“I’d arrest a man at his own funeral.” Jackson prodded Thompson with his pistol. “Now step away and take it slowly. I’ve got another handful of men behind those tombs and six more standing by the hearse. You behave yourself and your men can just disappear. We don’t want them. We want you.”
As Thompson began to walk slowly away from the coffin, one of his sisters cried out to him, but he shook his head. “Take care of Alma,” he said, indicating the other sister.
The crowd of mourners stood in quiet shock as Jackson led Thompson up the short hill to the line of carriages and the hearse.
“Where are you taking me?” Thompson asked.
“The train station. I’ve got a dozen soldiers to escort you to Washington, D.C., where you’ll stand trial.”
“I didn’t betray my country,” he said bitterly. “My country betrayed me.”
“You’ll have a turn to speak your piece.” Jackson nodded to the soldier who appeared from behind the hearse. “Now, come on, I’ll walk you into town. You’ve got a train to catch and then I’m getting the hell home.”
“Wait just one minute. Let me see if I understand this,” Judge Mortimer said to Thomas as he stared at the documents spread across his desk.
Taye sat beside Mr. Gallier in the judge’s private chambers off the courtroom and tried to remain calm. Since the judge had not returned when first expected, Taye had spent a full week in the jailhouse. It was not so much the accommodations that had been difficult to deal with, as it was not knowing what would happen next. And now that a decision was about to be made, Taye was terrified.
“We are looking for Taye Campbell,” Judge Mortimer said, “and this young lady was identified by the witness to the murder as being Taye Campbell.”
“That’s correct, your honor,” Thomas said.
“The witness knew Miss Campbell intimately,” the prosecutor explained. “The very idea that this might not be Miss Campbell is absurd, your honor.”
“What is absurd,” the judge said, not looking up, “is that my desk is groaning with cases, and you are wasting my time, Mr. Johnson.” He shuffled through the documents once more, picking one up to read. “Mr. Gallier?”
“Sir?” Gallier stood, his hat and cane in hand.
“This is your niece, Miss Minette Dubois?” Mortimer indicated Taye with a wave of his hand.
“Oui, your honor.”
“And not Taye Campbell?”
“With respect, Monsieur,” Gallier said, “I do not know this Taye Campbell. I came to Jackson to do business with my lawyer and brought my niece along so that she might see something of this fine country beyond my wife’s laundry.”
A smile twitched within the judge’s white beard. “I once had a young female cousin come stay with us. My wife worked her until her hands bled. She was gone in a month.”
Gallier chuckled as if he and the judge were old friends. “Oui, your honor. You understand perfectly, then.”
Mortimer glanced up at Thomas and the prosecuting attorney standing before him. “Gentlemen, according to the documentation before me, and Mr. Gallier’s photograph, we have no case against this woman because she is not Taye Campbell.”
“But your honor,” Mr. Johnson protested, “much of this so-called documentation is in French. I don’t know what it says. I haven’t had enough time to find a translator.”
The judge peered at the young lawyer. “I speak a little French, Mr. Johnson. What is your point?”
“How do we even know these documents are official and not…falsely produced?”
The judge picked up the papers and handed them across his desk to Thomas, then peered intently at Johnson. “Young man, did you by chance know Mr. Grant Campbell?”
“No, sir, I did not.”
“Then you are a fortunate man.” Judge Mortimer removed his spectacles, eyeing the prosecutor. “Mr. Johnson, in questioning your witness, Miss Campbell’s accuser, I find that she did not, in fact, witness the death of Grant Campbell. We do not know how he died because there was no eyewitness. Mrs. Logan reported her brother’s death at the time, making no such claim of murder, as claimed by your witness.”
“But your honor—”
Judge Mortimer held up one finger, silencing the lawyer. “If we have no claim but your client’s that Mr. Campbell was murdered, then we have no case against Miss Taye Campbell—” he glanced at Taye “—or the lovely Miss Dubois. Mademoiselle,” he said in what was obviously his best French.
Taye rose and held her hands so that no one would see them shaking. “Oui?”
