Breaking TWIG

by Deborah Epperson

  "Your grandfather was right," the judge said. "It’s incumbent upon us all to heed the messages of our hearts. But the heart doesn’t scream; it doesn’t yell or shout out its warnings. The heart whispers to us. Too often, I’m afraid we let the noise of the world drown out what it’s trying to tell us. That’s when we get into trouble." Judge Langford gently squeezed my hand. "To hear what your heart is saying, Becky, you need to find a quiet place. And you must believe in yourself enough to trust the whisperings of your heart."

  "I listened when my heart told me to trust Frank. I listened when it said he loved me and would never hurt me, never lie to me. But in the end, he did. He lied about the new will." I looked at the county attorney. "You asked me if I wanted revenge against Donald. His beating didn’t hurt me half as much as Frank’s deceit did."

  Varner rose from his chair. "Perhaps this is the time to show you the other evidence we found concerning this case."

  A wave of panic washed over me. My neck muscles tightened. My scalp tingled.

  "What are you up to now?" my attorney asked.

  "Give me a second, Harland." Varner opened a cabinet door to reveal a wall safe. He unlocked the safe, took out a metal box, returned to his desk. "This holds the answers to a lot of questions."

  Judge Langford removed his glasses and laid them on the desk. "Say what you have to, Cordell. If it’s possible, I’d like to get home sometime today."

  I was thinking the same thing. But the actions of the prosecutor seem to indicate that possibility was growing more remote by the minute.

  Varner placed the box on the desk and sat. "Becky, do you know Dora Sikes?"

  "Yes. She’s the manger of the floral department at the Kirbyville store."

  The county attorney nodded. "During our investigation, Sheriff Hays interviewed her. She told him Donald came rushing into the store at closing time the day Frank had his heart attack. He claimed he needed to get into his father’s office. Dora had just returned from maternity leave and didn’t know about the trouble between Frank and his son. So, she let him in."

  "She never told me about that," I said.

  "Dora figured Donald needed insurance papers for the hospital. No big deal." Varner opened the lid of the metal container. "Sheriff Hays also discovered that Donald rented a safety deposit box at the Citizen’s Bank in Marietta the very next day."

  "Why would Wooten drive all that way to rent a deposit box?" the judge asked.

  "We wondered the same thing. I got a court order to open it and we found some interesting items. Things Donald apparently found in Frank’s office. Stuff he didn’t want anyone to see." The county attorney handed some papers to the judge. "Frank took out this $50,000 life insurance policy two days after the birth of his first grandchild. Upon his death, half the money went to Donald. The other half went into a trust fund for his granddaughter and any future grandchildren. The policy names Becky as executor of the trust fund."

  Judge Langford slipped on his glasses and reviewed the policy. "This doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t Donald cash the policy in when Frank died?"

  "Upon learning about Frank’s death, the insurance company would’ve checked their records and found that Frank had bought a second life insurance policy at the same time." The prosecutor handed the judge another stack of papers. "This policy is for $250,000 and goes entirely to one beneficiary, Miss Rebecca Cooper."

  "What! Frank left me $250,000 in life insurance?"

  "He never told you about the policy?" Varner asked.

  "No. I returned home from Havenwood a few days before the baby was born. Frank knew I didn’t like to talk about anything connected with death."

  The prosecutor nodded. "I’m sure he didn’t want to upset you."

  Judge Langford threw the policy down on the desk. "In order to deny Becky what was hers, Donald deliberately cheated his own daughters out of their inheritance. What a sick bastard. Excuse my language, Becky."

  "There’s more." Varner retrieved an envelope from the box, slid it over to me.

  "What’s this?" I asked.

  "It’s the divorce settlement Helen’s been looking for," he said.

  I yanked the document out of the envelope, glanced at it, and handed it to the judge. "Is that right, sir? Is this Momma’s divorce settlement from Frank?"

  Judge Langford scanned the papers. "That is indeed what it is."

  "You’ll find this interesting, Becky." Mr. Varner pushed a stack of papers across his desk.

