22
Someone had built a fire in the fireplace in the great room and the family was gathered around it when we walked in. Babe and Rob sat together on the sofa while Grace Higgins, wearing riding britches and boots, stood by the hearth with her elbow propped on the mantel. Abner looked uncomfortable in a straight chair he had pulled in from the dining room. Hamp lounged in a big leather club chair with his arm around Misty, who was perched beside him. Stacie, dressed in a fluffy robe and slippers, was curled up in the matching leather chair on the opposite side of the hearth. She glanced at Grace and quickly looked away again. The ranger whispered something to Biggie. She walked out to the center of the group.
"As you now know," she said, "Rex Barnwell meant a great deal to me in my youth. He didn't deserve to be shot in cold blood, and I made it my business to find his killer. I have done that." She looked around at the startled faces in the room. All but one, that is. Stacie only continued to look glum. Biggie moved over to Stacie's chair and looked down at her. "Now, young lady, I believe you have a story to tell."
Stacie looked down at her lap. "I won't," she said.
"You must," Biggie said. "You can't hurt her now."
Now she looked up at Biggie with eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. "You mean…?"
"Oh, no!" Grace gasped.
The ranger spoke to Stacie. "You can talk here or at the jail. You won't like it down there."
"I'm not going to jail!" Stacie buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "You can't make me. I didn't do murder."
"But you know who did," the ranger said. "You might as well tell us. She wouldn't want you to lie anymore."
Stacie stared into the fire for a long time. Then she sighed. "Maybe you're right." She sat up straight and crossed her feet at her ankles. "But I'll have to tell you about me so you'll understand."
Biggie nodded. "Go on, honey."
Stacie took a deep breath. "The day I was born, I was a ward of the state. My birth mother was just a kid and couldn't take care of me. There was some kind of problem with letting me be adopted— something about my birth father refusing to sign away his rights." She sniffed loudly and Grace pulled a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to her. "Finally, when I was four, I was sent to a home… or a hellhole. It was run by a preacher and his wife. Hellfire and brimstone types. Their motto was: Spare the rod and spoil the child. Well, they sure didn't spare the rod— only in our case it was rubber hoses, one for beating us and the other for spraying us with cold water when we acted up. We slept on hard mats on the floor and ate barely enough to keep us alive and able to work on the farm, where they grew organic vegetables to sell to fancy stores."
"That's horrible," Babe said.
"You don't know the half of it." Stacie frowned at her. "And you never will because you're just a spoiled brat."
For once, Babe kept her mouth shut.
"Go on," Biggie said.
"I was one of the lucky ones," she continued. "I didn't die. Some did, and they were buried under the cornfield."
"I don't believe it." Rob was shocked. "The authorities would have known."
"That's what you think," Stacie said. "The preacher, his name was Brother Jimson, and his wife were the best liars in the world. When the social workers came around, they'd just say the dead kids were off visiting friends or some such thing. The fools never caught on. That is until one official got smart. He started in questioning us kids. At first we were too scared to talk." She stopped. "I'm hungry and I'm thirsty!"
The ranger went into the kitchen and shortly Josefina came out and set down a tray with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies on the table beside Stacie. Stacie ate a whole cookie and drank half the glass of milk before she would say another word.
"So what happened next?" Biggie prodded.
"They closed the place, and we were all sent to other foster homes." Stacie shuddered. "I had nightmares for years about Brother Jimson coming to take me back again."
"But he never came?" Babe asked.
Stacie gave her a scornful look. "Of course not. He was in jail. Then I went to live with a family in Waco. They had a bunch of us kids, as many as five at one time. They paid their bills by taking in foster kids. But they fed us good and gave us a clean place to sleep. We all used to wonder about our birth families. In bed at night, we'd talk about finding them someday. Naturally, we all imagined our real parents had been searching for us all our lives— and they were all rich."
"But your dream came true." Biggie said.
"Uh-huh."
"Tell us about that."
"It was just a miracle, that's all. See, what happened, I had been starved so much as a little kid that when I got enough to eat, I just couldn't stop. I got fatter and fatter until the doctor told my foster parents something had to be done. I was getting what he called 'morbidly obese.' He told my foster mother about this place, and I was sent here. The miracle was, my very own mother was the owner."
"Laura." Biggie said.
"Yeah. I'd been pretty miserable here from the very first and showed it. She"— she pointed to Grace—"reminded me of old Brother Jimson, the way she treated us mean and made us work."
"It was for your own good," Grace said.
"Yeah, that's what he said, too. But then one day Laura took me aside and told me she had found out from my birth records that she was my own long-lost mother. She said she'd been searching for me ever since the day she gave me away. I was the happiest kid alive."
"Well, you sure didn't act that way." Misty spoke for the first time.
"I know. Laura told me to act the same as I always had— that we couldn't tell anyone about us. It was our secret, you see."
"Why?" Babe wanted to know.
"Because she thought the others might resent me if they knew."
