by Sharon Sala
A slight shudder ran up the back of Mike’s neck. That was weird. It was like someone whispered in Prophet’s ear that he was there, only the old man was alone.
Prophet stood. His state of grace disappeared as he came toward Mike in a crooked lope.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“Is what true, Prophet?”
“Is the Devil dead? Did you really kill the ones responsible for Mr. Sadler’s death?”
Mike sighed. This would take a bit of explaining.
“Sit with me,” he said, pointing to the bench Prophet had just abandoned.
Prophet settled back down then scooted closer. Once again, Mike tried not to imagine the transfer of fleas and lice and began to explain.
“Yesterday we were in the act of arresting Mrs. Caulfield and her bodyguard for the murder of Jessup Sadler, but we didn’t kill them. The bodyguard shot Mrs. Caulfield then killed himself. It happened so fast we had no way to stop him.”
Prophet was rocking back and forth as he listened. When Mike announced both their deaths, he leaped to his feet and raised his hands to the heavens.
“Praise the Lord, I have been delivered! The Devil and his minions are dead. My time of penance is at an end!” Tears began running down his face as he grabbed Mike’s hand and shook it fiercely. “No more sackcloth and ashes. No more wandering in the wilderness. Thank you for hearing my words!”
“Yes, we heard you, Prophet. But now I want you to hear me.”
The old man stilled, focusing on Mike’s face as if he was listening for the voice of God.
Mike gripped Prophet by the shoulders to make his point. “There is no more Devil in Caulfield... at least not the one you’ve been preaching against. I know the Devil takes many forms, but so do God’s angels.”
“Yes, praise the Lord, yes, that is a fact!”
“Then hear me out, Prophet, because I don’t want to find out you’re still preaching against a family that no longer exists.”
Prophet frowned. “Not a family. The Devil! The Devil, I say!”
Mike resisted the urge to shake him for fear he’d break the fragile bones beneath the rags.
“Prophet... you’re not listening to me.”
“I’m listening, yes, I am.”
“Justin Caulfield helped us get the evidence we needed to make an arrest. He did it knowing his family might be incriminated and arrested. He did it with his heart breaking because he knew it was the right thing to do.”
Now Prophet was hanging on Mike’s every word.
“Justin Caulfield is a good man and not responsible for the actions of others, even if they were his parents. So, do we understand each other?”
Prophet put his hand over his heart as if he was about to take an oath.
“I hear. I understand. I will pray for him to be delivered from his sorrow.”
“Okay then,” Mike said. “And thank you again for your help. We might never have solved this without you. You are a hero, Prophet.”
The old man blinked, then bowed his head and walked away, one leg dragging, his shoulders slightly stooped from the weight of the world.
****
It was just after daybreak when Justin got up from the chair near Callie’s bed. She was still sleeping and he had calls to make before she woke.
He slipped out of the room and went down the hall to the waiting room to get a cup of coffee from the coffee machine. Thankful that the waiting room was empty, he took his first sip before he sat down to call Frances. He needed to catch her at home to prepare her for the day ahead.
He dialed her number then took another sip of coffee as he waited for her to answer. Just when he thought it was going to go to voicemail, he heard her voice.
“Hello?”
“Frances, it’s me. I’m sorry to disturb you at home and so early, but I need to fill you in on what’s coming up today.”
“Yes sir, let me get a pen.”
“No, it’s okay. You won’t need to write this down.”
“Oh, okay. What’s up?”
“I’m going to need you to cancel all my appointments for the next few days. I’m not sure when I’ll be back in the office. Also, you’ll probably be contacted right and left by newspapers and media. Tell them a statement will be issued later by the family.”
Frances gasped. “You’re scaring me, Mr. Caulfield. What’s happening?”
“My mother and her driver, Oral Newton, were arrested yesterday for the murder of Jessup Sadler. Before the police could take them both into custody, Newton shot my mother and then himself.”
“Oh dear God!”
Justin took a slow breath and closed his eyes, making himself focus on her voice and not the pain in his gut.
“I won’t go into the details. They’ll be public soon enough. But I need you to hold down the fort for me. Can you do that?”
“Yes sir. You can count on me, and I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“Yes, Frances, so am I.”
Justin’s hands were shaking when he hung up, but he made himself finish the coffee before he made the other call. It was more of a practical nature, but one that had to be faced. Last night while reading the local paper he’d noticed there were funerals being held today, which meant as long as there were bodies in the funeral home, they would have staff on duty night and day. He didn’t know who would be there, but at least his call would be answered.
“Edison Funeral Home. Truman speaking.”
Justin was relieved the person on duty was someone he knew.
“Truman, this is Justin Caulfield. I have a request.”
“Of course, Mr. Caulfield, how can I help?”
Justin prepared himself to skim through the worst of it again. “This isn’t a pretty story, but everyone will know soon enough.”
Now Truman was anxious. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with your dear daughter?”
“No, it’s not Callie. It’s my mother and I don’t need condolences. I just need your ear.”
“I’m listening.”
