Chapter Thirty Nine

With those words, Anita gave Jack the final piece of the puzzle. Oliver was obeying Max Slate's every command because Max had promised him this prestigious position in the state government, one Oliver would never have been able to achieve on his own. This was bribery and political corruption at its finest, and Jack would have been furious if this piece of information hadn't presented her with an idea.

"Deputy Attorney General?" Corrie exclaimed, her mouth gaping open. "Is he...is he qualified?"

"Of course not! Max Slate is influential," Jack said, imitating her sister. "And he's rich. He must have somehow contrived this so Oliver would hand Donovan over."

"This makes no sense!" Anita said, standing to her feet. "Why on earth would Max Slate go to so much trouble for one man?"

Silence fell, but Jack knew the answer. "Love," she murmured, her voice dark.

Even Corrie looked dumbfounded. How could something so pure be responsible for so much pain? But Jack knew what was driving Max Slate, and power, money, and land had nothing to do with his motivation.

"Love and revenge. Donovan killed his oldest brother, and I killed Clyde. Whatever kind of sick monster Max Slate is, he loved his brothers, and now he wants revenge. He wants Donovan to die," Jack explained.

"What can we do?" Corrie said. "With no evidence, how can we stop Father?"

Jack already knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to expose Oliver's corruption so the entire town could condemn him. She wanted Irvington rise against them both and save Donovan, but with one look at her sister, she knew she couldn't condemn her sister and nieces to a life of ignominy.

"I don't know," Jack confessed. "But I have some words for your father."

Jack stormed out of the room, leaving her sister and nieces dumbfounded. Jack may not be able to divulge Oliver's wrongdoings to the entire town, she could certainly express her own dismay at his crimes. Perhaps guilt would prove stronger than fear and convince him to release Donovan. With one hand on the balustrade, Jack dashed down the stairs and stormed into Oliver's office. She pushed Mr. Bricker who tried to stop her and rushed past him.

The mahogany door slammed shut behind her as she stood in front of Oliver. The pudgy mayor stood behind his desk, his cloudy eyes bulging and his face red. He clutched the edge of his desk with white knuckled fingers as Dr. Benjamin stood before him, his chair pushed behind him. Both men's gazes jumped to Jack when she entered, and Oliver flinched.

"I need to have a word with you," Jack said, her voice calm and steely even though she was seething.

"Jacqueline, Doctor, I'm afraid this is official government business," Oliver blustered, emerging from behind his desk to shoo them towards the door. "While I understand your personal interest in this matter, I must attend to this with the impartiality of a member of the government."

Refusing to budge, Jack let out a low laugh. "Don't pretend you are operating under a guise of impartiality. I know the truth."

The words stunned Oliver and his bushy gray eyebrows rose as he sputtered, "I have no idea what you're implying, Miss Harrison, but-"

"Don't play with me!" Jack yelled, taking a menacing step forward. Heat poured through her body as Oliver cowered before her. "Do you want to be responsible for killing an innocent man, all because you want a position in the state government?"

Oliver's face turned from red to white, and a bitter smile played across Jack's lips. She was right; Oliver was accepting a bribe.

"You--this is preposterous! I've done nothing wrong!" Oliver said, retreating behind his desk.

"Jack, what are you talking about?" Dr. Benjamin asked, turning to her with his dark eyebrows furrowed.

The mahogany door creaked open, and Jack saw Corrie, Anita, and Christina watching the heated exchange, their eyes wide. Perhaps there was a time for ration and peace, but that time had long passed and Jack couldn't contain her anger.

"This man," Jack said, extending a finger at Oliver who seemed to shrink into a mere shadow of a man. "The mayor of our town, is taking a bribe from Max Slate. In exchange for having Donovan killed, Max has arranged for Oliver to be appointed as the Deputy Attorney General of Virginia. He's exchanging a life for a job."

Silence fell and Oliver could say nothing. Though normally a regal, imperious man, he now look defeated, and Jack wondered if she should pity him for his difficult position. Max must have threatened him and the town, and fear was a powerful motivator, but Jack knew she would never let fear force her to hurt someone else.

"You can't prove anything!" Oliver cried.

"So you don't deny it?" Jack exclaimed though she knew he was right. Without evidence, there was nothing she could do.

Oliver came around the desk, his eyes beady, and leered at her. "You know nothing, Jacqueline Harrison," Oliver spat. "That Donovan killed someone, and a firing squad is the punishment he deserves."

A shiver went down Jack's back; in her desire to confront Oliver and use his guilt to incite him to honesty, she had angered him and made things worse. A firing squad. Jack pictured the scene in her mind, a line of men when with guns all aimed at Donovan. She closed her eyes and heard the blast of ten guns.

"Mayor Walker, please, there must be some other way!" Dr. Benjamin said, standing in front of Oliver when he made his way to the door.

His eyes bulging, Oliver glared from Dr. Benjamin to Jack. "You have insulted my character as a representative of our fine state, and I won't have it. The man is a murderer, and he will die as one."

Oliver left his office and stormed to Mr. Bricker. "Bricker," he shouted. "Summon the town. I have an announcement."

Jack's heart sunk in her chest; her anger had only instigated Oliver into taking more serious action. She followed him out the door to the foyer of the house with stiff movements, images of Donovan occupying her mind. Had she just condemned him to death in her attempt to exonerate him?

Oliver opened the heavy front door and it clattered behind him; he stood on the front porch and held onto the railing, his eyes fastened ahead of him.

"What's he going to do?" Christina whispered, but Jack couldn't answer her.