  The papers were stapled together and folded twice. I tried to undo them, but my hands trembled too much.

  "Would you like my help?" the judge asked.

  "Please."

  Judge Langford opened the document, read each page.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. "What is it?"

  "This is the last will and testament of Franklin Wayne Wooten." My attorney looked at me over the top of his wire-framed glasses. "It’s dated June 28, 1971."

  For a moment, I stopped breathing. An involuntary gulp started the air surging through my lungs again. Had I heard correctly? Or had hope tricked my ears into fabricating falsehoods to heal my wounded heart? "I didn’t hear you correctly."

  "You heard me just fine," Judge Langford said. "Here, read it for yourself."

  As I reviewed the document, Mr. Varner described the phone call he’d received earlier from a law firm in Atlanta. When Frank visited the firm to sign the papers for Starview Mountain, he’d hired them to prepare his new will and Momma’s settlement papers. The new attorneys didn’t know about Frank’s death until Mr. Varner contacted them concerning the will he’d found in Donald’s safety deposit box.

  "Do you know what this means, Becky?" Varner asked.

  "Yes," I said, hating the quiver in my voice. "It means Frank didn’t betray me. It means he really loved me." A tear slipped out. Another one followed. Then a rush.

  Mr. Varner gave me his handkerchief. "It also means you’re a wealthy young lady."

  "That’s not important. Is it, Judge Langford?"

  The jurist smiled. "No, Becky. That’s not important at all. The thing that matters is that you realize your heart whispered the truth when it told you to trust Frank."

  I closed my eyes and waited for my mind and heart to settle down, waited for them to restore order to the turmoil of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. In a few brief minutes, my world had once again spun 180 degrees. At first glance, it looked as though life had righted itself, that fate had finally grown tired of tormenting me and moved on to its next victim. But then again, perhaps this was but another trick, another irony played out at my expense. Now that I had it all—the business, Papa’s house, proof of Frank’s love—would I have to enjoy them from the confines of a prison cell?

  I opened my eyes, laid the will on the desk, and silently ordered my pounding heart to slow. "Mr. Varner, you said there were three scenarios as to what might have happened on the mountain the day Donald died. One premise said his death was an accident as I claim. A second possibility is murder. You never told us your last theory."

  "Sheriff Hays and I talked to folks around town who remembered seeing you at the grand opening, the drugstore, and the library." Cordell stretched his arms across the desk. "Mrs. Treadwell told us she saw you walking down Bragg Road and offered you a ride home, but you declined."

  "I like walking when the weather’s nice."

  He nodded. "I believe Donald came along and forced you to go with him. I say forced because you’re too smart to go anywhere alone with him. If he’d beat and rape you in your own house, what would he do to you on an isolated mountain top?"

  "That’s a good point, Cordell," the judge said.

  "Thank you, sir." Varner ran his hands through his hair. "We know Wooten was angry. His wife had left him. She’d taken his children and his car with her. Because of the problems with the Ranchero, Donald had to cancel his regular Friday night rendezvous with his mistress, Wanda Gimmer. In addition, he’d fired Gordon Zagat that mornin
g after a heated argument. To top it off, several employees heard him complaining about how his land deal had gone sour."

  The judge reached for more water. "Sounds like his day wasn't going very well."

  "And it got worse when a drunken Gordon Zagat showed up on the mountain. Zagat remembered that Frank’s truck was running, but he didn’t recall seeing Becky." The prosecutor focused on me. "Did you witness the argument between Gordon and Donald?"

  "Yes. I’d walked to the pond, but I came back when I heard shouting. I hid in a grove of cottonwoods." A flutter in my stomach surprised me. I scooted back in my chair before continuing. "The two men were arguing. Donald threw a punch, but Mr. Zagat ducked and then threw one of his own. He didn’t miss. Donald fell to the ground."

  "How many times did Zagat hit Wooten?" the prosecutor asked.

  "Only once. Then Gordon got in his car and left."

  "Wooten must have been madder than a cat dunked in turpentine," Harland said.

