The old man sighed. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from lack of sleep. “No, tanks,” he said. “Reckon I’d better head on home. Mama’s taking this real hard. I shouldn’t leave her alone for very long at a stretch.”
“Is she all right?” Joanna asked. “She seemed okay last night.”
Jim Bob shook his head. “You know Eva Lou,” he said wearily. “She’s fine as long as she’s busy doin’ for somebody else, but this morning, I think it finally hit home, what with the rumors and all.”
“You’ve heard them, too?” Joanna asked. She had hoped to spare her in-laws from some of the ugliness, but that was impossible. They lived in the town. They had eyes and ears.
Daddy Jim shrugged. “Heard some of ‘em last night right here from old Clayton Rhodes. I didn’t pass ‘em along to Mama, though, ‘cause I was afraid they’d like to kill her. Wouldn’t you know somebody called her up bright and early this morning to talk about it? And it was on the TV news as well. To hear them talk, it’s like it’s all cut and dried, like Andy’s guilty as sin when he’s not here to defend himself. It don’t seem fair to me that you’re innocent until proven guilty ‘less, of course, you’re dead. Then all bets are off. I’ll tell you what, it’s about to break Eva Lou’s heart. I mean, it’s bad enough for him to be dead, but this… Damn!”
The old man strode away from her a few paces and swiped savagely at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. In all the years she’d known him Joanna had never seen her father-in-law shed tear.
Alter a time he straightened his shoulders d drew a deep breath. “Where’s it gonna end, Joanna?” he asked, walking back to her. “You hear all these terrible things, all these. It don’t seem possible that they’re talking about my boy, about my Andy, about him killing somebody in cold blood, about him taking money from drug dealers and all. But nobody’s standing up for him, either. No one’s yelling from the rooftops that Andrew Roy Brady never did any such thing!”
“I am,” Joanna said quietly.
Jim Bob Brady looked at her earnestly. “So you don’t think he did all those things, either, you?”
“No.”
“But what do we do about it?”
“Try to prove they’re wrong,” Joanna answered.
“How?”
“I don’t know. By going to the bank and finding out where the money came from to buy my ring, for one thing,” she replied. “By finding out exactly when Lefty O’Toole was murdered and by showing conclusively that Andy was nowhere around when that happened”
“Have you seen this note they keep talking about?” Jim Bob asked hoarsely. “The suicide note?”
“Not yet, but I will. He wouldn’t do that, Daddy Jim.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Jim Bob Brady returned. “Don’t you think I know my own son well enough to say he’d never do such a thing, never leave his wife and child to make it on their own?” His voice cracked and he stopped for a moment.
“But how do you convince somebody else?” he continued. “I called Dick Voland last night after Mama fell asleep. I called then because I didn’t want her knowin’ what I was up to. I asked him straight out about hirin’ a private investigator to look into this matter. Do you know what he says to me? He tells me to save my money and not bother. They must think they’ve got a pretty good case.”
“Except for one small thing,” Joanna asserted vehemently. “Andy didn’t do it. He wouldn’t kill another human being, not unless his very life depended on it, and maybe not even then.”
The dim light of hope seemed to switch back on in Jim Bob Brady’s eyes. “Do you think we’ll we be able to prove it, Joanna?” he asked. “Will we be able to get anyone else to see it our way?”
The old man’s tremulous hope caused a sudden stiffening in Joanna’s spine. “We’re going to try,” Joanna responded. “We’re going use every trick in the book.”
Jim Bob Brady shook his head. “I can’t tell u what it would mean to Mama, if you found out Andy didn’t do all those awful things,” he said.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, then he went on. “Thank you, Joanna. You do whatever it is you need to do, and don’t worry out the stock. Clayton and I talked it over last night. He says he’ll come over of an evening, and I can handle mornings. That way you won’t have to worry about it.”
“Daddy Jim,” Joanna objected firmly. “I appreciate the offer, but these cattle are not your problem. Jennifer and I can take care of things round here.”
“Maybe so,” Jim Bob Brady agreed. “In fact, don’t have a doubt in the world. The point, you shouldn’t have to. Not right now. Besides, bein’ back out here takes my mind off my troubles, helps me think about other things.”
If that was true, if coming out to do chores was therapeutic, Joanna could hardly tell him no. “All right,” she conceded reluctantly, “but promise me that you won’t work too hard, that you won’t overdo it.”
“I promise,” he said quickly. “I may look old and all wore out, but I can still heft me a mean bale of hay now and then.”
Behind them the screen door on the back porch banged open. “Mom,” Jennifer said, “are you ready? It’s getting late.”
“She wants to go to school today,” Joanna explained, worried that her father-in-law might take offense. “I told her it was up to her, that I’d take her in if she wants to go.”
“I’m headed that way myself, Jenny,” Jim Bob Brady said, speaking to the child over her mother’s head. “Your mom’s real busy. Go get your stuff. I’ll drop you off on my way back home.”
Jennifer dashed back into the house. The old man stepped closer to Joanna. This time, when he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “I don’t mean to pry, Joanna, but are you and Jenny gonna be all right as far as money’s concerned?”
He asked the question awkwardly, as though he knew he had no right to ask but found himself powerless in the face of his agonizing need to know.
“We’ll be fine, Daddy Jim,” Joanna answered. “I work for an insurance company, and Milo saw to it that we owned some. There’ll be money from that and from Social Security as well. You don’t have to worry on that score.”
He sighed with relief. “I’m real happy to or it. Maybe it’ll help me sleep a little better tonight, but then again, maybe not.”
Once more the screen door banged. Jennifer appeared between them carrying a lunch bag and a stack of books. Jim Bob Brady patted her shoulder fondly. “I suppose we’d best be getting along. Otherwise, you’re gonna be tardy.”
Jennifer headed toward the Honda, but despite his words, Jim Bob made no move to follow. He stood with both hands shoved deep his pockets.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “Mama and me were both pretty upset way back then when you and Andy turned up pregnant and all. We thought you was too young and crazy get married and make it work, to make a go of it, but you did, by God.
“You were still just a kid, Joanna, but you de him a hell of a good wife. You helped him with school and made him grow up in a way Mama and I never could have. I want you know right now that you’re as much a daughter to me as Andy ever was a son, and I don’t want you to forget it. If you and Jenny need something, anything at all, you come to me first, you hear?”
Joanna nodded wordlessly, her eyes filling with tears.
“Good,” he said. “I just wanted you to know.”
With that, he pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out to Joanna. It was an odd, surprising gesture. After all he’d said, she expected a hug, but Jim Bob Brady came from stem, dry-land farming stock where physical displays of affection didn’t come easily.
Joanna reached out to return what she thought was a proffered handshake. Instead, he placed something in her upturned palm and pressed her fingers shut around it.
Startled, Joanna opened her hand and looked. There, neatly folded into a tiny square, lay a piece of paper
