Morning Glory (60 page)

 
It didn't take fifteen minutes for Robert Collins to ascertain the few facts known by the women and inform them that he'd be at the jail as soon as possible to talk to Will and make his decision about defending him.

 
Before that hour was up, Elly herself was standing in Sheriff Goodloe's office with another jar of honey in her hand. He was deep in conversation with his deputy but looked up as she entered. Straightening, he began, "Now, Elly, I told you at your house you can't see him till you got a lawyer."

 
She set the jar of honey on his desk. "I came to apologize." She looked him soberly in the eyes. "About an hour ago I called you a pissant when actually I've always had a fair deal of respect for you. I always meant to thank you for gettin' me out of that house I grew up in, but this's the first chance I got." She gestured toward the honey. "That's for that. It's got nothin' to do with Will, but I want to see him."

 
"Elly, I told you—"

 
"I know what you told me, but I thought about what kind of laws they are that let you lock up a person without letting him explain to people what really happened. I know all about being locked up like that. It ain't fair, Mr. Goodloe, and you know it. You're a fair man. You were the only person ever stood up for me when they kept me in that house and let the whole town think I was crazy because of it. Well, I ain't. The crazy ones are the ones who make laws that keep a wife from seeing her husband when he's in the pit of despair, which is what my Will is right now. I'm not askin' you to open his door or put us in a private room. I'm not even askin' you to leave us alone. All I'm askin' is what's fair."

 
Goodloe glanced from her to the honey. He plopped tiredly into his chair and ran his hands over his face in frustation. "Now, dang it, Elly, I got regulations—"

 
"Aw, let her talk to him," the deputy interrupted, fixing a slight smile on Elly. "What's it gonna hurt?" Sheriff Goodloe swung a glance at the younger man, who shrugged and added, "She's right and you know it. It's not fair." Then, to Elly's surprise, the younger man came forward, extending a hand. "Remember me? Jimmy Ray Hess. We were in fifth grade together. Speaking of fair, I'm one of those who used to call you names, and if you can apologize, so can I."

 
Astounded, she shook his hand.

 
"Jimmy Ray Hess," she repeated in wonder. "Well, I'll be."

 
"That's right." He proudly thumbed the star on his shirt. "Deputy sheriff of
Gordon
County
now." In friendly fashion he swung back to his superior. "What d'you say, Reece—can she see him?"

 
Reece Goodloe succumbed and flapped a hand. "Aw, hell, sometimes I wonder who's the boss around here. All right, take her in."

 
The deputy beamed and led the way from the office. "Come along. Elly, I'll show you the way.

 
Walking along beside Jimmy Ray, Elly felt her faith in mankind restored. She counted those who'd helped her today—
Lydia
, Miss Beasley, Robert Collins, and now Jimmy Ray Hess.

 
"Why are you doing this, Jimmy Ray?" she asked.

 
"Your husband—he was a Marine, wasn't he?"

 
"That's right—First Raiders."

 
Jimmy Ray flashed her a crooked grin oozing with latent pride. "Gunnery Sergeant Jimmy Ray Hess, Charlie Company, First Marines, at your service, ma' am." Giving her a smart salute, he opened the last door leading into the jail. "Third on the left," he advised, then closed the door, leaving her alone in the corridor fronting a long row of cells.

 
She had never been in a jail before. It was dank and dismal. It echoed and smelled bad. It dampened the spirits momentarily lifted by Jimmy Ray Hess.

 
Even before she reached Will her heart hurt. When she saw him, curled on his cot with his back to the bars, it was like looking at herself on her knees in that place, praying forgiveness for something she didn't do.

 
"Hello, Will," she said quietly.

 
Startled, he glanced over his shoulder, carefully schooling all reaction, then faced the wall again. "I thought they weren't gonna let you in here."

 
Elly felt as if her heart would break. "That what you wanted?" When he refused to answer, she added, "Reckon I know why."

 
Will swallowed and stared at the wall, feeling a clot of emotion fill his throat. "Go on, get out of here. I don't want you to see me in here."

 
"Neither do I, but now that I have, I got some questions need asking."

 
Coldly he said to the wall, "Yeah, like did I kill that bitch. Was I carrying on with her." He laughed mirthlessly, then threw over his shoulder: "Well, you can just go on wondering, because if that's all the faith you have in me, I don't need your kind of wife."

 
Remorse spread its hot charges through Elly. With it came sudden, stinging tears. "Why didn't you tell me about her, Will, back when it happened, when she came to the library? If you had, it wouldn't've been such a surprise to me today."

 
Abruptly he swung to his feet and confronted her with fists balled and veins standing out sharply on his throat. "I shouldn't have to tell you I
didn't
do things! You should know by what I
do do
what kind of man I am! But all you had to hear was one word from that sheriff to think I was guilty, didn't you? I saw it in your eyes, Elly, so don't deny it."

 
"I won't," she whispered, ashamed, while he took up a frenzied pacing, driving a hand through his streaked yellow hair.

 
"Christ, you're my wife! Do you know what it did to me when you looked at me that way, like I was some—some murderer?"

