“Yes, sir. What will he do outside?”
“Mr. Faust mentioned he’ll be the new groundskeeper for the warden.”
“That would suit Papa.” I slumped back in my seat and relaxed a bit, thinking of him happy out in the fresh air.
We rode the rest of the way in silence while I fretted about Perry Gillis’s revenge and Guyla Belle’s whereabouts.
***
We pulled into the yard just as a state policeman escorted Gillis’s sister over to an official automobile. She toted a whimpering Johnnie on her hip, his face tucked tight into her chest. Ida stopped long enough to glare hotly at me, her tears streaked on reddened cheeks. Shuddering, I sank back against the automobile seat.
Another automobile pulled in behind us, and two more followed. Law enforcement officers jumped out and huddled in the yard.
“Come on, Honey. Let’s go talk with them.”
I snuck another peek at Gillis’s sister, her hard eyes boring into mine. We got out and I walked slowly over to the men, my head tucked tight to my chest, the fear dampening my clothes.
“Mr. Morgan?” A tall, redheaded officer approached, and I turned to my lawyer as he extended his hand.
“Mr. Morgan, I’m Sergeant Mattingly. Thanks for coming. We got the warrant signed.” He shifted his gaze to me. “You must be Miss Lovett. Thank you for coming. Let’s talk on the porch while the men do their job.”
A few state police brushed past as they went inside the home. I told Sergeant Mattingly everything I knew, sneaking glances over to Gillis’s sister who still stood fuming by the automobile. “Then Perry Gillis and his mama left the Company store. We had a fire at the cab, and I tried to tell the sheriff about Perry and Guyla gone missing. He didn’t believe me.” I exhaled, wrapping up the events.
An officer walked out of the cabin and hurried over to us.
“Did you find her?” Sergeant Mattingly asked.
I looked at the two men and held my breath.
“No, Sarge, the house is clear.”
“Cellar?”
“Yes, sir, all of it,” the lawman said.
I exhaled loudly. Guyla Belle finally left him and was somewhere safe.
Suddenly, Johnnie escaped Ida and ran up to me bawling, baring a black eye and bruised chin.
I gasped at his swollen face. Johnnie tugged on my skirts, pulled at my arm. “Buk ’uman saved well. Save Ma-ma well!” Johnnie pointed out to the yard, then gripped my hand and jerked harder. “Ma-ma-ma!” he wailed.
Confused, I repeated his words. “Save Mama well?”
Then Johnnie lifted up his arms to me, pleading. “Save Mama. Ma-ma fall’d down well!”
Tears sprang from my eyes, and with trembling hands, I plucked up the terrified child and held him to my chest, rocking, murmuring soothing words. He pushed his face into my shoulder and wept.
“Shh, shh, Johnnie. It’s okay. Shh.” I pressed kisses to the top of his head and patted his back, knowing nothing would ever be okay for this little boy again.
Everyone quieted. The officers looked at the boy, then to one another before suddenly swarming the well.
“Get this boy inside and bust open that damn well!” Sergeant Mattingly bellowed to the men.
A lawman lifted the sobbing boy from my arms and rushed him into the cabin. Another official collected Ida and followed.
Some of the men ran to their automobiles and retrieved axes and picks from their trunks. They chipped at the concrete mouth of the well for a long time while Mr. Morgan and the sergeant chatted somberly about the latest news in these parts.