“Yesterday, as the police were in the act of arresting my Mother and her bodyguard, Oral Newton for the murder of Jessup Sadler, Newton killed her and then himself. And they were guilty. She confessed as much to me.”
“Dear Lord, why?” Truman said, and then realized he’d spoken aloud. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
Justin still had to face Callie and refused to let himself weep.
“The reason will be common knowledge soon enough. Once the police release her body, I want Edison Funeral Home to pick her up. But there will be no service, graveside or otherwise, and there will be no viewing, is that understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“She’ll be buried beside my father. They deserve each other.”
“Are you saying you don’t want a pastor to bless the interment?”
“There’s no need. She doesn’t deserve any blessing here, and God will deal with her when she shows up there.”
“I’m so sorry,” Truman said.
“Just send me the bill when it’s over.”
“Yes sir, you can count on me.”
“Thank you,” Justin said, and headed back to Callie’s room with his steps dragging.
Those calls had been a breeze compared to what came next. How was he going to explain Amelia’s death and the scope of what she’d done, and not permanently traumatize the granddaughter who’d loved her?
“God help me,” he said, then went inside.
****
It was six minutes after 7:00 a.m. when Gladys Ritter wheeled up into the Sadler’s driveway. She’d just learned about the shootings during the police arrest and was a little put out that Poppy hadn’t called her personally.
She’d gone to get milk for Mel’s breakfast down at Millwood’s Gas and Grocery, still wearing the black sweats she’d slept in, and heard Carmella Wyatt talking all about it. She was making snide remarks about Helen Sadler’s past and Gladys had nearly gotten into a fig
ht. During the scuffle, the banana clip holding up her hair had come loose and it was bouncing against the side of her head like the broke ear on a dog.
The house was quiet, which meant they were all probably still asleep, but Gladys wasn’t shy. She’d known them too long to stand on ceremony. She doubled up her fist and began hammering on the door.
****
John woke with a start. He’d been dreaming about a thunderstorm. It took him a few moments to realize it wasn’t thunder he was hearing but someone at the door. Anxious to get there before the noise frightened Poppy, he grabbed his jeans, pulling them on as he went. By the time he got to the door, he was running.
He opened the door with a jerk.
“Gladys? What the hell?”
She pushed past him, and let herself in.
John rolled his eyes as he shut the door.
“I just heard something down at Millwood’s that I don’t believe.”
John sighed. Damn. Poppy had been right on target. This wasn’t going to go away easy.
Then Poppy entered the living room with her hair in tangles, trying to tie her bathrobe with shaking hands.
“What’s going on?”
John glared at Gladys. “She had the day from hell yesterday. I didn’t think she’d ever get to sleep last night and now you went and woke her up at the crack of dawn. What’s so damned important that you couldn’t wait and call?”
Gladys put her hands on her hips in a gesture of defiance.
“I was at Millwood’s getting milk for Mel’s breakfast when Carmella Wyatt came in talking about an arrest in Jessup’s murder and then people dying and talking all crazy about Helen and the Caulfields. I nearly got into a fight with her because I wouldn’t believe all that would happen without Poppy letting me know.”
Poppy shoved shaky hands through her hair, combing it away from her face and sat down in the nearest chair.
“Well it did happen. I don’t intend to hurt your feelings, but after everything that’s been going on the last two days, I haven’t been in a mood to chat about it.”
Gladys blinked. It was beginning to dawn that her indignation was minimal compared to everything else.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I just don’t like Carmella and I guess I was jealous she knew something about you that I didn’t. I’m going home. You can call me whenever you want, or not. It’s still okay.”
“I’m going to get dressed,” John said, and walked out.
“Sit down,” Poppy said.
Gladys sat. “What happened?”
“You were Mama’s best friend, weren’t you?”
Gladys’s eyes welled. “I like to think so.”
Poppy sighed. It had to be said, and Gladys was the only one she could trust not to twist the facts. Ugly or not, Gladys would relate what she’d been told to anyone with a different story.
“Did you know Mama and Justin Caulfield had a thing her senior year of high school?”
Gladys gasped. “No she did not!”
“I found her diary in Daddy’s things and yes, she did.”
“Oh my word,” Gladys said. “But what’s that got to do with-“
“Mama was pregnant with me when she and Daddy got married, but I wasn’t his. Justin Caulfield is my father. Daddy found the diary. He confronted Mama at the hospital and she told him the truth the night he died. He got mad. He’d been fired by the company. Mama was sick and dying and he’d lost his insurance. He went to Caulfield’s home to ask for his job back, only Justin Caulfield wasn’t there. So he told Amelia Caulfield that he wanted his job back or he was going to tell everyone Justin was my father.”
Gladys clasped her hands over her mouth but didn’t move.
Poppy continued. “It’s even more complicated. Years earlier, my Grandpa Roberts had already gone to the family when they found out Mama was pregnant demanding money to keep it quiet. Mama was furious. She’d begged him not to, but he did anyway. Only Adam Caulfield wouldn’t pay Grandpa off. He wrote a fifty-thousand dollar check out to Mama. Grandpa brought it home. Mama wouldn’t cash it. She got back at Adam and she got back at Grandpa by not cashing the check. She wouldn’t let herself be bought.”