“I apologize profusely for holding you so long in the jailhouse. I hope your accommodations were not too dreadful.”
Taye felt her heart skip a beat. He was going to dismiss the case against her. Praise God, he was going to set her free!
“You can go, mademoiselle. Please enjoy your stay in Jackson, and again, I apologize for any inconvenience we have caused.”
“Merci, merci, thank you, your honor,” Taye said in heavily accented English. She dipped a curtsy and accepted Gallier’s arm.
Judge Mortimer eyed Mr. Johnson still seated before his desk. “You are dismissed, sir, and in the future, let me suggest that you be more careful with the cases you bring before me. I do not appreciate my time being wasted in this manner.”
Seeming to sense when to concede, the young lawyer came out of his chair, documents tucked under his arm. “Thank you, your honor. Have a good day, your honor.” He hurried for the door.
Thomas, Mr. Gallier and Taye also moved toward the door, but the judge stopped them with one hand. “Please, if the three of you would remain just a moment.” He waited until the heavy oak door closed behind the prosecutor. “What I’m about to say is, of course, completely off the record. If you repeat this, I will deny it and all three of you will end up behind bars for one thing or another. However, let me say this—”
Taye gripped Gallier’s arm tightly.
“I do not know what took place the night Grant Campbell died, don’t care to know. As far as I am concerned, it was for the best. For now, there is no accusation against Taye Campbell. She is not a wanted woman.” The old judge met Taye’s gaze. “But some day, in the future, God knows who might turn up making accusations, truthful or not.” He looked to Thomas. “I think it would be best if Taye Campbell were not to reside in the state of Mississippi.”
Thomas nodded. “We understand completely, your honor. And should…should we locate Miss Campbell, I will make that recommendation.”
The judge reach for a pile of documents on his desk, effectively dismissing them. “Have a good day.”
It was not until they had withdrawn from the judge’s chambers that Taye, at last, breathed. “Thank you so much, Thomas,” she whispered as the prosecuting attorney brushed past them in a huff.
Thomas smiled kindly at her. “I did give a good performance, didn’t I?” he asked.
“That you did!” She let go of Gallier’s arm and lifted on her tiptoes to kiss Thomas’s cheek. “I’ll be staying at The Magnolia a few more days.” She cut her eyes to Gallier. “My uncle and I would like to invite you to dine with us this evening. I thought I might also invite a woman I met. She was most kind to me upon learning of my detention. A Mrs. Jackson Logan. I understand she is a family friend of yours.”
Thomas’s mouth twitched. “I should be honored to join you, mademoiselle.” He took her gloved hand and made an event of bowing to kiss it. And then he was off, and Taye realized that she suddenly had a full life ahead of her again. Now she couldn’t wait for it to begin.
“Fee!” Clyde barked from his rocking chair on the front porch. “Got a dang blasted soldier here lookin’ fer ya. Got officer stripes and everything,” he called in obvious derision.
Efia glanced up from the table where she was finishing up the little sacks Clyde had told her to sew from bigger flour and meal sacks. She didn’t know what they were for; they wouldn’t carry much. But she didn’t ask. She knew better. At
the sound of Clyde’s roar, she slapped the last sack down on the table and got out of the chair. A soldier? Was that what he had said? What soldier wanted her? She told that man she met at the general store that she didn’t sell tail.
“Fee!”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” she shouted back as she stepped out onto the porch and glanced up. She was startled by who it was. “Captain Grey.” She had no idea why he was here, but it couldn’t be for anything good.
The army captain remained seated on his horse. He eyed her harshly. “I just wanted you to know that we do not take kindly to false accusations.”
“I…I don’t understand,” Efia stumbled.
“I think you do. That wasn’t Taye Campbell. She’s apparently either run off with or been carried off by some redskin. That woman you identified in town was an innocent bystander.”
“No, it ain’t true. She was lyin’,” Efia protested weakly.
