After the Parade

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After the Parade Page 32

by Dorothy Garlock


  Johnny, will you ever learn that I’ve never stopped loving you? Will Jude tell you that I was going to have your baby?

  Time went slowly, and her mind raced. She wondered how she would be remembered if she didn’t make it through the day. Would Johnny grieve for her? He had loved her fiercely at one time, and she had been sure he loved her the morning she conceived the baby. She wondered if her body would ever be found, or if Teddy would bury her in some dark hole somewhere.

  During the hour that followed, she moved from time to time so that her arms and legs would respond when she needed them. She began to think that he wasn’t coming back, that his plan was for her to stay here in this room until she died. Then she heard his footsteps on the stairs and repositioned herself so that she could see him when he came in.

  He rapped softly on the door.

  She didn’t answer.

  He rapped again louder. After a few seconds of silence he opened the door. It took all the control that Kathleen possessed to lie still when he entered the room. He paused just inside to look at her.

  “Are you asleep, my angel?” His words were slurred.

  He was in formal attire. His black suit had satin lapels. His shirt was startling white, his bow tie black. On his feet were black patent-leather shoes.

  “Did you drink your tea, darling girl?” He glanced at the tray, where the tea strainer was filled with leaves. “I see that you did, my heart. You are my good sweet girl.”

  He brought his hand out from behind him. In it was a hypodermic syringe with a needle attached.

  Kathleen felt a gigantic surge of fear and with it a fierce determination to fight him to the last breath! Not sure what she was going to do, she watched him as he watched her.

  “Queen of my heart,” he murmured. “My darling Kathleen. You and I and our little princess will soon be together forever. I have adored you since I first set eyes on you. I have guarded you and killed your enemies while I waited for this day. It’s all written in the journal, dear one.

  “Remember the supervisor at Douglas who wanted to take you out and called you a bitch when you refused? He is no more. Nor is the garage man who went into your house uninvited.” He held up the surgical syringe. “I tested this lovely product on that detestable creature who beat his wife. It worked beautifully.”

  Teddy rocked back on his heels, almost lost his balance, and grabbed onto the doorjamb with his free hand.

  “You are so beautiful in the green gown. The emeralds are lovely only because it is you who wear them, my precious girl. You drank your tea, humm? I didn’t want you to be frightened. I had not planned to do this now, but the curse is on me as it was on Mother.”

  He stopped his rambling and began to cry.

  “There is no one to help me, so I must do it myself. I had hoped for more time so that I could see our little princess. But this is the way it must be. You will feel no pain, my lovely one. Within fifteen seconds, I will be with you.”

  Kathleen hugged the pillow. It was hard to wait for him to approach the bed. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She thought of nothing but keeping him from injecting her with the needle.

  “It’s time to go, darling,” he crooned, and came to the side of the bed.

  When he bent over her with the needle poised, Kathleen’s eyes flew open. She reared up with the pillow in front of her and, with the strength of desperation, she rammed it against him. Her feet hit the floor, found purchase, and she shoved again. He toppled back, staggered, and fell, his head hitting the floor. He tried to rise but fell back.

  Dragging the chain, Kathleen went around him to the dressing table and grabbed the heavy crockery teapot. She was ready to bring it down on his head when he opened his eyes, looked up, and smiled.

  “I’m dying, my precious. I pierced my hand with the …needle. It will take a minute. Let me look at you. You will join me, for no one knows that you are here. If you wish to do it without suffering, use…the needle—” His mouth remained open when breath left him. Ice-blue eyes continued to stare up at her.

  When Kathleen’s numbed mind came to realize that he was dead, she dropped the teapot, backed away as far as the chain would allow, and screamed and screamed.

  The air was so cold that their breaths were visible when more than a hundred men and boys spread out over the countryside in search of a clue to Kathleen’s whereabouts. In ten groups of ten or more, they moved across the prairie searching every wooded area, every” shack and shed.

