his heart. But it was probably best to let her off the hook. No matter what Collins said, the cards were stacked against him. He was a bora loser. Innocent or not, he was bound to lose this trial, too, and when he did they’d lock him up for good. They did that on a second murder conviction, he knew. And no woman should have to wait for a man who’d be sixty—or seventy—when he got out. If he got out.
Elly edged forward on her chair.
“Well...” She rose uncertainly, still with a two-fisted grip on her small black purse. He didn’t remember her ever carrying a purse before; it made him feel as if he’d been incarcerated for nine years instead of nine days, as if she were changing subtly while he wasn’t there to see.
He, too, stood, tightening the roll of paper with both hands to keep from reaching out for her. “Thanks for coming, Elly. Say hi to the kids and tell the boys thanks for these pictures.”
“I will.”
“Kiss Lizzy P. for me.”
“I w—” The word broke in half. Her chin began trembling and she forcibly tensed it.
They stared at each other until their eyes burned and their heartbeats hurt.
“Elly...” he whispered, and reached.
Their hands clung, flattening the scroll of paper—a tense, forlorn message of all that had not been said.
Tears glimmered on her lower eyelids. “I got to g-go, Will,” she whispered and slowly pulled free. She backed up a step and he saw her chest began to heave as if she were already sobbing internally.
Desperate, he swung away and strode toward the door. “I’m ready, Hess!” The words resounded in the bare room as Will left Elly to shed her tears unobserved.
She didn’t come back again. But Miss Beasley did, the next day, with her mouth puckered like a two-day-old pudding and a look of stern reproof on her face.
“So, what have you done to that child?” she demanded before Will even touched his chair.
“What?” His eyes widened in surprise.
“What have you done to Eleanor? She came to my house crying her heart out last night and said you don’t love her anymore.”
“It’s best if she believes that.”
“Bullwhacky!” The word resounded from the walls, taking Will aback. He sat in silence while Miss Beasley raged on. “She’s your wife, Mr. Parker! How dare you treat her like some passing acquaintance!”
“If you came here to give me hell, you can—”
“That’s precisely why I came here, you young upstart! And don’t speak to me in that tone of voice!”
Will let his weight drop to the chair and sat back in an insolent sprawl. “Y’ know, you’re just what I needed today, Miss Beasley.”
“What you need, young man, is a good dressing down, and you’re going to get it. Whatever you said to that young woman to put her in that state was untenable. If there was ever a time when you need to stand by her, this is it.”
“Me stand by her!” Will stiffened and splayed two hands on his chest. “Ask her about standing by me!”
“Oh, I suppose you’re sitting in here sulking because she had to take ten seconds to digest Reece Goodloe’s accusation before coming to grips with it.”
“Digest! She did more than digest!” He pointed toward Whitney. “She thought I did it! She actually thought I killed Lula Peak!”
“Oh, she did, did she? Then why is she running ads in the Whitney and Calhoun newspapers offering rewards for any information leading to your acquittal? Why has she single-handedly rounded up a dozen witnesses to testify on your behalf? Why
has she learned how to drive a car and refused—”
“Drive a car!”
“—my financial help and run all over Gordon County passing out honey to make people forget all the nasty things they said about her years ago and badgering Sheriff Goodloe to find the real killer? And why has she contacted Hazel Pride and taken her into that deserted house that no woman who’s suffered as Eleanor has should ever have to enter again?”
Will finally got a word in edgewise. “Who’s Hazel Pride?”
“Our local realtor, that’s who. Eleanor has put her grandfather’s house up for sale to pay your lawyer’s fee, to see that you get the best defense a man can possibly get in this state. But to do it she had to face that house, and a town full of despicable... horses’ posteriors who don’t deserve to be groveled to. But grovel she did, and she did it for you, Mr. Parker! Because she loves you so much she would face anything in this world for you. And you pay her back by withholding your forgiveness for a reaction that would have been as natural to you had she been the one with the prison record who was being accused again.” Miss Beasley collected herself and sat back self-righteously. “Perhaps I was mistaken about what kind of person you are.”
