Thanks for the responses!
Chapter Twelve
"Still no word from pa?" Alice asked meeting Clay at the door of the parlor who was reading the telegram he'd just been handed from the servant.
"Not really." Clay answered as he crumbled the telegram with disappointment.
"What does that mean?" Alice asked, folding her arms across her chest.
"The telegram was from the Cotton Field Inn." He said as he walked passed her. "Where pa was supposed to stay during his visit to Louisville. They said he never checked in."
"Maybe he decided to stay somewhere else." Alice suggested as she followed him further into the room.
"What's the likelihood of that?" Clay asked, turning to face her. "Pa always stays at the Cotton Field Inn when he goes to Louisville. I've never known him to deviate from that."
"Great." Alice sighed "First MaryLynn is murdered, now pa is missing…"
"Pa is not missing." Clay disputed.
"He's been unreachable for 2 days." She countered, now she'd just got Lexy to calm down over MaryLynn's death. She'd actually started to accept it herself and now they didn't know where their father was. Him missing was the last thing they needed right now.
"He could be on his way home."
"For two days?" Alice skeptically questioned. "It only takes 12 hours to return from Louisville by train."
"Let's not panic yet." Clay strongly stated, failing to disguise the worry in his own voice. "Perhaps he took a detour home."
"That still doesn't explain him not checking into the Cotton Field Inn."
"Like you said, maybe he stayed somewhere else." Clay pointed out.
"So now you want to buy my suggestion that he stayed at another Inn when before you said he'd never do that?" Alice replied with a hint of frustration. "Clay it can't be both ways either he stayed at another Inn or he never went to Louisville, now which is it? Which do you believe?"
"Alice I really don't have time to go round and round with you about this." Clay replied, purposely not answering her question, because he didn't know how. "The county coroner keeps sending requests asking that I inform him about what to do with MaryLynn's body and Mr. Ewing is going to be here in two days and Stingray still isn't well." He said referring to the horse that Isaac and a couple of stable hands had found lying down and sweating profusely a couple of days before.
"Isaac and the stable hands are more than capable of taking care of Stingray, and as far as MaryLynn's...body goes…you can't do anything about that until pa returns." She said, feeling a sudden chill and sadness at the thought of MaryLynn being dead. "which is all the more reason for us to find out where he's disappeared to." She added. "Maybe we should inform the Deputy." She suddenly uttered aloud.
"The Deputy?" Clay retorted, not believing what his sister had just said. "You mean the Deputy whose trying to accuse me of killing MaryLynn?"
"Of course not. There are other Deputies. We could maybe even talk to the Mayor." Alice countered. "They can help us if pa is missing."
"Pa is not missing." Clay strongly declared once more. "So stop saying that." He ordered. "He'll be home in a couple of days, and if he's not...well we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it."
"Cross that bridge when we come to it?" Alice exclaimed. "What type of plan is that?"
"Lexy!" Clay asserted, ignoring Alice to greet his youngest sister who'd just walked in the room. "How was your French lesson?" He asked.
"Good." She replied."Any word from pa?" She then asked now walking up to stand next to Alice.
"No." Clay answered before Alice could respond, deciding that it was best not to worry Lexy more with the news that their pa might not have gone to Louisville and that they didn't know where he was. "We probably just missed him with our telegram." He said causing Lexy to frown at his answer. "I got to get back to the barn," He quickly added, before Lexy could start asking the same questions as Alice. "Stingray still isn't well." He explained. "And Mr. Ewing, who is a very important client…" He emphasized, looking at Alice. "will be here on Thursday to see how her training has been progressing."
"Do you still not know what's causing her illness?" Lexy inquired with concern.
"No." Clay answered. "That's why I need to get back to the barn. We've got to get her well before Thursday." He said as he now moved towards the door.
"Clay." Alice asserted, protesting his quick exit.
"We'll talk later." He promised, giving her a look that asked her not to say a word to Lexy about what they'd discussed, before he then exited the room.