  Barker and his Cherokee worked the land south of Rawlings on horseback and on foot Johnny covered the western area with a dozen volunteers. His horse zigzagged through a small forest, with Johnny leaning from the saddle searching the ground for anything that would be foreign to the area. It was warmer in the woods out of the wind. He dreaded finding evidence that would tell him that she was dead. God, please don’t let it happen.

  He met up with his crew on the other side of the woods. The plan was for all the crews to meet at the crossroads directly south of town at noon to exchange information. Volunteers, organized by Adelaide, would join them, bringing a noon meal.

  A dozen cars were lined up at the crossroads. The women had built fires in the ditch along the road, and coffeepots were sending plumes of steam into the air. Blankets, on the ground, were spread with sandwiches, pies, and cakes.

  Johnny dismounted and removed the saddle from his horse. After slipping a halter on the animal, he attached a long lead rope to the bumper of the end car. The tired horse began cropping the short dry grass.

  Pete came in with his crew, then Barker and a group of Cherokee. The Indians put hobbles on their horses and turned them loose. Another group galloped toward them from across the prairie. The quiet, subdued circle of men took sandwiches, then squatted down on their haunches to eat and to drink the hot coffee.

  Johnny made the rounds to talk to the leaders of the crews. Barker stood with a man Johnny didn’t know. He was a Cherokee, wearing a leather tunic. His hair hung past his shoulders in two braids.

  “Anything, Barker?”

  “Nothing. Johnny, meet Jacob Rides Fast. Jacob, this is my son, Johnny Henry.”

  “Howdy.” Johnny stuck out his hand.

  “I’m glad to meet you and sorry to be doing it under these circumstances.” To Johnny’s surprise Jacob Rides Fast spoke with an accent similar to that of the men he had met during the war who were from the eastern states.

  “Jacob brought the men down from the reservation, Johnny. He’s a member of the Cherokee Nation Council.”

  “I appreciate the help,” Johnny said.

  “We will come back if you need us.”

  One of the Indians spoke to Jacob in Cherokee.

  Understanding the language, Barker said. “I’ll go with them.”

  “They are hesitant about going to the fire for coffee and food,” Jacob explained to Johnny after Barker left.

  Barker returned with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Jacob.

  ’Tom and Hod rode in,” Barker said.

  “Maybe they’ve found something.”

  As Johnny moved away to find Kathleen’s uncles, his eyes moved over a group of young Indian boys scuffling and tossing a ball. He looked away and then back. One of the boys was wearing a black coat, and he had seen a flash of a gold button. His heart thudded, then sank with disappointment when he realized the coat was mid-thigh on the boy. Kathleen’s coat had been long.

  When the boy, running to catch a ball that had been thrown, ran toward Johnny, he noticed that the coat was ragged along the bottom and that the lining hung down. It had been cut off. Johnny ran across the field teward the boy.

  The boy peered up at Johnny with fright when he grabbed him and swung him around. Johnny had eyes only for the coat. It had a round collar and gold buttons down the front to where it had been cut off.

  “Where did you get this coat?” Holding the frightened boy by the shoulders, Johnny yelled again, “Where did you get this coat?”
r />   The boy said something in Cherokee, then repeated the words over and over.

  “Johnny, Johnny.” Barker repeated his name, and shook his arm to get his attention.

  “It’s her coat!“

  “He doesn’t speak English. Let me talk to him.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  “He’s saying that he didn’t steal it.”

  “It’s Kathleen’s coat. Where’s Pete? He’ll know it’s her coat.”

  Barker pulled the frightened boy aside. He was not much older than Lucas. He and Jacob talked to him for several minutes. The boy pointed as he spoke to them. Johnny waited, his heart filled with hope, his head telling him that this could be the dreaded end of the search.

  “He found the coat yesterday while we were looking around the old Clifton place. He was out with me and the men from the ranch. His father works for me. He said he found it in a place filled with boxes. He thought the coat had been thrown away. He cut it off with his knife. He wanted to wear it because he was cold.”

  “Hasn’t anyone searched the Clifton place?”

