* * *
Judge Barrett urged, "Go on, Betsy. Tell us what you saw the night Rudy Veazey died."
She wriggled happily in the chair, enjoying being the center of attention. "Well, I heard him beat her lots of times. I seen him, too. One night she ran out of the house, tryin' to get away from him, but he caught her and dragged her back in by the hair of her head with her hollerin' bloody murder the whole time.
"And another night," she continued, raking the courtroom, eyes shining, making sure everyone was listening, "he whipped her with his belt right out in the yard. Yanked her panties down and beat her good."
Luke gripped the arms of the wheelchair and squeezed. Jim patted him on the back. Woody murmured for him to hang on, that it was almost over.
"But what about the night he was killed?" the judge reminded. "What did you see?"
"Well, I got to the roost house later than usual. Some smart alecks played a trick on me and made me think a ghost was after me." She cast an angry glare all around in case the culprits were in the room. "But Sheriff Ballard, he was nice to me, made me see it won't no ghost. I tried to go back to bed, but I decided to move on in case them kids came back. I went over to Emma Jean's 'cause I like her roost house. She's got plenty of chickens, and it's warm with them all nestled around me, and she's got a friendly rooster, too, and..."
Judge Barrett gave an exaggerated sigh. "Betsy, please."
"Okay, okay. That night I heard Emma Jean scream so loud I got down off the roost and went to peek in the bedroom window. The light was on, and I saw Rudy holdin' a knife right in her face and sayin' he was gonna kill her. Then he stuck his dick in her face, and..."
Shocked gasps ripped through the room, and Judge Barrett admonished, "There is no need to be so graphic."
"Well, you let Mel Parker say it," she argued.
"No. He didn't say it like that."
Betsy held up a hand. "Okay. I'm sorry. He didn't say dick. He said penis. So if it makes everybody feel better, I'll say it: penis... peenuhhsss. Is that better?"
Someone laughed out loud.
Betsy glanced around to smile at whoever it was before continuing, "So he took out his peenuhhss and poked it in her mouth, and she bit him and grabbed hold of the knife and stabbed him to keep him from stabbin' her.
"Now I didn't see that part," she emphasized, '"cause I took off runnin' like a scalded dog. But I reckon that's how it happened. She killed him 'cause he made her, and if you want my opinion, I think the low-life deserved it."
Wilbur Veazey screamed, "Don't you talk about my boy that way, you filthy old bag."
Both he and Bertha started out of their row at the same time, but Kirby and Matt, not waiting for Judge Barrett to give the order, moved quickly to forcefully escort them out of the room.
Luke and Emma Jean had not taken their eyes off each other since Betsy had begun to speak. Luke silently mouthed, "I love you," and she smiled and nodded, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.
Betsy was sitting back, arms folded across her chest and grinning. Everyone else had lapsed into stunned silence. Finally, Judge Barrett, with a shake of his head, said, "Well, it sounds like self-defense to me."
Mel Parker stood, cleared his throat, and said, "Your honor, based on the testimony of the eyewitness, unorthodox though it may be, along with the allegations of malpractice against the defendant's attorney, the state moves that a mistrial be declared. In addition, the state will drop all charges against the defendant."
"So granted." Judge Barrett sounded relieved. "Now I want this damn courtroom cleared. I've had enough for one day." And he slammed the gavel down so hard it echoed through the courtroom.
Luke murmured, "Yes, Lord. Bring that hammer down one last time!"
He opened his arms to Emma Jean, who was making her way toward him through the crowd, ignoring the jeers and name-calling. She wasn't afraid of anyone or anything and never would be again.
Jim Burkhalter and Stewart Delaney walked with Judge Barrett into his chambers. Burch doggedly followed.
Woody stayed close to Luke in case anybody tried to start something. When Matt and Kirby walked over, he held up a hand for them to stay back. He didn't like the way they looked angry enough to bite a nail in two.
"It's okay," Matt said to put him at ease. "We just need to speak to the Sheriff, and it can't wait."