Marita nervously walked across the field headed towards the well near the barn, thinking about what she'd learned a couple of days before, needing to talk to her pa. After she'd spoken with Florida Greer, she was determined to track down her pa and talk to him about what she learned. However things didn't go as planned, when the Deputy had come by the ranch and informed them of MaryLynn's death, her own issues had been pushed aside. It's not that she forgot what she'd learned, but so much started happening that she didn't have the opportunity to speak with her pa. After offering her help to Clay, she'd gone to town and sent the telegram to Ned in Louisville. When she returned to the ranch Alice and Lexy were still having a difficult time dealing with what had happened to MaryLynn, and she had stayed with them trying to comfort them over what had happened. Clay and her pa were dealing with an issue with Mr. Ewing's horse for the remainder of the day, actually for the past couple of days they'd been working on the sick horse trying to get it well before Mr. Ewing comes for a visit on Thursday. The following day her pa had gone down to Winchester to pick up some medicine that might be helpful to the horse. When he'd returned he and Clay had spent the remainder of the evening working on the horse. By the time he'd come in for the night, just like the day before Marita had already gone to bed. She had planned to speak with him that morning about what she'd learned, but once again when she awakened he was already gone. So today she was going to him. Things were still crazy around the ranch with everything going on with the horse, MaryLnn's death and Ned being out of reach, but she had to talk to him. She couldn't wait any longer to sort this out.
"Marita what are you doing here?" Isaac asked, as he pulled the pail full of water from the well, surprised that she'd venture to this part of the ranch.
"I need to talk to you." She seriously stated.
"Honey this really isn't a good time." He said now walking back towards the barn with Marita walking with him. "We're still trying to get Stingray well, and pre…"
"I know." Marita interjected. "But this can't wait, not any longer." She said.
"Alright." Isaac replied with uncertainty, stopping to look at his daughter, concern rising within him at her serious expression and tone. "Give me a minute." He requested. Marita nodded indicating her approval. Then her father walked away, catching a stableman who was nearby, giving him the pail of water and instructing him on several tasks. As her father directed the worker, a pensive Marita walked past the well and took a seat on a bench under a large oak tree that stood close by. Moments later Isaac came over to join his daughter under the tree.
"Honey I really don't have much time…" He began as he slowly walked up to the bench, hoping against hope that what she needed to say wasn't as serious as her expression.
"This won't take long." Marita assured.
"Alright." Isaac said, watching his daughter intently, his worry growing. "What's going on?"
"Was my accident really an attack?" She seriously asked, coming right out with it, staring her at her father whose eyes briefly flashed with panic, confirming what she already suspected.
"Marita what are you talking about?" Isaac questioned as he used all his strength to contain the panic rushing through him wondering how she knew.
"Pa please don't do this?" Marita pled with hurt in her voice, holding his gaze. "Please don't deny knowing what I'm talking about."
Isaac stood there a moment pondering what to say, what twist he could add to the story to make it sound right, how he could protect his daughter from this truth that he knew would hurt her, then instantly felt a deep guilt and disgust for his behavior and thoughts…"Alright…I won't deny it." He sighed, slowly sitting down beside her, then hesitated to continue. "I'll… tell you the truth." He said. Then was quiet once more, praying that his daughter wouldn't turn on him that she'd understand. "The accident…The accident wasn't an accident." He finally confessed. "It was an attack."
Marita sat there a moment quiet and thinking, recalling all the times her pa had told her that her injuries were due to the horses that were pulling her wagon being spooked by what they thought was a snake that strayed across their path. How could he do this she thought with pain. How could he lie to her all this time? Marita glanced at her father and tears welled in her heart. Even though she'd concluded on her own that he'd lied to her. Upon examining his strange behavior after the attack and since she'd returned to Lexington, she'd figured that. There was still some part of her that didn't want to believe that it was true. That he would keep something like this from her.
"What happened?" She then asked in a strong but sad voice, now returning her gaze forward.
Isaac hesitated a moment longer not wanting to tell his daughter the truth, fearing that her world, his world would unravel if he did, but what could he do? He couldn't lie to her about this anymore. On some level he felt she did deserve to know the truth but why here, why now while in Lexington where this whole mess had started. Was she remembering her past? He questioned with realization and a deeper dread. Was that how she knew that the accident was really an attack? He asked himself as he turned his eyes to his daughter and met her grieved gaze which was silently pleading with him to answer her question. Unable to stand the pain in her eyes, Isaac looked away, focusing on the well that was straight ahead, then began to speak…
"You were on your way to the grocery, when…this man, a white man came upon you." He slowly revealed. "According to onlookers he began to harass you about who you were, where you were going. What you were doing there." He continued, fighting hard to stay strong to not let his anger and pain over what had happened to his daughter overtake him. "When you tried to go around him…" He hesitated, not wanting to say, now remembering what he'd been told that the man harassed his daughter about being on the street alone without her "white suitor," saying that he'd seen her around town with her white man before and that even though it was the north, Negroes weren't allowed to mix with the purity of whites. "When you tried to go around him…" Isaac repeated, then ceased to speak, quietly sighing as he closed his eyes in pain.
