Casteel 03 Fallen Hearts (31 page)

The reverend only nodded.
"The record will show the witness's answer as affirmative," Camden instructed. "No further questions, Your Honor."
Camden told me his strategy would be to avoid embarrassing the reverend in hopes that his damaging testimony would imply that Fanny slept around, became pregnant, and sold her child. He hoped Fanny and her lawyer wouldn't want the real circumstances bandied about while her morality was in question. But they were willing to take the risks.
"Reverend Wise," Wendell Burton began, this time shooting up out of his seat like a cannonball, "was yer only motivation fer givin' Fanny Casteel ten thousand dollars fer her child yer interest in her welfare?"
"I'm not quite sure, I--"
"Were ya not and are ya not indeed the father of Fanny Casteel's first child?"
The stillness in the room felt so complete it was as if all the air had been drawn out to create a vacuum. No one even dared cough.
"I was and I am," he confessed, his voice not faltering. There was a common gasp from the audience, but this time the judge didn't need to rap his gavel. No one uttered another sound. They all just strained forward to catch every word.
"Ya impregnated a teenage girl in yer own home, an unsophisticated, trustin' child, who had been given over ta yer for moral safekeepin'?" Burton continued, leaning toward the reverend.
"Mr. Burton, I never claimed to be anything more than an ordinary man whom the Lord hath chosen to carry His word to other ordinary men. I did my best to reform Fanny Casteel, but it wasn't to be in my providence to do so."
"So ya seduced a fourteen-year-old girl?" Burton snapped.
"Believe me, no man would have ever needed to go to the trouble of seducing that promiscuous young girl. That wicked, sinful girl," he said, pointing at Fanny, his arm extended like the arm of a prophet about to pronounce God's very words, "did steal into my bed and with her lewd, naked body pressed against me, did seduce -me, for as I have told you, I am only a man, made of flesh and blood." He lowered his arm and then his head, shaking it slowly. "Pitifully, shamefully human."
"But the fact remains, ya were the adult and ya did not turn her out?" Burton pursued.
"No, I did not," the reverend said, looking up sharply again. "But I have never once doubted that the Devil was in her and through her, had found a way to pierce the al mor of my Faith, for my Faith was wounding the Devil fatally in Winnerow, as my people will testify. I was glad to get her out of my house," he said. "And I understand why the Lord instructed me to buy her baby. He did not want this child brought up in the home of such a woman, a woman firmly held in the Devil's grip."
"So ya tempted a young girl with ten thousand dollars ta sell her child. What could she do anyway? She was only fourteen," Burton said.
"Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is asking and answering his own question."
"Objection sustained. Mr. Burton. Are you asking Reverend Wise the question?"
"No," Burton said quickly. "No further questions."
"Reverend Wise, let me ask you the question," Camden said before another beat went by. "Did Fanny Casteel have any other choice but to sell her child to you?"
"Of course. She could have kept it. There's welfare; there's charity." He looked out at the audience. "She could have insisted I support her and the child."
"The fact is she didn't want her child, is that not so?"
"No. She only wanted the pleasure, the sinful pleasure, and not the responsibilities."
"No further questions, Your Honor," Camden said.
The reverend stepped down. As he moved back up the aisle, he kept his head high, his gaze just as intense as it had been when he approached the witness chair, but I thought I saw relief in his face, the outline of a slight smile. He had done what he must have wanted to do all these years, confessed his sin and confessed it in such a way that his congregation would have no hesitation in forgiving him. I was sure that his next sermon would be built on the statement "I have seen the Devil and I know his evil power, but I have seen the Lord's forgiveness and I know He is mightier."
When I turned toward Fanny, I saw that she wasn't smiling the way she had when the reverend first took the stand. Her lawyer was leaning over and whispering in her ear again, but what he was telling her wasn't making her happy. Randall had his head lowered and was doodling with a pencil. Despite myself, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the two of them. Little did they know, but we had only just begun Fanny should have never doubted the power of money and influence, I thought.
