The Governor’s Sons

by McKenzie, Maria

  “I got it!” Libby snapped, as she ran a brush through her hair. “You’ll have to hide in my closet, so get moving!”

  Caldwell slipped on his boxer shorts, grabbed his clothes, and then wedged himself into her closet.

  Libby hastily made the bed, then rushed to the kitchen to turn off the water. She tried to look pleasant as she opened the door. “Why Governor, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  “That’s alright.”

  “Won’t you come in, and have a seat?” She motioned Ash to the couch. “Can I get you something, coffee or tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Ash said, as he seated himself.

  Libby cringed when she saw a wet stain, apparently a remnant of last night’s passion, glistening at the opposite end of the couch. “I—uh--made a batch of apple cinnamon muffins yesterday. I can warm some in the oven for you.”

  “Miss Willis, I’m not here to sip tea and eat muffins, I’m here to talk about Otis’s murder.”

  Libby said nothing as she sat down on a chair next to the couch. “Of course.” Looking down, she suddenly noticed a scattering of buttons on the floor, one stuck to a piece of gum. She bent down compulsively to collect them.

  “I—I dropped my mending,” she said, stuffing them into her pocket. The button stuck to the gum now adhered to her finger. Inside her pocket, she struggled to unstick it, then primly crossed her hands in her lap.

  “You got yourself a lawyer yet?”

  “Governor, why, pray tell, would I need a lawyer?” After saying this, to Libby’s horror, she realized the tips of Caldwell’s large black shoes were peeking from beneath the couch.

  “Because you’re a suspect.”

  “What?” Libby asked incredulously, forgetting about the shoes.

  “The last person with a murder victim is always a suspect.”

  Libby’s hands shook as she reached for her cigarettes. “Cigarette?” She offered the pack to Ash.

  “No thanks. I don’t smoke. You shouldn’t either. Those blasted things’ll kill you.”

  “Governor, why—why would I be suspected of killing the man I loved?” Her hands trembled even more as she lit the cigarette, then took a deep drag. “Why—Otis was my very life.” She forced a smile.

  “Miss Willis, Otis was by no means the sharpest tool in the drawer, but he was a decent human being. Just what were you using him for?”

  “Why, sir—what—whatever do you mean?”

  “You can cut the moonlight and magnolia crap because I’m not buyin’ it. You’re responsible for his murder aren’t you?”

  “How dare you insult my—my delicate sensibilities!”

  “I didn’t know cold blooded murderers had ‘delicate sensibilities.’”

  “Governor! Why are you hurling such heinous accusations at me?”

  “This is only the beginning. Now,” Ash stood, “if you’ll excuse me.” As he approached the door, he stopped in mid-stride, then turned to her. “You go ahead and retain a lawyer. Good day, Miss Willis.”

  After Ash left her apartment, Libby walked to the window and watched him leave the premises, along with the two dark suited men. As soon as his car was out of sight, she opened the closet door.

  Caldwell emerged from behind a thick wall of clothes, a reckless smile on his face. “Baby, you are in trouble.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Look, this just means we’ll have to work fast. Once Hall’s dead, the Organization can make you disappear. With my help, bumping off that nigger’ll be easy. The big boys up top will be pleased, and,” he winked, “I won’t take any of the credit. They’ll set you up somewhere else with a new name and everything—and more assignments. You’ll just have to learn not to be so—trigger happy.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Use the kid.”

  “But his parents don’t want him around me anymore.”

  “We can still use him, just hear me out,” Caldwell said. “The Governor’s gonna have a tail on you, so I’ll do all the legwork. Now, the kid hates Hall, right?” Libby nodded. “Okay, so I plant evidence that shows the boy wants to kill him. Like maybe put some bomb building stuff in his car and some threatening notes for Hall. I tip off the FBI—and bingo! That’ll stir things up at the Governor’s Mansion.” Caldwell laughed. “And it’ll take away any interest from you in lover boy’s murder.”

  “Just how do you think you can get to the kid’s car?”

  “Don’t worry, I can do it.”

  “And what makes you think that kid won’t point the authorities right back in my direction?”