  “We went there the first day and back again yesterday. The house is boarded-up and locked. Two sheds on the place are padlocked. Wind said that he climbed in a little window and found the coat in a box. He didn’t tell me because he thought I’d make him put it back.”

  Hod and Tom arrived to hear what Barker had to say. The boy stood trembling and looking up at the tall, angry-faced men.

  “Where is this place?” Hod asked.

  “Four, maybe five miles.” Johnny headed for the cars. “You and Jacob coming, Barker?”

  Barker spoke to Jacob, then said, “Jacob will wait here and look after the horses.”

  Two cars left the crossroads, Johnny driving the Nash, Tom, Hod, and Barker with him. Pete had flagged down Sheriff Carroll and hopped in the car with him, telling him the news as they followed the Nash.

  “Tell me what you know about this place, Johnny,” Hod said.

  “Not much. Do you know anything about it, Barker?”

  Barker leaned forward to rest his arms on the back of the front seat so he could be heard.

  “It’s been for sale for a couple of years. It sold recently to a man who hasn’t moved in yet according to Wrenn at the bank. I looked up the deed because I was interested in buying some of the land. The deed was made out to Hi-dendall, Incorporated. All the stock in the corporation is owned by a man named Theodore Nuding.”

  “Hell and damnation, Johnny. Slow down,” Tom cautioned, as the back wheels on the Nash skidded at a corner.

  ’The Clifton ranch is a big one,” Barker continued. “I leased some of the land before Mrs. Clifton died. No cattle were run on it during the war.”

  “How many acres?”

  “I’d say maybe a couple thousand or more. It goes into the county east of here.”

  “That’s it ahead,” Johnny said.

  “Don’t go into the driveway just yet.”

  Johnny slowed, then pulled up onto the grass off the drive. The sheriff parked behind, and he and Pete got out. Pete reached into the car for a crowbar.

  The big old house with a porch on two sides was boarded-up. Not a sound was to be heard except for the wind sweeping the dry leaves on the front lawn.

  “Let’s go in.”

  “Wait a minute.” Hod stood on the edge of the driveway. “A car has been going in and out of here. It’s the same car, according to the width of the tires. A heavy truck has been here since the last rain.”

  Sheriff Carroll seemed content to let the U.S. Marshal take the lead. The men followed Hod up onto the porch. The door was locked. The drive led around the side of the house to a shed with doors wide enough to let a car drive through.

  It was padlocked, but that did not deter Pete. He slipped the crowbar under the hasp and with one yank pulled it free of the wood. The rest was easy. The doors were pulled back.

  “Laws!” Sheriff Carroll exclaimed. “That looks like the car that belonged to the weatherman. He was here for a couple of months checking clouds, but he’s been gone now for several weeks.”

  Pete and Tom searched the shed, Hod and Johnny the car. Across the front seat of the car lay charts, several small instruments, and a pair of powerful binoculars. Nothing pointed to Kathleen’s having been in the car.

  “Goddammit!” Johnny backed away from the car and wiped his face with his hands.

  Pete popped the lock from the shed close to the house. It had one small window that only a skinny kid like Wind could have squeezed through. And as he had said, it was full of boxes. The men went through them, throwing them out the door after they were checked. Some of the boxes contained scraps of wallpaper; empty food cans or were filled with wrapping paper and smaller boxes.

  “Johnny,” Tom said in a hushed voice, and pulled a green dress from a small box.

  “It’s hers.” Johnny had to steel himself before he asked, “Anything else?”

  “Underwear, shoes.”

  “Oh, God!“

  Pete stood in the yard and cursed silently, then headed for the house with the crowbar.

  Hod looked at Tom and shook his head. The signs were not good. If Kathleen’s body was not in the house, he was almost certain that it would never be found. Not much is worse for a family than not knowing what happened to a loved one.

  The wood splintered when Pete yanked the screws from the lock. Then without the slightest hesitation, he rammed his foot against the door. It flew open with a force that banged it against the wall.