"Your Honor," Camden said, "we would like to now call Mrs. Peggy Sue Martin to the stand."
Fanny looked up sharply and her lawyer looked confused. I saw the expression on Fanny's face turn to one of deeper worry. Both Randall and Wendell Burton were asking her who Peggy Sue Martin was, just as most people in the audience were asking one another. The judge rapped his gavel and the audience quieted down as Peggy Sue Martin, a woman in her late fifties, early sixties took the stand.
She wore a cheap, imitation fox wrap and her face was heavily made up, almost as heavily made up as Jillian had been-in her madness . . . rouge patted over her cheeks, her lipstick too thick and wide, her eyelashes almost weighted down with light blue liner. Her hair, dyed a bright yellow, looked as though it had turned to straw. Although she brushed it forward and curled it, you could see where she was losing it. Her thin, lavender dress clung to her heavy hips and the skirt reached just short of midway between her knees and ankles. We had paid her two thousand dollars plus her expenses to bring her here from Nashville.
She was sworn in quickly and sat back, crossing her legs and smiling at Camden as he approached her.
"Mrs. Martin," he began, "please tell the court where you live and what you do."
"I live in Nashville where I own and operate a half dozen houses as a landlord."
"Mrs. Martin, do you know Fanny Casteel?"
"Yes, I do Fanny came to one of my houses a few years back. She had come to Nashville to try to be a singer, just like hundreds of other girls." She smiled at the judge, but he remained expressionless.
"When you say come to one of your houses, you mean to rent a room?"
"That's correct."
"She had money for rent then?"
"In the beginning she did Then she started bein' short from time to time. I ain't heartless, but there's just so much time I can keep someone. I need to make income. I got my upkeep."
"Wasn't Fanny Casteel earning anything as a singer?" Camden asked.
"Oh, goodness no." She started to laugh. "She could no more sing than I could."
"So then you evicted her?"
"I did not."
"Well, then," Camden asked, turning slowly toward Fanny and then back to Peggy Sue Martin, "what did she do to get the money she needed for the rent?"
Peggy Sue Martin shifted herself in her seat and pulled down on her imitation fur wrap a bit.
"Well, I don't condone what goes on in my houses.
It ain't my business as long as the tenants don't break anything and pay their rent on time."
"Yes?"
"Well, some women entertain men from time to time."
"And get paid for it?" Camden said.
"Yes. I don't encourage it," she said quickly, looking at the judge, but he continued to sit there like a cigar store Indian.
"Mrs. Martin, aren't we talking about prostitution?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"Mrs. Martin, could you please speak up," the judge said.
"Yes," she repeated much louder.
"And you know for a fact that Fanny Casteel occasionally earned her rent this way?"
"I do," Peggy Sue Martin said.
I recalled the trip I had made to that rundown house with its peeling paint and sagging blinds in Nashville. How naive I had been not to know what sort of things went on there. I should have realized when I saw that pretty blond girl in shorts and a halter top, a cigarette dangling from her lips, that such things were going on.
Fanny had been only sixteen and all alone with barely enough change to buy herself something to eat. I was so worried about _Milan and Tony and the way they would react should Fanny ever show up at Farthy that I didn't see the terrible state she was in. I took her out to eat and promised to send her money, but I didn't realize what had been happening to her up to then.
Well, now it was all coming out, spread over a table like the secret contents of a private drawer displayed for all to view, and it was her own fault. I warned her, I thought, hardening myself against her once again. She shouldn't have taken Drake.
"No further questions, Your Honor," Camden said. I looked at Fanny. She wore a hateful
expression, staring daggers at me. I turned away.
"Mr. Burton?" the judge said.
Wendell Burton spoke with Fanny for a moment and then turned to the judge. "No questions for this witness, Y'Honor."
"I'd say round one is over," Camden Lakewood said, taking his seat beside me, "and it's almost a knockout."
