“But he’s been doing so well,” Tommy pointed out.
“I know,” Mary Sue agreed. “And I’m not sure why that is. Maybe it’s his diet here with your family. I mentioned to Dr. Bill that Katherine had us all eating that low-protein diet she’d read about. Maybe that’s it. Or perhaps it’s because he’s not in day care anymore and he isn’t being exposed to other diseases. I just don’t know. But I don’t think we can wait that long.”
Andrew nodded in agreement.
“I think you have two decisions to make. First, you have to decide about getting that blood sample to Dr. Forrester. That means getting it to him down in the Caribbean. You’ll have to get Dr. Bill to find out whether or not he’ll have the necessary equipment down there to be able to evaluate it himself. But if he’s doing medical-mission work down there, maybe he will.”
Mary Sue nodded and looked to Andrew for his second point.
“And the other thing is this,” Andrew continued, his voice dropping slightly. “You need to make a decision about returning home. Returning home for Joshua to get treatment in a hospital close to your home when we find out what his problem really is. And we need to talk about you going home to fight your case and support your husband.”
Tommy came to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger. He pointed a finger at Andrew.
“That’s a bad idea. You want to send her back to the White Man so they can trash her and put her in jail? And put Joshua in a foster home? That’s what you want?”
“She may be able to defend herself better back home than she can on the run,” Andrew suggested. “Besides, for Mary Sue, as a Christian, this is also a spiritual issue.”
“Some friend you are!” Tommy retorted. “How many tongues do you have in your mouth? First you bring Mary Sue and Joshua into our family and pledge your love and support and friendship, and now you are ready to hand them over to the White Man.”
“This is not a White Man–Indian problem we’ve got,” Andrew replied, trying to reason with his brother.
“It isn’t?” Tommy responded, his fists now clenched at his sides. “Do you remember what I told you—what happened at the Trading Post? That Crystal Banes is tracking down a news story. She is not just looking for Mary Sue and Joshua. She is trying to put us in the middle of this. This is about the White Man and the Indians, Andrew. Wake up!”
Mary Sue raised her hands in the air to silence her two friends.
“I appreciate both of you. I hear what both of you are saying. But this is something I have to think about. Something I have to pray about. This is my life—and Joshua’s—and my husband’s—that we’re talking about here.”
She stood up and put her hand on Tommy’s shoulder.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she said. “There’s wisdom in not trusting a system that seems to have really gone wrong in my case. And I know the mistrust you have for the police, and the lawyers, and the courts.”
Then she turned to Andrew and smiled.
“I also hear what you are saying, Andrew. I need to put Joshua above everything else. And there is wisdom in the idea of turning myself in. But I just haven’t made that decision yet. I know the time is getting short. I feel greatly burdened in my heart that I have to choose. I just need a few days to work this out.”
In the kitchen, Katherine felt Mary Sue’s burden in her own heart. She sighed heavily, wishing there were something she could do.
She glanced out the window to the backyard, where Danny was entertaining Joshua with his blue yo-yo. But then she noticed something. Joshua turned away from Danny with a strange look on his face, and he bent over on the ground and began throwing up.
Katherine whirled toward the living room.
“Mary Sue, Joshua is getting sick all over outside. We need to get out there!”
Then she turned back and looked out the window again, just in time to see Joshua collapse to the ground, and Danny reaching over to him with a look of terror and helplessness.
35
MARY SUE, I’VE BEEN DYING HERE in jail without you. But didn’t Mom tell you that I didn’t want you to risk calling me here?”
“I’m sorry, Joe darling. But I’ve been trying to contact Will at the houseboat and I get no answer. And I’ve been playing phone tag with Will’s office. I’m getting really scared, not having any news about the case or how you’re doing.”
“You know they might be tapping this phone call—I’m using the pay phone in the day room. They could be listening to every word you’re saying. They could be tracing your call.”
“I guess I’m going to have to take that chance.”
“Well, honey—I love you so much. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news…”
“What is it?” Mary Sue asked, her voice constricting with tension.
“The judge really slammed Will Chambers. When he refused to give out any information about where you were, he got sent here to jail.”
“Oh my heavens!” Mary Sue exclaimed. “Have you talked to him—how is he doing?”
“I have no idea. I was going to try to connect with him—but then, the next thing I knew, they transferred him out of here.”
“Transferred? Where?”
“I think they shipped him over to someplace called the overflow pen.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t want to know,” Joe said, lowering his voice. “I’ve heard some horror stories about the place. Things are really going from bad to worse.”
At the other end, Mary Sue began crying softly.
“Listen, baby doll, our God is big enough to handle all of this. I don’t know why this is happening. But you and I are going to stick together. We’re going to beat this thing,” Joe declared, trying to reassure her.
When Mary Sue had collected herself, she shared the rest of her heart with her husband.
“Joe darling, we’ve had a bad spell with Joshua. He’s gotten real sick. He collapsed yesterday, and I had to take him to the hospital.”
Joe struggled for words, but nothing came out.
