Innocent 'til Proven Guilty

by Tricia Andersen

  I made my way back to the hotel, but was stopped at the door by Tony, Vic’s errand boy. “Livvy, Vic needs you to cover a story. There’s been a robbery at Merchants National Bank. You need to go now.”

  I wanted to tell Tony to go away, to let me be. By tomorrow, I would be in Chicago anyway. But deep in my heart, I wanted this one last piece. “Tell Vic I’ll be in the office soon with the story in my hand.”

  Tony scrambled off with my news. I rushed to my room to quickly straighten myself and get my notepad and pencil. Then, I jogged out of the hotel toward the bank.

  As I passed the alleyway, a hand grasped my arm and yanked me off the sidewalk. There was the sudden pain of something striking my head. I felt my knees give beneath me. Everything went dark before I hit the ground.

  * * * *

  Things were hazy as I tried to open my eyes. There was a dull throbbing in my head around the area I had been hit. I tried to take a deep breath. I choked instead. The thick smell of smoke filled my lungs as the sound of crackling filled my ears.

  I forced my eyes open and pushed myself up to sit. My heart thundered in my chest. Someone had left me in what looked like a barn then had set it on fire. The entire wooden structure, from the hay bales to the rafters, was engulfed in flames. The roof creaked and shuddered. It would collapse at any time. My skin burned from the heat.

  I struggled to my feet to search for an escape. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t find one. Dodging the flames didn’t work. I cringed as I was singed.

  Tears started to flow as I slumped to the floor again. Was this the way I was going to die? Burn to death? I coughed violently as I struggled to breathe. Whoever had left me here wanted me to suffer. Could Frankie really be this cruel?

  The sound of faint barking floated over the roar of the fire. It had to be from a farm nearby. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. Weakly, I looked for it. Another bark rang out this time, closer.

  Monty bounced back and forth anxiously at the open double doors of the barn. He kept barking. Timidly, he stepped inside, only to yelp in pain. I sobbed. My brave pup was trying to save me, but couldn’t.

  “Monty, hold on. What did you find, boy?”

  My eyes grew wide. They had to mirror Frankie’s as he found me among the flames.

  “Livvy!”

  I could barely speak between my vicious coughs. “Frankie, go! The roof is about to cave!”

  “Over my dead body am I leaving you here to die!”

  Frankie jogged around the barn, studying it from top to bottom. Then, he suddenly came to a stop. Tugging a couple of boards free and cursing as they burnt him, he opened a hole.

  My eyelids grew heavy as I watched him. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Frankie shielded his face and sprinted into the inferno, not stopping until he was at my side. He scooped me into his arms, cradling me close to his heart. I knew we were free from the barn when the cool, summer night air soothed my scorched flesh.

  Frankie laid me on the grass then hovered over me. I felt a teardrop land on my cheek. My dry eyes told me it wasn’t mine.

  “Livvy, lass. I’m so sorry. I never should have let you go. Please, don’t leave me.”

  I looked up at him through dim eyes. His tear-filled ones told me everything I wanted to know. Frankie was certainly a charmer, but not even the best actor in Hollywood could put on a show like this.

  There was no way possible Frankie O’Carney had killed H.M. Goodrich. He was innocent.

  The barn was nearly burnt to the ground before the fire trucks arrived. The nearby farmers reached us long before any official did. They forced us apart to tend to each of us. Still struggling to get a deep breath, I didn’t put up much of a fight. Frankie, however, fought tooth and nail with them. He was angry to be taken away from me. Wait, not angry. Terrified. Monty must have been, too, because the pup wouldn’t leave my side.

  I looked around as the paramedics checked me over. What had just moments ago been a couple of farmers was now a swarm of law enforcement, firemen, and medics. The sheriff talked briefly with Frankie, who was still agitated. The lawman’s face held concern for the young man, instead of the judgmental glare he normally wore when around Frankie.

  They were only separated when the doctor urged Frankie to come with him. While the red trucks pumped gallons of water on the blaze, Frankie and I were rushed by ambulance to the hospital.

