The Devil Take the Blues--Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Agnes

I didn’t want to be unfaithful. It only needed someone to talk to. My daddy always said that when there was trouble, you found the law or else the law would find you. Beau had always been a good friend of mine. He was loud, funny, and had an easy way about him.

He came over one day, on the pretense that I should look into having Beatrice committed. Talking about Devils and such. I just told him that she always had a big imagination. I didn’t have much to offer him. It started the way it always starts—I poured out my heart, and Beau drank it up like it was dew from the heavens. Looked me in the eye when I talked.

He started coming over once a week, when Tim wasn’t there. The guilt I felt over being unfaithful was less than the pain of living with my husband. I didn’t want to hurt him. I really didn’t. Beau had such a gentle way about him, but like the rest of us, he was an insatiable gossip. One day, he brough a Bible with him.

“That judge’s seat is mind, come election time,” he crowed. “Just look here.”

He opened up the dusty tome and pointed.

“I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” I said.

“You know how to read, don’tcha?”

“Of course.”

“Well then, why do you suppose there’s a name crossed out right here?”

I was too tired from fighting with Tim to put it all together. “Mistake in writing?”

Beau leaned in close to me. “More like mistake in whelping. You ever notice how Alaric Moreau’s nose is a bit bigger? Hair a little bit too curly? Has a nap to it, don’tcha think?”

“I don’t—”

“I’m willing to bet my whole house and land too that his blood ain’t so pure.” He held the Bible aloft. “And this here proves it.”

*

Beatrice

Frank and I were in his house the day after he spent the night in jail. I was still absolutely certain that the Axeman would kill Agnes. Who else could possibly kill someone that innocent?

“I know you’re him,” I said. “The Axeman. The Sheriff told me that they can’t hold you indefinitely, but they’ll be back before the end of the week.”

Frank sighed, long and deep. “How many times must I tell you that I’m not the Axeman?”

“You haven’t given me one single piece of evidence to show you’re not. And the Sheriff will keep coming back and throwing you in until he and I find enough evidence to put you away for the rest of your natural life.”

“How tedious. Think of all the trouble that would cause my growing music business.”

“Do you think I care about music when I made this bargain with you?”

Frank looked at me for a long moment. Then said: “We’re going to need a very big party.”