by With Heart
“Barker Fleming talked to Miss Dolan. You know, he’s that good-looking Indian with the big car. I think he’s got a crush on her. He lost her picnic basket and is bringing her another one. I heard someone talking from the tannery last week. He’s going to be running it. His family owns it, you know.”
“What else did he say to Miss Dolan?”
“He’s bringing a picnic basket and he’s filling it for her. Isn’t that romantic? I can’t help it if they didn’t say anything important. You told me to let you know of any out-of-the-area calls.” Flossie sounded peeved.
“I know I did. Thanks, Flossie. Let me know if there are any calls between the paper and the sheriff’s office.”
“Sheriff’s office? Why—”
“Just let me know,” Louise said impatiently, and hung up the phone.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Kathleen and Johnny sat in the truck parked behind the Gazette.
“Such beautiful hair.” Johnny stroked her curls, then tipped her chin with a finger and kissed her.
“Not everyone likes red hair. I’m stuck with it.”
“And stuck with me.”
“I’m happy to be stuck with you, Johnny Henry. How come you changed your mind about digging up the box at the cemetery?” Kathleen asked and snuggled her hand into the open collar of his shirt.
“I began to think of it as evidence. If I go out there and dig it up, find nothing in it and put it back, it could be said I removed what was in it. If we wait and dig it up with witnesses, maybe Grant and Judge Fimbres, and find it empty, it’ll be credible evidence.”
“That makes sense. I hadn’t thought of it that way although one of the dates I got at the courthouse corresponds with the date Clara’s baby was born. Hazel remembered it because it was her mother’s birthday.”
“You got the ball rolling, honey.”
“Are you eager to see your friend, Mr. Gifford?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen him for a couple of years.” He drew her head to his shoulder. “The paper goes to press tomorrow. Tonight we’d better tell Hazel about Marty being arrested. We don’t want her to hear it from someone else.”
“You’ll go with me?”
“Sure.”
She curled her arm around his neck. “I like you a lot, Mr. Henry.”
“That’s a relief. I was thinkin’ you kissed men you didn’t like.”
His lips touched hers, lightly at first, then with longer and more intense kisses, concentrating his attention on doing this while his palm wandered from one of her breasts to the other.
“Did I tell you that the other night was the most wonderful night of my life?” she murmured.
“Only about a dozen times. It was great, wasn’t it? I might have to marry you so that we can do it again.” He kissed her again and again; his mouth wandering over her nose, her eyes, her cheeks. When he lifted his head, his breath was warm on her wet lips. “I’ve got to get crackin’. I’ll take you around to your car and follow you home.”
• • •
The first paper to come off the press was displayed in the window of the Gazette. Paul had done an excellent job making up the front page. TEXAN ARRESTED FOR MURDER blazed across the top. A picture of Clara Ramsey lying in the ditch and a picture of Sheriff Carroll beside his car were stacked along one side. The subtitle read: SHERIFF CARROLL BRINGS IN CONFESSED KILLER OF LOCAL WOMAN.
In the story, Kathleen had given as much credit as she could to Sheriff Carroll, reported that at first he thought the death was an accident, but after viewing the body in the funeral parlor, he realized that Clara Ramsey had been murdered. Assisting in the arrest, Kathleen wrote, had been Johnny Henry, a local rancher, and Keith McCabe, a Texas Ranger. A paragraph detailed Marty Conroy’s background, stating that he was from a prominent Texas family and had been seen with the victim at the rodeo and again at the Twilight Gardens on the night she was killed. The hearing would be held November 3, allowing time for Conroy’s Texas lawyer to find representation for him in Oklahoma.
The usual number of papers reserved for sale in the office were gone within an hour. Paul had wisely increased the print run, and more papers were brought from the back room. Adelaide said she couldn’t remember when there had been such a demand for the paper.
Johnny came to the office just as Woody was taking the bundles to the post office. He held the door until the wagon cleared, then came in, his eyes on Kathleen and hers on him.
“I’ve been down to the sheriff’s office. He spent the night at the jail since he didn’t know how much he could trust Allen Lamb, his extra man.”