 
She had never seen him angry before, nor so desolate. More than anything she wanted to touch him, reassure him, but he paced back and forth between the side walls like a penned animal, well out of reach. She closed her hand over a black iron bar. "Will, I'm sorry. But I'm human, ain't I? I make mistakes like anybody else. But I came here to unmake 'em and to tell you I'm sorry it crossed my mind you coulda done it 'cause it didn't take me three minutes after they took you away to realize you couldn't of. Not you—not my Will."

 
Coming to an abrupt halt, Will pinned her with damning brown eyes. His hair stood
disheveled
. His fists were still knotted as he and Elly faced off, doing silent battle while he fought the urge to rush across the cell and touch her, crush her hands beneath his on the iron bars, draw from her the sustenance he needed to face the night, and tomorrow, and whatever light lay ahead. But the hurt within him was still too engulfing. So he returned in a cold, bitter voice, "Yeah, well, you were three minutes too late, Elly, cause I don't care what you think anymore." It was a lie which hurt him as badly as it hurt her. He saw the shock riffle across her face and steeled himself against rushing to her with an apology, taking her face between his hands and kissing her between the bars that separated them.

 
"You don't mean that, Will," she whispered through trembling lips.

 
"Don't I?" he shot back, telling himself to disregard the tears that made her wide green eyes look bright as dew-kissed grass. "I'll leave you to go home and wonder, just like I laid here and wondered if you meant it!"

 
For several inescapable seconds, while their hearts thundered, they stared at each other, hurting, loving, fearful. Then she swallowed and dropped her hand from the bar, stepped back and spoke levelly. "All right, Will, I'll leave if that what you want. But first just answer me one question. Who do you think killed her?"

 
"I don't know." He stood like a ramrod, too stubborn to take the one step necessary to end this self-imposed hell
. Don't go, I didn't mean it, I don't know why I said it ... oh, God, Elly, I love you so much.

 
"If you wanna see me, tell Jimmy Ray Hess. He'll get word to me."

 
Only when she was gone did he relent. Tears came as he spun to the wall, pressing fists and forearms high against it, burying his thumb knuckies hard in his eyesockets.
Elly, Elly—don't believe me! I care so much what you think of me that I'd rather be dead than have you see me in this place
.

* * *

Miss Beasley had obligingly waited in the car. Returning to it, Elly looked pale and shaken.

 
"What is it, Eleanor?"

 
Elly stared woodenly out the windshield. "I did Will wrong," she answered dully.

 
"Did him wrong? Why, whatever are you talking about?"

 
"When the sheriff came out to our place and said
Lula
Peak
was dead. You see, it crossed my mind for just a minute that Will might have done it. I didn't say so, but I didn't have to. Will saw it in my face, and now he won't talk to me." Elly tightened her lips to keep her chin from shaking.

 
"Won't talk to you, but—"

 
"Oh, he yelled some, got it off his chest how much I hurt him. But he stayed clear across the cell and wouldn't take my hand or smile or anything. He said didn't matter to him anymore what I th-think." She covered her eyes and dropped her head.

 
Miss Beasley grew incensed at Will's callousness and took Elly's shoulder.

 
"Now you listen here, young woman. You didn't do anything that any normal human being wouldn't have done."

 
"But I should've trusted him better!"

 
"So you experienced a moment of doubt. Any woman would have done the same."

 
"But you didn't!"

 
"Don't be an imbecile, Eleanor. Of course I did."

 
Surprise brought Elly's head up. Though her eyes were streaming, she swiped at them with a sleeve. "You did?"

 
"Well, of course I did," Gladys lied. "Who wouldn't? Half of this town will. It means we shall only have to fight harder to prove they're wrong."

 
Miss Beasley's staunchness suddenly put starch in Elly's spine. She sniffed and mopped her eyes. "That durn husband of mine wouldn't even tell me if he suspected anybody." With the return of control, Elly began rationalizing. "Who could've done it, Miss Beasley? I got to find out somehow. That's the only way I know to get Will back. Who should I start with?"

 
"How about Norris and Nat? They've been sitting on that park bench for years, watching
Lula
Peak
point her bodice at anything in pants that came along the sidewalk. I'm sure they'd know down to the exact second how long it took her to follow Mr. Parker into the library every time he brought me eggs, and also how long it took her to come back out looking like a singed cat."

 
"They would?"

 
"Of course they would."

 
Elly digested the idea, then had one of her own. "And they're in charge of the town guard, aren't they?"

 
Miss Beasley's face lit with excitement. "Prowling around town at night, listening for airplane engines, looking through binoculars and checking blackout curtains."

 
Elly tossed her a hopeful glance, tinged with anticipation. "And chasing curfew violators off the streets?"

 
"Exactly!"

 
Elly started the engine. "Let's go."

* * *

They found Norris and Nat MacReady soaking up the late afternoon sun on their usual bench in the square. Each received a quart jar of pure gold
Georgia
honey in exchange for which they gladly revealed the startling details of an overheard conversation behind the library one night last January. They had been together so long they might have had a single brain at work between them, for what one began, the other finished.

 
"Norris and I," Nat said, "were walking along

 
"—when a high-heeled shoe sailed out and clunked me on the shoulder. Nat can testify to the fact—"

 
"'Cause he had a purple bruise there for well over four weeks."

 
"Now, Nat," chided Norris, "you might be stretching it a bit. I don't think it was over three."

 
Nat bristled. "Three! Your memory is failing, boy. It was there a full four, 'cause if you'll recall, I commented on it the day we—"