I stared painfully into my mother’s eyes. “Mom, I lied to you,” I said softly as I began to tremble.
My mother stared at me, puzzled. “Honey, what are you talking about? You lied to me about what?”
“You know the lady that was found on Harlow’s farm a few years ago?” I could feel the sweat on my neck and back as my bones shook.
“Yes, of course I remember.” My mother tilted her head slightly as her eyebrows twisted.
“I’ve been keeping this a secret for so long. I never told anybody.”
“What secret? I don’t understand.” My mother’s hand was shaking as she reached over and grabbed my hand. “Honey, please tell me what this is all about?” she asked.
“I’m trying to tell you, I was there,” I sobbed. “I was there that day. I was in the woods on Harlow’s farm when he killed her!”
My mother’s face drained of color. Her face was white and filled with horror, a look that I’d never seen before. She placed her hand over her mouth. “You were there?” she cried out.
I nodded as I trembled. “I was there setting my trap. I saw the couple coming so I hid. There was a huge rock there so I hid behind it. I didn’t know what they were going to do. So I just stayed there.”
“Did they see you?” she asked with tears running down her cheeks.
“No, but when it was all over, she was lying there dead. I waited until he was gone, and when I ran out of there… the man was standing by the road. He saw me! So I ran away as fast as I could.”
Relief ran through my body. My entire soul seemed to lighten. The weight of the dark secret was no longer with me. I felt better. But I realized that wasn’t all that mattered. Tears were streaming down my mom’s face. It pained me to see her cry. It was then that I realized that the only thing I did by telling her was pass the burden of that day on to her. I regretted telling her. She’d had enough pain to carry over the years.
“Did he chase you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I ran through the field toward the next farm house and hid in the woods behind a barn. Luckily, there were two dogs outside barking, and then the owner came out of the house. I watched the man walk to the edge of the field looking for me, but I don’t think he saw me. With all of the barking and the owner outside, he gave up. I watched him run down the road toward Batavia. I thought that if I told anyone he would find out who I was and come after me.”
My mother threw her arms around me and just held me. “Oh honey, I am so sorry that you had to go through that. This breaks my heart that you had to witness such an evil act. All I ever wanted to do was to protect you—protect you from anything that would cause you harm or suffering. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She continued to weep.
“It’s okay,” I said as I tried to console her and regain my emotions. “I tried to forget about it. And then today, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to tell you. But I don’t want you to be upset. I’m okay.”
“And I thank God for that…” My mother looked me in the eye for a moment as she began to gain her composure. Then she reached over and gently brushed my hair away from my eyes. Her mind seemed to be on recall. “This is all becoming clear to me. That was the real reason you wanted to go to the viewing, right?”
“Yeah, I wanted to see if they fixed her face.” I nodded. “And today, after seeing Florence’s face… the whole side of it was crushed like the lady in the woods.” I brushed my hand over the side of my face as I looked over at her. “Do you forgive me?”
“Forgive you? Sweetheart, you don’t need to ask for forgiveness! Of course, I forgive you!” My mother began to sob again and threw her arms around me “My baby! You must have been so scared.”
“I really thought if word got out, my name would have been in the newspaper and then he’d find out where I lived and then—”
“No, no. I wouldn’t have let that happen,” she assured me as she wiped her tears away. “Did you see his face?”
I shook my head. “No, I really didn’t. I was behind the rock and he had his back toward me, so I really never got a good look at him. And when he was chasing me, I didn’t look back at him. I just kept running.”
“But you saw him standing at the edge of the road… How close was he to you?”
I thought for a moment. “He was maybe a baseball field away, or maybe a little less.”
“Being that far away, I guess neither of you really saw each other’s faces that well.”
“Back then, I never thought about how far away he was from me. I just knew that he saw me. And I was scared!”
“Of course you were. Anyone would have been. I’m just so glad he never saw you hiding in those woods behind that barn.”
“I know, those dogs saved me,” I said softly. “Do you think I should tell the sheriff?”
“Now, let’s think about this for a minute. Do you have anything to tell them that will help catch him? Did they use any names?”
“Well, no. I don’t remember hearing any names.”
My mother sat quietly for a moment, shaking her head. “I remember hearing about people who reported that they saw the couple. Those reports didn’t help the authorities find the man that was responsible. So you weren’t the only one who saw them, honey.” She reached over and grasped my hand.
“So you’re saying it’s probably not going to help at all?”
“I really don’t think so. Joseph told me that they came in on a train from Buffalo, but that doesn’t mean that they were from Buffalo. They could have ridden in from another city and switched trains in Buffalo. No one knows. It is still a mystery.”
I nodded.
“Even with all the news that covered all of western New York, and even beyond, no one came forward to identify her. There were people who drove for more than an hour or two to attend the viewing, and still no one identified her. And now with what happened to Florence, be careful who you tell. Helen is one of my closest friends, but you know how she is with news.”