“Well, you can guess who the judge believed,” the captain said sarcastically. He glanced at Clyde who continued to rock in his chair, a pup on each knee. He looked back to Efia who was now trembling. “And I want you to know I’ll be keeping a close eye on you from now on. There’ve been rumors of you stealing in town.”
“I ain’t—”
He pointed an accusing finger, silencing her. “You make trouble for me, I can make trouble for you.”
Efia pressed her lips together in fear, her knobby knees trembling. She knew now that she should not have gone to the sheriff’s office. She hadn’t seen Taye kill Grant Campbell. Even if she had, he deserved to be shot. Deserved worse. It had been plain mean-spirited of her to accuse Taye in front of those men. And what had it gotten her? Taye still had the blue hat. And what did Efia have? Nuthin’, she thought miserably. Same thing she had had before, only now Captain Grey would have it out for her. If she got caught stealing, she knew she’d be in jail until her teeth rotted and fell from her head.
Efia just stared as the army captain rode off, then turned to go back into the shack to make something up to eat.
“What the hell’s wrong with ya?” Clyde slid both pups to the floor and got out of the chair, blocking her way to the door. Clyde’s tone was even nastier than usual.
“Ya run to town tellin’ tales that ain’t even true and bringing the soldiers to my house!”
Efia cringed. “She did kill ’im,” she murmured. “I swear on my ma’s grave.”
Clyde’s hairy arm snaked out, and he struck her hard across the cheek. “I got new things cookin’ here, don’t ya know that, girl? Got a way to make some serious money. I can’t be havin’ no soldiers stickin’ their noses round my place!”
“I’m sorry,” Efia whispered, hanging her head.
“Not half as sorry as you’re gonna be.” He grabbed one of the short plaits of hair that stuck out from her head and gave it a tug. “Now pack yer shit and get out of here!”
She looked up, tears filling her eyes, not so much because pulling her hair hurt, it had, but because she didn’t want to go. She had nowhere to go. “Clyde, please.”
“You hear me?” He let go of her hair and pulled back his leg to kick her.
She tried to step sideways out of his way, and as her foot came down, she heard one of the puppies yipe.
“You bitch!” Clyde exploded. “Ya hurt my pups, I swear to God almighty, I’ll kill ya!”
Efia stumbled backward and felt the porch rail press into the small of back. As Clyde threw himself at her, she ducked, folding herself in half, and fell backward off the porch.
“Ya come here, ya little puppy stompin’ bitch!” Clyde came lumbering down the steps after her.
Efia landed on her bare behind and scrambled up, pushing her flour sack dress down over her hips. Without looking in Clyde’s direction, she took off.
“Come back here, ya little burnt, baked bitch!” he bellowed in rage.
Efia darted around the back of the shack, around the outhouse, into the darkening woods, and ran for her life.
35
“What do you mean you won’t stay for supper?” Taye asked, taking both of Cameron’s hands in hers.
“I…I’m just not feeling well,” Cameron explained. “I’m going to go home.”
They stood in a small parlor off of Mrs. Pierre’s main dining room in The Magnolia Hotel where she was serving a small feast in celebration of Mr. Gallier’s niece being released.
“Are you ill?” Taye pressed her cool hand to Cameron’s forehead.
“Of course not.” Cameron ducked away in the manner she once had when they had been children and Taye tried to mother her. “It’s just that right now, the mere thought of baked quail has set my stomach on edge.”
Truthfully, she felt fine, she just needed to spend some time alone. Now that the farce of holding Taye for murder was over, her relieved mind turned again to thoughts of Jackson. She regretted not being more understanding when Jackson had left on his mission, more understanding all these months. She had always been so proud of how he had served their country, proud that her husband had actually played a part in preserving the Union. And how very proud, she thought sadly, her father would have been. What had she been thinking? she wondered ruefully. Hadn’t it been her father, Senator David Campbell, who had taught her by example about greater service to their country? What had made her think Jackson could walk away from his duties just because she needed him? What had made her think she was more important than the entire country? Cameron was beginning to realize how selfish she had been since Jackson returned from the war, and now that she was carrying his child again, she needed to put that selfishness aside. In the last few weeks, having Lacy to care for had brought her a strength and happiness she hadn’t known could come with the responsibility of another.