  I stared at the ceiling as I lay in the hospital bed. Seeing the sheriff with Frankie had reminded me of one important thing. We were out of time. In a matter of days, Frankie would be in court, and I had no defense for him. It was time to take my heart out of the equation and think like a reporter.

  The first thing to examine wasn’t the murder itself. The recounts were too conflicting. I needed facts. The only incidents I knew about for sure were the attempts on my own life. As much as I didn’t want to think about them, I knew one thing—whoever had tried to kill me had also murdered H.M. Goodrich.

  I concentrated on the trolley first, examining the moment when I was pushed into the river. I didn’t sleep. Instead, I tore apart each brush with death.

  At first, nothing seemed to stick out. Thinking about dying so many times made my heart race and blurred my thoughts. Then, I remembered something that I hadn’t thought of before. The smell of a heavy, flowery perfume. The flicker of a gaudy, floral fabric. Both were at the soiree when Chuck was murdered. They were there when I was hit on the head in the alley.

  My eyes grew wide as I gasped. I knew who had killed H.M. Goodrich. But how would I get the murderer to confess? Could I crack them open?

  My awestruck gape slowly slid into a grin. I knew how to trap them. I knew they had an obsession, one of the few things in the world they couldn’t have. They couldn’t have it because it belonged to me. And as much as I didn’t want to exploit it, it was the only way to catch the killer.

  To catch the murderer…it would take Frankie.

  Chapter Seven

  Vic had heard about the fire and was at the hospital first thing the next morning to pick up Frankie and me when we were released. I watched Frankie as he stared anxiously out the window of Vic’s sedan. I knew he wanted to get home. He mentioned it often. He was worried about his mother, aunt, and sister. My stomach tied into a guilty knot for what I was about to do.

  “Vic?” I called from the back seat.

  “Yeah, Livvy?”

  “Can you drop us off at the Montrose Hotel, please?”

  Vic shot a look at a confused Frankie. “I thought you both wanted to go to Frankie’s house.”

  “No. The hotel please.”

  I watched Frankie’s face darken at the change of plans. The fact that he wanted to get home to take care of his family made me love him more. But I needed him free, and we were running out of time.

  Frankie nearly growled as he stepped out of Vic’s car then opened my door. He looked away as he offered me his hand. My heart fell as he kept his eyes trained to the sidewalk beneath his feet. I wrapped my hand tight around his and nearly dragged him inside, not stopping until we reached the Iowa Room.

  An evil smile slowly spread across my lips as I found what I expected at the late morning hour. Vivian Goodrich was just rising from her rather large breakfast. A fictional smile graced her lips when she saw me, but disappeared when she noticed that I was holding Frankie’s hand. She sashayed toward us as the smile reappeared.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Vivian cooed to me. “I heard you almost died in that fire.” Her eyes slowly raked over Frankie. “If it hadn’t been for your brave hero, you wouldn’t be here with us, would you?”

  I smirked at her. “I suppose not.”

  Vivian trailed her fingers across Frankie’s chest and bicep. “You’re such a good man, Frankie. There are so many women who would be lucky to have you.” She glared at me coldly before she turned to leave.

  I watched her. I waited. I knew she would turn back to us for one last, hard look at Frankie. He was her
forbidden fruit. Not that she couldn’t have him. She was a widow, and a wealthy one to boot.

  But he didn’t want her.

  “Livvy, can we go? I need to get to my family. They have to be worried sick about us,” Frankie muttered in protest.

  “Just wait,” I breathed as I studied Vivian.

  Finally, it happened. Vivian slowly, sensually, turned back one last time to gaze at her pet. I didn’t waste a moment, knotting my fingers in Frankie’s shirt as I drew him to me. Mustering all my courage, I parted his lips with mine.

  I could hear the rush of whispers all around me at my inappropriate actions. My mother would be mortified to see me throw myself at a man like this. I was distracted from my own self-loathing as Frankie melted into my kiss, drawing me tight to him as he kissed me back. I nearly missed what I was waiting for, what I had sacrificed my reputation to hear.