“My sweet lord,” Gladys whispered. “Such a burden and she never told.”
“That’s not all. The Caulfields didn’t tell Justin any of it. Apparently he was mad at his family and at himself for knuckling under to their demands to break up with her. He left for college without knowing she was pregnant, and because he was so pissed at his family, didn’t come home for years. He didn’t know about the payoff or the baby until two days ago, but by then it was too late to stop what had already happened. When Daddy showed up at their home to ask for his job back, Amelia Caulfield sent her bodyguard to get rid of Daddy. He’s the one who killed him, but she gave the order.”
“Poppy, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I had no idea-“
Poppy shuddered then took a deep breath. She wasn’t ever going to tell this again. Might as well get it all said.
“The police talked to Justin. He wore a wire back to his house to confirm something I think he already feared and confronted his mother. She admitted the whole thing without a bit of regret. The police got it on tape and went to arrest her. The bodyguard shot her and then killed himself before they could stop him. So Mama is dead. Daddy is dead. Amelia Caulfield is dead, and so is her bodyguard. Justin Caulfield is my birth father, but he’s a stranger I don’t want anything to do with. He didn’t want Mama enough to fight for her, so he doesn’t get me, either. I have lost my family and my identity. Is there anything else you want to know?”
Gladys shook her head so fiercely the banana clip slid even farther down her head and bumped her on the nose. She was bawling when she fastened it back up and she was still bawling when she kissed Poppy goodbye and let herself out.
Poppy reeled. And now it began.
John walked up behind her. “It had to be said,” he told her, then laid his hand on the top of her head. “Go back to bed if you want. I’ll make breakfast for the both of us and call you later.”
“No. I can’t sleep, Johnny. Every time I close my eyes I hear that woman saying she wanted to put Mama in a sack and throw her off the bridge into the Little Man. She was evil and that blood runs in my veins.”
“Mama’s does, too. Love makes a family, not blood. Stop dwelling on things you can’t change and focus on what’s left to do.”
“Like what?”
“We can bury Dad, now.”
“Oh my God, how will I face all those people again? They’ll know. They’ll all know by then.”
“It’s not about what they think they know. It’s about what you know. You’re a good, strong woman. Mom and Dad made sure of that and it’s up to you to prove it, which means keep your chin up, your mouth shut, and let them think what they want. Time will work everything else out.”
Poppy closed her eyes and dropped her head.
He waited. Either she would get it, or she wouldn’t. He couldn’t make it happen for her.
“Poppy?”
She looked up. “Did you make coffee yet?”
“No, but-“
“If you make coffee while I get dressed, I’ll make pancakes.”
John grinned. “Deal.”
“They have to release Daddy’s body now, don’t they? I mean, there’s no reason not to anymore.”
“That’s right, and you should get the car back, too,” John said. “I’ll check on all that after breakfast. Do you want to go with me?”
“No. Do you mind?”
“Of, course not.”
“I’m just not ready yet. You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes, sister, I understand. Now stop worrying and go make those pancakes.”
Poppy went to get dressed.
****
Justin was exhausted. He’d told Callie the whole ugly story, from the time he’d walked out on Sunny, to yesterday when he’d helped the police get
his mother’s confession of murder on tape. She’d been shocked, then horrified, and then she’d cried. In a way, her tears had been a blessing because it had finally given Justin an excuse to cry, too. He crawled up in bed with her, took her in his arms and let her cry herself to sleep. He still hadn’t told her she had another father. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
Over the past two hours, the nurses had been very discreet, giving them time alone. When they had to come in to check Callie’s monitors, they did so quickly, and without speaking. They didn’t know everything, but they’d heard rumors. If even half of what they’d heard was the truth, it was enough to make anybody cry.
Justin was grateful for the solace. The headboard of the bed was his backrest, the top of Callie’s head a pillow for his cheek. Every time she stirred, she whimpered. All he could do was pat her shoulder and rock her back to sleep.
It was close to noon when Callie woke up. She raised up, momentarily confused.
“Daddy?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m right here, honey,” he said and then eased out of the bed and fluffed her pillows as she sat up on the side of the bed.
“Did I just dream that or was it true?”
“It’s not a dream.”
Her face crumpled. “Oh no.”
“I wish I could make it go away, but I can’t.”
She was crying again, but without sound – just tears rolling down her cheeks, one after the other.
“Oh honey,” Justin said. He grabbed a handful of tissues then wiped her cheeks.
“Are you sad, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her nightgown and then glanced up.
“What about your other daughter? Does she hate us because Nana killed her daddy? I mean, uh, I know you’re her daddy, too, but I meant her other one.”
Justin sighed. “I don’t think she blames us for her father’s death, but she’s pretty mad at me. You can understand why, can’t you?”
Callie nodded. “Do you think she’s mad at me, too?”