  The county attorney nodded. "And with nobody to vent his anger on, I figure he turned it on you. Did Donald rape you, Becky? Did he try to, and you killed him in self-defense?"

  I didn’t answer.

  He leaned in. "You know you have a right to defend yourself, don’t you?"

  "It was an accident," I said.

  Varner frowned. "Harland, please tell her that she had every right to defend herself."

  "Cordell’s right, Becky. A person in fear for her life has a legal right to protect herself." Judge Langford patted my hand. "But don’t let us put words in your mouth."

  I studied the two attorneys. Both were good men, good fathers. "Frank’s granddaughters are little now, but one day they’ll ask about what kind of man their daddy was. How would your girls feel, Mr. Varner, if they discovered you had committed arson and rape?"

  "They’d be devastated," he said. "I can appreciate you wanting to protect Donald’s children, Becky, but I need to know what really happened."

  "I told you. Donald’s death was an accident. It happened like I said it did."

  The county attorney locked his fingers behind his head, leaned back in his chair, and blew out a deep breath. "How long do you plan on sticking to that story?"

  "Until I die, I reckon."

  "The next move is yours, Cordell." Judge Langford cleaned his glasses with the end of his tie. "I’d hate for the hardworking folks of Cascade County to hear you squandered their tax dollars on a case you knew you couldn’t win."

  Varner grinned. "Would you tell them that about me, Harland?"

  The judge smiled back. "I wouldn’t have to. Helen would take care of that."

  "Let’s not bring her into the mix," Varner said. "When she found me at Minnow Creek, Helen insisted I come back to my office. I didn’t want to give up my fishing, but I finally had to concede defeat. She came at me like a grizzly sow bent on protecting her cub."

  I laughed. "I always thought of Momma as being more like one of those animals who eat their young." Mr. Varner and Judge Langford stared at me. They didn’t know the real Momma enough to appreciate my point, but Frank would’ve agreed.

  Varner’s face turned serious. "Only you, Becky, know the truth about what happened on Starview Mountain. But regardless of what went down, an accident or self defense, I’ve got a feeling justice was served." Varner pointed at the judge. "I’m sure Harland will agree when I say that in our business, that’s the best we can hope for."

  The judge nodded.

  "What does that mean?" I asked.

  Mr. Varner placed the medallion and the pictures Roy Tate had given him back into the manila envelope, closed the flap, and placed it in his desk drawer. "As far as my office is concerned, Donald Wooten’s death was the result of an unfortunate accident."

  I blew out a deep breath. Muscles in my shoulders went limp as relief poured over me.

  "You’ve made the right decision, Cordell," Judge Langford said.

  The county attorney smiled.

  "Thank you, Mr. Varner. How can I ever repay your kindness?"

  "As a matter of fact, there are a couple of things you could do for me."

  "Just name it," I said.

  Cordell pulled off his tie. "I’m planning on trying my luck at Minnow Creek later this afternoon. If you could keep Helen away from there, I’d appreciate it."

  "I can handle that. What’s the other favor?"

  "I’d like to be there when you tell her we found the new will and her settlement papers. I’d like to see her face."

  "The whole town will hear Momma scream when she realizes she’s getting her money."

  Varner grinned. "I’m surprised Helen didn’t come with you."

  "I told her to wait at home for us," the judge said.

  "You told Helen?" Varner picked up the phone, pushed a button. "Tressie, is Helen Wooten sitting out there? She is. Arrived about ten minutes after I did. Been waiting all this time, huh? Don’t send her in yet. I’ll let you know when."

  Judge Langford scratched his head. "I should know better than to give Helen orders."

  Mr. Varner nodded and then turned to me. "Becky, I’m keeping your mother waiting because there were two other items in the safety deposit box. Items of a personal nature."

  "What were they?" I asked.

  The county attorney reached into the metal box, retrieved another envelope and a gray, velvet-covered box. He opened the tiny gift and sat it in front of me. "I think Frank intended you to have this."

