by Harper Lin
“You leave,” Stella said before turning around to face them. She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “There won’t be any problems with your father’s crops or your friend’s family.”
“Can we…do anything for you, Stella?”
For a few seconds, Stella stood there and looked at the ground. Then she looked up and shook her head.
“You witnessed a murder. If you feel the need to call the police, I understand. But know that I’ll be leaving here once I finish this job. If they catch me, fine. Even in a jail cell, I’ll be freer than I was in this house.”
She went back to the task of shattering Leelee’s trinkets and said nothing more to Becky and Stephen. The last thing Becky saw was Stella approaching the shed that held the two monstrosities with their mouths sewn shut. Stella held a match to it.
Without waiting any longer, the duo hobbled slowly into the darkness. The light from the burning shed could be seen deep inside the woods. Becky knew the two pitiful creatures that had been locked inside were no longer making noises.
“We’ll call the police from your house,” Stephen said.
“What? We’re not calling the police,” Becky answered calmly. “As far as I’m concerned, I didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. Nope. And you’d be wise to dummy up as well.”
“Becky, we saw a murder. Two if you want to be precise.” He was obviously feeling better and getting the wind back in his sails.
“All right, tough guy. Say we call the police. What are you going to tell them? That we were trespassing on the property where there is a moonshine still and a bathtub gin racket going on? That doesn’t look suspicious at all.” Becky cleared her throat as they reached the tobacco field. “Then you’ll have to elaborate on the fact that Mr. Tobin’s maid tried to kill me because she thought I broke her mason jars. I’m sure they won’t think we were sipping any of that hooch. Not a drop.”
“Becky.”
“Oh, and let’s not forget that my parents, who are dear friends of your parents, will all be the topic of conversation at every gathering of two or more people from now until the Rapture. And even if they stick to the facts, which you know they won’t, it will put both our family names in cahoots with the likes of Jesse James and Abraham Lincoln. Just remember that history may forget, but Southerners never do.”
Becky propped Stephen up against the fence post as they approached the bald patch where the workers had pulled the sickly plants from the ground. On hands and knees, she felt around the stalks of the other plants.
“What are you doing?” Stephen asked.
“You want to mind your onions?”
“I’d like to know, since the last adventure you took me on almost got us killed,” he retorted.
“Almost being the key word there. Aha! There you are, you little devil.”
Becky’s hands wrapped around the glass jar she’d seen earlier and pulled it from its hiding place. When she stood up, she dusted off her dress with her free hand. It didn’t make much difference. She was filthy. Becky dashed the jar against another fencepost. Satisfied with it shattering into a thousand pieces, she went to Stephen, took his hand, and wrapped it around her shoulder in order to help get him to his car.
“I don’t know if I can drive. My head is pounding.” Stephen was putting more weight on Becky than he had been. He was pulling her closer and closer to him.
“Oh no you don’t. You need to dangle. Beat it. Scram outta here. How in the world do you think it would look if you and I set foot in my parents’ house at this ungodly hour looking the way we do? It’s bad enough Daddy won’t let me have my own boiler to drive around, all because of... well, that’s another story. But if he sees us like this, all that razzle-dazzle in that smile of yours won’t save you. He’ll lay you out but good.”
Becky huffed as they finally made it to Stephen’s car.
“I’m telling you, Becky, I’m seeing stars. I can’t drive,” Stephen said as he leaned against his flivver.
In Becky’s head, she argued and cussed and thought of a million reasons to send Stephen away. No matter what he said, his condition was not her fault. He’d brought it on himself.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. But you need to follow my lead. No questions asked. Get in your car,” Becky ordered but stopped Stephen short. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting in my car,” he snapped back.
“Not behind the wheel. You’re hurt. Get in the back and lie down. Stick a leg out or something. Just scoot over.”
Becky slipped behind the wheel, cranked the engine, and hit the clutch and the gas, making the car lurch forward before it stopped short.