Luke unwound Emma Jean's arms from around his neck, his expression as angry as theirs. "You've got something you want to say to me?"
"Yes, we do," Matt said. "We know we let you down, and we're sorry, but we were listening to the wrong people."
Kirby added, "That's right, because I was convinced Emma Jean shot you, and that's why you wouldn't tell us who it was after you woke up."
"I explained I'd take care of it," Luke reminded. "And I will."
"Well, that's something else we need to talk about," Matt said. "The fact is, you aren't able to take care of it right now, and me and Kirby were just talking about how once word spreads about you being out of the hospital, whoever did it is going to run, if he hasn't already. So how about telling us so we can go pick him up."
Kirby, looking more serious than Luke had ever seen him, added, "And we aren't taking no for an answer."
Luke surprised them by saying, "All right. But I'm going with you. And I don't think he's gone anywhere. He doesn't know I saw his face."
Chapter 32
Luke was standing in what had once been Emma Jean's kitchen, circling the date on a calendar hanging on the wall—December 17, 1969. It was a day he had been living for and one he would always remember because, at long last, he was leaving Hampton. The best part was taking Emma Jean with him. They had spent the last two weeks living in Birmingham with Woody and his family. Luke needed to go to the hospital every day for physical therapy. He also wanted to be around for the arraignment of the person who had shot him—Rossie Scroggins.
Many people were surprised, for they had no idea Rossie even had a grudge. The charge was attempted murder. Luke had identified Rossie's as the face he saw that night. Mel Parker took Luke's sworn deposition so he wouldn't have to be at the trial. It was cut and dried, anyway. Rossie would go to prison for a long, long time for trying to kill an officer of the law.
As it turned out, Rossie did actually leave town right after the shooting and joined the Army. He was still in basic training down in Columbus, Georgia, and wasn't hard to track. Ossie, still living at home, broke down under questioning and told the whole story as to why Rossie hated Luke enough to want to kill him.
Ossie described the day Luke took him and Rossie home after they tried to break into Billy Saulston's store, and their pa had chased after them when they ran into the woods. He had caught Rossie and beat him so bad he broke his nose. Then he took his old '56 Chevy away from him, sold it for a hundred dollars, and used the money to stay drunk for two weeks. That hurt Rossie worse than his nose. By the time Ossie came back after staying with a cousin in Coosa County for a while, his pa seemed to have forgotten all about it, so Ossie didn't get his licks. But Rossie hadn't forgotten and started planning then and there to kill Luke.
Ossie was charged as an accessory and didn't mind a bit. He was happy to be locked up after his pa found out.
Luke had had plenty of time to think about that night and was glad it had been the Scroggins boys instead of Junior, Hardy, Burch, or Buddy. He didn't want to think they had the guts. There had been other things to take care of, also, like filing to divorce Alma. It had gone a lot smoother than he expected because, after what happened in court, she wanted to be rid of him fast. Far be it from her, she told anyone who'd listen, to try and hang onto a man who had been running around with a murderer.
Luke wished it could have been different for Tammy's sake. He never meant to cause her embarrassment. He tried to talk to her and explain how it was, how even though he couldn't live with her mother anymore she was still his daughter and he would always love her, would always be there for her if she need
ed anything. Her response had been to politely tell him to go to hell, and he told her he hoped she'd feel differently when she grew up.
Luke wasn't leaving with much, but then he'd never had very much. A few pairs of trousers and jeans, some shirts, a pair of Sunday shoes and a polyester leisure suit. Alma got the house, car, furniture, and what money was in the bank. His insurance with the county took care of the hospital and doctor bills. When he got a job, he'd pay Woody back the money he had loaned him to buy the second-hand Ford.
He was drawing a circle around the date on the calendar when Emma Jean came out of the bedroom carrying a small cardboard box. "This is all I could find. I don't know what they did with the rest of my clothes. They weren't worth anything, anyway."
