The town of Drinking Water moved on. Like a constant water flow down the face of a mountain it continued on its course. Change came to Drinking Water that Friday. Esau Richmond not only hired a new butler, but Franklin Smith and Ally were replaced. Hattie was allowed to remain only because she was Ida' Richmond's personal maid. No one questioned this injustice.

Ishmael and Jude Richmond also vanished and though some people found this suspicious no one dared accuse anyone of anything. Ishmael was said to have gone back to Europe with his dogs and Jude was said to have returned to Georgia with the young Richmond boys.

/

Idris St. Cloud stepped out of the coach and read the sign above the saloon. By the name he assumed he had the right place. He walked onto the porch where two women and a drunken man watched him go inside.

Idris removed his hat and covered his nose to block at the smell of the booze and the dirty people that occupied the saloon. It seemed no matter what time of day people passed these places they was always the same. Filthy.

"Excuse me, sir," he said to the man behind the bar. "I'm looking for a Mr..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. "A Mr. Dale."

"Mr. Dale?" the bartender laughed. "You looking to bury a stiff?"

"Excuse me?"

"A stiff," the bartender said. "Sorry if it's a relative."

"Oh. No, sir I'm not looking to bury anyone," Idris said having to raise his voice over a singing drunk. "Tell me...just what sort of man is this Dale?"

"Dale keeps the grounds in Corner Cemetery," the bartender said with a snotty sniffle. "Most people look for him when they are burying someone."

"I see," Idris said. "I was referred to him by Mr. Arnold. He said he could help me locate a person I'm looking for."

The bartender nodded. "Dale picked up work here for a couple of days but took ill. I think he caught something from one of them bodies. He no longer works here but still tries to maintain the cemetery. He lives with his daughter on Crooked Creek Road. Don't know the address though."

"Crooked Creek Road," Idris repeated the words. "Thank you, have a nice evening." He stepped back into the twilight and walked up to the coach. "Crooked Creek Road, please." As the coach rocked up the cobble stones he rested his head. How he longed to be back home with his family in Tennessee.

After a time of traveling the coachman stopped at the cross section in the road. "We are here, sir," he said opening the door.

Idris stepped out of the coach and looked around. "Are you sure this is it?"

"Absolutely," the coachman said. "It's just the coach will get stuck on the road if I take it up. If you need me to I'll wait here."

Idris nodded. "Just give me a few minutes," he said reaching back into the coach and collecting his messenger bag. He looked up the dark road. It didn't seem like there were even any houses. The longer he stared however he thought he could see a faint glow coming from the other side of the trees. "If I'm not back in an hour get the police."

"Yes, sir," the coachman said as Idris dropped money into his hand. He watched the younger man until he disappeared in the darkness then climbed back into his seat to count his money.

Idris knocked on three doors before someone was able to tell him the address to Mr. Dale's home. It was pitch-black out by the time he arrived at the dilapidated shack. There were post on the yard left over from where a fence once stood and he had to step high in order to get up on the porch. He knocked on the thin door and it jostled in its frame, threatening to come open. When he heard a voice he knocked again a little louder.

"Who is it?"

"Hello? Mr. Dale...I'm here to see you about Isaac Richmond. Mr. Arnold who lives over in Drinking Water said I could find you here."

The door opened a smidge. "What do you want with my father?" A woman's voice asked.

Idris tried to see into her face but it was concealed by shadows. "Good evening, miss. I'm here to talk to your father about something that happened in Drinking Water a long time ago."

"My father doesn't want to speak with you," the woman said and tried to close the door but a weak voice from behind stopped her.

"Annabelle, let the gentleman in."

"Gentleman?" the woman scoffed. "What sort of Gentleman calls at this hour?"

Mr. Dale coughed. "No scoundrel would use such manners with folks out here."

Annabelle sucked her teeth but stepped aside and let Idris in. "I hope you aren't hungry. We only have enough for ourselves."

"Bella." Her father shook his head at her. "I'm sorry. Bella here has found her share of brutes. Please, sit down."

Idris looked around the wide room. He could see that they both slept in the same room by the smaller bed in the corner. It also appeared that they ate here judging by the little table and single chair. He eased himself into the chair as the old man was helped to sit up by his daughter.

"I don't usually look like this," Mr. Dale said. "I only very recently took sick."

"Papa you know you've been ill since December," Annabelle said. "Men are so stubborn."

Idris looked around the house. It looked like both ceiling and floor wouldn't withstand a breeze.

"So, tell me why you've come all the way up here to see me?" Mr. Dale said. "No one ever comes to see us out here."

Idris cleared his throat. "I was told by Mr. Arnold that you could tell me about Isaac Richmond."

Annabelle looked up from where she stood by the bed. "What do you want to know about him for?"

"Bella, I do believe he was talking to me," Mr. Dale said. His whole body seemed to shake with every word. "But I have to agree with my girl. What do you want to know about that for?"

Idris looked down at his messenger bag. He was aware of the twin blue eyes waiting for him to answer. "What if I told you I also don't think he died in a church fire?"

Annabelle turned away and paced the room. Idris watched her rubbing her arms and neck. The tough woman that had opened the door to him had evaporated.

"Papa, I'm gonna see dinner isn't burning," she said and stepped into the adjoining room.

"Poor Bella," Mr. Dale said. "She didn't deserve to be punished because of me."

"Because of you?"

"Yes," Mr. Dale said. "You may not know it but I used to live in Drinking Water. I used to keep the grounds in Sabbath Cemetery."