"What happened?" Marita shakily asked, already knowing where the story was going, but still needing to hear, to know exactly what took place.
"Honey I don't think…"
"Pa, I can handle it." She strongly interjected. Isaac opened his eyes and turned them to his daughter who immediately caught his gaze holding it with her strength prompting him to swallow back his angst and continue…
"When you tried to go around him, he grabbed you." He resumed, his heart breaking at the fear that rose in his daughter's eyes, causing him to again turn his gaze away. "You tried to get away…but you couldn't… and that's when things escalated, that's when… he attacked…beating you." He sighed, closing his eyes at the pain that crushed him within at re-living one of the worst times in his life. Marita turned her eyes away and gazed at the stable hands and servants going about their daily tasks, thinking how simple their lives seemed, free of turmoil and the pain she was now feeling.
"Marita honey I'm so sorry that I've hurt you by not telling you the truth." Isaac honestly continued. "Things happened so fast…I just wanted to get you well, get my daughter back". He emotionally stated, remembering how she was in and out of consciousness for three weeks before she fully awaken. "When you came to, you didn't remember anything that had happened. You didn't even remember who you were or where you had been." He said. "And the doctor strongly recommended that you not be told anything about what happened because it would be too traumatic. If you were to remember he stated that it would be best that you remember on your own." Isaac explained. "But then, when that started to happen, when you started to remember it came with the severe headaches." He disclosed. "Honey…" He called to his daughter, drawing her anguished gaze back to his. "I couldn't risk telling you the truth about what happened for fear that it would worsen your health, that I'd lose you for good." He earnestly stated as his daughter again looked away, then closed her eyes, quietly soaking in his words.
No matter her pa's explanations for not telling her the truth, she still felt incredibly betrayed. She'd repeatedly discussed with her pa what had happened, had asked him if there was more to it, well after the attack, after the severe headaches, and he'd failed to answer her with the truth. He'd kept her in the dark about her own life, which made her question everything, question if there was more he was keeping from her.
"Marita…"
"Pa…" Marita finally spoke, causing her father to instantly stop speaking. He wanted to hear what she had to say. "I understand the reasoning behind you not telling me the truth, in the beginning." She said, now looking at him once more. "However it's been 3 years. I'm well now, stronger." She stated with hurt, the tears now rising in her eyes. "I asked you repeatedly about my past, what had happened and you denied me the truth."
"I was trying to protect you." Isaac countered with love and sincerity.
"Protect me from what a severe headache…"
"Yes!" Isaac interjected. "And the pain of knowing that you were attacked not because someone wanted money or to steal your wagon, but because you are a Negro!" He passionately defended as a single tear flowed down his daughter's cheek. 'And because you were involved with a Sean Logan.' He wanted to add, but didn't. "Honey I'm sorry that you feel hurt and betrayed by what I've done." Isaac stated again, his tone more calm. "But I thought it was for the best."
Marita took a deep breath, again turning her eyes ahead, away from him, fighting the tears threatening to overtake her, now thinking not only about her father's lie but the attack itself, why it had happened, the racism behind it, which sadden her soul, hurt her just like her pa knew it would. "What happened after the attack?" She quietly asked, the hurt still strong in her voice. "Was it ever learned who the attacker was?"
Isaac didn't answer right away. He was thinking about the mess that came about after the attack. How Sean had responded and as a result things had spun out of control, ultimately leading to where they all were right now. "No." He lied, feeling that he couldn't open that door too wide. He couldn't let his daughter know everything. She already knew more than enough right now, enough about the attack to hopefully 'move forward' with her life. There was no use in making things more devastating, more complicated than they already were.
Marita continued to examine what she'd learned, feeling hurt over her father's lies, while at the same time feeling anger over the coward who'd attacked her. He was probably still walking the streets no doubt living a 'great' life, having not one thought about how he'd nearly destroyed her life. She sometimes hated this world, hated its rules and some of the people in it. She mused, for a moment thinking how the white man could destroy them all, treat them like chattel and nothing would be said, no price would be paid for them treating Negroes this way. She thought with frustration as another tear slipped down her cheek, prompting her to quickly wipe it away.
"Marita honey are you okay?" Isaac asked, now gently touching his daughter's back.
"I need some time… alone." She quietly answered as she wiped more tears from her face.
"Marita I really don't think…"
"Pa please." She sighed, closing her eyes. "This is not about…what you think. It's about what I need." She said as she now turned her attention to him, her eyes asking him to please leave her.