He took the box from her and set it on the kitchen table. "Don't worry about it. When we get to California, I'll buy you lots of new clothes. Pretty ones, too."
She saw the circle on the calendar. "What did you do that for?"
"To mark the first day of the rest of our lives." He lifted her up and spun her around till she was dizzy and giggling and begging to be put down.
He kissed her till she was breathless, and when she finally pulled from his arms looked around the room and said, "Luke, I just want to hurry and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."
He understood. He didn't like being there either. Even though all the blood and mess had been cleaned up, it still gave him a bad feeling. "Well, if Sara will come on, we can leave." They had gone to the house at first light, wanting to get in and out before people were up and stirring on the roads. They had kept in touch with Sara by phone during the past weeks, but she had wanted to meet them to say good-bye in person.
A rooster crowed. Emma Jean went to the back door and opened it. "The chickens are coming out. They belong to Mr. Dootree. Otherwise, the Veazeys would have taken them like they took everything else that wasn't nailed down. I guess he doesn't have room for them over at his place, but I see he left feed."
Luke joined her. "I imagine he'll have this place rented out in no time, and the new tenants will take them over."
Headlights turned in. "There's Sara," Emma Jean said, waving.
They went to meet her, and after warm hugs and kisses, Sara exuded, "You two don't know how happy I am for you. But I hate you're going all the way to California. I'm afraid I'll never see you again."
"Yes, you will," Luke said confidently, "because you're welcome to visit any time, stay as long as you like, and you know it. I think it's the place for me and Emma Jean, and I won't have any trouble getting a job in law enforcement."
"I'm going to school to be a hairdresser," Emma Jean added proudly. "But don't you worry about us not keeping in touch. You're the best friend anybody could ask for. If not for you, I'd be on the way to the electric chair."
"Maybe not," Sara disputed. "Eventually Luke would have found out what was going on and done something about it."
He was quick to assure, "I'd damn well have tried."
Sara said, "Well, I have to admit I was getting real worried you wouldn't get there."
"I was doing some worrying of my own, not knowing if you were able to get in touch with Woody. From what he told me, Jim was the one who worked his butt off all weekend. Woody called him right away, and he got busy getting in touch with the Bar Association and having that writ drawn up. "
"Luke said they tried to stop him from leaving the hospital," Emma Jean contributed.
He smiled. "But not for long. Woody can be very convincing."
Sara asked if he'd heard anything about Burch's disbarment hearing.
"I talked to Mel yesterday to say good-bye. The hearing is next week. He took a deposition from Emma Jean and said Burch will definitely be disbarred."
Sara then bounced up and down on the balls of her feet in her excitement to convey the good news that Burch was moving. "I heard it for a fact. Irene is making him move to Mobile and go to work in her dad's shoe store. Quite a comeuppance, wouldn't you say?"
"Oh, yes," Luke said, agreeing more than she realized.
"Things around here are really going to change," Sara said. "And all for the better. I still can't believe Buddy Hampton has hired a negro to be some kind of executive to improve race relations at the mill, plus he says he won't oppose the union coming in."
Again, Luke smiled but tried not to look like he was gloating, which he was. He had phoned Buddy right after the trial and told him he had exactly two weeks to follow orders or a skeleton was going to leap out of his closet and straight into the arms of the Ku Klux Klan. Buddy had sworn it would be done, and the wheels had been put in motion the very next day, stunning everyone even more than what had gone on at Emma Jean's trial.
Rest in peace, Momma, Luke thought. I kept my promise.
As though uncannily reading his mind, Sara assured, "I'll look after your mother's grave and see she has flowers at Christmas and Mother's Day."
"That'll be nice of you."
"Well, I always loved her. You know that. Oh, I almost forgot..." Sara went to her car and brought back a paper sack. "Sandwiches for the road. Chicken salad and bologna, chocolate chip cookies, and apples."
Emma Jean hugged her again. "I'm really going to miss you. I wish you were going with us."
Sara was blinking back tears. "Who knows? When the kids are grown, I might just follow you out there."
