Read Online The Woods at Barlow Bend by Jodie Cain Smith - Free Book Online Page B

do you think that?”
    “Because they just arrested him in our God-forsaken dining room!” My voice cracked as tears filled my eyes. I swallowed hard and forced myself not to cry. I looked the officer directly in the eyes; after all, what did I have to be ashamed of; and asked, “Will you please see if he was brought here? Mr. Hubbard Andrews?”
    “Wait here, Miss. I’ll go check.”
    I sat down on the hard , wooden bench and waited for what seemed like an eternity until the officer finally came back.
    “Miss Andrews, your daddy was brought here,” the officer said, then gave me the all too familiar head tilt of sympathy, “Seems the charge is murder. Your momma?”
    “Are you asking me if he did it?”
    “Oh, no, Miss. Just…well, he was brought here. They’re processing him now. He’ll have to stay here a while.”
    “When can he come home?”
    “Well, it bein’ Saturday and all…Judge Bedsole won’t be back till Monday. So, the judge will decide Monday.”
    “Decide what?”
    “Oh, ya know, bail, trial dates, all that,” said the officer as if Daddy was arrested for murder every day of the week; as if Daddy being arrested was common or mundane. I wanted to smack him hard, right across the face, but thought better of it.
    “So, he can’t come home yet?”
    I felt like I was six years old again lost at the State Fair. I was supposed to hold onto Momma’s hand, but I let go, just for a second. When I turned to grab her hand again, she was gone. All I could see was a sea of legs. The crowd swept in so fast and chaotic, it pushed me away from Momma until I was completely alone standing on a grassy patch next to the main drag. Luckily, on that day, Momma found me within minutes. Momma’s hand wouldn’t lead me away from the nightmare that surrounded me in the jailhouse.
    I left the jail and walked back toward the hotel with my head spinning. Daddy would be arraigned on Monday, a term I had learned from my novels. Daddy would enter his plea of not guilty , the judge would set his bail, I would pay the clerk, and then we would wait for the trial, at least that’s what happened in my books. So, I would go to the courthouse on Monday and wait for him. I would get him back.
    A round four o’clock, I snuck in through the back entrance to the hotel, cutting through the kitchen. I could smell that Henrietta already had the grease hot for the dinner service. We would have customers soon, so I ran the four flights of stairs up to my room to clean up before going to work. I splashed some water on my face and brushed my hair, re-pinning it back on the sides.
    “ Meg?” I called down the hall.
    She responded with an annoyed, “Yeah, Hattie, what?” from the room we used as a parlor.
    “Make sure the boys get dinner and washed up before bed. We’ve got church tomorrow, and you kids have Sunday school,” I told her, “Oh, and, Daddy’s out. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.” For this last part, I looked straight at her from the doorway of our makeshift parlor, “Make sure it’s an emergency.”
    I didn’t have time to tell Meg what happened. I planned to tell her later that night, after the boys were asleep and the customers had all come and gone. Meg would surely have made a huge scene and give some sort of tear-soaked monologue, but I had work to do, so I put off the inevitable, ran down the stairs, and gave the dining room a quick once-over. At four-thirty on the dot, I unlocked the front door and flipped the Sorry, We’re Closed to Yes, We’re Open! Please come in .
    The café was crowded that night with a steady stream of hungry customers. When the place was empty and clean, and the front door securely locked, I sat down to a bowl of butter beans and ham. After devouring every bite, I carefully counted the register drawer. Between lunch and dinner that day, there was $46.25 in the register. Daddy always counted the drawer privately after every service, so I had no idea so much money would be