"Hogwash," Abner grunted.
"I agree," said Grace. "You should have told us all."
"Well, that wasn't all," Stacie continued. "See, Laura had a problem. The camp was costing a lot more than she thought it would. Since old Rex had gotten sick, she had been taking money out of his investment accounts. I guess that lawyer found out and told Rex about it. Anyway, she was afraid he would, so she said we had to help Rex out of his misery; then she could inherit his money and she'd be able to keep helping poor overweight girls like me. She loved us all." Stacie looked around the room. "All she ever wanted to do was help people."
Babe stood up. "Are you telling us you murdered my daddy? I ought to kill you now!"
The ranger stepped forward and put his hand on Babe's shoulder. She glared at him but sat back down.
"How was it done?" Biggie's voice was calm, but her eyes flashed.
Stacie sighed. "I don't guess it matters now. The only person I ever loved is dead."
"So what happened." Abner's voice was grim.
"Remember the night he died? How I came in acting crazy, and took Laura into the study?"
"Of course we remember," Babe said. "Get on with it!"
"We had it all planned. As soon as we got in there, Laura took the gun and slipped out the French doors. I followed to watch. She hurried across the patio and shot Rex through the window. She missed the first time and hit Jeremy. The second shot killed Rex. Then the gun accidentally went off again. She was really nervous. After she flipped the breaker switch so the lights would go out she came back into the study where you found us both." She looked smugly around at the group. "You'd have never figured it out, if I hadn't told you."
"I'm afraid you're wrong, young lady," the ranger said. "We were damn close to figuring it out. You've just filled in some of the blanks."
Just then, the phone rang. Grace went into the hall to answer it. When she came back in, she had a look on her face that was a mixture of relief and something else— fear, I guess. She sat down quickly on the couch as if she might fall if she didn't. "Laura's awake," she said. "And she's okay!"
Stacie leaped out of her chair faster than a mountain lion and jumped on top of Biggie. Growling like an animal, she put her hands around Biggie's throat and began to choke her. "You lied!" she screamed and tightened her grip.
The rest of sat open mouthed while Ranger Upchurch and Rosebud pulled Stacie away. She fought like a sack of wildcats, but the two of them finally got her subdued and back in her chair. My heart was in my throat as I went to Biggie.
* * *
Later at home, we sat around the fire in the den. Biggie, curled up in her chair and drinking a hot herbal drink Willie Mae had made to soothe her throat, spoke first. "For the first time in my life, I reckon I've looked pure evil in the face."
"Stacie?" I asked.
"No, honey, that girl was just a pawn. Laura."
"'For the lips of the strange woman drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil, but her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps take hold on hell.'" Willie Mae spoke in a funny singsong voice.
"Huh?" I said.
"Exactly," Biggie said. "It's from the Bible, honey."
Rosebud stood up to throw another log on the fire. "What's gonna happen now?"
"A long recovery, I'm sure," Biggie said. "Then Red Upchurch intends to make sure Laura goes on trial for first-degree murder."
"Why did she have to kill him? I'd just found my new granddaddy, and she had to go and do that before I even got to know him. He was about to die anyway." The more I thought about it, the madder I got.
"She had to move fast. Jeremy Polk had begun to sense something was wrong. I imagine he had already confided his suspicions to Rex. Then, too, I think she was hoping she'd get the job done before he had a chance to change his will."
"What's gonna happen to Stacie and the rest of them girls?" Willie Mae asked.
"Most of them will just go back home, I guess," Biggie said. "As for Stacie, she's almost sixteen. I suppose she could go back into foster care. Of course, there's the possibility she may be sent to juvenile detention. I doubt it, though. It's pretty obvious she was used and manipulated by Laura. What she needs most is psychiatric care. I'll just have to talk to the judge about that."
"Why would you want to do that, Biggie? She tried to kill you."
"Well, I…"
Rosebud broke in. "That little gal's had a hard row to hoe. I reckon she could use a friend…."
"That's exactly right, Rosebud. Tomorrow I'll go down and talk to Judge Bass about it."
"Was she really Laura's daughter?" I asked.
Biggie's face hardened. "Not for a minute. Laura only made up that story to trick Stacie into doing what she wanted. The baby bracelet we found? That belonged to Babe. Laura hung on to it because she thought it might be useful— and maybe to keep it out of Babe's hands."
"That's really cold," I said.
"You right about that." Rosebud stretched his feet out so they'd be closer to the fire. "How'd you figure out how they done it, Miss Biggie?"
"I didn't know for sure. But when J.R. told me he'd seen the curtain blowing in that study on the night of the murder, then later the door was sealed and plants were growing just outside, well that started me thinking…." Biggie yawned and stretched. "Any more questions?"
We all shook our heads.
"Good." She set her mug down and stood up. "I'm off to bed then."
The others followed, but I stayed in the den watching the fire until it died down. Then I went to the hall phone and called Misty. I had something to say to her that couldn't wait until tomorrow.