“I came to fetch you, honey.” He set Elsie carefully on her feet but kept a protective arm across her shoulders. He removed his felt hat. “Which one of you gentlemen is Mr. Jones?”
Jethro stepped forward. “I’m Jethro Jones.”
“I’m Robert Stuart, Mr. Jones. I’ve come to take my wife and daughter home.”
Stunned, Jethro turned to Mrs. Stuart and saw her expression change in an instant from absolute fright to bubbling happiness. She jerked her arm free from his hand and ran down the steps.
“Bobby, Bobby, darlin’, I’m so glad you found me. I’ve been so scared …” Birdie wrapped her arms around the man’s waist and clung to him.
Jethro appeared dazed as he looked from Birdie to her husband. Mr. Stuart was a tall, thin man with sparse gray hair and a kind face. He was at least twenty years older than Birdie.
“Run along and pack your things, Birdie. We’re catching the six o’clock eastbound.”
“Oh, goody. I can’t wait to get home.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.
“Go help your mother, honey.” Mr. Stuart gave Elsie a gentle push. “The man who brought me from the train station is waiting in the car.”
“I’ll hurry, Bobby.” Without a backward glance, Birdie flounced into the house.
After Birdie and Elsie had disappeared inside, Jethro introduced Mr. Stuart to Julie, then to the marshal and Corbin. After the introductions, Mr. Stuart put his felt hat back on his head.
“Thank you for looking after my wife and daughter. I hope Birdie didn’t cause you any trouble. She isn’t well, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” Jethro said spiritedly. “What exactly is the matter with her?”
“It’s rather hard to explain. This is the fourth time since we’ve been married that she’s run away and taken Elsie. The other times she hasn’t gone so far away from home. Birdie lives in a dream world where everything revolves around her. She probably told you that I was dead and that she had nowhere to go” He shrugged out of his dark coat and hung it on his arm. “I think it’s warmer here than in Nashville.”
“Are you from Nashville? Mrs. Stuart said she came from Memphis.” Julie tried not to look at her father.
“We are from Nashville. Birdie tells different things at different times. I understand she has a brother living here. I never knew that. I was under the impression that all her family were dead.”
“Are you saying that your wife is not always truthful?” Marshal Sanford asked.
“Sir, that is putting it mildly. I could put you in touch with a dozen people who would tell you that Birdie does not know, or care about, truth. She conjures up something in her mind and, I guess, to her it’s true. Besides being a beautiful woman, she’s a very good actress and can make people believe her.”
“We are investigating a murder here and Mrs. Stuart has made some serious charges against a suspect. She says that she will swear to them in court.”
“Marshal, no court in the land would take Birdie’s word for anything after her past is exposed. She’s my wife, and I know this to be a fact, that she will lie about anything. I’ll take care of her as long as I’m able and provide for her when I’m gone; it’s the price I’m paying for marrying her. My concern is for Elsie. She’s the child I never thought I’d have, and I love her dearly. I’m determined that she will not grow up to be a woman like her mother.”
“Then you’d better do something quick, mister,” Jill said staunchly. “Elsie is well on her way to being the meanest brat we’ve ever seen around here.”
“I hate her,” Jason said. “She don’t—”
“That’s enough!” Jethro’s stern voice cut off Jason’s words.
“It’s all right, Mr. Jones. You know the saying: ‘Out of the mouths of babes …’ ”
“They were ill-mannered and I’ll not have it.”
“Sorry, Papa,” Jill and Jason said in unison.
“Elsie isn’t a perfect child, but she’s my child and there is time for her to change her ways.”
“How did you find out that Mrs. Stuart was here?” Julie asked.
“When she left I made the same inquiries that I’ve made the other times when she took Elsie and disappeared. The other times I found her within fifty miles of home. A Pinkerton agent found a few of the notices I had posted. He called on me and told me that a mother and daughter by the name of Birdie and Elsie Stuart were here in Fertile living on the Jethro Jones farm. It seems someone from around here had hired him to find out about her.”
Evan hired a Pinkerton agent. He said he had a trick up his sleeve. Oh, my love, thank you, thank you.
“We’d better get along.” The marshal stood. “Nice to have met you folks.”
“Chief Appleby, can I speak to you before you go?” Julie asked.
Corbin nodded and stepped to the corner of the house.
“Does this mean that Evan can come home?”
“The marshal will decide that. But it looks good.”
“How about the tire tracks?”
“The marshal and I found the tracks that passed Gus Keegan’s place and the ones that returned. The tracks that we think were made by the car that dumped Walter’s body were not made by Evan’s car.”
“Oh, thank heavens!”
“The right wheels were on the grass, but the left wheels were on the dirt road. I’m looking for a car that looks like the Hudson from the back so I can check the tread on the tires. The marshal and I traced the pattern made by the left wheel tracks just in case they get wiped out.”
“Thank you. Oh, so much has happened today, it’s hard for me to sort it all out.”
“Evan told me about Mrs. Stuart and the trouble she’s caused.”
“She’s the most evil, conniving woman I’ve ever met.”
“She’s that, all right.”
“Did the marshal believe her?”
“If he did, he’d not let her leave the state.”
Julie and Joe walked with Corbin and the marshal to their car and she asked the question she had been burning to ask.
“Marshal, can Evan come home?”
“I’m planning on it, Miss Jones. We don’t have enough to hold him.”