  I stared at the contents. My hands trembled. I dared not pick it up for fear of dropping the treasure inside. Three rings. The one in front—a diamond solitaire mounted on a band of gold. The other rings were a matched pair of wedding bands. A spiral of silver inlay wrapped around a band of gold. Embedded into the silver were seven small diamonds. I started crying again.

  Judge Langford handed me his handkerchief. "Do you think you’re up to seeing what’s in the envelope? Are would you rather wait?"

  I wiped my faced and nodded. "I’d like to see everything now, please."

  "Sure." Mr. Varner pulled a couple of thin booklets from the envelope. "We have here two round-trip airline tickets from Atlanta to Paris, France. One for Mr. Franklin W. Wooten and the other for Mrs. Rebecca L. Wooten." He handed me the tickets.

  I read the names five times before my mind convinced my heart it was true. Frank had planned to take me to Paris for our honeymoon. I could feel the eyes of the two gentlemen staring at me. How could I explain my intimate relationship with Frank to those who had always thought of us as stepfather and stepdaughter? I decided to break with tradition and tell the truth.

  "Frank and I fell in love a couple of years ago. We were very happy together and planned to get married after his divorce."

  "Did Helen know?" Varner asked.

  "Momma knew. As I said, their marriage was over before I was sent to Havenwood. She’s been in love with Henry for years. They’d planned a big wedding."

  "Then why didn’t Helen move to Palm Beach?" the judge asked.

  "Henry tried to get her to go. But Momma couldn’t just walk off and leave everything to Donald. She’s been trying to find a way to nullify Frank’s first will."

  "She won’t have to worry about that anymore," Varner said. "The Atlanta law firm will get everything straightened out for you. I gave them our phone numbers, Harland, in case they need any assistance on this end."

  "Good. I’d like to get this mess cleaned up for Becky as soon as possible."

  "I appreciate your help, Judge Langford," I said. "Yours too, Mr. Varner."

  "What are you going to do now, Becky?" the prosecutor asked.

  "I have no idea." I thumbed through the airline tickets. "Frank tried to get me to leave Sugardale. He wanted me to get more education and to see more of world." I placed my elbows on the desk, rested my head in my hands. "How could I’ve ever doubted Frank’s love for me? I didn’t deserve him."

  Judge Langford patted my shoulders. "Frank wouldn’t like you running you
rself down like that. Under the circumstances, anyone would’ve had their doubts. Life is full of twist and turns. All we can do is navigate the best course we can and try to learn as we go."

  I looked up. "By learning to listen to the whispers of our hearts?"

  "Yes, and by trusting your own instincts," the jurist said.

  "And you need to remember to forgive yourself for the mistakes you make," Varner added. "Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself crazy."

  "Listen to Cordell, Becky. He’s the voice of experience talking."

  The county attorney frowned. "I’m not sure that was a compliment, Harland."

  We all laughed.

  I picked up the tickets. "When would I have to use these, Mr. Varner?"

  "Frank left the dates open. You call the airlines, see when a seat is available, and you’re on your way to Paris."

  "I’ve never flown before. Is it scary?"

  The judge smiled. "Everything’s scary the first time. Even riding a bike. But it’s worth the effort."

  Cordell undid the top button on his shirt. "I’m telling you, Becky, you should give serious consideration to using one of those tickets."

  "I will. I have a habit of doing what I’m told."

  Judge Langford smiled. "That’s one habit you should try to break."

  Varner reached for the phone. "Are we ready to invite Helen to this party?"

  "I have one more question, sir."

  "What’s that, Becky?" Cordell asked.

  "Does anyone have a pair of earplugs?"

  CHAPTER 36

  I’d never seen my mother so happy. When Mr. Varner told her she’d be getting her divorce settlement, Momma had two requests. First, she wanted to call Henry and tell him she could marry him now. Second, she wanted to be the one to tell Charlotte that all she’d be receiving was the $25,000 in life insurance meant for Donald. The only thing Momma likes better than good sex is twisting the knife into her enemies. It took Judge Langford’s considerable skills as a negotiator to convince her it was the county attorney’s job to inform Charlotte about the outcome of the investigation.