"What made you move here?"

"I didn't like what I saw...what I heard."

"And that made you leave?"

"Not exactly," Mr. Dale said. "Lots of people don't like what they see and hear in Drinking Water. I just made the mistake of saying so." He looked in the direction of the little kitchen. "To the wrong person."

"Who?"

"Isaac Richmond...senior."

"The senior?" Idris questioned and his mind went back to the portrait in the parlor. "Did he run you out of town?"

Dale laughed a gapped toothed laugh. "Lord no, son!" he said. "I ran myself out of town. I was afraid of the senior and even now he gives me night frights. The way he'd punish his boys, his servants, his wife! Lord bless that woman she was the only good thing come out of that house. A saint in a woman's clothing." He shook his head. Poor Maude."

Idris was quiet for a long time, letting the old man reflect. "What about Isaac junior?"

"Oh he was a sweet one," Dale said. "You could tell right away that he was spoiled but he had his mother's rich heart. The other three..." He twisted his lips. "Well they did good to name the second one Esau if you understand."

Idris nodded. "Where you still living in Drinking Water when Isaac Junior died?"

"We were," Dale said. "My wife had died about two years before. Bella and I lived there though. Those boys used to give her a terrible time." He lowered his voice. "She doesn't like for me to talk about it.

Idris glanced in the direction of the kitchen. He noticed he didn't smell any food cooking. "She was old enough to remember?"

"She'll never forget," Dale said. "It is as I said. Maude and Isaac were the good ones." He paused. "But if ever there was an angel to suffer on earth and never cry it was Little Catherine. Or to speak more formally Mrs. Sabbath."

"Catherine Sabbath?"

"You knew her?"

"No, sir, but I've met her daughters."

Mr. Dale sat up straighter and a shadow loomed across the floor as Annabelle came out the kitchen. "Did I hear you right, sonny? Did you say daughters?"

"Yes..." Idris said looking between the two of them. "Was that a mistake?"

"Not unless you entertain ghosts," Annabelle said. When Idris still looked confused she went on. "Cathy's baby died in Richmond Wood."

"Well there must have been another," Idris said. "I've seen them for myself."

"God bless Leon Heritage!" Mr. Dale threw up his arms.

"Papa, your lungs!"

"Bless him, bless him bless him!" he laughed. "If I were a few years younger I'd get out of this ol' bed and dance a jig! I thought poor old Johnny had lost two loved ones in one night."

"I take it you left Drinking Water soon after Catherine's death and never went back, correct?" Idris asked and Dale nodded. "Do you know how she died?"

Dale's face grew solemn. "She was one of the few who dared to speak against the Richmonds. I admit I thought it was a very foolish thing for a colored girl to do but then she was all about justice. No one with a lick of sense believes Isaac died in that fire." He looked Idris square in the eye. "Just like Little Catherine didn't freeze to death."

Idris felt a sweat break out in his neck. "You think she met a violent end?" he found himself whispering.

"I was coming back from shopping here in Laurie," Dale said. "That's when I came upon Leon Heritage. Catherine was already dead but the little baby girl was crying and shivering...He told me to leave and that he would handle it."

"And you should be grateful," Annabelle cut in. "If Esau had known you were there he would have blamed you to throw off Mr. Heritage."

Idris leaned back in his chair. "Let me guess," he said. "Leon Heritage challenged the Richmonds."

"Leon was fond of Maude and Maude was fond of Little Catherine. She'd always send gifts to her little girl. Let's see if I can remember this right..." He put his hand over his head.

"Papa means to say that Maude was Mr. Heritage's childhood sweetheart," Annabelle said.

"Ah, yes!" Dale said. "Thank you, Bella dear! Leon wished she hadn't married him but Isaac senior was a charmer. Little Catherine was on her way to the doctor who had been held over here in Laurie. She was worried about her baby girl." He shook his head. "That's all I know about the night she died."

"On her way here?" Idris questioned. "But she was found in the...woods." He looked up. "She cut through Richmond Wood."

Dale nodded. "I liked Leon and Maude and that's why I took such pity on Little Catherine. Sure she was colored but she didn't see the world the way the rest of us do. She was justice incarnate and I am a firm believer that she paid with her life for that."

Idris nodded. "Where can I find Leon Heritage?"

Dale smiled then broke out into a laugh. "In the bed of all debtors. The cemetery. Sabbath Cemetery."

Idris looked down disappointed. Where Isaac was mentioned Little Catherine was sure to follow.

"Ah yes," Mr. Dale suddenly said. "But you can find his son at Heritage Place. He doesn't take visitors but you could try."

Idris thanked them then stood.

"I sure hope you know what you're digging up, sonny," Dale said. "I'd hate to see a young man like yourself go the way of the rest of them. Bella show our kind guest out."

Bella nodded and lead Idris outside onto the porch. She softly pulled the door closed behind them. "You are brave to be curious about this. My father doesn't like to mention her much but Brigit Heritage was a friend of mine." She shook her head. "Once Jude Richmond set his eyes on her I knew it was the end. They have cursed that town and power, wealth and charisma are the magic words."

"What do you—"

"Good night, sir." Annabelle said quickly. "God go with you."

Idris carefully stepped off the porch. He glanced over his shoulder at the frail woman as she stood there in the shadows. He had no idea when he first agreed to this how far reaching the Richmonds were. He secured his messenger bag over his shoulder then hurried back to the coach before he was missed.