  “Get your hands off him, you hussy!” Vivian screeched. “He belongs to me!”

  A collective gasp filled the Iowa Room at Vivian’s outburst. Our kiss broke apart just in time for me to see her storming back to us. She was nearly spitting bullets, and her skirt was whipping around her legs like a flour towel in a tornado.

  She parted us as she poked a pudgy finger into my chest viciously. “He belongs to me,” she seethed.

  “Really?” I countered. “What makes you think so?”

  “Do you know what I’ve had to do to make him mine? Do you?”

  I smiled sweetly. I was hoping against hope it was enough to bait her. “Enlighten me, Vivian. What did you do?”

  “I’ve been watching Frankie for years, ever since he and his family moved here from New York City. I’ve watched him grow up and turn into the magnificent man he is. I’ve waited while he tramped around town with all those little floozies. Then, when the time was right, when everything was perfect, you showed up.”

  “Must have made you mad,” I cooed.

  Vivian laughed. “Mad? No. There’s only one way to get rid of a pest. Exterminate it. Except you just wouldn’t die. I shoved you in front of that trolley. Frankie saved you. I pushed you into the river. Frankie saved you again. I get you to my soiree away from your hero so I can kill you. That fool Chuck drinks the champagne I poisoned.

  “Finally, I have my driver club you in that alley and put you in that barn so that I can set it on fire. What happens? Your mutt leads Frankie to you to save you again. I ruined a perfectly good dress setting that blaze.”

  The buzz of voices in the Iowa Room grew louder as every occupant in the dining room focused on Vivian and me. I glanced up quickly at Frankie, seeing his ice blue eyes grow wide at Vivian’s confession. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the hotel manager whispering urgent instructions to a waiter. The sheriff would soon be on his way. I just had to get the final declaration.

  “Interesting. But how were you going to make Frankie yours with good ol’ H.M. around? I’m going to guess he wouldn’t be too accepting of a lover.”

  “Are you stupid, little girl? I killed him, plain and simple. I wanted Frankie to do it. I planned to seduce him into my bed like I had my gardener, before he set fire to my house.” Vivian glared over her shoulder at Frankie. “But my little tramp had morals I didn’t anticipate. So, when he ran I turned the gun on my dear husband.”

  “And pinned it on Frankie.”

  “Who had the money and influence to change the judge’s mind? I did. And once he was free, Frankie would be indebted to me. He would do whatever I wanted.” Vivian poked her finger into my chest again, backing me into a table. “Except you came along. I should just kill you right here.”

  I didn’t notice the steak knife she grabbed off the table until it was in the air and plunging toward me. I felt the tip scratch my skin then stop. Frankie stood behind Vivian, his hand clenched tight around the wrist of the hand holding the knife. His other arm was tight around her waist. There was a slight red tint on the edge of the blade.

  I looked down to my breast to see the tear in the fabric slightly blossoming crimson.

  “Frankie, you know I love you,” Vivian begged. “I did this all for you.”

  “Save it,” he spat.

  The Iowa Room was suddenly filled with the sheriff and his men. Several patrons flocked to me to check on my wound while Frankie turned Vivian over to the sheriff. Officers took statements of the confession from those that had been there. I looked around frantically in the chaos for Frankie. It was over. He was free. I couldn’t wait to be in his arms for a victorious kiss.

  Except there was already someone there. A very pretty blonde in a perky, floral print sundress was wrapped around him with her lips pressed tight against his.

  I couldn’t stop the tears that filled my eyes. So, that’s why Frankie had been interested in me. He had needed me to free him, and now that I had, he was done with me.

  I felt my world collapse as I slipped through the crowd and sprinted to my room, locking myself inside.

  * * * *

  “All that glitters isn’t always gold, Livvy Randall. Remember that.”

  I tried to shake Pa’s words from my mind as I stared out the window of the passenger car. Families were telling their loved ones goodbye. Businessmen were rushing across the platform toward the train to get a choice spot. All I wanted was to hear the whistle blow, to feel the wheels turn, and to watch Cedar Rapids drift away forever.