"This court is now in recess," the judge declared, and slammed the gavel three times.

THE MOST SENSITIVE INFORMATION LOGAN'S impregnating Fanny--was still to come, and it was Camden Lakewood's feeling that when he called Fanny to the stand, he shouldn't bring it up, once again hoping that she and her attorney had decided it was not to their advantage to offer this information to the court.

I was surprised at how refreshed Fanny looked when we all returned. Despite what could only have been a degrading and unpleasant time for her, she looked as relaxed and confident as a cat sprawled before a mouse hole. Randall still looked quiet and uncomfortable, but Fanny was visiting with people, laughing loudly, shaking hands and waving. Of course, I understood she was putting on a show for Logan and me, turning our way every once in a while to see if we were watching her. How like a child she still was, I thought. She simply didn't realize what she had gotten herself into when she took Drake.

Logan's mother looked happier. Her friends had gathered around her during the recess, clucking like hens. All the information brought out so far had made Fanny look bad and our position look good. Loretta, too, was hopeful now that Fanny wouldn't want her incident with Logan revealed. With things going so badly for her, why would she want to reveal more unpleasantness?

And then, of course, there was Randall to think about. My lawyer pointed out that if she had gotten him to marry her by making him think she was having his child, she would risk losing him by stating it was Logan's. What I feared in my heart, though, was that Randall wasn't as important to her as hurting me and getting Drake.

During the recess, parents of many of my former students and many members of the Winnerow business community came over to us to wish us good luck. As I expected, most people thought the Reverend Wise had been a courageous man to confess to his own sins in a public forum. He had challenged the Devil face to face and the Devil had taken one step back. During the recess he had stood off in a corner, his devoted parishioners gathered around him, listening to him recite passages from the Bible that he thought fit the situation.

As we all streamed back in, I caught him gazing at me. He was wearing an expression of selfsatisfaction. When I had come to him years ago to argue for the return of Fanny's child, I had threatened to expose him in his own church. He'd warned me then that his followers would never turn against him.

After the hearing resumed, Camden Lakewood entered certain financial documents into evidence, papers stating that Logan and I had been made executors of Drake's estate. Then he called Fanny to the stand.

She rose from her chair and patted her hair gently on the sides, smiled at Randall, and sauntered across the courtroom to the witness chair as if she were making an entrance on stage. She held a smile so tightly on her face, it looked like she was wearing a mask. Then she deliberately paused just in front of our table and stared down at me.

"I suppose yer satisfied now, Heaven," she said. "But ya ain't goin' ta be long."
I shook my head and looked away.
When she was asked if she would tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, she replied, "A course, I will." There was some snickering in the audience.
"Mrs. Wilcox," Camden began, "I understand you just recently became Mrs. Wilcox. How recently was that?"
"Randall and I got hitched two days ago. We went ta Hadleyville and got married by a preacher all right and proper."
"I see. How long have you known Mr. Wilcox?"
"I knowed him a while," she said, smiling at me.
"Now, Mrs.
^-
Wilcox, this wasn't just a marriage of convenience, was it?" Camden asked.
"Huh?"
"You didn't get married just so you could make a good case for becoming Drake's guardian, did you?"
"Objection, Y'Honor," Wendell said. "Ah resent that implication. There is no evidence--"
"That's what we're here to determine, Your Honor," Camden said softly. The judge thought a moment and then nodded.
"Overruled. I think the question is in order and I would like to hear Mrs. Wilcox's response. Mrs. Wilcox?"
"Yes, Y'Honor?"
"You can answer the question."
"What question?"
"I'll repeat my question," Camden said. "Did you marry Randall Wilcox only so you would appear to have a proper home for Drake?"
