“Is that why you paid Nora’s bail? That wasn’t cheap.”
Savannah stood and brushed the dirt from her hands. “That was for love, and I don’t believe she’s guilty.”
Helen snorted. “That’s very out of character for a Legare to help a Willard. You are your mother’s daughter. Marie was a very sweet soul.”
“Is that why you’re here—to visit Mom’s grave?”
“Hers and Jess’s. Jess was my granddaughter, and there was no part of her with the Legare temperament. She was a Willard through and through.”
That was debatable. Jess had learned the art of deception from Pierre all too well. There was much to be said for nurture over nature. Savannah trailed her fingers over Ella’s polished gravestone. “Are you here to visit Ella too? I know you’ve been here before. I’ve seen the flowers.”
Helen glanced away and bit her lip before nodding.
“Why? You never met her.”
Helen’s back straightened, and she raised her chin. “I know Deke told you what he’d done. I heard about it straight from him a few months earlier, and it about ripped the heart out of my chest. She was Marie’s granddaughter, and for that reason alone, she held a piece of my heart. Marie should have been my daughter-in-law. If Pierre had let her go, Michael would have—” She pressed her lips together. “Never mind.”
Savannah’s mouth went dry. Were they really talking like this? Helen’s faded brown eyes held real regret, and Savannah wished she’d finished her sentence. Did Mom’s death change him? Maybe he’d really loved her. “I found some of Mom’s poetry. It’s remarkable.”
“She was very gifted.” Helen pointed at the stone’s inscription. “‘For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.’ Claptrap. If God cared about us, why would he let an incompetent idiot take my beautiful daughter? I never forgave God for that. Then I found out my beloved Deke, a sweet boy who loved the outdoors, did the same thing to your beautiful Ella. It makes no sense. What a cruel divine joke for God to throw my anger back in my face by showing me I wasn’t the only one with a heavy burden. If you want to know, I came here to give God a piece of my mind. He has a lot to answer for as far as I’m concerned.”
Savannah felt an unexpected kinship with Helen. They’d both lost a daughter. “Did he answer you?”
“That’s between me and him.” Helen peered at Savannah. “Does it bother you that I’m here in the Legare part of the cemetery? Does it feel like the enemy is snooping, searching for another way to hurt you?”
“No, of course not. You’re welcome here anytime. I-I’mtouched you care about Ella, about Mom. I knew you loved Jess, but I’m thankful you think of Ella kindly and that you loved my mother. I miss her.”
“So do I, child, so do I.” Helen laid a bouquet of daisies on Ella’s grave, then walked with determined steps toward the other two graves sheltered under the sweeping boughs of an oak tree laced with Spanish moss.
Savannah watched Helen lay a bouquet of roses beside the tulips Savannah had placed there earlier. Helen had known Jess well enough to remember her favorite flower. She stood for several long moments with her head bowed, and Savannah tore her gaze away to let the older woman grieve in peace.
The Willard matriarch had a heart under that stern exterior after all.
Michael had better things to do than sit in a jail visiting room, but Deke had said it was important—though he wouldn’t say why. That made Michael uneasy, and his unease grew as Deke walked into the room on the other side of the glass. His nephew sat and hunkered over the counter with the handset gripped in his big paw. He eyed Michael apprehensively, like a dog afraid of getting whipped.
Michael picked up his handset. “Well? Why’d you drag me out here?”
Deke cringed. “Sorry. I, uh, I talked to the Websters. I asked them to forgive me, and I thought I should tell you.”
“Why?” Michael pinned Deke with his gaze. “What did you ask them to forgive you for?”
“For kidnapping them and hitting him in the head—you know, the stuff I pled guilty to.” Deke licked his lips. “It also slipped out about their little girl.”
Michael’s gut clenched. How could Deke have been so stupid—especially when guards could listen to everything he said? Michael fought to keep his voice even. “So? What does that have to do with me? I told you I had nothing to do with that.”
Deke nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir. You absolutely told me that—and that’s what I tried to say. But Mr. Hez wouldn’t listen. He thought you was the man who called me. So I figured I should tell you, especially with that big court hearing coming up.”
Michael’s blood pressure spiked. He wanted to lunge through the window and shake Deke by the neck. Mama had worried that he would run his mouth ever since he confessed to her a few months ago. And she’d been right—the boy couldn’t help himself. Now he was going to ruin everything.
A new idea occurred to Michael. He leaned back and studied his worn fingernails. If he played his cards exactly right, he might be able to turn this to his advantage. Everything was going to come to a head at once, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
Michael refocused his attention on Deke, who perched on the edge of his chair and held the handset in a white-knuckled grip. “You did right to tell me, Deke. I wouldn’t have taken kindly to getting surprised by a murder accusation. As for Hez Webster, the man is confused. And it never hurts to have a confused opponent.”
Chapter 32
Hez held Savannah’s hand as they sat on the first-row bench in the probate courtroom, just behind Scott Foster, who was seated at the counsel table with his paralegal. Michael sat behind his lawyer on the other side of the room. Janet Henderson, the guardian ad litem, occupied a chair in the jury box, which was otherwise empty. A scattering of witnesses dotted the gallery, waiting their turns to testify. Simon was in the jury room, totally absorbed inThe Dangerous Book for Boys, a gift from Savannah.
The door behind the judge’s bench opened. “All rise,” the clerk said.
