Final Justice (36 page)

As best Luke could tell amidst the delirium, three snakes were being passed around. One was a canebrake rattler, fat and a yellowish gray color. He knew the snake by Elmer Bruce's description, just as he recognized the two copperheads, bronze and gold in the overhead lights. Elmer Bruce said the copperheads were the least likely to bite if they were handled right and had promised not to use the eastern diamondback rattlers, which were the most dangerous. Neither would he bring out the timber rattlers, which were used most often.

Bertha Veazey, knees jerking up to her big belly as she stomped in cadence to the drums, danced her way to Emma Jean and tugged at her arms. Luke bit the inside of his jaw and tasted blood. It was taking every shred of self-control he could muster to keep from charging in.

He tried to focus on Elmer Bruce's promise that he would bring only old snakes tonight. He'd also said he'd see to it they were well-fed with barn mice beforehand so they'd be real lazy and not care much what was going on. All this, of course, had been extracted from Elmer Bruce after Luke had matter-of-factly assured him that, if any harm came to Emma Jean, he would kill him without any qualms whatsoever and make it look like an accident.

Luke's pulse quickened as he saw Bertha wave toward a man dancing with a canebrake to bring it over. He didn't want Emma Jean handling that one, damn it. It was too alert, whipping his head from side to side, forked tongue flicking in menace. But then Elmer Bruce suddenly appeared. Like Bertha, he was keeping time with the drums, his worn ankle boots clopping up and down. Without breaking his rhythm, he lifted a copperhead from a man who seemed to be having some kind of a spell, eyes rolled back in his head and spittle running from the corners of his mouth. He didn't seem to notice when the snake was taken away from him.

Elmer Bruce held the serpent out to Emma Jean, his head bobbing up and down to her in a silent, secret message that it was all right. She had nothing to fear. But she had no way of knowing it was a set-up deal, that Luke had put a deeper fear into Elmer Bruce Cribbes than the Holy Ghost or Satan had ever been able to do, and that before he'd let her be bitten, he'd take the snake's fangs in his own flesh.

Luke, on the other hand, had no way of knowing that Emma Jean had put all her faith in
him
for the night instead of God. He had said he would think of something, and she believed him because she loved him and dared to hope he might love her, too.

The snake was testing the air with his tongue, and Elmer Bruce put his finger in front of his mouth, letting him touch it. Then he pressed his face against the snake's, and the two seemed to be watching each other for a few seconds before the snake finally drew back and flicked at the air again.

Bertha managed to pull Emma Jean, whose horrified gaze was locked on the snake, to her feet. Elmer Bruce gave her a lopsided smile, trying once more to secretly convey she had nothing to worry about, because he had given his word to the sheriff. Though the sheriff had not said why he wanted her protected, Elmer Bruce could guess. But it was none of his business. All he cared about was keeping his promise because he was firmly convinced the sheriff would surely keep his if he didn't.

Very slowly, very carefully, he held the snake high above his head, then brought it down to drape over Emma Jean's forearm, the rest of its cold, scaly body stretching around her wrist and hand. Emma Jean gagged as the snake began to move in and around her fingers as bits of his skin fell to the floor. Luke saw the snake and knew it was shedding. Elmer Bruce had said he thought he had a copperhead that was, which was a good thing, because they were even more docile. It was like they were too busy reinventing themselves, making new out of old, to be concerned with biting anybody.

Emma Jean made eye contact with the snake, and Luke just knew she was going to faint and hoped to hell she didn't because Bertha would only make her go through it all over again, and he wanted this night to be it.

"Stay with it," he muttered under his breath, unaware he was evoking a curious look from Matt. "Stay with it, baby. You can do it."

Elmer Bruce fastened his hands around Emma Jean's wrists and was guiding her paralyzed limbs toward her face. She swayed as the snake's tongue flicked across her nose. For an instant, Luke thought that was it, that she was going down. But, miraculously, she was able to stand there, to get through it, and Elmer Bruce, bless him, was not about to push a good thing and quickly took the snake away.

Bertha Veazey then bellowed so loud that the drums and tambourines stopped playing and everyone around her froze. "Praise Jesus. Oh, Praise God. The sinner is saved. She's been anointed by the Holy Spirit. And now she's pure in heart, and us Veazeys'll be havin' us a baby in the family a'fore long."

Those not still lolling on the floor or in the throes of a self-induced seizure began clapping their hands and surged toward Emma Jean to hug and congratulate.

"All right. Let's go." Luke moved from the window.

* * *

Matt had been watching him curiously. He'd had his suspicions about Luke and Emma Jean, even shared them with Kirby and his Aunt Wilma. Now he was sure she had told him she was going to be made to handle a snake tonight, and that's why they were there, to be around in case she got bitten and needed to get to a doctor quickly.

Okay, Matt allowed. It was Luke's business, just like his screwing Wanda Potts was his, but at least her husband wasn't a hot-tempered nut like Rudy Veazey. If Rudy ever found out, it wouldn't make a hill of beans that Luke was the sheriff. Rudy would do his best to try and kill him.

Still, even though he now knew Luke's motive, Matt could not resist asking, "So how come we drive all the way out here and stand in the mud and mosquitoes for hours just to turn around and leave? You saw them handle. You can arrest every one of 'em and close down that looney bin. So why don't you?"

They were making their way back through the woods to where the patrol car was parked, perhaps a mile or more away, and Luke glanced at Matt in the scant moonlight filtering down through the branches of the trees overhead. He smiled. "Maybe I believe in freedom of religion."

"Then why'd you want to come out here?" Matt persisted.