“They’ve got him stabilized now. But we’ve got to get a diagnosis. Dr. Bill up here in South Dakota knows a specialist. He says he’s one of the best in the world. We’re going to try to get a blood sample down to him right away. But the problem is, he’s on his way to some kind of medical mission down in the Bahamas. If we can get the blood sample down there to him, he might be able to take a look and make a diagnosis.”
“It looks like things are coming to a head pretty quickly,” Joe said with resignation in his voice. He paused, trying to decide whether to keep on bringing Mary Sue up to speed.
“You know our custody trial is coming up in a week. Mom probably hasn’t told you—but I fired that worm Stanley Kennelworth as my attorney.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I was hoping that Will could represent you and I could represent myself at the hearing. I thought maybe we could work together. But I have no idea where he is right now.”
“I’ve got to take care of Joshua,” Mary Sue replied. “He has to be our first priority. I think that means I’ve got to get this blood sample out to that specialist. And I think it may mean I have to turn myself in. I’m struggling with that.”
“I would have agreed with you a few weeks ago. But now that Will is sitting in jail and may not be able to represent you at trial, I just don’t know.”
Mary Sue was deep in thought and remained silent at the other end.
“If we go into court without Will,” Joe continued, “and we lose this thing, I don’t think we’ll ever get Joshua back. And if you come back and they get custody of Joshua, then they’ll go after you with the criminal charges that are still sitting there, waiting to be served on you. I see this whole thing exploding right in our face.”
“I am talking to Andrew about it,” Mary Sue said. “I am praying about it. So is he. And if I can ever get in contact with Will, I’m going to ask his advice too.”
&nb
sp; “I think Andrew is a good man. And I know Will is someone who’s going to give you the straight scoop…I just miss you so much…” Joe said his voice trailing off as he choked back tears.
Husband and wife exchanged a few final, tender words, and then Mary Sue hung up the receiver of the pay phone next to the Trading Post.
In an adjacent conference room, a Juda County sheriff’s deputy pushed down the stop button on the recorder that was used to tap the day room’s telephone. He took the earphones off his head and jotted down the locator number where the tape had stopped. Next to the locator number he put the words, “Ending point of Mary Sue Fellows’ telephone conversation with Joseph Fellows via the phone in the Juda County jail day room.”
Then the deputy put the tape in a large evidence envelope, sealed it, and hustled down to detective Otis Tracher’s office. The secretary greeted him.
“I am sorry, Otis is out of town at a funeral. He won’t be back till tomorrow.”
“This is a rush,” the deputy said. “Try to get ahold of him if you can. I have a hot tip on the Mary Sue Fellows case. Did he leave anybody in charge while he was gone?”
“Not that he told me,” the secretary said. “He’s been working this one alone. I have a contact number for him. I’ll see if I can run him down.”
The deputy handed the evidence envelope to the secretary.
“Tell him I think we have a definite bead on Mary Sue Fellows. We need to act on this right now.”
He left, and the secretary turned to her notepad.
“Alright,” she said to herself with exasperation, “now where did I put those contact numbers for Otis?”
36
IT WAS STRANGE TO SEE AN ANGEL in a jail cell.
First there was the female angel. She was a black woman, pretty and dressed in a business suit. She looked familiar, but he could not recall a name.
And then there was the other angel. He was a white man, dressed like a jail guard.
The black female angel was bending down and smiling, but with a sorrowful look, as if she was experiencing his pain.
She said, “Get up—we’re going to take you out. Get your shoes and coat on.”
The white male angel bent down and unlocked the handcuff on his wrist.
Supporting him under the arms, the angels helped him out of the cell. As they walked down the corridor, they turned a corner.
There was the desk.
And there was the television, still blaring rock videos. But the nameless guard was no longer there.
At some point, some indistinct moment, Will became aware that it was Jacki Johnson and guard Thompson who were escorting him out of the overflow pen. He was in pain, but he was alive.
Will drifted in and out of consciousness.
As things began becoming more distinct and clear, Will realized he was in a hospital bed—a clean bed—in the Delphi hospital. There was a bandage across his face, and he felt pain and pressure behind his eyes. And, of course, his whole head was throbbing violently.
Then he noticed Jacki Johnson sitting patiently in a chair next to him. She smiled.
“You broke your promise, Will.”
“What?” Will replied weakly.
“You told me you didn’t need a baby-sitter anymore. No more bailing Will Chambers out of trouble. Remember?”
Will started chuckling, but stopped as he grabbed his head in exquisite pain.
“Just don’t make me laugh again,” he groaned. “Has anybody told Fiona?”
“Oh, yes,” Jacki replied. “She’s been given the whole story.”
“And?”
“Well—she did freak a little bit. Not much. The woman is a trooper—although she did tell me something I’m not sure I should share with you.”
“Huh—what?”
“Well,” Jacki explained, “she said something about Jesus, and a whip, and driving out the money changers. And she added that she figured it would be okay if she brought a bullwhip and took off the hide of the guys who did this to you.”