There had been no tribunal, no judge, no jury. Oliver was the man who would decide Donovan's fate, and Jack's attempt at using guilt to spur him to righteousness had backfired. She closed her eyes and saw the firing squad. No.

Mr. Bricker with the help of a handful of children spread the news of Oliver's announcement and the town gathered in the middle of the road in front of the mayor's mansion. With a hand on her arm, Corrie pulled her down the stairs to the edge of the crowd. The townspeople whispered amongst themselves, casting curious glances at Jack, but her eyes were fastened on Oliver. Would he really go so far as to condemn a man for money and power, instigated by Jack's recognition of his wrongdoing? But she knew the answer. Oliver Walker had always been a greedy coward, and she swore she'd never set foot in house again if he went through with this.

A hand touched her shoulder, and Jack turned to see Julius Booker standing behind her, his hands stained with ink from the newspaper stand. He and Hannah, who worked at the newspaper as well, joined the growing crowd.

If Oliver swore to have Donovan executed here, in front of the entire town, how would Jack vindicate him? Oliver would never go back on his word, especially not now. Jack's hope shuddered and died within her. She could only wait for the announcement.

Once a final stragglers joined the crowd, Oliver cleared his voice and rapped his cane on the porch. "Good people of Irvington," he said. "I apologize for gathering you here under such short notice, but there is a matter which I must address with no further ado." Tittering whispers swarmed the crowd. "As most of you know, yesterday I took Kitchi Donovan, an Indian man who is not from these parts, into custody. He has been arrested for first degree murder, theft, and destruction of property."

Jack chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out; he was guilty of none of these crimes, but everything from the last few weeks--Titus's death, Jack shooting Clyde, Max burning the Bookers' house--fell on Donovan's weary shoulders. She hoped the town wouldn't believe Oliver, but she was afraid they would. Few towns in the southern United States would trust the word of a woman or an Indian over that of a wealthy rich man, especially the mayor.

"With the unfortunate demise of our dear sheriff," Oliver continued, and Jack heard Hannah curse under her breath. "I must assume his duties and administer justice as I see fit. It has come to my attention that this is not the first time Kitchi Donovan has been accused of a crime, but he was able to escape justice before. He will not escape today."

Oliver's thundering voice was met with devastating silence. Jack saw that no one in the town looked eager to join the mayor's witch hunt but neither did they want to speak their disapproval. What a bunch of pansies.

"He has been condemned to execution via firing squad. I am in need of men with steady aim who are willing to assist me in seeing justice done and protecting our town. That will be all."

Oliver rapped the porch with his cane one last time and spun around, the tail of his coats swishing. He marched into the house and slammed the door shut behind him, and Jack was left to face the impact of his words.

Execution via firing squad.

Was Jack to blame for Donovan's fate? Jack's stomach twisted at the thought. She had shot Clyde. She had incited to Oliver to declare Donovan's fate publicly. But she also had a chance. If she could somehow prove that Oliver was being bribed...but how?

"Come on, Jack," Julius said, wrapping a protective arm over her shoulder. "Let's go home. Minnie's making pumpkin pie for dinner and told me to make sure I brought you with me."

As delicious as Minnie's pie was, even that held little appeal to Jack knowing that the Bookers were forced to live in Jack's home because their own had burnt down. Max Slate and his greed and revenge had tarnished everything in Jack's life. Julius guided Jack towards the path to her house.

"Did you know Minnie and I had a son?" Julius asked as they walked, his voice careless.

Jack stopped and turned to look at him, her interest piqued. "What? A son? No, Minnie never told me. I thought you only had Esther."

Julius shook his head, his dark eyes fastened on the horizon. He wouldn't look at Jack. "No, we had a boy, too. Earl Harold Booker. He was older than Esther by a few years and she was only ten when he turned eighteen."

Jack wanted to ask Julius what happened, but she could not interrupt him. If he and Minnie had hidden this from her for this many years, there must be a reason and Jack could only assume it was tragic.

"He was a good boy--strong, a hard worker. This was before we moved to Boston, so while I worked at the library shelving books, he harvested crops for a local farmer. We were happy, me and Minnie and Esther and Earl. Then one day, the farmer's wife lost a set of jewelry passed down through her family for years. It was worth good money, and they assumed Earl stole it. There wasn't any evidence, and Earl had never caused any problems, but it didn't matter. That woman thought he was guilty, so they strung him up faster than ice melts in a Mississippi summer."

Jack's jaw dropped and she stood in the middle of the path, staring at Julius. "They hung him?" she exclaimed.

Julius did not face Jack, but she saw the tension and anger rippling in the muscles along his arms and in his ticking jaw. "They hung up the very next day. The boy was innocent, but there was nothing Minnie or I could do."

The silence between them grew, thundering and terrifying. They had killed Julius's son, and now they were going to kill Donovan, and there was nothing Jack could do.

"The worst part about it was that a few weeks later, we found out that the farmer had sold the jewelry himself to finance his drinking habit." Julius shook his head, pressing a hand to his forehead. "His death was totally meaningless, so everyone made sure to forget it. Everyone except us. That's why we moved north."

Jack approached Julius and put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Julius."

He smiled at her, covering her hand with his, but Jack saw the wrinkles between his eyes that marked the pain he'd silently held for so long.

"There's a reason I told you that story, Jack. I don't want Donovan to end up like my Earl, but this feud with the Slates, even if you and Donovan both somehow survive it, won't end. Mark my words, Jack. This won't end until one of them is dead."