I nodded and sat silent for a minute as I imagined Helen knocking on every door in Linden spreading the news. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone else. But I’m sure I’ll eventually tell Valerie. Right now, I think it would upset her even more… Are you going to tell Joseph?”
“I’m sure I’ll end up telling him at some point. If you told me something that would help the investigation, such as a name, I would have you talk to him tonight. But since you do not have any information that would help, there isn’t any reason to connect your name with a news story that happened over five years ago.”
I looked over at my mother. “I have to tell you something else,” I said quietly.
Her eyes revealed her concern. She took a deep breath. “Yes, what is it?”
“The other night at the Mill, Anton told us that he was angry about Florence reporting him to the dry agents.”
“Martha told me about that. Florence blamed Anton for her brother’s consumption.”
“Yeah, but it’s what he said to us,” I said as my pulse began to speed up.
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Someone ought to kill her.’ And now, someonedid kill her.”
Her eyes widened. “What? He said that?”
“He sure did.”
“I know that he’s been in trouble with the law before, but do you think he would actuallymurder someone?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I would hope not, but I really don’t know.”
My mother eyes turned serious. “Listen to me honey; people say things out of anger all the time. And then again, you never know what someone is really capable of. Knowing what Anton said, you need to give the authorities this information, okay? You can’t keep this one a secret.”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I replied softly, feeling a little afraid of Anton finding out I told the authorities about what he said. What if hedid do it?
“Who else was there that heard him say it?”
“Senior, Cliff, and Leon al
l heard him.”
“If they all heard it, there is no doubt in my mind that everyone in Linden already knows what he said.” She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sure by the time you talk to the authorities, they will have already heard it a number of times.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I just didn’t want to be the only one telling them because maybe… I don’t know what Anton is capable of.”Was he fiend enough? There were only two people who knew that answer, and one of them wasn’t breathing.
“All right.” My mother rose up from the sofa, kissed me on the forehead, and then headed back into the kitchen.
It was then that I heard a quick knock at the door.
“I’ll answer it.” I grabbed the gun and swiftly walked into the kitchen, unlocked the door, and opened it.
“Martin, come in,” my mother said from behind me as she tried to find an appropriate expression for his call. Justice of the Peace Martin Nelson lived two doors down from the post office and not far from Florence’s house.
“No thank you, Ella, I just stopped by for a minute,” he said as he glanced over at me and the shotgun in my hand. “I know that everyone is really shaken up and scared, and they’ve been dusting off their guns like you all did. I can’t say I blame you or anyone else. My reason for calling is to let the neighbors know what happened, if they don’t already know, and also that there’s been an arrest.”
My eyes widened. I slowly looked back at my mother standing by the sink. Our eyes met.Anton.
Ten
“They made an arrest?” The words darted out of my mouth.
“Martin, please come in and sit down.” My mother gestured toward the seat.
“Just for a minute or two,” Martin said as he stepped inside and sat down at the table. My mother sat down across from him. Her eyes sharpened as she sat forward. “I don’t know many of the details, but this is what I can tell you: shortly after they removed Florence’s body, a couple of the neighbors reported to one of the troopers that they saw three Negroes walking past Florence’s house late yesterday afternoon. Using their description, the troopers found one of them in the area, not far from the county home, and brought him in.”
“Do they think that they were the ones who killed Florence?” I asked as I sat down next to him at the table.
“Well, I don’t know. The Negro man was taken to jail, and they’re looking for the other two, so I assume they’re suspects,” Martin replied. “Like I said, I don’t have all the details.”
“Well, we really appreciate you stopping by to give us the news,” my mother said.
“We all have the right to protect ourselves,” Martin nodded in agreement. “Especially with the county home just down the road. We don’t know what kind of trouble one of the residents could bring us.” Martin rose from his seat. “Well, I better be on my way.”
“Thank you again, for stopping over,” my mother said.
“Yeah. Thank you for letting us know about the arrest,” I added.
Martin opened up the door. “I’ll give you a call if I hear any more news. And say your prayers for Florence and her brothers.”
“We will,” my mother replied.
Martin shut the door behind him.
“Three Negroes?” My mother shook her head in disbelief. “I wasn’t expecting him to say that.”
“Neither was I.” I turned around and left the kitchen, lay down on the sofa, and shut my eyes.
“Ella!” I heard Helen’s voice over the knocking on the door.
I rushed into the kitchen and opened the door. Helen and Travis were standing on the porch.
“Hi, there, Fritzy,” Helen said. She held her knitted, gray shawl together at her chest.
“Honey, who is it?” my mother yelled down the stairs.
“Helen and Travis,” I replied, gestured for them to come in, and shut the door.
“I’ll be right down,” my mother said.
“Hey, there, young man.” Travis removed his hat, exposing the white halo of hair that matched his long white mustache that curled up on both ends. He set his hat on the hook by the door before shaking my hand. He helped Helen remove her shawl and placed it on the back of the chair. He then pulled the seat out for Helen, and she sat down.
Helen turned to me. “Did you hear about Florence?” she asked. “They found her in her cellar, beaten!”