"Well . ." She looked at Wendell, who shook his head quickly. Camden Lakewood caught the glance and the motion and positioned himself between Fanny and Wendell so her lawyer was blocked from her view. "Yer askin' me if'n this is a phony marriage just so I kin git the judge ta give me Drake," she said, obviously recalling what Wendell Burton told her she might be asked. "Well, it ain't. Randall loves me and I love him, so we both figured it was time ta tie the knot. And we do have a proper home. You kin have a proper home without bein' rich as Heaven, kin't ya?"
Some of the audience silently nodded their agreement.
"You were married before, were you not, Mrs. Wilcox?" Camden asked, coolly ignoring her outburst.
"Uh-huh. I married Ole Mallory."
"Old Mallory. I take it your first husband was considerably older than you were?"
"Oh, yeah, 'bout forty years."
"Forty years older than you were?"
"Uh-huh."
"Were you in love with him, too?"
"He loved me and wanted ta take care a me, so I married him I wasn't as old as I am now and I wasn't as wise, and I didn't have a whole lot of experts tellin' me what ta do and what not, like some people," she added, looking my way.
"Why did you divorce him?"
Once again she looked toward her lawyer, but Camden remained in his way.
"We couldn't get along nohow," she said.
"Isn't it true that you divorced him because he wanted to have children and you didn't?" Camden asked quickly. She flinched.
"No," she said.
"Didn't you tell people that, people we will call to the stand today, if need be?"
She looked down and then up, her eyes blazing at me. I didn't change expression. I had told her I would throw everything at her I could.
"I didn't want ta have any kids with him 'cause he was too old. I mean, what happens after he dies, huh?" she asked, turning in the seat so she could face the judge. "I'm left with children and no husband and then who wants ta marry me 'cause I got children. So I told him no and we had a fight Then we got divorced and then he did die and he didn't leave me nothin'. So I was right."
"But you have a history of not wanting children, Mrs. Wilcox. Isn't that so?"
"No, it's not;" she said. "Look, ain't I havin' ma own now?" she said, jabbing her right thumb toward her stomach.
"And you were married only two days ago?" Camden asked softly and looked toward the judge.
"I already told you that," Fanny said. "Don'cha 'member?" she asked, and the audience laughed. The judge pounded his gavel.
"Now, Mrs. Wilcox, can you tell the court how you've come to have Drake Casteel in your home?"
"What'dya mean, come to have him? I picked him up and took him there."
"Picked him up? Picked him up from where?"
"From outside the Willies factory at the party. I seen him left alone while Heaven and Logan was off partyin', showin' off their new factory. So I drove up and told him he should come with me. He got in ma car and I took him home where he belongs."
"Just picked him up off the street without telling anyone?"
"Didn't hafta. He's ma brotha."
"But didn't you think anyone, Mr. and Mrs. Stonewall especially, would be concerned about the boy's disappearance?"
"Well, they weren't concerned 'bout what I thought." She turned toward Logan and me again, her black eyes blazing. "They neva asked my permission or nothin', just took him to that castle near Boston and then ta their big home here in Winnerow. Well, Pa woulda wanted me ta be his motha, not Heaven. He didn't like Heaven as much as he liked me and she knows it. She knows he'd want Drake with me. You know I'm tellin' the truth 'bout that, Heaven," she said, glaring at me.
I always believed he loved her more, I thought, but somehow I always knew he had more faith in me. He knew that I had a sense of responsibility and he knew that Fanny was spoiled and selfish. No, I thought, if Luke could be here, brought back from the grave to testify, I think he would say he wanted Drake living with me. After all, he made me executor of his estate. I felt confident that it was I he would have wanted to have custody of Drake.
"But you at least knew where he was, Mrs. Wilcox. Wasn't what you did very irresponsible? Take a child without telling anyone? They had the police searching. And once you had the boy in your home, why didn't you call them then to tell them?"
"I told ya," she said. "They neva called me to tell me nothin' They didn't even call ta tell me they was here in Winnerow."
"Still, Mrs. Wilcox--.-"
"It was the right thing ta do," she still insisted, nodding. "Heaven thinks she can do whatever she wants 'cause she's so rich. Well, I don't care how rich she is. Drake belongs to me."
