A Lady's Choice (14 page)

The dark interior of the church calmed him and sent a peaceful feeling rippling through his soul. He eased down the aisle, slid onto the bench where he'd sat all his life for services, and rested his crossed arms on the pew in front of him. He lowered his head until it lay atop his arms. He wanted to pray, but the words eluded him. Even if he could pray, he doubted God would want to hear from somebody like him who hadn't been in touch in four months.

He buried his face deeper in his crossed arms and thought of all the things Sarah had said to him. Then he thought of Ellen and how her face had looked yesterday when he'd ranted at her because she hadn't told him about her feelings for Edmund. He wondered if he would ever recover from the guilt gnawing at his heart for hurting the two women he loved.

The tap of footsteps on the wooden floor alerted him that someone had entered the church and now walked down the aisle toward where he sat. He looked up in surprise at the figure of Edmund Lancaster looming above him. “Hello, Edmund. What are you doing here?”

“Ellen was worried because you've been gone so long. She sent me to look for you. I saw your horse outside and thought I would see why you're here.”

Alex scooted over and motioned Edmund to sit beside him. “I took a ride on my horse for a while. I rode and did a lot of thinking. Then I went to see Sarah. Ellen had told me she was home for Christmas.”

Edmund's eyebrows arched. “And how did that go?”

“Not too well, I'm afraid. We both said some things that hurt. After I left Charlie's, I felt the need to come here and pray. For some reason, I can't find the words I want to say.”

They sat in silence for several minutes before Edmund spoke. “Alex, Ellen's worried about you. You've taken this breakup with Sarah a lot harder than she thought you would. She's afraid your health is going to be affected if you don't get your emotions under control.”

Alex rubbed his hand across his tired eyes. “It's not just Sarah and her silly cause. It's the pressures of my new job and all the hours I'm putting in trying to become a valuable member of the firm. Then I come home and find out the boy I intended to run the farm for me wants to enlist in the army. And then I get the biggest shock of all when Ellen tells me she wants to marry you. It's too much at one time.”

“I know what it's like when you're first starting out in a new job. I remember when I got out of medical school and joined a practice in Memphis. I worked long hours just like you've done to prove myself. I found out I was neglecting important things in my life, things I could never get back.”

Alex swiveled in his seat and stared at Edmund. “Like what?”

“Oh, like spending time with my family. Enjoying the blessings of each day. I even got to the point where I didn't read my Bible and pray like I should. I strayed from my faith for a while, I'm afraid.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sarah accused me of pretending to be a Christian and said the prayers she'd heard me pray were pompous. But I believe in God, and I love Him with all my heart. Over the past few months, though, I've felt like He's deserted me. He's left me to deal with my problems all alone.”

Edmund looked at the cross on the communion table at the front of the church and back at Alex. “No matter how committed we are to God, we can let circumstances in our lives lead us away from Him if we're not careful. It happened to me, and I had to realize it wasn't God that had deserted me. I had deserted Him.”

“How did you get back to the place where you'd been in your relationship with God before?”

Edmund took a deep breath. “I had to take each of my problems and lay them at His feet. I had to come to the point that I realized I couldn't control what was happening to me, and I had to place it all in His hands. When I did that, my whole life changed. You've suffered a lot of changes in your life in the last year, and you're not coping very well. Why don't you turn it all over to God?”

Alex bent over and leaned on the pew in front of him. “I want to do that, but right now I don't even know where to start.”

Edmund sat silent for a minute. “Well, why don't we deal with one thing at a time? Let's talk about Augie first. Ellen told me you found him alone in a sharecropper's house after his father had deserted him. His mother was dead, and he had no relatives, so you brought him home. You and Ellen gave him a place to live, fed him, and accepted him as one of the family. Did you remind him every day of what you'd done for him and ask him to sign a lifetime commitment to you for your kindness?”

Alex sat up, his back straight. “Of course not. I wanted to help him.”

“And you have, Alex. You've helped him develop into a fine young man, one who wants to test his wings and fly out into the world. You don't want him to live his life just to help you.”

“But what will I do about the farm if he leaves? I need someone to run it for me, and I was depending on him to do that.”

Edmund turned his body in the pew to face Alex. “God has given you a brilliant mind, Alex. You have a job in a prestigious law firm, and I know you're going to do well. If God has gone to all the trouble to provide you with these things, don't you believe He's a big enough God to provide a plan for your farm?”

Alex hung his head. “I know that in my heart. But I worry about the tenant farmers and who will oversee them.” He stared up at Edmund. “And I feel guilty for leaving Ellen alone with it while I was away in school. Now I'm in Memphis, and I worry about crops that need to be planted and harvested. And the more I worry, the more alone I feel. What's happened to me?”

