Breaking Matthew (7 page)

She shrugged as casually as if I’d asked her about the weather. “Just told him what happened.”

“Well he seems to think you left some things out.”

“I told him everything.”

“You sure?”

She glanced at me. Then she dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap, saying nothing more. In the past, when she didn’t want to tell me something, she’d go completely silent. About drove me crazy sometimes. I’d never known her to tell a lie. But then again, I had to wonder if I really knew her anymore. 

“Ruby, what exactly happened in that barn?”

“I told you already.” She fidgeted with her hands.

“Why did you even go in there? Did you see him go in there first? Was he already there when you went inside?”

Ruby threw her hands up and began pacing back and forth beside the cot. “Good grief! You sound just like the sheriff! I told him the same thing I told you. I went into the barn looking for James ’cause I’d just left Emma Rae and the baby. He wasn’t in there. When I turned to leave, Chester was coming toward me, and he attacked me. Just like he did before in the woods.”

“How did he end up with a knife in his chest?”

She stopped pacing and put her hands over her eyes. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember it exactly. He had the knife and came at me, so I kicked my feet at him. I must have kicked the knife into his chest or something.”

And there it was: the gaping hole in her story. The whole thing sounded fishy, even to me, and even knowing Chester had attacked her before. How was she ever going to convince twelve jurors to believe that story, if it came down to that?

The door swung open and Sheriff Peterson stepped inside with a man who looked vaguely familiar. I’d seen his silver hair and mustache somewhere before, but I couldn’t quite place them. He had to be about my father’s age. Maybe they knew each other. As the two men approached, Sheriff Peterson called out to Ruby. She came over to the bars, her face revealing the smallest hint of worry. I stood and nodded to the sheriff.

“This is Solicitor Charles Garrett,” Sheriff Peterson said. “He’ll be prosecuting your case, Miss Ruby.”

“So the grand jury indicted her?” I said. “You have to be joking!”

Mr. Garrett raised his eyebrows. “And just who are you?”

“Matthew Doyle. I’m Ruby’s friend.”

“Doyle?” Mr. Garrett glanced at Sheriff Peterson. “Patrick Doyle’s boy?” I nodded, and he seemed to consider that for a moment before turning his attention to Ruby. “Miss Graves, you’ve been indicted on a charge of murder. You’ll be assigned a lawyer by tomorrow morning. Bond’s been set at four thousand.”

Ruby let out a small gasp at the same time my head nearly exploded. “What? That’s insane! There ain’t no way she should have that high a bond.”

“I assure you, Mr. Doyle, that the bond is perfectly within reason given the charge,” Mr. Garrett said. “Now if you will excuse us, I have some questions I need to ask Miss Graves.”

“No, that’s not how this is supposed to go,” I said. “I ain’t no expert, but I know she should have her own lawyer here if she’s answering any questions.”

Mr. Garrett exchanged a look with Sheriff Peterson, who put a hand on my shoulder. “Now listen, son. Miss Ruby’s in good hands, and she’s gonna be just fine. I’ll look after her myself. It’s just a few preliminary questions. Nothing to get worked up over. Now, why don’t you go on and fill her mother and uncle in on the situation? I’m about to have to close up for the evening anyhow. You can come on back in the morning and visit.”

As he talked, my muscles tightened beneath his hands. I wanted to punch him in the mouth. Did he think I was stupid or something? I pointed a finger at Ruby. “You ain’t got to answer any of their questions, you hear? Don’t say nothing till you have a lawyer with you.”

“All right, son—” Mr. Garrett started.

“Don’t call me son. I know what you’re trying to get away with, and I ain’t gonna stand for it.” I looked at Ruby again. “I’ll have you out of here in a jiffy. You just stay strong, and don’t say nothing.”

I pushed past the sheriff and Mr. Garrett for the door with only one thing on my mind. With or without Father’s help, I was getting Ruby out of that cell by the next day.

When I got home that afternoon, I went to Father’s office to use the telephone. I rang the Paschal’s home in Montgomery, reaching their butler, Abe. He’d served them for so many years, his hearing was about gone, so I had to holler a bit before he got Vanessa on the phone. We usually had a good laugh about it, but not this time.