  In the attic room at the top of the house, Kathleen heard the sound, but was afraid to hope. She stood as close to the open door of the room as the chain would allow and listened. No other sound reached her. Disappointment brought tears.

  “Damn you, you old son of a bitch,” she said to the body on the floor. “I hate you, despise you, I’m glad you’re dead!“

  She was still crying when she heard male voices. She grabbed the teapot and threw it out the door of the room. It bounced against the wall and broke. She threw the hand mirror, the brush, and finally a jar of face cream. Anything to make noise.

  “Help me!” she yelled. “Help me…please. I’m up here. Somebody help me!” She thought she heard sounds but didn’t know what they were or where they came from. “Help me! Please…I’m up here, and I can’t get out! Please come up here!“

  From down below came a shout that rolled up the stairway.

  “Kath…leen.”

  A door opened. “Kath…leen!” Johnny’s voice.

  “Johnny! Johnny! I’m up here!“

  “Kathleen!“

  There was more shouting downstairs, then the sound of boots on the stairs. Kathleen was crying uncontrollably when Johnny reached the top and rounded the corner so that she could see him. Her arms reached out to him. He grabbed her to him, lifting her off her feet, kissing her wet face.

  “I love you, love you,” he murmured over and over. “Are you all right? Honey, are you all right?”

  “I’m all right. I’m all right, now. Don’t leave me, Johnny.” She clung to him as if she would never let him go.

  “I’ll not leave you …ever. Sweetheart…are you sure you’re all right? It’s been so long—” He looked down into her face. “I’ve been out of my mind.”

  Men crowded the hallway outside the room. Johnny’s smile spread all over his face as he turned to tell them she was all right. From the shelter of her husband’s arms, Kathleen saw first her uncle Hod, then her uncle Tom. Tears flowed as she kissed each of them. Barker, Pete, and then the sheriff filed in. They looked around the luxurious room at the top of the old house with amazement.

  “I’ve a lot to tell you,” Kathleen said, seeing the astonished looks on their faces. “The man on the floor is Theodore Nuding. Be careful when you lift the pillow and don’t prick yourself with the needle. I shoved it back at him before he could stick me with, it. Whatever’s in it killed him.”

  “He doesn’t look like
anyone I’ve seen before,” the sheriff said.

  “He was the man in the tweed coat, Johnny.” Kathleen snuggled closer after Johnny opened his coat and folded it and his arms around her. “He said he killed Gabe Thomas and Mr. Cole. I’ll tell you everything, but…please take off the chain so we can go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Pte drove away from the Clifton house with Tom and Barker crowded in beside him. Johnny and Kathleen, with their arms around each other, sat in the backseat of the Nash. Hod and the sheriff stayed at the Clifton house to wait for the undertaker.

  “There are some valuable things here,” Hod said, picking up the emerald necklace Kathleen had thrown down on the dressing table. “All this stuff should be loaded up in some of the boxes we found in the shed and taken away for safekeeping until it’s decided what to do with it. Folks will be coming to look the place over.”

  “I told your brother to send out my deputy. No use telling Johnny to do anything. His head was in the clouds.” Sheriff Carroll shook his gray head. “Can’t blame him a doggone bit. That boy was half out of his mind.”

  “This is one of the strangest cases I’ve ever come across. Kathleen said he never hurt her and that he didn’t as much as hint of anything sexual with her. He bought all this in her size and in colors to suit her.”

  “He did all this work here. If he’d hired anyone from town, word would have got out. How in the hell did he do it?” Sheriff Carroll looked down into the still face on the floor.

  “It’s odd that he seemed to worship her as an idol. Maybe after we read his journal we’ll understand it.”

  “He sure had me fooled. I never thought that he was anything but what he said he was, a weather observer.”

  Pete began to honk the horn as he approached the crossroads. The men who waited there and the women who had not yet left after serving the noon meal lined up alongside the road to cheer. Pete slowed the car to a crawl as they passed. Kathleen waved with tears streaming down her face. The car stopped only long enough to let Barker come out to thank the men who had donated their time to search for Kathleen.

 

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