  I rubbed my tired, sore eyes. I had cried all night as I packed. I had been at the station the moment it had opened to purchase my ticket for Chicago. I had been lucky that the first train out of town was headed there. As soon as they had let me, I had crawled into the car and found my seat.

  I tried to forget the scene in the Iowa Room, of Frankie in another woman’s arms. He had told me he loved me. He had told me he couldn’t live without me. He’d had me believing his lies hook, line, and sinker. I had been such a fool. Ma would tell me to learn from this and move on. The only problem was that Frankie O’Carney had stolen my heart. And I didn’t think I would ever get it back again.

  I shook my head, bringing puzzling looks from the passengers closest to me. My plan had been so simple—go to Chicago, get hired on at the Chicago Tribune, and then make a name for myself. The best laid plans of mice and men.

  Instead of following my dream, I had followed a sinfully handsome Irishman into a broken heart. Yes, I had written some of my best work at The Gazette. And after my brief meeting with Vic this morning, he had promised to put in a good word with the folks at the Tribune. But after Frankie, nothing would be the same.

  When the conductor announced our departure, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was ready to get out of this cursed city. I slipped my shoes off and settled into my seat.

  The piercing noise of metal striking metal filled the train. I cringed with every echoing ping. Outside, every rail worker in the vicinity raced to the engine with lawmen following on their heels. There was loud shouting. I fought to keep myself in my seat, but the investigative reporter in me won the battle. I slipped my shoes on my feet and hurried outside to the commotion.

  I froze in my tracks at the scene.

  Frankie stood at the nose of the engine, brandishing a lead pipe in his hands. He searched the crowd around him with wild eyes. A few officers had pistols drawn. Frankie growled then swung, striking the wheel of the train.

  I pushed my way through the men. “Frankie, what are you doing?” I pleaded.

  His eyes focused on me. I could see them glisten with tears. He swung at the wheel again, the irritating clang ringing through the rail yard. “I’m trying to break this bloody thing.”

  “Why?”

  Frankie heaved a sigh as he threw the pipe on the ground. He clenched his hands to his hips. “So it can’t take you to Chicago.”

  “You don’t need me. You’re free.”

  He slowly looked at me. “Of course, I need you. I love you.”

  “But your girlfriend…”

  “The girl in the Iowa Room last night
? We broke up weeks before you arrived. She assumed we could get back together now that my name is cleared. When I set her straight, you were gone.”

  Frankie strode to me. He wrapped his hands gently around my arms. “I know your dreams are in Chicago. I know that’s where you belong. It’s selfish for me to ask you to stay.” He closed his eyes, a lone tear escaping the corner of one. “Chicago doesn’t have everything. It doesn’t have me.”

  Without a thought, I brushed the tear away.

  “Don’t leave me,” he breathed. “Please. I can’t be without you.”

  I gazed at him as he slowly opened his eyes. All his motives to keep me in Cedar Rapids were gone. There was no reason for me to stay. In his eyes, I could see the truth. I could see the promise of forever. I could see love. The investigative reporter in me stepped aside and let my heart take over.

  I stood on my tiptoes to press my lips to his. He wrapped his arms tight around me to draw me to him as he melted into my kiss.

  We were still standing there kissing long after the train whistle had faded away.

  * * * *

  Three years later

  My fingers skipped across the keys of my typewriter happily. This story was easily the best in the paper and well ahead of deadline for the evening distribution. I smiled at my title—News Editor. A spot well deserved, if I did say so myself. I tugged the paper free then gently pushed my chair away from my desk. I stood carefully and made my way across the newsroom.

  Vic shook his head at me as I approached. “Livvy, I’m about to ground you to the Society page.”

  I laid my hand on my rounded stomach. “I doubt it, Vic. I’m the best reporter you’ve got, and I’m still four months from delivery.”

  “I need you to be running to news stories, not waddling.”

  “I’m not waddling, and I won’t be until the day I deliver.” I dropped the story on his desk with a grin, picked up my purse, and headed to the door. I could still hear him grumbling as I left.