“Jeez, Becky! What are you trying to do?”
“Cheese it and sit back. And remember what I said. No questions asked.”
With that, Becky hit the gas and sped up to the front of the Mackenzie home. She honked the horn loudly and called for her mother and father. Half the lights snapped on in an instant, and before she could figure out how to get the car to stop, Kitty and Judge were on the porch.
“What’s going on?” Kitty cried. “Becky, my goodness! What happened?”
“Oh, Mama!” Becky cried as she climbed out of the car. “We got dry-gulched!”
“What? What does that mean?” Kitty asked, rushing up to her daughter.
“Stephen and I had decided to go to Willie’s. Along the way, we stopped at a gin mill and then another, and Stephen said he needed some cigarettes. So we walked to the drugstore on Bryn Mawr on the way to Willie’s, and some fakaloo artist—you know, a con—stumbled out of the alley and asked Stephen for a nickel.”
“Oh my dear!” Kitty gasped.
Judge was busy helping Stephen out of the back seat. Like a champ, Stephen groaned and kept repeating “Oh my head. My head.”
“Well, Stephen, being the kind of swell egg he is, handed the guy a dime. Well, the ungrateful lout took out a sack of pennies and clobbered him in the head.” Becky sniffed. “Then two more guys jumped out of the alley. We barely got out of there with our lives. We had to run for our very lives. And I ruined my dress.”
“Oh my goodness. What is the world coming to? Judge, put Stephen in the spare bedroom. I’ll get him some ice for his head.” Kitty looked at Becky with worry. “Don’t you worry about your dress. Mama will get you a new one.”
Moxley and Lucretia were also up by this time.
Teeter, who was rubbing his eyes and yawning, held his mother’s hand. “I want to know what happened to Miss Becky,” he whined.
“Miss Becky’s just fine. Let’s go back to bed,” Lucretia cooed.
“But I’m not tired,” Teeter whined.
“Me neither. We’ll stay up and count sheep,” she continued as she led the boy back into the house to their room past the kitchen.
“Promise?” Teeter yawned again.
Moxley asked Judge if there was anything he could do to help. Judge said that if he could scare up some extra nightclothes and a brandy, that would be most helpful. As Moxley turned to tend to Judge’s request, he caught Becky’s eye. She gave him a quick wink, at which he shook his head and chuckled.
“Oh, my! It sounds like a bomb’s gone off.” Fanny came stumbling out of her room with her hair in pins and tape over the space between her eyebrows.
“It’s all right, Fanny. Just go on back to bed,” Kitty said as she walked with Becky to her room.
“Why Becky, you look like something the cat dragged in.”
“That’ll do, Fanny,” Kitty snapped.
“If you think I look bad, stick around. Stephen got the worst of it.” Becky jerked her thumb behind her. Judge was bringing up the rear with his arm around Stephen as he led him to the spare room.
Fanny, fearing anyone might see her sans munitions, doubled back to her room and slammed the door.
It took about half an hour for things to calm down. After everyone got washed up and calmed down, Kitty and Judge went back t
o bed. Becky was tucked in tight, and Stephen was left in the spare room with a brandy and an ice pack for his head.
Within a quarter of an hour, Becky emerged from her room and tiptoed to the spare room. Quietly, she rapped on the door.
“Who goes there?” Stephen whispered as he cracked the door open.
“It’s me. Can I come in?” Becky replied.
“Oh, Fanny, I thought you’d never come,” Stephen teased.
“A wise guy, huh?” Becky pushed the door open and slipped in. There was a candle burning on the nightstand. “We do have electricity here. Would you like me to put the light on for you?”
“No. It hurts my eyes. I’ll be knocking off soon anyway. If Fanny doesn’t come and pay me a visit, that is.” Stephen smirked.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Becky whispered. She sat down on the edge of the bed while Stephen climbed in under the covers.
“That was some night,” he said. His voice was so soft and light that the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs almost drowned it out.