Cameron looked to Taye. “My stomach is a bit upset but it’s nothing that nine months shouldn’t cure.”
“So you’re expecting again?” Taye cried in delight, throwing her arms around her sister. “Oh, Cameron, I’m so happy for you! You see, I told you everything would work out. And what did Jackson say?” Taye stepped back. “I know he must be thrilled.”
Cameron lowered her gaze to the rose-embellished carpet, wishing now that she had told him before he left. “He doesn’t know.”
“Well, there will be plenty of time to tell him when he returns. Falcon sent word that they might be back as early as tomorrow. And then Falcon and I should go,” Taye said tenderly. “Despite my new name, and Jackson’s intention to lay Taye Campbell to rest as soon as possible, Thomas believes I should take the judge’s advice and leave the state immediately.”
“I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, but I’m so happy for you.” Cameron smiled bittersweetly. “Jackson says that Falcon is a good man and that he loves you and he’ll take good care of you.”
Taye caressed Cameron’s arm, her blue eyes suddenly glowing with excitement. “We’ve talked of going west. He says I should see the buffalo before they’re gone. And out there, things are different, people are different. It won’t matter that my mother was a slave and my father was the master of a plantation.” She clasped her hands wistfully. “Falcon says he will take me to see the Pacific Ocean. We’re going to his father’s hacienda in California Territory.”
“And will you marry?”
“He’s asked me,” Taye admitted hesitantly. “I need to think on it, but yes, I think we’ll marry.”
“A toast to my niece,” Mr. Gallier called from the dining room. “Where is that niece of mine, Minette?”
“A toast,” Thomas echoed.
Taye glanced in the direction of the dining room and lifted on her toes to kiss Cameron’s cheek. “Go home if you must, and rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” Cameron called after her.
Taye halted in the doorway and turned back. “Oh, dear. We sent Noah back to Atkins’ Way. He wasn’t returning until ten for you. You shouldn’t ride home alone in the dark. I can have
Mrs. Pierre fetch one of her male servants to escort you.”
“No.” Cameron waved a hand. “Then someone will have to bring him back. It’s not dark out yet so I’ll hurry home.”
Taye waved good-night, and Cameron left the private parlor and walked into the front lobby of The Magnolia. She was just pulling on her driving gloves when a woman approached her.
“Pardon me, but aren’t you Mrs. Logan?”
Cameron glanced up to see a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with rich black hair and ebony eyes, dressed in a lovely burgundy traveling gown. Cameron knew immediately that the woman was a stranger to the town, but she seemed oddly familiar.
“Yes, I’m Cameron Logan.” She pulled on her other glove, still trying to put an identity to the woman’s exquisite face. “What can I do for you?”
The exotic-looking woman offered her hand, which sparkled with bejeweled rings. “I’m Marie LeLaurie.”
As Cameron clasped the woman’s hand with her own, the name reverberated in her head. She lifted her gaze to the woman’s eyes and pulled her hand away as if she had been stung. “You were at the ball in my home in Baltimore,” she accused, recalling seeing her briefly talking to Jackson. Touching him.
Marie continued to smile, but it was not a smile of kindness.
LeLaurie. Cameron knew she had heard the name but how did she know it?
Then she remembered the two chattering gossips in the hat shop in Baltimore. The woman they had spoken of had been a Mrs. LeLaurie.
Cameron’s stomach clenched. This was the woman they had claimed Jackson had been having the affair with! That lying bastard.
“You know my husband, I believe,” Cameron murmured, her anger rising from the pit of her stomach upward until it made her cheeks burn.
“I do, indeed.” Marie held Cameron’s gaze meaningfully. “Quite well, it gives me pleasure to say.”
No further explanation was needed. Cameron knew as sure as she breathed that Jackson and this woman had been involved and perhaps still were. For an instant, the pain of his betrayal was so great that she couldn’t breathe. A part of her wanted to turn and run, but she was a Campbell, and Campbell women didn’t run.
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