Edmund reached out and touched Alex's shoulder. “You're human, Alex. When we take our eyes off the example Jesus gave, we all tend to feel alone and desperate.”

“Sometimes I question why God doesn't change things the way I want, and I begin to lose my faith in Him.”

“What do you want God to change?”

“One thing I'd have Him change is Sarah's determination about this suffrage thing, and I'd take care of her and Ellen. I wanted to do well and make money so I could give Ellen the things I've always wanted her to have—a big house, clothes, a chance to travel.” He frowned at Edmund. “But she doesn't want anything from me anymore. She wants to marry you.”

“Ellen's faith brought the two of you through a lot of hard years. She gave up a lot for you, Alex, but she never meant for you to repay her with money and possessions. All she wants is some happiness of her own. You hurt her with your attitude about our wedding.”

Anger flared in Alex. “That's your fault, Edmund. I'm the head of our family, and you should have spoken to me before you said anything to Ellen.”

Edmund's face showed no emotion. “Maybe the reason you're angry with Sarah and Ellen is because you've never really come to terms with your feelings about women.”

Alex's face grew warm, and his pulse pounded. “What do you mean by that remark? Sarah's off working for some harebrained idea that doesn't amount to a hill of beans, when she could've been my wife. I would've made her happy. Ellen forgot her place by not asking my permission to marry.”

Edmund waited for Alex to finish his tirade before he continued. “Forgot her place? Sarah working for a harebrained idea? Alex, the world is changing. The promise of individual rights built this nation. Right now, only men have the privilege to vote, yet women must adhere to the same laws as they do.”

“Yes, I've certainly heard that from Sarah.” There was no disguising the disgust in his voice.

Edmund's quiet voice continued. “Ellen raised you to study the Bible and believe the Word of God. Think back, Alex, to how it was before Jesus came. Women were nothing more than chattel. They held no rights. They couldn't testify in court because of their lowly estate. Jesus changed all that.”

“What are you getting at, Edmund?”

Edmund looked toward the cross on the communion table, and his eyes glistened. “On the morning of the resurrection, Jesus revealed Himself to two women and charged them with the duty of telling everyone He had risen. Think about it. He entrusted His glorious message to mankind to those the government prohibited from even speaking in a court of law.”

Alex pondered Edmund's words. “I never thought of it like that.”

“If Jesus loved women that much and raised them to such a place of honor, how can we do any differently? I don't know what will happen with Sarah and her fight. But she believes it's important, and for that reason we should support her.”

Edmund placed his hand on Alex's shoulder. “As for Ellen, your sister has devoted her life to you, but you don't own her. She can make her own decisions without your approval. We hope you'll be happy for us. If you choose otherwise, it will make no difference in our commitment to each other. We plan to be married next month and hope you'll attend the ceremony. Let us know.”

With that, Edmund stood up and walked out of the church. Alex sat in the pew thinking of all Edmund said. A feeling of guilt and shame surged through him.

He moved to the front of the church and fell to the floor. He prostrated himself at the altar and groaned as his heart and mind wrestled with the doctor's words. Was Edmund right?

Sarah had been honest with him since the day of the picnic about her commitment to suffrage, but he had never tried to understand the depth of her allegiance. Instead he had judged her feelings in light of his own desires, the same as he did with Ellen. He had never given a thought to understanding why Sarah felt driven to work for suffrage. His unhappiness over his failure to keep Sarah with him had driven him to lash out at Ellen in his fear of being left alone.

Minutes ticked by, and a battle waged inside him. Finally spent from his ordeal, he cried out in prayer. “Father, I've failed to follow Your teachings. Forgive my selfishness. Help me to serve You.”

A peace flowed into his heart as he raised his head and looked at the cross at the front of the church.

He had no answers to how the problems in his life would be solved, but he knew God had promised to be with him. He lifted his eyes toward heaven. “Thank You, Lord, for reminding me of how far I've strayed from the path You set me on. Guide me to where You want me to be.”

After a few minutes, he rose and walked up the aisle. He had much to atone for, and perhaps some things would never be changed. Right now, his first action required asking Ellen's forgiveness.

Sarah didn't know why she had insisted on coming back to Memphis so soon. She could very well have missed the suffrage meetings, but then she might have seen Alex again. Another confrontation with him was more than she could bear.

After two days back at the school, Sarah felt restless. She glanced around the dining room, where she sat alone at the big table and sipped her morning coffee. It seemed strange without the chatter of the boarding students, but of course they were still home with their families for the holidays.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Dora Campbell entered. “Do you want anything else to eat, Miss Sarah? Maybe some more coffee?”