  “Just remember, from now on you’re being watched. I can guarantee you’ll be tailed starting sometime today. So just act like a little old schoolteacher on summer break. Then you won’t look suspicious, and they won’t be able to pin anything on you. Now, while there’s all this commotion about the Governor’s kid, I move in and kill Hall. I can make it look like the boy set the whole thing up.”

  “But the kid’s still gonna think I’m involved—and so will his parents.”

  “No they won’t—as soon as Hall is dead, the kid won’t be around either.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The kid’ll leave a note detailing everything. He’ll be so upset about murdering Hall, that he’ll take his own life. That’s what it’ll look like, anyway.”

  Chapter 27

  Leigh Ann couldn’t sleep. The glowing clock on her night stand read 11:30. She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Maybe JoBeth was still awake. She liked to stay up late reading.

  Leigh Ann got out of bed and peeked in the hallway. Sure enough, she could see light shining from under her sister’s door. She tiptoed down the hall and knocked.

  “It’s me,” Leigh Ann whispered.

  “Come on in,” JoBeth said.

  Leigh Ann walked in and shut the door. She plopped into an overstuffed chair with an ottoman and put her feet up.

  “You look awful.” JoBeth smiled. Even though it was late, JoBeth managed to look fresh and beautiful in a short cotton nightgown with her thick blond locks tumbling over her shoulders. She lay propped in her canapé bed, with long legs crossed, reading a Harlequin Romance.

  Leigh Ann sighed. “I can’t sleep.”

  JoBeth put her novel aside, then reached down and pushed a basket filled with books toward her sister. “Want one?”

  Leigh Ann quickly sorted through the selection of historicals and medical romances. “No thanks.”

  “Are you sure? These always help me fall asleep, and they all have happy endings.”

  Leigh Ann clicked her tongue. “Life isn’t always about happily ever afters. Besides, I’d rather live romance, not read about it. You’re just around too many dead people working in that morgue. Experiencing real life and being around living, breathing people is more exciting for me.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re all different. Life would be pretty boring if everybody wanted to work in a morgue.” JoBeth laughed, but Leigh Ann barely cracked a smile. “Okay, sis, what’s wrong?”

  “Talk about boring—I hate working at the State Law Library! It’s so quiet, it might as well be a morgue. My supervisor even looks like a zombie. He’s pale and thin—reminds of— ” she snapped her fingers trying to remember, “you know, what’s his name?”

  “Who?”

  “On ‘The Addams Family’.”

  “Lurch?” JoBeth laughed.

  “Yeah. I wish I could laugh. I’m one floor above Daddy’s office. He could keep tabs on me every minute if he wanted to. And all day long, all I do is research.”

  “Part of being a lawyer is doing research.”

  “But not all of it! I want to be like Bella Abzug, out there fighting on the front lines. JoBeth—I just can’t take it anymore! And I know why Daddy put me there. I’m not stupid! It’s not because I want to be a lawyer. It’s so I’ll find a husband. But I’ve had it. I’m gonna quit!”

  “Quit? What are you going to d
o for the rest of the summer?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Harland Hall’s office has been up and running for what—about--”

  “About two weeks.”

  “Yeah…” Leigh Ann gazed up at the ceiling for a moment then looked at her sister. “JoBeth—this might sound crazy—but when you first met him, did you feel some kind of—vibe, or something?”

  “You’re not crazy! And now I know I’m not! Didn’t he remind you of—”

  “Uncle Heath!” the girls said together, then burst out laughing.

  Leigh Ann sighed. “He’s absolutely dreamy.”

  “Yeah, absolutely,” JoBeth agreed.

  “Since I want to be a Civil Rights attorney—I’m going to ask him if he’d like my help. I won’t ask for pay, I just want to volunteer.”

  “But—Leigh Ann—you can’t! Daddy won’t let you. He hates the idea of you working for Civil Rights. He’s afraid for your safety.”

  “Don’t tell him, okay? Once Mr. Hall gives me the go ahead, I’ll quit the library. Then I’ll tell Daddy.”

  “So, when do you plan on talking to Harland?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe some time this week.”