“So he’s hanging in there?”
“You bet. He was afraid Thatcher and Doc Herman would find a way to let Marty out and get him back over the line into Texas.”
“Doc is in a panic, or he wouldn’t even think of doing anything so foolish,” Paul said.
“He came back last night and told Carroll that he was fired and to give his keys to Thatcher. The sheriff is more of a man than I thought he was. He told Doc that he had been elected by the people of the county and, as mayor of Rawlings, Doc had no authority to fire him. Judge Fimbres backed him up.”
“Oh, my. If you think Doc is mad now, wait until he finds out he’s being investigated.” Adelaide’s eyes sought Paul as they always did when she was worried.
“He won’t find out unless they come up with something that’ll stand up in court.”
“They’ve found something, or Grant Gifford wouldn’t be coming down. Judge Fimbres has called in a state marshal from Elk City. He’ll be here tonight. I told Carroll to keep his gun handy until then. Desperate men do desperate things.” Johnny took a paper off the counter and dropped a nickel in the cup.
“You don’t have to pay for a paper,” Adelaide protested.
“I’m taking this down to Carroll.”
“Paul and I are going to talk to Judy tonight. We think we should tell her everything. She took a big risk coming here and has the right to know.”
“Even about the sheriff?” Kathleen asked.
“Even that.”
Paul rolled his eyes when Kathleen took Johnny’s hand and led him to the back room.
“I remember when you got me in the back room every chance you got.” Adelaide cocked a brow.
“I don’t have many chances nowadays with so many people around.” Paul complained, then came to her, and whispered. “I’d rather get you in my bed.”
Out of sight of the front office, Johnny put his arms around Kathleen and kissed her.
“I’m going to stay with Carroll until the state marshal gets here. Then I’ll go home and get some things done.”
“You’ll be here tomorrow?”
“I don’t figure the others can get to town before noon. I’ll be here before then.”
• • •
At the clinic, Doc Herman paced his office. Louise sat in a chair beside his desk, her rabbitlike front teeth worrying her lower lip. She had chewed the thick coat of lipstick, and it was smeared on her teeth.
“I’ve got a feeling there’s things going on here that I don’t know about. Carroll has got his back up. He’s getting encouragement from somewhere.”
“Johnny Henry. And he’s being egged on by that redheaded bitch at the newspaper.”
“What could she have found out from the birth records except that there are more births here than in most towns? For obvious reasons, none of the people who send their girls here would talk.”
“Maybe we don’t have anything to worry about. If the marshals come in, it will be only to work on the Conroy case. They’ve no proof of anything.”
“Call the people in Waco and tell them not to come. Tell them the baby died.”
“What’ll we do with the baby when it’s delivered?”
“Keep it for a while and see what happens. Destroy the file of places we’ve advertised the clinic as a home for unwed mothers. That will be a start.”
“Let’s shut down and go
away, Doc. You said we would when we got enough money.”
“The money wouldn’t last any time at all, Louise. I want to show you the world.”
Louise hoisted herself up out of the chair. Her dyed hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and perspiration stained her uniform beneath her armpits. Revulsion made Doctor Herman close his eyes for a long moment, preparing himself for the ordeal of kissing her. He went to her and kissed her gently on the mouth, forcing himself to take his time.
“Now run along, my dear. I need to think about what’s best for us to do.”
“You’re the best man in the whole world, Doc. Just tell me what to do. I’ll stick my head in the fire if it’ll help you.”
“Thank you, dear, sweet lady. No man has ever had a more faithful lady friend.” He patted her cheek.
Christ, but I’ll be glad to see the last of you and your rabbitlike teeth, your painted face, and your cowlike devotion.
• • •
By Friday morning Kathleen’s nerves were standing on end. At breakfast Hazel had been quiet. To lose her daughter by accident had been bad enough, but to know that someone had deliberately killed her was devastating. Kathleen hoped that Marty Conroy’s conviction would help ease her pain.
As soon as she reached the office, Kathleen asked Adelaide how Judy had taken the news that Sheriff Carroll was more than likely her father and that her mother was a Cherokee girl who, unable to cope with the loss of her baby, had turned to alcohol.