Sarah held up her cup and studied Dora as she poured the coffee. Her dress hung on her gaunt figure, and her brown hair lay piled underneath the ruffled cap she wore. Her arms, strong from years of heavy lifting, held a silver coffeepot in her hands. Sarah smiled at the young girl who worked in the kitchen. “Did you have an enjoyable Christmas, Dora?”

The girl shrugged. “I spent most of the day in my room by myself.”

Sarah took a sip of coffee and set her cup in the saucer. “Don't you have any family?”

“No, ma'am. But it was a good day.” She smiled, and Sarah was struck by how big her eyes looked in her narrow face. “It's always a good day when you can rest.” She reached for Sarah's plate. “If you're through with this, Miss Sarah, I'll take it back to the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Dora. Thank Mrs. Thompson for fixing my breakfast even though I was the only one eating.”

Dora nodded and turned back to the kitchen, but she stopped before she got to the door. “Oh, I forgot to tell you something.”

“What?”

She walked back to the table. “There was a policeman here to see you while you were gone. He said he was investigating Christine's murder and wanted to talk with you. I told him you'd be back after Christmas.”

Sarah rose from her chair and faced Dora. “Did he say if they'd found out who killed Christine?”

“No, ma'am. I don't think they have because there was another girl killed down on Beale right before Christmas.”

Sarah gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Was it similar to Christine's murder?”

“Well, I don't rightly know, ma'am. I heard the maids talking about it. They said she was strangled. Was that how Miss Christine was killed?”

“Yes.” Sarah propped a shaky hand on the table to steady herself.

Dora frowned and shook her head. “That was a shame what happened to Miss Christine. She was so nice to the help here. Always giving us little gifts. Nothing expensive. Just little trinkets, like that pin she wore all the time.”

Sarah pulled her thoughts away from Christine and directed her attention back to Dora. “What pin?”

“She had this little pin that she wore on her dress every day. I asked her about it once, and she said it was in a box of her belongings when she was delivered to the orphanage. She didn't know who it belonged to, but she always liked to believe it had been her mother's.”

Sarah's eyes grew wide. “I remember that pin. It was in the shape of a bow and had stones that looked like diamonds set in it. But I never thought they were real diamonds. Maybe they were.”

Dora stepped closer. “Do you think somebody might have killed Miss Christine for her pin?”

“I don't know. Did Detective Baker want me to call him?”

“He didn't say, Miss Sarah.”

Sarah took a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me, Dora.”

“You're welcome.” She turned and hurried through the door toward the kitchen.

Sarah didn't move for a few minutes as she thought about Christine's death and now the death of another woman. She glanced at the clock on the sideboard, and a plan formed in her mind. With everyone away and Mrs. Simpson out for the day, she had nothing to do.

She ran from the dining room and up the stairs to her bedroom, where she put on her coat and hat and grabbed her handbag. Hurrying downstairs, she was almost to the front door when Dora's voice called out to her.

“Miss Sarah, are you going out?”

She turned and nodded. “Yes, I thought I'd get out of the house for a while. I don't know if I'll be back in time for the noon meal or not.”

Dora frowned. “B–but what will I tell Mrs. Simpson if she asks?”

“Just tell her I went out for a while.”

Before Dora could ask more questions, Sarah slipped out the front door and headed to the streetcar stop a few blocks down. There had been another death near downtown, and for some reason the detective investigating the cases had come to see her. She had to know why.

Sarah got off the streetcar and stared at the imposing building on the corner of Adams and Second Street. She'd passed the Police Department's Central Station many times, but she'd never been inside. Several Model T Fords sat next to the curb along Second Street, and Sarah recognized them as being like the one Detective Baker had been in when he came to Mrs. Simpson's house.

She climbed the wide, stone steps that led between tall columns to the entrance and stepped inside the reception area. Her footsteps tapped across the marble entrance as she headed to a desk where a uniformed officer sat. He looked up at her when she stopped in front of him.

“Yes, ma'am, may I help you?”

She swallowed and rubbed her lips together. “I'd like to speak with Detective Baker, please.”

He picked up a telephone and directed a bored gaze in her direction. “What's the name?”

“Sarah Whittaker.”

She turned away and studied her surroundings while the officer was on the phone. A man sat on a bench against the far wall of the room. His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands were clasped before him. His shoulders shook with sobs as a police officer talked quietly to him. Sarah tore her gaze away from the man's distress and glanced at the staircase toward the back of the room.