“I need to discuss something important with you,” I said, trying not to sound too ominous.

“Why, sure.” Her voice, usually light with happiness when we spoke, had an edge of tension to it.

“I didn’t go to my interviews in Nashville. I’m still in Cullman.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Do you remember Ruby Graves from a few years back?”

“Who?”

“Ruby Graves. She was good friends with Mary in school, and she tended to me while I was sick with T.B. I believe you met her once when she was over at the house.”

“Oh, yes! I remember now. That sweet little girl who walked through the woods to your house sometimes.”

I paused, unsure of how to explain everything. “She was attacked yesterday morning while out at the Calhoun farm.”

Vanessa gasped. “Oh no! I hope she’s all right.”

“She ain’t hurt or anything. But while she was trying to fight off her attacker, he was killed. His family’s had her arrested, and now she’s sitting in jail accused of murder. It just ain’t right.”

“That sounds terrible for her.” I could hear the question in Vanessa’s voice. What did that have to do with us?

“We ain’t been close for some time now, but Ruby doesn’t deserve this. She needs help, and I figure the least I can do is pay her bond. I mean, she shouldn’t have to sit in there like a criminal.”

I was pretty sure once Vanessa heard the whole story, she’d understand and encourage me to help Ruby. After all, she’d worked right beside me at the bread lines in Tuscaloosa over the past couple of years. She had a heart for helping the less fortunate. It wasn’t the same kind of devotion Ruby had. But then again, who
did
have that kind of devotion? All the same, Vanessa was kind, so I was shocked at her response.

“Doesn’t she have family and friends who can help her?”

“Not with the kind of money she needs. The judge set her bond at four thousand dollars.”

“Four
thousand
? Why Matthew, that’s nearly your entire savings! What about our home? What about
our
future?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll save the money for the house again.”

“How? You didn’t go to the interviews, so you don’t have a job. How can you save up money when you aren’t earning any?”

“There’ll be other jobs. Have some faith in me.”

I could hear her breath tremble. Was she crying?

“Matthew, you’re a good man, with a good heart. If you feel the right thing to do with your money is to help Ruby, then I won’t argue. I just hope she appreciates what we’re giving up for her.”

“I have no doubt she’ll be grateful,” I said. “And listen, maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t go to those interviews. I can take a closer look at some jobs around Montgomery now. Wouldn’t you like to stay close to your parents?”

That seemed to brighten her spirits. “Oh, do you mean that? Maybe Daddy could find a place for you in his company for a while. Just until you find something you really want.”

It hit me that I was falling into the trap we’d been dancing around for the past several months. I had no intention of working in the lumber business, or sitting behind a desk for that matter. I’d made that clear. And I knew once I started working for her father, I’d be trapped there for the rest of my life. But I’d gone and put myself in the position of needing to keep her happy.

“I reckon that’s an option to consider,” I said.

I spent a few more minutes encouraging her cheerful mood with talk of the wedding. Flowers and guest lists didn’t interest me much, but I felt better knowing she was supporting my decision. Once we hung up the phone, I was feeling much better myself. As long as Ruby didn’t say anything incriminating tonight, she’d be safe at home by tomorrow.

I left Father’s office and headed down the hallway toward the foyer and front stairs. As I neared the end, I heard voices that sounded like they were coming from across the foyer, probably from the sitting room. If Father was home, it would be best to avoid him, so I intended to make my way up the stairs unnoticed. But as I hit the third step, I heard my name. Something about how I was ruining more than my own future.

I went back down the steps and moved over to the doorway that opened into the sitting room where Mother usually entertained her friends in the afternoons. But it was Father in there talking this time, and I could hear his heavy footsteps pacing the wood floor.

“You babied him too much,” he said. “He never learned to be tough and face the realities of life. Now he’s throwing away jobs like there’s one around every corner!”

I could hear Mother’s soft reply, but I couldn’t make out the words. Whatever it was, it didn’t please Father too much. He raised his voice even more.

“I’m serious, Francine. It’s time for him to grow up and act like a man. I will not continue to support a son who is lazy and refuses to earn his keep. I reckon I’ll have to teach him a lesson or two yet.”