"To see what was going on."

"So you saw they were breaking the law..."

"And I decided not to arrest anybody, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Matt knew when to back off, and they made their way on through the night in silence.

Just as they neared the car, Luke quickened his pace at the sound of the radio crackling. He knew it had to be important because he had told Ned not to try and raise him unless it was.

He reached through the open window and grabbed the mike. "Sheriff here. Go base."

Ned did not waste time with codes. "It's bad, Sheriff. Real bad. The Klan got Ocie Rhoden tonight. Beat him up something awful. Slapped his wife and kid around. Burned a cross and then set his house on fire."

Luke hit the siren, rubber burning the highway as headlights burned holes in the darkness.

* * *

Lily Rhoden stood before the smoking skeleton of what had been her home. Charred bones stretching toward the night sky danced eerily in the swirling remnants of smoke from the dwindling embers, the acrid odor stinging her nose and throat and making her cough and choke on her sobs.

Luke touched her shoulder. "Lily, are you all right?"

She did not respond.

A valiant, charred beam lost its struggle and fell crashing into the rubble, the momentary flash of sparks illumining her face, and Luke could see the rising welts on her cheek. Her left eye was swollen shut. Between clenched teeth he asked, "Did they hurt Patti Sue?"

"No, thank God, but she'll have nightmares the rest of her life.
The devils!"

"Do you feel like talking about it now or would you rather wait till tomorrow?"

"It doesn't matter. I can't tell you anything, anyway. They were wearing hoods. I couldn't see their faces."

"Did you recognize a voice?"

"No. It all happened so fast. We were listening to the radio, and all of a sudden the door flew open and they rushed in and started hitting me and Ocie. Then they dragged Ocie out, and that's when I saw the cross burning, and..." Her voice broke, but she managed to go on. "They let me go. They said, 'take your pickaninny and run, nigger, or we'll fix you, too'."

She turned to throw herself against him as she sobbed, "I thought they were going to kill Ocie, and there was nothing I could do but grab Patti Sue and run for help."

"You did right," he said. "And I'll make them pay, Lily. I promise."

* * *

It was after midnight when Luke got to the emergency room. Volunteers were helping Matt and Kirby scour the crime scene for any clues that might help identify those responsible. The state police had been notified, which was protocol whenever the Klan was thought to be involved in a crime. Later, the FBI would probably be called in.

The night was hot, humid, and sticky. Thunder rolled over the Cheaha mountain range, and now and then lightning split the sky like a blazing fork angrily thrown from the gods. It was spring, and it was Alabama, and Luke knew the weather could quickly turn dangerous.

Dr. Campbell reported that Ocie was being readied for transport to Birmingham where orthopedic surgeons at the big hospital there would try to repair the extensive damage done to his right arm.

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can try, but he's heavily sedated."

Pushing aside the curtain, they entered the cubicle. Luke went to Ocie's bedside and gently said, "I know you don't feel like talking, but I need your help to find the ones who did this to you. Did you recognize any of them?"

Ocie's "No" sounded more like an anguished moan than a word.

"Not even a familiar voice?"

Again, the wretched sound.

"Did they say why they were doing it?"

"Union. They said... maybe now... I'd leave the union alone..."

It was the motive Luke suspected, but there was no time to probe deeper because just then a nurse poked her head through the curtain to tell Dr. Campbell, "He's got another visitor."

He shook his head. "Not now. We're getting him ready for transport."

"But it's Mr. Hampton."

Dr. Campbell nodded. "Send him on back." To Luke, he said, "It's kind of hard to say no to the chairman of the hospital board, you know?"

Luke knew, all right, and he gave himself a silent pep talk to keep his cool, not to give himself away. To do so would throw a kink in all his plans, and he'd come too far to screw up now.

A few seconds later the curtains swished open and Buddy breezed in, his face a mask of deep concern.

With a curt nod to Luke and Dr. Campbell, he leaned over Ocie and said, "I'm so sorry, and I want you to know you don't have anything to worry about. The mill takes care of its own, and you'll have a job waiting for you no matter how long it takes for you to get back on your feet."

Ocie grimaced. "They say I probably won't ever have full use of my arm. I can't work no line."

Luke felt like cramming his fist down Buddy's throat when he patronizingly said, "Don't you worry, boy. We'll find something you can do if it's only pushing a broom."

And pushing a broom would likely pay all of fifty cents an hour, Luke silently fumed, and everybody who saw Ocie would be reminded of what happened to anyone who dared speak out against injustice at the blasted mill.

* * *

There was a pay phone in a corner of the waiting room. Making sure no one was around to overhear, Luke dropped a coin in the slot and dialed.

Fortunately, Murline answered. If she hadn't, Luke would have asked to speak to her and not given a damn as to what explanation she'd give Thurman about a man calling her in the middle of the night.

He did not mince words. "You were supposed to keep me informed, remember?"

Sleepy, groggy, Murline fought to bring her senses to life. "Who... who is this?"

"Wake up, Murline," he snapped. "It's Sheriff Ballard. The Klan hit Ocie tonight. They terrorized his little girl, slapped his wife around, and beat the hell out of him. He may lose the use of his right arm. They also burned his house down. Why didn't you tip me off so I could've tried to stop it?"

At that, she was wide awake and gasped, "I didn't know. I swear I didn't."

"I think you did. Just like I think there's lots you haven't told me."

"No... I, there's nothing." He heard her gulp.

"You're lying,
Cinderella,"
he said coldly, "and your fairy
godfather
is getting real pissed."

With that, he hung up the phone.

Chapter 22