Miss Julia Lays Down the Law (26 page)

Turning onto Summit Avenue, I began castigating myself for having suspected Pastor Ledbetter—how could I have done that? And why had I beaten myself to a pulp over keeping his secret when it hadn’t amounted to a hill of beans? For days I’d let myself roil around in a state of turmoil over telling on him or not telling. But that’s what comes from being a person of high moral character, and I guessed I’d do it again given the same circumstances.

I turned off Summit onto Polk, then made a left turn into my own driveway. My heart sped up at the sight of Sam’s car, and I hurried inside the house. The kitchen was empty—maybe Lillian had made a tactful retreat—so I hurried through it calling my beloved’s name.

He met me in the hall, and let me just say that we had quite a nice reunion. It took some time, however, after we were seated together on the leather sofa in the library, for me to tell Sam all that had happened in the few days, which I readily admit seemed much longer, that he had been gone. Sam was highly impressed with Coleman’s acuity in being able to turn a murder into an accident, all because he’d seen an aged woman struggle to her feet. And Sam was delighted to hear about Lamar Owens—at least the part he played in the events that I chose to tell.

As for the night runner, Sam, like me, wasn’t so sure that the man had chosen our street on which to run simply in order to admire the gracious homes along the way. We decided that it was more than likely that Stan Clayborn really had suspected me of some complicity in his wife’s death and was keeping an eye on me. I shuddered at the thought, but felt safe enough with Sam home and Lieutenant Peavey satisfied with the conclusion of the Clayborn case.

As for Pastor Larry Ledbetter—well! Sam was irate at our pastor’s unconscionable behavior toward me, and he even went so far as to spring to his feet, ready to track him down and forcibly express his displeasure.

“It’s all right, Sam,” I said. “Really it is. He’s more to be pitied than condemned. His heart was in the right place, wanting to take care of Emma Sue and to preserve his position in the church—we really can’t blame him for that. He just had too high an opinion of that position and got his priorities wrong.”

I drew Sam back down beside me and held his hand. “The only thing that I
would
blame him for,” I went on, “is the way he treats Emma Sue, but she pretty much put him in his place at Mildred’s. I just hope she’ll stick to it. Anyway, he wanted to take Connie down a peg or two—as did we all—but he turned out to be the one who got taken down, which might prove the best thing that could’ve happened.”

“Well,” Sam said, pulling me close, “I intend to let him know that I don’t appreciate the untenable position in which he put you. And I’ll tell you something else, Julia, this is the last time I’m leaving you alone. From now on, when I have to go somewhere, you’re going with me. You get into too much trouble when I’m gone.”

“Yes, but I manage to get out of it, at least so far. Mainly because, I readily admit, of having friends in high places.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, comforted by having him home. “But I missed you, Sam. I really missed you.”

After a while, Sam said, “Hold on a minute. I have something for you.”

He went out into the hall and returned with a professionally wrapped package. “I hope you like it, honey. We didn’t have time to look around much, but there was a nice shop next to the hotel. So I brought a gift for my sweetheart.”

I quickly unwrapped it, deeply appreciative of his thinking of me while engrossed in discussions of judicial appointments, visiting with old classmates, and lunching with the governor. I carefully folded back the tissue paper under the lid, and there was Sam’s thoughtful gift—the last thing I would’ve ever expected.

“Oh, Sam,” I said, pulling it out to its full length and admiring its softness and distinctive design. “A Burberry scarf! How did you know it’s what I’ve always wanted?”

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