“Yeah, we know. It’s really awful and scary. I mean, just down the road from us.”
“Normally, I would have come over for tea by myself, but after Doty called me with the dreadful news about Florence, I was too afraid to walk alone. So I asked Martha if she wanted to come with me when she stopped over to get her milk, but she said that she was tired and wasn’t feeling up to it.”
I heard my mother coming down the stairs. She entered the kitchen and glanced over at Helen. “Hi, Helen.”
“Hi, Ella,” Helen replied.
She walked over to Travis sitting at the table. “Hi, Travis. It’s good to see you,” my mother said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Mom placed the tea kettle onto the stove and sat down across from him.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Travis said. “Had to escort my wife. It ain’t safe out there.”
“No, it’s not… No, it’s not safe at all.” My mother agreed. Sadness was woven through her faded words.
The table felt a little crowded, so I hopped up on the kitchen counter.
“Ella, I’ll get the cups for you,” Helen said and rose from the table. She turned to me. “Would you like some tea, Fritzy?”
“No, thank you. I don’t drink tea,” I replied as the kettle began to whistle.
Helen poured the hot water into the three cups as Travis pulled out his pipe. They were all so quiet—too quiet for a visit, especially from Helen who never ran out of people to talk about.
“I am still shaking,” Helen blurted out. “Just down the road.” Helen gestured eastward. “Florence Kingsley, murdered in her own cellar.”
“On Fritzy’s way home, he saw all the cars at Florence’s, and that’s when he found out what had happened. He came home and told me and Valerie,” my mother said.
“Helen was waiting for me at the door, holding her iron skillet,” Travis said as he puffed his pipe. His smoke curled above them, filling the kitchen with a pleasing smoky cherry aroma.
“Can you blame her?” my mother asked, taking a sip of tea.
“No,” Travis replied, puffing away on his pipe. “Just never expected such a thing, that’s all.”
“Gloria called Martha at the store around dinner time, and then later stopped over to our house, asking if we had any idea where Florence was. And never once did I think that… that… they’d find her dead. Let alone beaten to death,” Helen said in a shaky voice and watery eyes.
“Did Martin stop by to tell you that they made an arrest?” my mother asked.
“No, he didn’t. They made an arrest?” Helen’s eyes widened as she held her cup near her lips.
My mother nodded. “I guess a couple neighbors reported seeing three Negro men walking past Florence’s house yesterday afternoon. They found one of the men right away and arrested him. They’re still looking for the other two.”
“It’s those vagrants that get off the train here.” Travis dragged from his pipe and shook his head. “They’re no good!”
“Travis, do you have a gun at home to keep close by?” I asked.
“Naw, I ain’t never been a good shot. I must have something in the barn… Something better than an iron skillet.” Travis glanced over at Helen, who looked as if she had sipped vinegar. Sweet smoke swirled around the light and melted into the haze that filled the kitchen. “I think I have an old adz handle in the barn somewhere. I’ll keep it close, case one of those vagrants shows up at our door,” Travis said. “That’ll hurt ’em good.”
“Well, that’s something at least,” I said.
“Yeah, you ain’t never know. One mig
ht try to rob you. They ain’t got nothing but the rags hanging off ’em,” Travis said.
“Well, being up on the hill, we have a good view of everyone walking this way. I’m going to keep a closer eye on who doesn’t belong here. I never paid much attention to the vagrants before,” my mother said. “They never seemed to bother anyone.”
I pulled out my pocket watch. 8:20. I hopped off the counter and opened the icebox. I pulled out the jug of milk, poured myself a glass, and walked into the parlor. All that was left in the fireplace was burning coals, so I added two more birch logs, lay on the sofa, and shut my eyes while my mother visited with Helen and Travis.
I was awakened by the ring of the phone, and then I heard my mother talking in the kitchen. I knew it was Joseph by the tone of her voice. I shut my eyes again and drifted off.
“Honey,” my mother said, shaking my shoulder. “Why don’t you go upstairs and go to bed?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at her. “What time is it?” I asked with a yawn.
“It’s a little after nine. Why don’t you go upstairs and go to bed. You’ll be more comfortable.”
I sat up. “Where’s the gun?”
“Right here.” She handed it to me. “I’ll keep one down here with me.”
I looked over and saw the other gun leaning against the wall. “Aren’t you going to go to bed too?”
“In a little while. Joseph is just leaving the office and driving out here.”
“This late?”
My mother nodded. “Yes. He should be here in about twenty minutes.”
“All right, I’ll go to bed.” I rolled off the sofa. “Are the doors locked?”
“Yes, we’re all locked up.”
I headed upstairs with my gun in hand. I set my gun on the floor and climbed into bed. A little while later, I woke up and heard Joseph and my mother talking. They were keeping their voices down so I couldn’t really hear what they were talking about. I was too tired to leave my bed, so I turned over and closed my eyes, trying not to think about Florence.
Shadow by the Bridge Page 8