Fanny's resentment of me was clear enough for everyone to see. I was embarrassed and hurt by it.
"No further questions, Your Honor," Camden said.
Wendell Burton stood up, but this time, when he approached the witness stand, he held his hands behind his back. He stopped about midway between Fanny and our table and turned so he could look at both of us. Then he rocked once on his heels and I knew what was coming. My heart thumped to a stop and then started to pound.
"Mrs. Wilcox, this baby you're carryin'. Whose baby is it?"
"It's his," she said, pointing toward Logan. "He made me pregnant!"
I heard Logan's mother gasp. The crowd broke out into an uproar. I looked quickly at Randall and saw the look of astonishment on his face. What I had suspected was true. He started to get up, but Wendell Burton, who had quickly returned to the table, seized him by the arm and said something to him that made him sit down again. Perhaps he had told him that Fanny was lying, just so she could get Drake. The judge pounded his gavel again and again, his face reddening with fury.
"I warned everyone," he said. "If another outburst like this occurs, I will clear the courtroom. Proceed, Mr. Burton," he said. Wendell said something else to Randall and then returned to Fanny
"Mrs. Wilcox, ya pointed to Mr. Stonewall, your sista's husband?"
"Yes, I did. And you kin't deny it, Logan Stonewall!" she exclaimed. "Yer been paying me to take care of it and yer last payment's overdue."
Logan looked at me, but I didn't change expression even though I was crying inside I felt as if Fanny had jabbed her finger into my heart when she pointed at Logan. I didn't turn around or look down. I knew that everyone in the courtroom was staring at me, watching for my reaction. All of them must have thought this was the first time I had heard the information. Apparently, as Camden Lakewood had feared, Wendell Burton felt Fanny's moral credibility had been damaged so badly, he had to do something to damage us.
"Mrs. Wilcox, the point was made that you got married only two days ago. Did your husband, Randall Wilcox, know that Logan Stonewall made ya pregnant and was sendin' ya money ta help pay costs? Did Randall know this before he married ya?"
"Yes, he did. Randall's a real gentleman. He loves me and he's tired of me bein' abused by rich and powerful people," she said, reciting it so mechanically, it was clear to me that her lawyer had made her memorize the line. She looked as proud as a schoolgirl in a school play.
But it was also clear that they had left the innocent and naive Randall Wilcox out of their game plan. He looked totally bewildered.
"And so he wanted yer baby to have a father and ya all to have a proper home?" Wendell asked, making it sound more like a conclusion.
"Uh-huh."
Camden Lakewood leaned over to us. "I'll have to call Logan to the stand now," he whispered, "and have him give his side."
"I understand," Logan said. "I'm sorry, Heaven. I really am."
"I know. Let's just do what has to be done and get it over with," I said quickly.
"Now, Mrs. Wilcox," Wendell Burton continued, his syrupy smile growing wider, "ya've heard some mighty nasty accusations made about yer moral character here t'day. Ah think it's only fair and proper ya get yer side told. How did ya come to live with Reverend Wise?"
"Ma pa sold us, five hundred dollars a piece. Reverend Wise bought me."
"Like a slave or somethin', the reverend bought ya for five hundred dollars?" Wendell Burton asked, widening his eyes and looking out at the audience. "The man who accused ya of bein' a pawn of the Devil?"
"Yes, sir, he did."
"And would you tell the court briefly what it was like livin' in the reverend's house."
"It was nice in the beginnin'. They bought me things and the reverend talked about the Bible and stuff, but then he started gettin' funny "
"Gettin' funny? How do you mean, Mrs. Wilcox?"
"He'd come inta my room after his wife was asleep ta sit on ma bed and talk ta me and stroke ma hair, and then he began strokin' other things." "Ah see. And how old were you then?" "Bout fourteen."
