Diamond Duo (37 page)

“I’ll talk to her, Mrs. Biddie.”

The door opened. “I’ll leave you with her, then. Oh, and there’s a sandwich and slice of cake for each of you under the cup towel. I went ahead and finished her cake. Hated to see the ingredients go to waste, and besides, I needed some way to busy my hands. Try to get her to eat something, won’t you?”

Magda’s skirts rustled as she settled in a chair by the bed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll try.”

The door closed. Bertha gritted her teeth, waiting for Magda to beg her to get up, to snap out of it, to eat something, to come to her senses and go on with her birthday celebration. Instead, Magda
abruptly stood up, moved to sit down on the bed beside her, and began smoothing her brow. “This isn’t just about losing a friend, is it, sugar?”

Sudden tears seared Bertha’s eyes. She tried her voice but managed only a squeaky whisper. “I failed her, didn’t I?”

“Oh, Bertha, you didn’t.”

She clenched her fists, the words coming easier now that the dam had burst. “I was Annie’s last hope. I let her down. I let God down.”

“How can you say such a thing? You sacrificed everything to help her. You gave your all.”

“Did I? I had so many chances to say the right thing, yet it seems I never did. Even that last night I let myself get distracted, allowed my heart to be divided. All I could think about was getting back to Thad.” She sobbed into her pillow. “If only I’d known it was her last night on earth. . .”

Magda leaned closer. “Her last? How do you know that?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Abe killed her the very next day. That’s why he came back to Brooks House without her.” She twisted to look back at Magda. “He must’ve caught her sneaking back to their room on Saturday night, and it was the last straw.” She buried her face in her hands and cried bitter tears. “Oh, Magda, don’t you see? While trying to help Annie, I got her killed instead.”

Judge Bickford’s inquest would haunt Sarah’s dreams for the rest of her days. Living through finding Miss Annie’s body in the grove was hard enough. Reliving it time and again while twelve stern-faced men looked on proved taxing to her very soul. Several times during the questions, Sarah felt close to losing her few bites of Arabella’s eggs and biscuit, so she found herself grateful that Henry’s news about Miss Annie had cut her breakfast short.

Henry stayed as close as the officials would allow and kept a watchful eye on her the whole time. She had only to seek his eyes
to find the strength to carry on. So it seemed odd, now that the inquest was over, that she would need to find a way to slip away from him a bit.

Outside the coroner’s office, she reached to touch his arm. “Henry, I need to go back inside. I left my coat.”

He glanced at the door. “Wait here. I’ll fetch it.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “No, don’t.” At his surprised look, she loosened her grip and managed a smile. “I mean, you’ll never find it, and I know right where it is.” Both true statements, since she’d folded the shawl-wrapped bundle into the coat and stashed it under a desk the first chance she got.

Henry frowned down at her then back at the building. “You sure?”

She patted his hand. “Just go get Dandy and pull him around. I’ll be right back.”

He gave her a curt nod and set off down the boardwalk. They had to park the rig a good ways down because the coroner’s office had turned into a spectacle that rivaled the county fair. Judge Bickford had left the body exposed for public viewing, and hundreds of curious citizens had come for a chance to see.

Her heart so far up her throat she could taste it, Sarah opened the door and slipped into the building. Knowing she had little time, she hurried down the hall to the office where she’d left the coat. Though her own things lay beneath, she felt like a thief skulking beside the desk, waiting for a chance to take them.

Her gaze darted around the room. None of the clustered groups of men took any notice, as if–after all their questions–they’d forgotten she existed. After a deep breath, she ducked down and back up fast with her prize in her hands.

Sarah found the room that held Miss Annie’s body by walking the corridor alongside the parade of people that stretched from outside to an unmarked door. She unwrapped the white dress, laid her coat and shawl across a nearby chair, and marched up to the door carrying the folded garment in front of her. Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw a colored woman posted outside, she
sashayed over and peered down her nose at her. “Open up. I need to take this in.”