“I’ll say.” Becky rolled her eyes.
“That was some quick thinking on your part. Very creative.” He pulled the blankets up around his chest and let his arms lie at his sides.
“Well, I had to explain that bump on your head and the state of my clothes. If you can’t be sneaky about it, then go all in. That’s what I say.” Becky smiled. “You did pretty good yourself. I didn’t need you to follow me. But I’m glad you were there to…be a fly in the ointment and cause me worry and…”
“You were worried about me?” Stephen sat up.
“I was worried about you the way a person worries about a feeble sibling or a three-legged dog. I was sure you’d be okay, but you’d probably slow me down.” She chuckled before getting up from the bed. “How is your head?”
“It hurts. Can you hand me that compress? I left it on the davenport.” Stephen pointed to the loveseat by the window.
Becky glided soundlessly back and forth across the room.
“Let me see?”
Stephen leaned forward and tenderly touched the spot that was sore. Gently, Becky placed the compress against the bump and eased him back against his pillow. But before she could pull away, Stephen grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. Their lips met. Becky’s heart raced. When she braced herself against his chest, she felt his heart pounding as well. Stephen pulled her closer and tighter. Had Becky not had her wits about her, she might have fallen into his arms and stayed there. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Reluctantly, she pulled back from him. His eyes twinkled, and he smiled a sweet, innocent smile.
“I have to get back to my room,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he said. “You could stay in here with me. We could talk about tonight. That was really something. If that’s the kind of date you like to go on, I can hardly wait for our next one.”
“That wasn’t a date,” Becky said, pulling her robe tighter around her waist.
“Sure it was.”
“No, it wasn’t. You were my chauffer for the night. And then you decided to be a party crasher. And now you’re a masher.”
“Why do I get the feeling that’s what you like about me?” Stephen teased.
“I can assure you that I don’t like anything about you, Stephen Penbroke.” She slipped to the door. “But I am glad you’re all right.”
“Good night, Becky.”
“Good night, Stephen.”
Before Becky could slip back to her own room, she saw the shadow of Fanny’s bedroom door close. Her cousin had been listening. It was not a surprise.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It had been a week since Mr. Tobin had shot Leelee. In that time, it had made the local papers. Becky sat in her favorite red velvet chair as Fanny read the news article about it out loud.
“It says here that Mr. Tobin and his maid were killed by what the police say was a gang dispute over bootlegging territory. It also says Mr. Tobin’s hired hand, a Mr. Edward Short, was found dead on the property from a blow to the head.”
Becky had secretly wondered what had become of that Edward character. She let out a long sigh of relief, knowing she’d never see him again.
“Mrs. Tobin has not been found.” Fanny shook her head as she tossed the paper aside. “If she were smart, she’d run and hide for good. A woman with that kind of reputation would be wise to start over in a new town and maybe even change her name.”
Becky remembered it had been right in this room that Hugh Loomis had made a similar comment about Fanny. Funny how people weren’t really all that different.
“We don’t know the whole story, Fanny,” Becky said. “There are a lot of pieces to that puzzle, and I wouldn’t even attempt to guess them.”
“If you ask me, the land is cursed. Mr. Ruthmeyer’s land and Mr. Tobin’s land. If they manage to get a dollar for the lot of it at auction, they should be thankful,” Fanny continued. “I wouldn’t set foot on a square inch of it on a dare.”
Just then, a loud horn honked, and a familiar jalopy appeared in the driveway.
“I don’t think that Teddy knows how to arrive anywhere quietly,” Kitty said as she looked up from her sewing.
Becky jumped out of her seat and ran to the front door. What she saw made her gasp and blush.
“We saw a friend of yours walking in this direction,” Martha shouted, smiling as if she had just swallowed a gaggle of canaries. “It would have been terribly rude of us to not offer him a lift.”
“Yes, Becky,” Teddy replied. “He got all dudded just for you.”
Becky cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt. She opened the screen door and dashed down the front porch stairs before anyone could stop her.