Then Mother’s voice rose to where I could hear it, something I hadn’t ever heard her do before. “He hardly ever comes home as it is now! Patrick Doyle, if you run him off again, I promise I will never speak to you as long as I live!”

“Don’t put your threats on me, woman! This is my house, and I’ll be treated with the respect I deserve. Who do you think provides this nice house and those fine clothes of yours? Who pays for your servants? Do you think you’d have any of this without me? All I ask for is a little respect from you and our children. Is that too much?”

There was a long pause, and I debated on whether I should go in and give him a better target than Mother. But then he kept on going.

“Now, I am not going to allow Matthew to throw away his future. I will make him see reason if it’s the last thing I do. He will not disgrace this family, or the Paschals for that matter.”

I backed away from the door and headed up the stairs. Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and sat on the edge of my bed pondering Daddy’s promise. I’d seen him worked up many a time before, but never had he seemed so determined. I couldn’t understand how my helping Ruby would disgrace our family, let alone the Paschals.

Lord, help me reason with him before this gets out of hand. Soften his pride and make him see that helping Ruby’s the right thing to do. And if he won’t see reason, give me the courage to stand up to him.

Chapter Six

Ruby

I spent my first night in jail moving from one uncomfortable position to another. I prayed on my knees until they ached. Then I sat on the edge of my cot to pray some more. I lay down for a bit, even closed my eyes. But sleep wouldn’t come, so I went back to praying. My heart cried out to God, and my spirit was so disturbed that I ended up right back on my knees. In fact, at one point, during the darkest moments I’d ever had in my life, I found myself flat on my face. I sobbed with all my might, begging God for His presence, aching for some kind of assurance that I’d done the right thing. It seemed like the harder I begged, the more alone I felt.

By the time morning light began to creep into my cell, I was empty. I’d prayed with my most fervent words. I’d cried out from deep within my spirit. I had surrendered myself to anything God wanted from me. But I got nothing in return. Not that I blamed Him. I was filthy from head to toe with sin. But I’d tried so hard to make it right. Why hadn’t God let me heal Chester?

I jumped at the sound of the door slamming closed. I figured Sheriff Peterson was bringing my breakfast, so I turned and sat on the edge of my cot. But it wasn’t the sheriff who sauntered up to the bars of my cell. It was that old goat, Brother Cass. I didn’t think my spirits could’ve sunk any lower than they had already, but the sight of that man—after begging so hard for a sign from God—made my chest ache.

Brother Cass strolled over to my cell door with a smug sort of frown that I could imagine held a sick pleasure behind it. In his hands he carried a newspaper, which he used to tap the bars. I thought about laying back down on my cot and ignoring him until he went away, but I’d promised God long ago that I wouldn’t hold a grudge against him for sending Chester after me the first time. And God had blessed me over the years by allowing me to avoid running into Cass except for maybe a few occasions in Cullman. Even then, we’d simply ignored each other, and I’d assumed he’d left his pursuit of my demise behind. I wondered what he was doing here now. Was this really God’s answer to my prayers?

“Well, Miss Ruby, you seem to have gotten yourself into quite a jam here.”

It still amused me to hear such a deep voice coming from such a small man. I mustered up as much politeness as I could manage and walked over to the door. “I suppose so. What can I do for you today, Brother Cass?”

“Why there’s nothing in this world you can do for me, darling. The grace and mercy of our Lord and Savior is all I ever need. However, I believe it is you who is in dire need of that mercy now. Though you have resisted my guidance thus far, I am here to offer you a chance at redemption. God is allowing this time of trial in order to bring about your repentance.”

“And just what is it I need to repent of?”

He glanced back toward the door and lowered his voice. “It is my understanding that you have continued in the ways of dark mysteries under the guise of healing. Surely you must realize that God is punishing you for such evil rebellion. Not to mention your shameful behavior toward the Negroes.”

My soul was exhausted, but somehow I managed to find a bit of fight left inside me. “Since when is healing folks and providing food and clothing to the poor considered shameful? You are a spiteful man who would not know grace, or mercy, or compassion, if Jesus himself walked right up to you, took your hand, and showed you someone in need. You’d simply preach at them about whatever sin you believed they committed and tell them to do better. That isn’t God’s love.”