The woman looked her over then knocked with one knuckle.

A young girl peered out and scowled at them. “Can’t come in. We’s undressing her.”

Pushing down her fear, Sarah nodded at the frock in her hands. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

The girl glanced at the soft, shimmering cloth, stepped aside, and reached to touch it as Sarah passed. “Ain’t that purty?”

The door closed behind them, and Sarah’s horror knew no bounds. Too scared of what she might see if she didn’t, she kept her eyes on the floor.

“Well, well. If it ain’t the very person who found our pretty customer.”

There’d be no mistaking the sultry voice of Isabella Gouldy. Sarah remembered the last time she’d seen her, ducked in an alley clinging to a man. She only hoped Belle had been too far into her cups to remember the disgusted look on Sarah’s face.

“Come for another little peek, Sarah?”

Before she could answer, Belle cut her off. “If you come for a job, you’re too late. They’re paying me and Mollie here, and these four girls.”

Mollie Turk and three other women stood beside the young one who opened the door. Sarah lifted her eyes to Belle Gouldy’s face. “Paying you?”

She nodded. “To strip off her things and list the items we remove for the trial. Me and Mollie get paid extra for making her burial clothes.”

Sarah resisted the urge to scurry out of the room and let them get on with it. She held up the dress. “I have the grave clothes right here.”

Belle cursed. “Those no-’count dogs promised the job to us.”

Sarah held up her hand. “You still get paid the same, because this one isn’t finished. It’s only basted together and still needs a hem.”

Belle stared at first then gave a bawdy laugh. “Well, that makes our job easy, don’t it, Mollie? Don’t expect the old girl will need more than basting stitches. She won’t be putting much strain on her seams.” She smoothed her hand over the bodice and whistled. “Sure is a fine cut of cloth to throw down a hole on a corpse.”

Sarah stiffened. “You just see that it gets on her. I’m sure to find out if you don’t, and I’ll tell Judge Bickford.” The tone of her voice surprised Sarah. Belle and the rest, too, by the looks on their faces. But her bluff worked. No one needed to know Judge Bickford had no knowledge of Sarah’s mission.

Belle drew back her hands. “All right, all right. Seems a pitiful waste, though.”

Sarah handed her offering to Mollie Turk, who took it to a small bench where her sewing basket waited. Sarah’s eyes went to the bolt of rough material laid out on the table and shuddered. She tried to imagine the lovely, kindhearted Miss Annie in heavy black moleskin, but the picture wouldn’t come. Peace settled around her heart as she left the room. She’d done the right thing.

Wednesday, February 7

T
he wind skimmed across the surface of the murky bayou at Sarah’s feet. The last traces of drifted snow, bright white against the dark sludge, looked more like icy lace where the water had lapped patterns at the surface. She pressed her hands to her swollen middle, raised her face to the warmth of the sun, and thanked God she wasn’t in St. Louis.

Today, Jefferson would lay Miss Annie to rest. The townsfolk had donated one hundred fifty dollars to pay for her burial in Jefferson’s Oakwood Cemetery. Perhaps now the kindhearted beauty with haunted eyes would find peace.

Footfalls came over the rise behind her and paused. Sarah smiled without looking around. “Back already?”

The familiar stride continued down the hill, not stopping until it reached her; then arms circled her from behind. “Naw, I ain’t made it back yet.”

“Is that a fact? So a handsome stranger holds me in his arms?”

He chuckled, his barrel chest rumbling against the back of her head. “How you know I’m handsome? You ain’t looked yet.”

She giggled and squeezed his wrists. “I know handsome when I feel it, and you feel mighty handsome to me.”

Henry leaned to nibble her neck. She gave him a playful slap on the arm. “I wouldn’t go getting fresh. My husband’s a big man with a mean jealous streak. You wouldn’t want him finding out.”