  “Leigh Ann—this isn’t a very good idea. I think Daddy’s right. It’ll be too dangerous.”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it! As a matter of fact, so I won’t put it off and lose my nerve, I’ll go see him tomorrow!”

  “Leigh Ann, you never lose your nerve. But—but does it—um--have to be tomorrow?”

  Leigh Ann raised one eyebrow as she looked at her sister. “Why not?”

  ****

  1229 Burkette Street. Leigh Ann double checked the address to Harland’s office in Clarkstown. It was written on the corner of an envelope. The return address from a thank you note Harland had sent to her father.

  From the State House, Leigh Ann had ridden the bus the short distance to downtown, and then walked to the Negro business district. Leigh Ann could accomplish her mission during lunch hour. She didn’t plan on eating anything; she was too nervous. Even the tempting aroma of frying fish and hushpuppies didn’t faze her as she passed by a seafood eatery.

  Leigh Ann had rehearsed what she’d say since early in the morning. But there was method to her madness. Leigh Ann didn’t just want to be a civil rights attorney--she wanted to be near Harland Hall. Of course she couldn’t come right out and say that.

  She hoped that, perhaps he’d sense it. Maybe he felt the same way, too. But he couldn’t openly express his feelings—not here—not in the South. Leigh Ann, however, would assure him that it was alright, and that a relationship with her was a possibility, if he wanted to pursue it. And why wouldn’t he? Together they could fight for the Civil Rights Cause. And when Harland believed he’d accomplished all he could—then perhaps, one day--they’d move away from the South--and away from Mom and Daddy, who’d probably disown her. But Leigh Ann didn’t care.

  Her heart beat wildly at the thought of seeing Harland again, and at the future prospect of actually working by his side. Walking through the Negro business district, she saw several well dressed colored professionals, as well as blue collar workers walking quickly through the streets. The men took pains not to look in her direction, but she did get a few questioning glimpses from the smartly dressed colored women.

  Leigh Ann wore dark sunglasses and her auburn hair piled high to look more sophisticated, and more like Audrey Hepburn. She didn’t think anyone would recognize her. Her short sleeved linen suit, navy blue with a large collar, had three large buttons down the front of the jacket. The narrow skirt fell just above the knee with a slit in back. A navy blue handbag and matching pumps completed her ensemble, but she doubted her subdued attire was the cause of any looks thrown her way. She knew it was because not many whites frequented this part of town.

  Leigh Ann lifted her head a little higher. “Well,” she said to herself, “they’d better get used to seeing me around here.” If Lance were alive, he’d be so proud of her. And so would all her friends at Antioch. They’d all talked about what they’d do for black equality, but she was actually doing something.

  This was Leigh Ann’s first time in the Negro business district, and she was surprised to see it as a thriving community filled with shops, restaurants, offices, a jazz club, movie theater and hotel. The last address she’d read was 1225. Now she slowed her pace as she approached Harland’s office. It was a three story building constructed of light brown brick.

  She removed her sunglasses and paused for a moment outside the glass door. After checking her reflection, she forcefully pushed it open. Glancing at the envelope remnant again, she read Suite 7, then stuffed it and her sunglasses into her purse. The office listing in the lobby indicated his office to be on the second floor. She approached the elevator and pushed the button—and waited. It was taking too long, so Leigh Ann found the stairs. The staccato rhythm of her steps echoed loudly in the stairwell. Once on the second floor, she walked quickly down the hall. Suite 7 was the last office on the right.

  She stood breathless outside the door for just a moment. Once composed, she strode inside, immediately noticing the smell of metal office furniture and typewriter ink. She was greeted by a pretty brown skinned girl who sat at a metal reception desk. Two large windows were to the left, both open wide. A fan sat in one blowing at low speed.

  “Hello.” Although the girl smiled pleasantly, Leigh Ann felt threatened. “May I help you?” she asked.

  Once Leigh Ann saw a wedding band on the girl’s left hand, she relaxed. “Yes. I’d like to see Mr. Hall.”

  “May I tell him who’s calling?”

  “Yes. Leigh Ann Kroth.”

  “Oh.” The girl smiled again. Her teeth were very white and perfectly straight. “Are you the Governor’s daughter, too?”