Will laughed out loud and then grimaced as he grabbed his head again.
“That’s my Fiona,” he said, smiling in spite of the pain. He took a few sips from a Styrofoam cup of ice water and then put it down on the tray next to him.
“So how did you get me out of that hellhole?”
“Well, Hilda gave me the Reader’s Digest version of your message. I called the court, got a copy of the court record and the judge’s order confining you to jail, and filed an urgent petition with Georgia’s Supreme Court. It took them less than three hours to kick out an order reversing Judge Mason and ordering your immediate release.”
“Great work,” Will said as enthusiastically as he dared.
“I did file another motion—to force the state Supreme Court to remove Judge Mason from the case. But they haven’t ruled on the motion yet. I must be honest and tell you it doesn’t stand much of a chance.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Will replied. “If we have to try the case before Judge Mason, so be it. Has anyone heard from Mary Sue?”
“She called the office a couple of times trying to track you down. That was before we knew you’d been locked up in the county jail.”
“I’ve got to get out of this hospital and start preparing for the custody trial. I’ve lost track of time—what’s the trial date?”
Jacki leaned forward and put her hand on Will’s arm.
“I suggest you ask the court for an adjournment so you can do a little bit more recovery.”
“No…no, I can’t afford to do that. I don’t think time is on our side,” Will replied.
That was when Harry Putnam strode through the door of Will’s room. His hands were thrust in his pockets, and he stopped short at the end of the bed. He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and nodded in Will’s direction.
“One thing you should know,” Jacki interjected. “Mr. Putnam here was very helpful in getting you immediately released from the overflow pen. As a matter of fact, he was outraged when he found that you had been transferred.”
“That is right,” Putnam said, his voice rising to make the point. “Look, Chambers, I fight hard—maybe too hard—but I never try low blows against another attorney. I would never submit you to this kind of treatment. You’ve got to know that. When I found that someone had transferred you, I blew a gasket. I gave your associate here all of my attention when she presented the order from the Supreme Court. I helped her track you down and get you out of jail pronto.”
“Harry,” Will spoke up, “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“Don’t get mushy on me,” Putnam countered. “I still plan on beating you in this case. Don’t forget that. I just don’t want to see one of my legal brethren treated like this. And one more thing…”
“What is it?”
“We’ve been investigating that Neanderthal who worked in the auxiliary jail. A grand jury just issued an indictment against him for abuse of authority, battery—you can imagine all the charges. We’re going to need your testimony. I assume you’ll be more than happy to provide it.”
“You figured that one right,” Will replied firmly. “On the other hand, maybe prison would be too good for that guy.”
“How so?”
“If you want real punishment, forget prison—instead, let my girlfriend, Fiona, go after him.”
Will and Jacki had a good chuckle, at the expense of Will’s aching skull.
Then the attorney narrowed his eyes and looked straight at Harry Putnam.
“I want those two thugs put away—the guard and the motorcyclist. I’ll be watching you to make sure that happens. And I expect you to find out who was behind their attack on me.”
Putnam nodded nervously.
After his two visitors said their goodbyes, Will was alone in the room—but only for a few minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone stop in the doorway. It was a woman. Then he noticed the dark hair and radiant smile.
Fiona ran
to the bed with a huge basket of flowers. She hugged him and kissed his forehead gingerly.
“Thank you, God. Thank you for keeping Will alive.”
She was laughing and crying, and after a moment she had to grab in her suit pocket for a Kleenex to blow her nose. She executed that task so loudly that both of them burst into belly laughs.
With that, Will’s head began splitting again, but he kept laughing and wincing all the same.
After sitting down next to him, Fiona raised his hands to her face and kissed them.
“It’s funny,” she said wistfully, “how all of the things that bothered me—that upset me about how things were between us…the things you forgot to do…even my questioning whether you were really over Audra’s death. They all seem so small and stupid now when I realize how easy it is to lose someone you really love—someone you love more than life itself.”
Will stared into her dark eyes, taking in her face, and her dimples, and the funny way her lips turned when her feelings were coming to the surface.
“Do you realize,” Will said slowly, “what you just said…it’s the first time you told me you loved me like that?”
Tears were streaming down Fiona’s face, and she laughed about her make-up smearing. But Will was indifferent to that.
“How in the world did you get here?”
“The minute I found out you were in the hospital I told my producer it was an emergency—I needed twelve hours off. I chartered a private plane. That was a miracle of sorts. All the charters are getting booked up. Everybody thinks there’s going to be a big airlines strike. The pilot is sitting downstairs, so I’m afraid I have less than an hour.”
Will didn’t care. He told Fiona how much he loved her—and that, when he returned to Virginia after this case, how the two of them needed to do some serious decision-making.
The two of them talked a little more about their lives, and then, too soon, Fiona rose slowly, saying she had to go. When she kissed him again, he could taste the hot tears that were running down her face.
“Better check your make-up on the way out, dear,” Will said with a smile. “I can’t wait till we’re together again.”
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