He held her without answering for a spell then bent close to her ear. “While we’re on the subject of husbands finding things out, I got a question for you.”

She swayed back and forth, pulling him along with her. “Go ahead and ask. I might even answer.”

He held her still and took a deep breath. “Did you ever get around to making yourself a dress with that pretty white cloth I bought you?”

She tensed in his arms. No matter what, she wouldn’t lie. “Yes and no.”

“Girl, that ain’t no kind of answer. You either made a dress or you didn’t.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I made one, just not for me.”

Catching her hair in the stubble on his chin, he nodded against her head. “What if I told you there’s a story around town about a fancy white dress showing up yesterday on Miss Annie’s body?”

She cringed. It hadn’t crossed her mind that she’d owe Henry an explanation. “Well, I. . .”

He turned her around and placed a gentle hand over her mouth. “Before you strain that little noggin, let me finish. As the rumor goes, a certain Sarah King hauled that dress straight into the coroner’s office, as if sent there by Judge Bickford himself, and insisted Isabella Gouldy use it for Miss Annie’s grave clothes–which means today when they lay her to rest, your white frock is going down with her.” He peered closer. “All that sound about right?”

She cut her eyes to the ground. “Are you mad?”

He tilted his head to the side and cupped her chin in his palm. “Not mad. Curious. Why would you do such a thing, after hankering so long for that cloth? You hardly knew Miss Annie.”

Uneasy, she toyed with the button loop on the front of his shirt. “I’m not sure I can explain it.”

He caressed her hand. “Jus’ do your best.”

“Something about that woman touched my heart. Made me count my blessings.”

“How so?”

“Since that day in my kitchen, when Jennie told me how mean Annie’s man treated her, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different our lives were. For all her fine clothes and big diamonds, Miss Annie cried more tears in a day than I have in a year. Yet with all that pain, she took the time to show genuine love for folks.”

“She did at that, God rest her soul.”

“Henry, I felt pressed to give the dress, as if the Lord Himself wanted her to have it.” She waved her hand. “Oh, I know that don’t make no sense, considering how Miss Annie lived her life, but it’s how I felt. And I don’t regret giving it.”

“Reckon it was for your own benefit? Like laying down a sacrifice?”

She rested against his chest while she mulled over his words. “That could be. He’s been dealing with my heart on several matters lately.”

“That may be the answer to the other thing I’ve wondered about.”

She leaned back to look in his eyes. “Which thing?”

“You mind telling me why you’re so different lately?”

She smiled. “Me different? How so?”

A splash on the surface of the water pulled his gaze away from her face. He held her, staring at something over her head. “You seem quiet inside. Like a body who’s made her peace.”

She twisted around to face the water. Mindful of his ribs, she leaned her head gently against his chest. “I guess I have made peace. With life here in Jefferson. With God. With myself. I’m just done struggling.”

He tightened his arms around her. “How’d you come to that place so fast?”

“Like I said, Miss Annie showed me a better way than hate. I think she crossed my path for that reason. And the day hate almost got you hanged, I decided not to give it one more second of my time.”

He tensed. “I wish I felt that way.”

She patted his hands. “There’s nothing right about the way things are in Jefferson, and I won’t say it don’t grieve my heart. But I learned something that terrible day. Most of these folks care about us deep down, but the old ways cloud their minds, the things they learned from their folks. The others, like those horrible men, don’t deserve the time it wastes to hate them.”

Henry sighed. “Life can’t go on like this forever. Something has to change.”

“I hope it will someday. But please don’t let it change you, Henry. Peaceful, loving folks like you and Miss Annie are Jefferson’s hope. We’ve already lost her to senseless cruelty. Don’t let three black-hearted strangers take you, too.”

Henry stood still for a long time, until a tear fell from overhead and landed on Sarah’s chest. As he relaxed against her, she sensed he’d finally let go of his pain.

After a time, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Ain’t you going to Miss Annie’s funeral?”