“She is so mature for her age,” Adelaide said. “Her response to that was, ‘She must have loved me very much.’”
“What did she say about Sheriff Carroll?”
“Not much. She said he was nice.”
“It was a lot for a young girl to swallow all at once.”
“Paul explained to her how important she was to the building of a case against Doctor Herman and Louise Munday. He asked her to write down every word she could remember that either of the DeBerrys said to her about when they came here to get her. She was never adopted by them, because their names are on her birth certificate.”
“I wish you would marry Paul. He’s such a wonderful man.”
“I’m thinking about it. He loves children. His wife wouldn’t give him any, and I’m too old.”
“Adopt one. You and Paul would make wonderful parents.”
“We could have bought one from Doc,” Adelaide said bitterly.
Kathleen cocked her ear toward the back room. “Johnny’s here.”
“When are you two going to get married?”
“He hasn’t asked me, Adelaide.”
“He will.” Adelaide said confidently, then, “Mr. Fleming is here.”
With Barker Fleming was a man dressed in a light tan suit with a Stetson to match and wearing round wire-rimmed glasses. Another car pulled up alongside Barker Fleming’s and two men got out. All four came into the office.
After greeting Kathleen and Adelaide, Barker introduced Grant Gifford and two marshals.
“Miss Dolan and Miss Vernon, meet Grant Gifford, Oklahoma State Attorney General, and Marshals Whitney and Putman.”
After shaking hands with the two women, Grant Gifford looked past them to where Johnny lounged in the doorway leading into the pressroom. A smile lit his face.
“Johnny Henry, I’ve a notion to give you a damn good licking for not coming up to see us.” Grant threw his hat on the desk, dropped into a crouch, and put up his fists. Johnny did the same.
“You’ve got so soft you couldn’t whip Aunt Dozie,” Johnny retorted.
“Think not? Want to take me on, boy?”
The two met, clasped hands, and pounded on each other. “Good to see you, Grant.”
“Good to see you, too, Johnny. It’s been two years. We’re not going to let that much time go by again.”
“How’s Karen?”
“Sassy. Our Mary Ann is going to be just like her. Margie is more like me, calm and sweet!”
“Has Karen heard you say that?”
“Lord, I hope not! We got down to Red Rock a few months ago. Karen’s dad is getting on.”
“Aunt Dozie told me you were there.”
“Don’t yawl be trackin’ dat cow-doo on my clean ’noleum. I wearin’ de flowers off scrubbin’ after yawl.” Grant imitated the old woman, and both men laughed. “She was a crackerjack.”
“She still is and she’s getting on, too,” Johnny said.
Barker introduced the two marshals to Johnny and Paul, then stood back and proudly admired the way Johnny presented himself to the marshals. He had not mentioned to Grant Gifford that Johnny was his son, leaving it to Johnny to tell his friend if he wanted him to know.
They went into the pressroom and, after Paul was introduced, Johnny told Grant that Marty Conroy was locked up in the jail.
“Marty Conroy? What’s the little jelly bean done now?”
Johnny explained about Clara’s death and Dr. Herman’s part in wanting the death to be declared an accident. He told how he and Keith had worked together to get a confession.
Grant chuckled. “It’s nothing to laugh about, but I can just hear Marty telling the judge that he is the Conroy from Conroy, Texas.”
“The doctor ordered the sheriff to let him out, but the sheriff refused. Then he tried to fire the sheriff, but Judge Fimbres interfered.”
“What connection would Conroy have with Dr. Herman?” Grant asked, looking from Johnny to Paul.
“We don’t think he has a connection,” Paul said. “We believe he feared the state marshals coming in and uncovering some of his activities.”
“Fleming laid out a good case against the doctor,” Grant said. “We went to work right away investigating every aspect of the doctor’s life. We contacted Mr. and Mrs. DeBerry in Fort Worth. Mr. DeBerry is bitter and will testify against him. I understand the DeBerry girl is here.”
“She is,” Paul said. “She doesn’t want to go back to the DeBerrys. We are quite sure we know who her father is. She was born to an unwed mother. We don’t want her going to the orphans’ home. Adelaide and I will take care of her.”