Will was so dazed, he commented on the most incidental fact.
“She told me she caught a ride to Calhoun.”
“Caught a ride—hmph! She drives that deplorable automobile you stuck together with spit and baling twine, and if she doesn’t kill herself before this is over it’ll be a miracle. She nearly killed Nat and Norris, to say nothing of the buildings she’s bumped into and the sidewalks she’s scaled. Why, a person’s rosebushes aren’t even safe on the front lawn anymore! She’s scared to death of that thing, but she grips the wheel and drives, mind you! Clear up to Calhoun, sometimes twice a day, only to come home believing that you don’t love her anymore. Well, shame on you, Mr. Parker!” Miss Beasley shook her finger at Will as if he were six years old. “Now I want you to consider how you’ve hurt her instead of sitting in here thinking only of yourself. And the next time she comes to visit you, you make amends!”
Like the grand jury, Miss Beasley offered Will no chance to rebut. She sailed out as gustily as she’d sailed in, leaving him feeling as if he’d just taken a ride on a tornado.
Back in his cell, Will experienced a curious reaction, a minute exhilaration. Elly... driving the car? Elly... rounding up witnesses? Elly... going into that house?
For him!
It struck him fully what Miss Beasley had set out to do, and in her own inimitable way, she’d done it: made him realize how much Elly loved him. She must, to face all those apprehensions, all those fears that had held her prisoner on Rock Creek Road for years, that had held her aloof from the townspeople, denying that she needed anybody.
In the wake of Miss Beasley’s visit, Will’s torpor disappeared, replaced by restlessness and a thrill of hope. He paced his cell, cracking his knuckles, wondering what witnesses Elly had found, smiling at the idea of her sweetening them up with honey. God, what a woman! He paced... and pondered... and thanked his lucky stars for both Elly and Gladys Beasley.
Within an hour after the departure of the latter, Will made a decision.
“Hess!” he bellowed. “Hess, get in here!” He clattered his dinner fork against the bars. “Hess, I want you to get a message to my wife!”
“Hold your horses, Parker!” came a voice from the distance.
“Hurry up, Hess!”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” The deputy appeared down the corridor. “What is it?”
“Can the sheriff drive out to my place and get word to Elly that I want to see her?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, get him on the radio and tell him I’d appreciate it if he’d do it soon as possible.”
“Will do.” Hess turned away but stopped and flashed a crooked grin over his shoulder. “Miss Beasley can sure chew ass, can’t she?”
“Whew!” Will replied, running a hand through his hair. “Can she ever! Tell you the truth, I was glad to be safe behind these bars.”
Hess laughed, took two steps and turned back. “Everybody’s talkin’ about it. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“About your wife drivin’ that car like there was no rubber rationing, runnin’ all over drummin’ up witnesses for you, just like Miss Beasley said. You know, Elly and me went to school together and I was one of ‘em who called her crazy. But people are sayin’ now she’s outwitting the Solicitor General. Drivin’ him crazy, wonderin’ what she and Collins will unearth in court!”
Will’s heart began to thunder with excitement.
“Could you tell Collins I want to see him, too?”
“Could if he wasn’t out of town.”
“Out of town. Where?”
“I don’t know. That wife of yours has got him runnin’ like a fox in front of a pack of hounds, checkin’ leads. I do know one thing, though.”
“What?”
“He got your trial on the docket for the first week in February.”
“So fast?”
“Don’t underestimate that old bird, especially not when he’s got your wife workin’ with him.” Hess sauntered away, stopped and grinned back at Will. “There’s a joke goin’ around, only it’s not really a joke at all, it’s—” Hess scratched his head. “Well, you might say it’s a sprinklin’ of respect that’s about fifteen years late in comin’. Folks’re sayin’, ‘Look out, here comes Elly Parker with her honey!’” Turning away, Hess added, “Nobody’s sure if she really gave a quart of it to Judge Murdoch or not, but word’s out he’s the one who married you two and he’s also the one scheduled to preside at your trial.” With a last chuckle drifting down the corridor as he opened the far door, Hess added, “I’ll get word to your wife, Parker.” Then the far door slammed.