“You look dandy as candy,” she said, looking up into Adam’s handsome face. It was as if he had joined the French Foreign Legion and had finally come home.
“Is your mama at home?” he asked in a low voice.
“She is. Maybe we should all pile back in the car and find a hash house for some grub and a Coca-Cola.”
“Not just yet,” Adam said and reached back into the car to grab a bouquet of simple, pretty flowers. “I’d like to introduce myself in a proper, Southern way.”
“I don’t know if it will make much of a difference,” Becky insisted.
“Well, let’s just see about that.”
Teddy and Martha stomped up the steps like two elephants and went inside. Becky linked her arm through Adam’s and escorted him in as well. When Fanny saw Adam with Becky, she arched her right eyebrow suspiciously.
“Oh, Aunt Kitty. It looks like Becky wants you to meet somebody. How are you, Adam? Those are some lovely flowers,” Fanny said, ruining Becky’s introductions.
“Hello, Fanny,” Adam said.
Squaring his shoulders, he walked past Becky’s cousin and up to Kitty, who was watching with her eyes wide and a smirk on her lips.
“Mrs. Mackenzie, the other day I came calling on Becky, and I understand that it wasn’t proper protocol to show up unannounced. I do appreciate your speaking with me earlier today and for inviting me over this evening. These are for you.”
He handed her the pretty flowers, and stood straight as if he were saluting Old Glory.
“Well, that is mighty kind of you, Adam. I’m so glad you were able to make it.” Kitty stood from her seat and looked at the faces of all the young people in her parlor. “These are beautiful. I’ll go put them in some water and get Lucretia to make you all some of her sweet ambrosia.”
Becky could have been knocked down with a feather. “You talked to Mama?”
“I happened to see her doing some shopping today and introduced myself all over again. Plus, I did a little groveling. I think that helps.” He tipped Becky’s chin with his knuckle.
“Is this a mortuary, or are we going to put on some music?” Teddy asked.
“You know where everything is, Teddy. Go crank up that Victrola,” Becky said while still staring up at Ad
am.
Within minutes, the house was filled with Paul Whiteman and his orchestra. Teddy and Martha wasted no time moving some of the furniture to make room for dancing. Fanny stood by the front door, her arms folded in front of her as she surveyed the situation.
“Don’t worry, Fanny,” Martha called out. “Teddy put the word out to a couple of his pals to join us. But don’t play cards with them. They cheat.”
“Martha, how is your mother feeling?” Becky asked. Since the day after Leelee had been killed, Martha’s mother had made a miraculous recovery from the death sentence the doctor had given her.
“She’s just ducky. That quack really had some nerve getting my father and me all riled up for nothing. He had her taking the big sleep already in a Chicago overcoat when all she had was a flu. Typhoid fever? That guy needed a head shrinker. You can bet my father didn’t let him off the hook easy, either.” Martha nodded.
“I’m so glad,” Becky said.
As if on cue, Judge came in the front door. He’d been out in the fields all afternoon.
“Hi, Daddy. Daddy. I’d like to introduce you to…”
“Adam White, I presume.” Judge smiled politely and extended his hand to shake.
“Well, did everyone know you were coming over but me?” Becky huffed.
“Becky, had we told you, you would have been a nervous wreck all afternoon. You know she can be quite insufferable when she’s on edge.”
“Daddy, please.” Becky rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Adam. The tobacco goes right to his head and makes him loopy. By the way, how are the plants doing?”
“It’s the strangest thing. Not a trace of that fungus on any of the other plants. I swear the boy and I checked every single plant in every row on every acre, and not a single speck on any of them. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. But that sure was a strange occurrence.” Judge scratched his head.
“Well, Daddy, you do have a way with things that sprout from the ground.” Becky let out a sigh of relief. This was the good news she had been waiting for. It almost brought tears to her eyes.
As Judge excused himself, Adam pulled Becky aside.