“If she’s safe and content here. We can decide what to do about her later.”
“Clara Ramsey, the girl Marty is charged with killing, had a baby a year ago,” Johnny said. “It is supposed to have been stillborn and buried out on the family lot. Kathleen discovered in the records at the courthouse a birth certificate made out to a couple from Weatherford, Texas, just one day later. Kathleen and I believe the box Doc had buried to satisfy Clara’s mother is empty.”
Kathleen was glad to leave the telling of the details up to Johnny. There was genuine affection between him and Grant Gifford. She wished he would direct some of his remarks to Barker Fleming, but that would have to come when he was ready to acknowledge the relationship.
Grant glanced at the pretty redhead who sat beside Johnny listening with rapt attention to every word he said, and realized that they were more than friends.
“We should find out what’s in that box. I’ll take Marshal Putnam and go see Judge Fimbres.” Grant stood. “Meanwhile, Fleming, why don’t you and Johnny go with Marshal Whitney to the cemetery. There should be two witnesses to what’s in it, or not in it. Then come down to the courthouse. If it’s empty as you suspect, you’ll need to sign an affidavit.”
• • •
In the middle of the afternoon two cars drove up to the clinic. Barker Fleming and Grant were in one car, the two marshals in the other. Johnny had been invited to come along, but had declined.
The woman at the desk looked up with large frightened eyes when four men came into the reception area. Grant and Barker held back and the marshals took the lead.
“May I help you?” the woman asked timidly.
“Dr. Herman,” Putnam said. “Where is his office?”
“I’ll get him.”
“Is he with a patient?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She stood and moved toward the door behind h
er.
Marshal Putman stepped quickly around the desk. “Don’t bother. Sit back down, ma’am, and stay here. We’ll find him.”
Marshal Whitney flung open the door. Dr. Herman was standing in the middle of the room.
“I thought I heard voices out there. Who are you?” Doc’s eyes went beyond Marshal Whitney to the other three men. “What do you mean coming into my office without knocking?” The four men said nothing, but looked at the doctor, letting their silence work on his nerves. “Is this a holdup?” Doc’s voice was hoarse when it broke the silence. “I don’t keep money here.”
Marshal Putman opened his coat, showing a holstered revolver, then reached into his inside coat pocket and flipped out a badge.
“Federal Marshal James Putman. This is Marshal Whitney, Mr. Gifford, Oklahoma State Attorney General, and Mr. Barker Fleming.”
“What can I do for you?” Dr. Herman’s face was flushed, and his voice trembled slightly.
Grant stepped forward. “Sit down, Doctor, and tell us why you buried an empty box out on the Ramsey plot.”
“What are you talking about?” The doctor moved behind the desk but didn’t sit down.
“I think you know, but I’ll tell you anyway. Clara Ramsey had a baby a year ago. She told her mother it was stillborn. She sold you a live baby, took the money, and left town. You sold that baby to Mr. and Mrs. Carl Sheldon of Weatherford, Texas. You fixed the records to show that Mrs. Sheldon had come here and had had the baby.”
“Why . . . why . . . that’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of! The Sheldons were on their way home when she went into labor. They stopped here, and I delivered their baby.”
“Sit down, Doctor.” After the doctor was seated, he asked, “Why did you bury an empty box?”
“It had the body of a stillborn child in it when I hired a man to bury it.”
“Mr. Fleming and Marshal Whitney just dug up the box and all that was in it was medical waste, bandages, gauze, and several empty bottles. The trash in that box came from this clinic.”
“That’s a lie!” Doc jumped to his feet. His face was beet red and cords stood out on the sides of his neck.
“Well, never mind that. Sit down, Doctor.” Grant said patiently. “Sixteen years ago you sold a baby to a couple named DeBerry for two hundred dollars. You told the father of the baby that you knew a couple who were well-off and would give the baby a good home, something he couldn’t do. The DeBerrys threw her out and want their money back. You told them that the girl’s mother was blond and blue-eyed. The truth is that the baby’s mother was a Cherokee. The girl is here in town looking for her real mother.”