CHAPTER
23
Elly didn’t come back again. But she sent a brand-new Calcutta cloth suit and a striped tie and white shirt with cuff links and Will’s military dress shoes all spit-polished for him to wear the day of his trial. And a note: We’re gonna win Will. Love, Elly.
He dressed early, taking great care with his hair, wishing it were shorter above the ears, returning to the mirror time and again to run his fingertips over his shaved jaw, to tighten the knot in his tie, adjust his cuffs, unbutton and rebutton his jacket. At the thought of seeing her again a wedge of expectation tightened deep within him. He paced, cracked his knuckles, checked his reflection once more. Again he ran his knuckles over the hair above his ears, worried that it didn’t look trim enough—not for a jury, but for her.
Staring at his own eyes, he thought of hers. Hang on, Green Eyes, don’t give up on me yet. I’m not the horse’s ass I’ve been acting like lately. After we’ve won this thing I’ll show you.
Elly, too, had taken great care dressing. Yellow. It had to be yellow, her color of affirmation. The color of sunlight and freedom. She’d made a tailored suit in gabardine as pale as whipped butter, its shoulders built up, its pocket flaps buttoned down. She, too, returned apprehensively to check her reflection in the mirror: she’d had her hair sheared so that when she appeared in public Will would have no cause to feel ashamed. Staring at her shaped eyebrows and coral lips, she saw a woman as sleek and modish as the pictures on the coffee table at Erma’s Beauty Nook. Just wait, Will, when this is over we’re gonna be the happiest two people on the face of the earth.
Sitting in the courtroom waiting, she kept her eyes fixed on the door by which she knew he’d enter.
When he did their eyes met and their hearts leaped. She had never seen him in a civilian suit before. He looked stunning, his hair combed with hair oil that made it appear darker than usual, his tie crisp, his dark face a sharp contrast to the white shirt collar.
He lifted his eyes as he entered and his collar felt suddenly tight. He knew she’d wear yellow. He knew it! As if to point it out, the nine A.M. sun had seen fit to slash thr
ough a high window and fall directly across her. God, how he loved her, wanted to be free for her, with her. As he moved across the varnished floor their gazes remained locked. Her hair, what had she done to her hair? She’d had most of it cut off! It was sheared up high on the neck and above the ears, with a side part and a fluffy top. It brought her cheekbones into prominence in a wholly attractive way. He wanted to go to her, tell her how pretty she looked, thank her for the suit and the note and tell her he loved her, too. But Jimmy Ray Hess was at his side, so he could only walk and gawk. She smiled and discreetly waggled two fingers. The sun seemed to turn its warming rays on him. He felt a great rush much like that he’d experienced in the Augusta train station when he’d seen her approaching through the crowd. He smiled in reply.
The woman to Elly’s left nudged her and leaned over to say something. For the first time he noticed it was Lydia Marsh. And on Elly’s right sat Miss Beasley, stern-faced and sober as ever. Her eyes caught Will’s and he nodded, his heart in his throat.
She gave a barely perceptible nod and a tight moue, releasing him to breathe again.
Friends. True friends. Gratitude swamped him but again he had no way to convey it but to nod to Lydia, too, and cast a last lingering gaze over Elly as he reached the defense table and turned his back on them.
Collins was already there, dressed like a dotty museum curator in crinkled puce wool, smelly yellowed cotton, and a silk tie decorated with... pink flamingos! When the handcuffs were removed, Collins rose and shook Will’s hand.
“Things are looking good. I see you’ve got a cheering section.”
“I don’t want my wife on the stand, Collins, remember that.”
“Only if necessary, I told you.”
“No! They’ll tear her apart. They’ll dredge up all that stuff about her being crazy. You can put me on but not her.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ll see.”
“Where were you yesterday? I sent word I wanted to see you.”
“Pipe down and have a chair, Parker. I’ve been out saving your hide, chasing down witnesses your wife dug up.”