“Oh, thank you.” Julie impulsively hugged his arm.
“Deputy Weaver won’t like that one bit,” Joe said.
“Deputy Weaver isn’t the United States marshal.”
“What time should Joe or Papa come get Evan?” Julie insisted.
“In a couple hours, missy.” The big gruff man patted Julie on the shoulder as if she were a child. “Let’s get goin’, Appleby. If we stay here much longer, this girl will have me singing ‘Yankee Doodle.’ ”
Julie laughed and hugged his arm again. She and Joe watched Corbin’s car until it turned down the road toward town, then they walked to the back of the house. Jethro was sitting on the back porch with Mr. Stuart and Al Manson, the driver who had brought him from town. Joy was sitting on Mr. Stuart’s lap.
“Elsie didn’t like me. She wouldn’t play.”
“Honey, I don’t think Elsie knows how to play, but that’s going to change. I’m making arrangements for Elsie to go to a boarding school. She will see her mother every other weekend for a while. She’ll have work to do there, and I hope she will learn to get along and how to play with other little girls. I blame myself for not realizing sooner what Birdie was doing to Elsie.”
“Will she come back?” Joy asked. “I’ll swing her in my swing.”
“I don’t think she’ll be coming back for a long time. But it’s nice of you to want to play with her.
” Joe and the driver carried Birdie’s trunk and suitcase to the car.
“I’m so glad to be going home, Bobby,” Birdie gushed.
“Not as glad as we are,” Jill whispered for Julie’s ears alone, but her voice carried to Joe, who winked at her.
“It’s too bad you don’t have time to go over and meet Mrs. Stuart’s brother, Wilbur Humphrey,” Julie said.
“I’d have liked that.”
“Bobby! You won’t go
there
!” Birdie cried and grabbed his arm. “I don’t want to go
there
. I want to go home.”
Mr. Stuart freed his arm from Birdie’s grasp, shook hands with Jethro and Joe and tipped his hat to other members of the Jones family.
“Thank you for looking after my wife and daughter. Are you sure I don’t owe you something for their keep?”
“No, no.” Jethro made a waving motion with his hands.
“You’ve all been so sweet. Oh, I’m going to miss you all,” Birdie called from the back seat of the car.
As soon as Mr. Stuart got in, the car turned around in the barnyard before going down the lane. As it passed the house, Birdie leaned out the window and waved her handkerchief.
“ ’Bye, Jethro. ’Bye, Julie and Jill and Joy. ’Bye, everybody. ’Bye… .” She was still waving when the car turned onto the road toward town.
Julie looked for her father. He was going around the end of the house with his head bowed and his hands buried in the pockets of his overalls.
“Can you beat that?” Jill shook her head.
“No, I can’t. I’m just glad she’s gone. Let’s clean Papa’s room, Jill, and put his things back in it. It may make him feel better.
***
Deputy Weaver was leaning against the outside door of the courthouse when Corbin and the marshal reached it.
“Damn waste of time coolin’ my heels out here waitin’ for a
town cop
to come open a cell so I can talk to my prisoner.”
“Your prisoner?” Corbin lifted his brows and frowned. “He’s my suspect.”
“Call him what you want. He killed that old man and I want to talk to him.”
“So now you have a confession.” Corbin’s dislike of the deputy was growing.
“Give me thirty minutes alone with him in that cell and I’ll have a confession.”
“That might not be a bad idea, Marshal,” Corbin said. “I was told that Evan was bare-knuckle champion of his division during the war and that, in a barroom brawl, he’s a fightin’ son-of-a-gun. He’d be no pushover for you, Weaver, even with your billy club.”
The marshal was frowning at his deputy. “You know I’d never stand for that kind of monkeyshines.”
“It’s done every day, Marshal, you can believe it or not,” Weaver said. “I, for one, don’t believe in mollycoddling prisoners.”
“Just because it’s done, doesn’t make it right. What’er you wantin’ to talk to him about?”
“I’ve got two people who saw his car in town a little before two o’clock. Not that I think he’ll admit it. But if he lies about it, he’ll lie about other things.”
“He had to come through town to take Miss Jones home. He hasn’t denied that,” Corbin said.
“What are your ties with him, Appleby? Why are you always defending him?”
“Why are you so determined to find him guilty?”
“Because he is. Mrs. Stuart said that she’d swear Miss Jones was home. His car was seen by Gus Keegan. A member of your city council came to me and said he was guilty as hell.”
“Amos Wood, the banker. A shady character if there ever was one.”
“You don’t have Mrs. Stuart, Weaver. She’s gone back to Nashville with her husband. The car Gus Keegan saw only looked like Johnson’s, and Amos Wood has been sending moonshine whiskey downriver for a year or two. I’d not take his word for anything.” The marshal’s voice rose with his agitation. “We don’t have enough proof to arrest the banker and we don’t have enough to hold Evan Johnson. Turn him loose, Appleby.”
“You … you don’t mean that?” Weaver sputtered.
“I mean it, and you’re off the case. Go down to the main office. I’ll be there in a day or two.” Marshal Sanford looked his deputy in the eyes. “You were a pretty good man until a few months ago, Weaver. What happened to you?”
The deputy gave him a hard look, turned and walked away. The marshal and Corbin watched him go, then went into the courthouse to let Evan out of the holding room.