"Alright." Isaac reluctantly agreed. "If you need me…"
"I know…" Marita softly uttered. Isaac remained on the bench a moment longer, watching his heartbroken daughter, not wanting to leave her, but knowing that he had no other choice because that's what she wanted. When he slowly removed his hand from her back, then finally stood from the bench, looking at his daughter once more, praying that she was alright before he then slowly walked away as Marita finally let the tears and all of the emotions she was feeling overtake her.
Chicago, Illinois - 1889
He was told that it was a mistake - a mistake to see her the way he saw her, a mistake to love her, a mistake to build a life with her - or at least try, and now he was paying for that "mistake." Now she was paying. Pain seared his heart as he recalled what had happened, what was still happening to him and to her. Would she make it through it? Would they? He closed his eyes fighting the angst inside, longing to be with her, but he couldn't. He knew he should let it go. Let justice take its course, but he knew justice would never come for her. Society was structured not to care about her, to care if a crime was committed against her. Thus he couldn't let it go. Justice would only come from him and was now his to deal he thought as anger rose within him, fury racing through his veins as the culprit emerged from the saloon, laughing and joking with friends, not the least bit disturb by what he'd done. Sean shook with rage. Hiding in the shadows watching as the man left his friends and ventured into the darkness where he waited with menacing restraint, waited to unleash his wrath…
"You look like you're a million miles away." A voice said, drawing Sean from his thoughts, causing him to look up to meet his grandfather's gaze.
Sean drew a deep breath, pushing the intense memory from his mind, struggling to suppress the fury and pain that was igniting within him to forged a slight smile. "No. I'm right here." He then responded to his grandpa. "Just thinking business."
"Business?" His grandfather scoffed. "Son, you can't fool me." He said. "Business is the last thing on your mind."
For a moment Sean held his grandfather's stare, wondering where the man was going to go with this when he then replied. "Business can mean a lot of things." Sean countered. "Its not always related to work and with all do respect the last time I checked I am entitled to thoughts about my life, which is considered my own private business."
"You can't let it go can you?" Cab asked out of the blue, watching him intently, thinking how Thomas had expressed concern to him about Sean seeming sad, distracted and how in recent days he'd noticed it for himself. "It's been three years and you can't let her go? That's why you barely spoke to Jacqueline the other night at dinner and have yet to pay her a call."
"I haven't paid a call on Jacqueline because I don't want to." Sean calmly pointed out, skillfully hiding that he'd been shaken by the man's words. "I made that clear two days ago when you tried to throw us together at dinner."
"If that's what you want to say, I'll do my best to believe you." Cab declared, still watching his grandson closely, knowing that he wasn't being truthful about his feelings and motivations. "But I'm not going to allow you to throw your life away again. I'm not going to allow you to run back to Lexington…back to that Negro."
"Allow me?" Sean stiffly stated, sitting back in his chair, anger rising within him. "For your information Marita is not in Lexington. Hell I don't know where she is, and frankly I don't care." He lied. "And as far as my life goes I control it, not anybody else."
"Are you sure about that? Because I find it strange that you're back here in Boston after being away for more than 2 years, living well and successfully helping run the business in Europe."
"What are you getting at?"
"Why are you here?" His grandpa seriously asked. "And don't tell me it's because you came back to see the family. You hardly wrote when you were in Europe and when you did it was all about business not how much you missed us."
"You really think I don't care about you and grandma and the rest of the family?" Sean questioned in disbelief a twinge of hurt in his voice.
"No. I think you love us very much." The man truthfully stated. "But I think that we're not what's driving you, driving you here…"
"We'll then what is?" Sean heatedly asked. "Driving me here? Since it's not business and it's not family."
"The Negro." The man tartly uttered. How he had to get his grandson out of a mess that could've easily destroyed his life. How the Negro was at the center of it all.
"I'd appreciate it if you not keep calling her 'the Negro'." Sean sharply asked. "She has a name and it's Marita."
"Oh my god you're heart is still tender for her." His grandpa uttered in shock and disgust, realization coming over him at Sean's response. "She IS the reason why you're back!"
"That is absurd" Sean voiced with irritation, his anger nearly giving away that his grandpa's assessment was hitting close to home. "If I still wanted Marita, if I was here for her, I'd have written my family in Lexington and asked them if she'd visited or if they knew where she was. Hell they don't even know I'm in Boston." He revealed. "Or I'd be doing like I did before and be searching everywhere to find her."