His face reddened. “Young lady,” he huffed, “I’ll not concern myself with your misguided notions of my character—”

“Nor I with yours.”

He shook the newspaper at me. “I have done my best to keep my distance from your fiery tongue and your evil sorcery, but as I suspected, another innocent life has been ended because of the Graves arrogance!”

“Innocent?” I cried. “Chester Calhoun was far from innocent—”

“And you took it upon yourself to mete out justice, did you?”

“What? No!” I threw up my arms and turned my back on him, stomping over to my cot. I should’ve known better than to speak to that man. I crossed my arms over my chest, determined not to say another word.

Brother Cass studied me with a satisfied tip to his mouth. “As for your
other
activities, I happen to know that you have been carrying on with Negroes, not just providing food and clothing. Why, it’s all right here!”

Carrying on? What was that supposed to mean? He shoved the paper between the bars, baiting me with its contents. I was tempted to take it to see what he was talking about, but I knew that was exactly what he wanted me to do. Instead I lay down and covered my eyes with my arm.

“I don’t have any interest in whatever stories are being told about me. I know the truth. I know who I am, and what I’ve done. I thank you for your concern for my soul, but I assure you it’s in good hands.”

“Ruby Graves, you are a vile, rebellious Jezebel. I am horrified that you have once again dragged the good name of the Doyle family into your sinful behavior.”

So that was what had him in a fuss. He’d always hated my friendship with Matthew and Mary. “I’m not dragging anyone into anything. Matthew is a grown man who can make his own decisions. Now, please excuse me, but I’m pretty tired. I’d like to get some rest.”

“You better get used to confinement. The rest of your time on this earth may well be spent in a cell, and unfortunately for you, the afterlife will be much, much worse than you can ever imagine.”

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of his shoes clopping away, pushing his words as far away from my thoughts as possible. Once again, I prayed that man would find some measure of compassion, and that God would control my tongue when speaking to him. As much I despised any interaction with him, he was a powerful influence in Cullman, and it would not be wise to entice him into a campaign against me.

Only a short while later, Matthew strode up to my cell like a man on a mission. His dark eyes blazed with that familiar intensity I’d seen before when he was set on making things happen. Despite my predicament, my heart did a little flutter. Something I hadn’t felt in so long; I’d nearly forgotten the sensation. I set it straight right quick though. There’d be no more schoolgirl crushes on Matthew Doyle.

“Morning,” he said, gripping the bars. “You all right? What happened last night? Did the sheriff and solicitor grill you? What did you say?”

I walked over to him, offering a smile to slow his onslaught of questions. “Good morning to you too. Yes, I’m all right. I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel just fine. They asked me the same questions the sheriff already asked me. Now, what are you still doing here? You should be heading to Nashville.”

“I postponed them.”

A sigh of exasperation escaped my lips. “And you lecture me about being stubborn, while you shove the same beam into your own eye.”

His brow wrinkled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you read your Bible? It’s from Matthew. Surely you at least read
that
book?”

Gripping the bars, Matthew’s head dropped between his shoulders. “Can we skip the sermon this morning? I’m getting you out of here, today.”

“Don’t you spend one dime of your money on this circus, Matthew Doyle.”

He looked up at me with wide eyes. “What? You want to stay locked up in here? I have the money. Let me help you.”

I shook my head ’cause I knew if I tried to speak, my words might betray me. It was true. I didn’t want to spend one more night in that place, but I couldn’t allow myself to be indebted to him either. I could see he was going to dig in his heels, so I’d have to dig mine in just as deep.

“Ruby,” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. Go home. Sleep. You should be with your family through this.”

“If you have even an ounce of respect for me, then you’ll forget all this mess, get on up to Nashville, and move on with your life,” I said, ignoring the heaviness in my chest and the sting in my eyes. “I don’t need your money, and I won’t accept it.”

The door opened, and Sheriff Peterson approached with a very large man in a dark suit following close behind. When they reached us, Sheriff Peterson stepped aside. “Miss Ruby, this here’s Norman Oliver. Judge Woods appointed him to represent you.”

Mr. Oliver tipped his hat. The sheriff turned to Matthew and clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “Why don’t we give Miss Ruby and Mr. Oliver some time to get acquainted?”