"Bout fourteen. And then, without gettin' into the grizzly details, ya became pregnant with his child, is that so?"
"Yes, sir. But I didn't go inta his room like he says and crawl naked beside him. He came inta ma room. I didn't wanna have a child. I was too young and I was scared, but I had no family, no one ta help me. No one to talk to. So when he told me he wanted to give me ten thousand dollars to keep the baby, I agreed. But then I wanted my baby back."
"Oh? You say ya wanted yer child back? Tell us about that," Wendell Burton said, once again rocking on his heels and turning toward the audience.
"My rich sista came to see me in Nashville and I begged her to buy my baby back, ta give the reverend twice as much money. It wouldn't a meant nothin' ta her ta offa him the money. Ya shoulda seen how much she carried in her pocketbook."
"Did she do it?"
"No, she didn't do it. She didn't want me bein' a motha and havin' a child. She wouldn't have nothin' ta do with me. She sent me money sometimes, but I couldn't come see her 'cause her rich relatives would get sick at the sight of someone as poor and as backward as me," Fanny said and took a handkerchief out of her sleeve to dab her eyes.
"Ah see. Then you married Mr. Mallory, who did want to look after ya, but ya could see no future in that marriage?"
"No, sir, he was too old, as I said."
"So ya got divorced and came ta live here where ya have set up home and gotten married?"
"Yes, I have."
"Thank you, Mrs. Wilcox. That's a lot different from the version we heard before. No further questions, Y'Honor."
"You may step down, Mrs. Wilcox," the judge said when Fanny didn't move.
She looked up, tears streaming down her face, looking like the victim. For a moment even I thought that maybe she was. Like all of us Casteel children, she had to undergo the indignity of being sold. Fanny acted as though she were happy about it at the time, but that was probably because she expected to be loved and cherished the way she always hoped she would be. Then the reverend raped her. I was never in doubt about that. She did have a hard life afterward. I could understand why she did the things she had done in Nashville and why she had married Mallory and later divorced him Perhaps I had been too selfish, I thought. Perhaps I should have gotten her child back from the reverend. Maybe having the responsibility of a child would have changed her.
But she had struck back at me in the most painful way she could. She seduced my husband and now was trying to take Drake away, not because she wanted him--but to punish me. I had to put aside my guilt feelings and once again harden myself against her. Drake's future depended upon it.
"I would like to call Logan Stonewall to the stand," Camden said. Logan stood up. There was a loud rustling in the audience, but Judge McKensie's eyes were enough to keep any chatter down. Logan's mother sobbed once behind us, but we both ignored her. I squeezed his hand for a moment and then he went to the stand.
Logan looked as nervous as a little boy. I saw his hand shake when he placed it on the Bible, and his voice cracked when he said, "I do so swear." He looked toward me again as he took the seat and I smiled to encourage and support him.
"Mr. Stonewall," Camden Lakewood began, "you've just heard the testimony of Mrs. Wilcox in which she has accused you of fathering the child she now carries. Are you indeed the father of this child?"
"I don't know. Maybe," Logan said.
"Then you admit to having had intimate relations with Mrs. Wilcox?"
"Yes," Logan said.
Once again the audience broke into an uproar, but the judge's quick gavel ended it.
"Can you describe the circumstances under which this occurred?"
"Yes, I can." Logan straightened up in the seat, assuming a take-charge position. His voice deepened and he spoke louder and with more authority. "My sister-in-law often hung around the factory site in Winnerow. She seemed to have nothing else to do and no one else to talk to. Whenever she was there, she brought me things to eat or talked to me about how hard her life was living alone, with no family nearby. I was staying in our cabin in the Willies, and I did start to feel sorry for her. One night she appeared with wine and food. She made me dinner. We drank a great deal of wine and she cried a great deal. Before I knew it, she was undressing herself and clinging to me. We . . . ended up in bed together. I was drunk and I regretted it immediately."
"Have you seen her intimately since?" "No, never again."
"Just that one time?"