  Leigh Ann was taken off guard by this question. “Yes. I’m his younger daughter. Why do you ask?”

  Miss Perfect Smile hesitated. “I saw your sister once in person. You don’t look at all like her. Now, I’ll buzz Mr. Hall for you.” The girl pressed the intercom. “Mr. Hall, a Miss Leigh Ann Kroth is here to see you.”

  Harland didn’t respond right away. “Thank you, Angela. I’ll—I’ll be right out.”

  “Miss Kroth,” the girl, Angela, said, “why don’t you have a seat?” She motioned toward some metal office chairs with green vinyl upholstery in the small waiting area.

  “Thank you.” Leigh Ann sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs. The walls around her were bare except for posters of Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass. She looked at the selection of periodicals on a scarred wooden table. Issues of Ebony, Jet, and The Crier lay neatly arranged. Just as she was about to choose one, Harland walked out to greet her.

  “Miss Kroth, this is a surprise.” He smiled as he extended his hand. He wore no jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. The world stopped—or at least it seemed to stop, as Leigh Ann stood up. His handshake was firm and strong, and he looked even more gorgeous than she remembered. When he released her hand, the world finally began to move again, although only in slow motion.

  When Leigh Ann failed to say anything, Harland said, “Are you enjoying your summer?”

  Leigh Ann nodded. “Yes.”

  “I assume you’re now an expert in legal research.” Harland smiled.

  Leigh Ann laughed and shook her head. “Hardly.”

  “So, what brings you here today?”

  She couldn’t answer that with one word, and she couldn’t believe she was so tongue tied. “Uh—I,” Leigh Ann stammered as she struggled to speak coherently, then felt humiliated when she saw Miss Perfect Smile Angela trying not to laugh. I’m the Governor’s daughter, Leigh Ann reminded herself. After taking a deep breath to restore her dignity, she self assuredly said, “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

  “Of course,” Harland said kindly.

  Leigh Ann almost sneered as she looked toward Angela. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
>
  “No, no, not at all. And by the way, Miss Kroth, this is my cousin, Angela. She’s agreed to work as my secretary.”

  “How do you do,” Leigh Ann said crisply as they shook hands.

  “It’s a pleasure.” Angela smiled, as though in on a secret.

  “Let me show you to my office.” Harland escorted Leigh Ann through a door behind the reception area. “It’s not fancy. The furniture is cheap, most of it used, but it serves its purpose.”

  A large oak desk was situated in front of two open windows, bare except for the partially lowered shades. Leigh Ann could see the expansive view of the business district below. A metal bookcase leaned against a wall. Only half full, two boxes of books sat on the floor waiting to be shelved.

  “Please, have a seat.” He directed her to another set of uncomfortable metal chairs in front of his desk.

  Leigh Ann sat down. She didn’t mind the discomfort in his presence. Gazing at the oak desk, it appeared familiar to her, and didn‘t look cheap. “This is beautiful,” she said, smoothing her hand over the polished surface. “It reminds me of—”

  Harland laughed as he sat behind the desk. “So you recognize it? It was your father’s. He told me he’d put it in storage after buying new furniture for his law office several years ago. When he asked if I wanted it, I jumped at the offer. But he wouldn’t let me pay him. He insisted I take it as a gift.” Harland smiled. “Your father’s a good man.”

  And he’d die if he knew I were here, Leigh Ann thought, while smiling a cardboard smile.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Harland offered.

  “No, thank you.”

  “How are your parents?”

  “They’re just fine.”

  “That’s good. Be sure to tell them I said hello.”

  “I will.”

  “So, Miss Kroth,” Harland sat back in his chair, “what would you like to talk to me about?”

  Leigh Ann noticed a copy of The Negro and Urban Change on his desk blotter. “Oh, Mr. Hall, I’ve been wanting to read that book.”

  He pushed it toward her. “You can have this one. I planned on starting it today. But,” Harland nodded toward the bookcase, “I have another copy packed over there in one of those boxes.” Leigh Ann thanked him. “Perhaps we can discuss it sometime.” Harland smiled.