Matthew stiffened, but he didn’t shrug the hand away. He met my gaze, sending another rebellious flutter through my stomach. “I’ll be back soon.”

Before he was out the door, the sheriff was unlocking my cell to let Mr. Oliver inside. “Y’all take all the time you need,” he said. “I’ll be right outside. Just holler when you’re done.”

Mr. Oliver stuck out his hand as the sheriff walked away. “Well, I wish it were under better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you, Miss Graves.”

I shook his hand. It was damp. “Likewise.”

He motioned toward the chair in the corner. “Shall we sit and talk a while?”

I nodded and took a seat on my cot. He pulled out the chair in front of me. I was afraid it was going to collapse as he sank into it, but it just groaned a bit. He took out his handkerchief and wiped it across his brow.

“Well now,” he said. “It’s my understanding you’re being charged with the murder of Chester Calhoun. So how about you tell me everything that happened, and we’ll decide how we should proceed.”

I closed my eyes to set myself right. I wondered how many times I was going to have to tell this story. And I wondered what might happen if I slipped up, even just once.
Lord, give me wisdom and help me to be as truthful as I can be.

So I opened my eyes and started my story again. I explained how I went into the barn looking for James, and how Chester had come at me. I told him the hateful threats that spewed from Chester’s mouth—that part was as clear as daylight in my mind. I told him how Chester had flung me around and come at me with a knife, and how I’d somehow managed to kick at it so it lodged into his chest. That part wasn’t so clear, and I could see it bothered Mr. Oliver. But he let me keep on talking. Then I told him about trying to help Chester, and Luke Dalton coming into the barn, and all the chaos that followed.

Mr. Oliver studied me before he spoke. “I’m a little unclear on something. Why would Chester come after you in the first place?”

I twisted my hands in my lap. That was the tricky part. How to explain anything without explaining everything. “Chester attacked me once before. About five years ago.”

“Five years ago? How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Why on earth would a grown man attack a fourteen-year-old girl?”

I shrugged, unable to lie, unable to tell the truth. “He’s always been violent. My family was working as sharecroppers at the Calhoun farm back then. He managed his daddy’s place. He kept things under control by using force. I did some things he didn’t like, and I knew things about him he didn’t want anyone else to know. That’s all I can say about that.”

He rubbed his brow again. “Well, there’s no way we can say you didn’t kill him. If he did try to hurt you, then it was self-defense. But that’s extremely hard to prove, and you run the risk of being found guilty of murder. And in that case, you could possibly face the electric chair.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I was pretty sure my heart stopped for a few beats. “The chair? For this?”

“Like I said, only if the jury thinks you planned it and did it on purpose. Unfortunately, that seems to be what the prosecution is going to try to show.”

“How could they possibly show that if it isn’t true?”

“I haven’t seen all the evidence yet, or talked to any witnesses. I only have your words to go on right now. But Mr. Garrett is thorough and excellent with juries. I’m not sure how, but he will go after you. He will dig up every secret you have.”

Every secret…

My heart thudded in my ears as I realized the enormity of what was at stake. The electric chair? Was I going to die for this?

And what if my secret came out? Would God take my gift from me, like He took it from Asa? Maybe He already had. Maybe that was why He didn’t heal Chester. He knew all along this would be the end of me.

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

Mr. Oliver leaned toward me onto his elbows, his hands clamped together. There was something in his eyes that made my heart quicken. “Listen, you’re a young girl with a bright future ahead of you. If you plead guilty to a much lesser charge, say manslaughter, then most likely the judge will give you the minimum sentence. Considering the circumstances, it might be just a couple of years.”

“It might be. But it could be a lot more.”

“Well, yes. For manslaughter it could be up to twenty-five.”

Twenty-five years
. Covering my face with my hands, I forced myself to breathe slowly. No matter what happened, it seemed I was heading off to prison. How had I gotten myself into this?
Breathe in; breathe out.
My throat ached, and a few tears slipped down my cheeks. I heard Mr. Oliver clear his throat.

“Miss Ruby, I know it’s hard to think about going to prison. But we should consider that it would be a lot better than facing the electric chair.”