She walked with them to Luke's car, but just as Emma Jean was about to get in, a familiar voice rang out in the morning quiet.
"I knew if I slept here long enough you'd show up sooner or later," Betsy Borden called sleepily as she crawled out of the roost house. "I've been waitin' for you to see how you're doin', and I figured you'd be back to get Emma Jean's clothes. I nosed around inside and saw some of 'em were still there."
Though it was hard to do, Luke did not flinch as Betsy threw her arms around him. Feathers were stuck in her hair and on her overalls, and she smelled of chicken dung, but she had done a great thing for Emma Jean, and he would always be grateful. "Well, I'm glad I got to see you before we left," he said... and meant it.
She let him go to exclaim, "Aw, hell. You mean you're leavin' town? You ain't gonna be sheriff no more?"
"I'm leaving that job to Matt. Emma Jean and I want to make a fresh start somewhere else."
Betsy pursed her lips, thought about it, then allowed, "Well, I reckon that makes sense, but I'll miss you, 'cause you was always good to me." Suddenly she whirled on Emma Jean and shook her fist. "You better be good to him, or you'll answer to me, you hear?"
Emma Jean swallowed against Betsy's smell and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, Betsy. I love this man more than my life."
Betsy stretched and yawned. "I best be goin'. Y'all come to see me when you can."
When it was just the three of them again, Sara couldn't hold back her tears any longer. She threw herself on Luke, and he wrapped his arms around her. "This isn't good-bye. We'll meet again."
He loaded the box in the Ford, and soon he and Emma Jean were driving down the winding road that would take them to Birmingham, and, eventually, on to the west coast.
Emma Jean slid across the seat to snuggle close. Passing a sign that read "LEAVING HAMPTON—HURRY BACK," she said, "Luke, I can't help thinkin' now that you're leaving for good that deep down you wish you knew who your real daddy was. I mean, all those years you lived in Hampton, and you might have passed him on the street and not known it."
"I'm sure I did," he said. "But like I've always said, it doesn't matter. I'm here, and now you are, too, and that's all that ever will matter."
He glanced in the rear view mirror, and the smile on his lips came from his very soul.
The moment had arrived at last.
Hampton, Alabama was behind him for all time.
The End
Want more from Patricia Hagan?
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SAY YOU LOVE ME
A Historical Western Romance
Excerpt from
Say You Love Me
A Historical Western Romance
by
Patricia Hagan
New York Times Bestselling Author
Jacie did not want to wake up, but something was nudging her foot, hard. She forced her eyes to open, then instantly shrank back in horror.
The man was framed by the setting sun, a flaming red and gold halo streaming around him. He stood with fists at his hips, legs wide apart as he stared down at her.
Horrified to think Black Serpent had found her, his name instinctively escaped Jacie's lips, but when the man spoke, she knew it was her original nocturnal visitor.
"I am not Black Serpent. My name is Luke. And you needn't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
Her panic lessened but only a little, because she was still scared out of her wits. She thought of the knife she had stolen from Black Serpent, which she had tied to her ankle, but realized he must have seen it, for her skirt was tangled up about her knees.
He stepped to one side, and the sun was suddenly blinding in her face. She raised her hands to shield her eyes, then held them out to fend him off as he dropped to one knee beside her. "Don't touch me," she said hoarsely, angrily. "This is all your fault, anyway. If I hadn't thought Black Serpent was you, I'd never have walked out that door so trustingly."
"I can't help it if you mistook someone else for me. Now drink. You need water." He raised her head and held a canteen to her lips. She drank eagerly, but he withdrew after she had taken only a few sips. "Too much will make your stomach hurt. Now tell me how you escaped."
Suspiciously, she said, "You're one of them. Why should I tell you anything?" Then she noted how he was dressed. Though bare-chested, he wore army trousers tucked into knee-high boots. His hair hung all the way to his shoulders. An Indian in stolen clothes, no doubt. "Did you kill a soldier to get that outfit?" she asked sharply.
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