A woman descended, and Sarah was struck by the thin coat she wore. That wouldn't shield her from the cold December wind very well. The woman stopped about halfway down the stairs and grabbed the banister. For a moment she stood with her eyes closed and her lips clamped together. Then she raised a shaking hand and wiped at the tears running down her cheeks. Sarah quickly averted her gaze, but it was too late. The woman had seen her. Out of the corner of her eye Sarah watched as the woman straightened her shoulders and continued her descent. She held her head high as she strode past Sarah and out the front door.

“Miss Whittaker.” Sarah whirled in surprise at the sound of her name. The officer behind the desk frowned. “I said, Detective Baker will see you now.”

“Thank you. Where do I go?”

“Up the stairs and to the left. It's the second room on your right.”

Sarah hurried across the lobby and up the steps. Detective Baker stood at the door of the office waiting for her. He smiled and motioned her inside. “Miss Whittaker, I didn't realize you had gotten back.”

She followed him into the office and sat in a chair facing his desk. He sank down in the one behind his desk. “Yes. I understand you came to see me while I was gone. Have you learned anything new about my father's death?”

He shook his head. “Nothing new, but I did want to ask you a question. I seem to remember when your father died, you kept mentioning that something he carried was missing. I've looked through all the notes on the case, but evidently it wasn't written down.”

“It was a commemorative coin his father brought back from the 1884 World Industrial and Cotton Exposition in New Orleans. He always had it in his pocket, but it wasn't on his body. What made you ask?”

Detective Baker propped his elbows on his desk and tented his fingers. “I was curious. Your father's office wasn't too far from Beale Street. We've had several murders occur down there in the past few years, and I couldn't help but think how close your father worked to the area.”

Sarah sat on the edge of her chair. “I've never accepted the fact that my father killed himself. I believe someone pushed him out the window.”

“Or killed him first and then threw him out the window.” He straightened in his chair. “But of course, that's just a suspicion. I don't have any proof. Can you think of anybody who would hate your father enough to want to kill him?”

Sarah had asked herself that question many times in the last two years. She searched her mind again, and then she remembered. “Right before my father's death, he made his will and asked his cousin to be the executor. Last summer we discovered this cousin had been stealing our money. Do you think he could have killed my father to get to the money he left us?”

Detective Baker picked up a pen and pulled a notepad closer. “What's your cousin's name?”

“Raymond Whittaker. But he's in jail on embezzlement charges, or at least I think he is.”

“Let me check on that. I'll be right back.” The detective pushed to his feet and strode to the door.

Time seemed to drag as she waited in the office for Detective Baker's return. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, he reappeared. He sat back down and exhaled through clenched teeth. “Your cousin is still in jail. So that means he couldn't have committed the last two murders. He could be a suspect in your father's death, though. We'll question him about that.”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at Sarah. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk with me about today?”

“Yes.” She frowned and leaned forward. “I've always been puzzled about my father's coin not being accounted for. I wondered if there was anything missing from Christine's body or the other woman who was recently murdered?”

“Like what?”

Sarah took a deep breath. “Maybe something she had with her all the time. Like a…a keepsake of some kind.” Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide. “Christine had a bow-shaped pin she wore all the time. It was on her dress every day at school. Was it on her body?”

Detective Baker exhaled. “Her landlady asked the same question. No, the pin wasn't on her dress.”

Sarah swallowed back the embarrassment she felt at what she wanted to say next. “Detective Baker, the article in the paper about Christine's death made it sound like she wasn't a nice person.” She hesitated and took a deep breath. “I want you to know that she wasn't a prostitute.”

His dark eyes held a solemn look. “I know that.”

Sarah sighed in relief. “G–good. I didn't want her remembered that way. She was a sweet girl who had a difficult childhood. She was trying to make a life for herself.”

He nodded. “Yes, I believe that. She happened to meet up with somebody who had no regard for human life.”

“But I can't figure out what Christine was doing on Beale Street. It's not the kind of place I'd think she'd enjoy.”

Detective Baker nodded. “I have trouble with that too. It's possible she was killed somewhere else, and her body left where she'd be found.”

Sarah thought about the possibility for a moment. “That makes sense. I heard there was another girl murdered over the holidays.”

“Yes. We've had at least four women murdered during the past few years.”

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her so intently she fidgeted in her chair. “Is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking about the murder victims. They were all so young, about your age, I'd say.”

Sarah sank back in her chair. “Did they have missing items?”

“The mother of the most recent victim was just here. She wondered about a small ruby ring that her daughter always wore. The girl's father gave it to her right before he died. Her mother said she never took it off, but it wasn't on her finger.”

Sarah remembered the crying woman she'd seen downstairs, and her heart pricked at the agony she must be in. “Detective Baker, do you think there's a killer in Memphis who takes a souvenir from each of his victims?”

“I don't know, Miss Whittaker, but I intend to find out.”