The Cat, The Devil, The Last Escape by Shirley Rousseau Murphy and Pat J.J. Murphy Read Free Book Online Page B

different part of the world. She looked forward to his return next year when his tour of duty ended.
    By the time Becky turned sixteen and got her driver’s license, her brothers had moved on with their lives. She had felt very grown-up, handling the deliveries herself, before and after school. She had helped with them after she and Morgan were married, until Sammie was born. Even during the war years Caroline made an adequate living, using special recipes that took little of the precious rationed sugar but were still delicious.
    Now, at forty-eight, Caroline was as energetic and slim as ever, a tall, strong woman whom Becky, at this time in her life, deeply envied. She wished she had half her mother’s resilience, wished she could follow better Caroline’s hardheaded approach to life. Caroline Tanner had always tackledproblems head-on, stubbornly weighing each possible solution, choosing the most viable one, then plunging ahead with no holds barred. If Caroline had tears during those hard years, she cried them in private.
    They were halfway through supper when Caroline said, “The next thing is to go for an appeal. You need a better lawyer.” She looked steadily at Becky. “I plan to help with his fees. I want Falon taken down, I want to see him in prison. I want Morgan out of that place.”
    â€œMama, I don’t—”
    â€œIt’s family money. Half of it will be yours one day and you need it now. If it bothers you to take it, you can pay me back after Morgan gets out.”
    â€œIf he gets out.”
    Caroline stared at her. “ When he gets out. Morgan is in prison unjustly. We keep at it until we find a better lawyer, get an appeal and a new trial. A fair trial. But not in Rome,” she said bitterly.
    Becky laid her hand over Caroline’s. “You make it sound so simple.”
    â€œThere’s no other way. First thing is to find an attorney.”
    â€œI’ve already made some inquiries,” Becky said. “There are several lawyers in Atlanta I want to see. But, Mama, we need new evidence, stronger evidence, for an appeal. I want to talk with the tellers, with Mrs. Herron and Betty Holmes, and the younger teller. I want to talk with the bank manager, and the witness who saw Morgan’s car leave the bank.” She sighed. “I mean to talk with Natalie Hooper, though I don’t look forward to facing that piece of trash.”
    Caroline gave Becky a long look. “That’s not the way to go.” She rose to cut the shortcake and lathered on whipped cream. “Let the lawyer do that. You could compromise the case.”
    Watching her mother, Becky thought about that. She watched Sammie, too. Though the child made quick work ofher dessert she was too quiet, hurting so bad inside, missing her daddy.
    Still, though, after the good meal Sammie seemed steadier. Her color brightened; she seemed more alive, less subdued than when they’d left the jail. “Can I go outside and play?”
    Becky and Caroline looked at each other. “In the front yard,” Becky said. “Stay in front of the big window where we can see you.”
    Sammie nodded. She walked quietly through the house and out the front door, not running as she normally would. Becky and Caroline moved into the living room to sit on the couch looking out the bay window, watching her.
    â€œThe new attorney should talk to the witnesses,” Caroline repeated. “Particularly Falon’s girlfriend, his key witness. What if Falon found out you’d questioned her? Don’t you think he’d make trouble?”
    â€œMama, I . . . tried to speak to her yesterday, in the parking lot after the sentencing. He probably knows that. She was still nervous, even more upset than she showed on the witness stand. I thought if I could get her to say something incriminating . . .”
    Watching her mother, Becky wilted. “I guess that was foolish. I