The River Widow(66)



“I understand.”

Adah stood and wrapped the bundle of letters in her apron.

Walking away from Kate, Adah knew she had accomplished something significant. She hadn’t been followed. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her as she walked back through town, looking upward at telephone and power lines that connected the buildings like the outstretched filaments of spiders, and she began walking toward Lone Oak.

She would stop at Jack Darby’s house and read the letters. She daren’t take them back to the house with her.

Even though Adah was able to catch a ride with another passing farmer, it was still nearly an hour before she could sit on Jack’s front-porch steps and open the first letter, postmarked most recently. Trembling, Adah unfolded it and began quickly reading. H eart thumping up high in her throat, she saw that Betsy’s mother had enclosed money for her daughter and granddaughter to move to Louisville. She had warned her daughter to be careful and come straight away, as fast as she could.

Adah sucked in a hot, shaky breath. The money was not there, so Betsy had taken it. And now it was evident: Betsy Branch had been in the process of leaving Lester when she was killed.

Adah skimmed through other letters and soon learned all that she needed to know. D oris had written such things as A good man never strikes a woman ; He could do some permanent damage, or he could kill you ; That place in that man’s house is no place for you and Daisy ; and Don’t think twice. Leave him. We’ll make do here .

There was no reason to read more just then. Adah slipped the last letter she’d skimmed back into its envelope and looked to Jack, who had come in from his cornfield and now stood before her.

She gazed up into his backlit silhouette, his face in shadow, and said, “I have it, Jack. I have something here.”

As he came closer a strange euphoria fell over her. His shape, his movements, the anticipation of his close proximity made her giddy. Pushing those feelings aside, she stared out into the yard that was gathering the twilight. She watched the first firefly blink in the blue-gray air.

He sat beside her while she relayed securing Esther’s help and then getting the letters from Kate, and he listened in silence, without even nodding his head.

He removed his hat and fanned himself with it. “There’s no definite proof that Lester killed her. It certainly provides a motive, though. These show without a doubt she was packing up and giving up on him.”

Adah nodded. “But I’m not going to the police or the sheriff with this.”

He rubbed his chin, the beginnings of an evening stubble catching the sunlight.

“What I need is leverage, something to bargain with. When I make my escape, I want there to be something I can hang over them so they don’t follow me or report Daisy as having been kidnapped. I can always threaten to expose them as moonshiners, but I’m not sure that’s enough.”

Jack said, “Yes, we’ve discussed this before. They probably have some of local law enforcement bribed off.”

“I need more to hang over them. These letters could be that.”

“But there’s nothing in those letters that clashes with the Branches’ cover-up story. The crime hadn’t even happened yet.”

“Yes, but do you think the Branches would want these letters to be made public? It would ruin their dead son’s reputation and also question the way she died. Supposedly she died on the Branches’ farm, and who would believe that ‘accident’ story after having read these letters? I’m talking about the court of public opinion.”

Somber, Jack breathed out, “People are already wary of them, but I’m not sure the Branches are wise enough to recognize it. This would set them apart in a way that even they would be able to see. Yes, I understand what you mean.”

“They don’t love Daisy anyway. They’re cruel to her. They just want to win. And if I can disappear and leave a note saying that the letters are in safekeeping but can be brought out at any time, I’m thinking the Branches wouldn’t want to take a chance on coming after me and making the entire community suspect them.”

His face was starting to darken. “It’s risky. No telling what the Branches might do. And since people don’t like them much anyway, maybe they won’t care about those letters.”

“The Branches will care. Mabel will care. They wouldn’t want to be seen as murderers , and even if these letters don’t provide definite proof of murder, they still make it clear that Betsy was being beaten and was planning to leave with Daisy. Most people will be able to put two and two together, and taken with what you could say about the day of Betsy’s death, I think everyone in town will know what happened to Betsy. It could ruin Jesse’s wedding plans; it could ruin everything for them.”

Jack gazed down at his grasped hands between his knees. “I guess you’re right. It’s a real threat.” He glanced up. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Will you keep these letters for me? When I escape I’ll leave a note saying that someone in town has them and will give them to the police and the newspaper if they try to get me for kidnapping. It’s my only card to play.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions about what they’ll do,” Jack said, and then his voice lowered and eased, “but of course I’ll do anything you ask.” There was a sad sinking of the skin at the corners of his eyes.

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