"Okay well maybe you're not here for her." Cab stated as he continued to worriedly gaze at his grandson. "But you still feel for her and that's dangerous." He said
"I feel nothing that I can't handle." Sean argued, holding his grandpa's gaze.
"Do you really think I'm going to believe that, when that woman drove you to abandon your father, move to Chicago and nearly destroy yo…"
"What do you want from me?" Sean interjected with frustration. "Is my life, my choices not good enough for you?" He queried. "Is it not enough that I'm here because I want to be?"
"No, it's enough." His grandpa genuinely answered. "I just don't want to see you go backwards." He explained. "You are a young, successful man who has the potential to do great things if you can just…allow yourself to move forward." He said.
"Grandpa that's what I've been doing for the past two years is moving forward." Sean strongly responded.
"I'm not so sure that's tr…"
"Excuse me, Mr. Heisenberg." A servant called, interrupting their discussion. Cab sighed with frustration and turned to face the servant who'd just entered the room.
"Yes Jenna." He shortly stated.
"Mr. Pope is here. Shall I show him in?" She asked.
"Yes. Thank you." Cab directed, the servant acknowledged his response and quickly left to retrieve Mr. Pope. "We'll finish this discussion later." The man said returning his attention to his grandson.
"There's nothing to finish grandpa." Sean firmly countered. "I've said all I'm going to say on the matter." He said, when Mr. Pope entered the room giving his grandpa no chance to respond, forcing him instead to greet their arriving guest, while Sean successful put his work face on as he fought to push the conversation he'd just had aside, push away the feelings it stirred up and ignore his constant thoughts of Marita.
Deputy Brunson walked about MaryLynn Grimes' room flipping a coin, thinking while looking for evidence of who'd killed the woman. It didn't make sense that a woman who'd only been in Lexington a couple of months would end up dead. She didn't know anyone here. She had no family in Lexington, no friends except the Logans. The man mused. Well the Logans weren't her family, but they soon would've been, which brought the man back to the question he'd had before to what he'd asked Clayton Logan. Why would MaryLynn move back to the boarding house after getting engaged to Ned Logan? Why not continue to stay at the Logan Ranch? It didn't make any sense. He knew that Clayton Logan was hiding something. The boy's defensiveness and anger proved that. He just had to find out what it was. He knew that the young man had seen MaryLynn the night of the murder. The witness had told him that and the young man had admitted it. But why did the young man visit her at supper time? What did they talk about? And why wasn't she joining the Logan's for dinner that night? Even with Ned Logan out of town, which he'd learned through his investigation, she should've been joining her future family for dinner. Something was off. The man concluded. Things weren't what they should've been between MaryLynn Grimes and the Logans. Something was going on with them, and he was going to find out what he was. That's why he'd returned to the boarding house today and brought a couple of deputies with him to question more residents. Somebody had to know something, had seen something about this murder. Deputy Brunson looked around the room looking for any sign of evidence. The man walked back and forth seeing nothing but the evidence he had seen there a couple of days before, a broken lamp and vase still on the floor. He was still flipping the coin which always helped him think when he flipped the coin too high and missed it when it was coming down causing it to hit the floor and roll under the bed. The man kneeled down on the floor and looked under the bed intent on retrieving the coin when he saw something bigger, brighter than his coin shining on the floor. The Deputy stretch his hand past the coin and slid the item from beneath the bed, pulling it out into the light he got a better view of what it was - a pocket watch. The gold watch was unique with its detailed carving of a balking stallion which was unlike most pocket watches that displayed carvings of eagles or guns. The man examined the watch closely knowing that it was expensive due to the realness of the gold and its weight. Remaining on the floor the man then opened its cover and found that the face of the watch was broken the time stopped at 8:50PM. The man then turn his eyes to the inside cover and just like he suspected there was an inscription, an inscription that revealed who the watch belonged to and who he was now sure was MaryLynn Grimes' killer.
The man walked up to the dark and closed building standing at its back door, thinking how risky this could be, what he was about to do. In the end, it could all lead back to him, blow up in his face, but this was a risk he was willing to take to get things back on track. The man hesitated a moment, replaying his objective in his mind, how much he hated Ned Logan. This was going to work he told himself. Despite the mess with MaryLynn he thought which ignited rage and disappointment within him. He'd come too far, worked too hard to let this go. He would never let this go. He angrily vowed. The man then took a brief glance around him, seeing that no one was around, then carefully slid the mysterious envelope under the door.
