by DiAnn Mills
Mimi attempted a smile. “You run along and get your things done. I’m all right, really I am. When you see Jenny, please tell her I need help. That should get her here in no time at all. You know—”
“What?”
“Martha was very upset last night. She must have liked Ellen more than we thought.”
Or she knows who attacked her. “I’m glad she helped you.” He squeezed her shoulders again. “I’m sure when Jenny hears about Ellen, she’ll be fussin’ with Frank about who’ll take care of her.”
“I plan to take some breakfast up to him and the reverend.”
“Good idea. Last night was a close call—too close.” Gently grasping her arms, he pushed her back and peered into her deep blue eyes. “You are exhausted. Once Jenny is here, I’d like for you to lie down. Can’t have my best girl sick.”
She pursed her lips stubbornly. “Maybe this afternoon. Right now I’m too upset to sleep.”
“I understand.” He turned to leave, then whirled around. “If Ellen wakens while I’m gone, let her have only a little water. And remember, don’t let her talk. Frank knows that too. I don’t know how much damage has been done to her throat. She may not be able to speak for a good while, so we’ll need to take one step at a time.”
His housekeeper patted his hand. “Go ahead now. Time’s a wasting.”
He headed back to his office, snatched up a folder of papers, and stepped out into the morning air. Deep in thought over the happenings of the night, he picked up his pace and hurried down the long stone walkway from his home.
The attacker couldn’t be anyone other than Turner, and Grant believed the journal proved his theory. Turner had to be the one who frightened Mrs. Lewis into a heart attack and probably instigated the fire—although he couldn’t piece together why. Without a doubt, Turner wanted his money and would do whatever was necessary to get it. Thoughts of Jenny’s safety lay heavily on Grant’s mind. She might be Turner’s next target.
Once he reached the street, Grant pulled out his pocket watch: seven o’clock. Jenny might not be out and about, but this was important. She’d be shattered with the news and most likely terrified.
He considered Turner’s all-too-obvious announcement of his departure from Kahlerville. It must have been designed to throw off any suspicion of involvement in the crimes he planned to commit. I know it’s him. According to the journal, he has motive plus a history of violence.
He could hear Morgan’s words now. “A man is innocent until proven guilty.” Grant knew he wanted to blame someone and have the matter cleared up. In fact, he wanted that very thing today. He felt secure in his accusations, but still he needed definite proof. He hoped that between Ben and Morgan they could end Turner’s reign of lawlessness.
Grabbing the doorknob to Ben’s office, he took a deep breath to calm his troubled mind.
“Morning, Grant.” Ben yawned, his dark hair uncombed. He must not have gone home. “How’s Ellen?”
“Much better. She’ll make it. I’ll send word as soon as she’s able to let us know the details of what happened. I’m in a rush this morning, but I wondered about the bullet from Frank and Ellen’s dog.”
Ben pointed to the bullet on his desk. “Looks like it came from a small revolver, probably a Remington. The same type of gun that killed Howe.”
Grant glanced down at the unopened mail and watched Ben thumb through it.
“I’ve been looking for some reason to arrest Turner for days,” Ben said. “Now that he’s gone, the information I need is probably right here.” Using his pocketknife, he carefully slit an envelope and pulled out its contents. “Let me skim over this first.” Ben breathed deeply while absorbing the words before him. “Turner’s a professional gambler all right, and he uses an assortment of names—one of which is Jacobs. He’s wanted for two counts of embezzlement and three killings.”
“Do you really think he left town?”
“Just covering his tracks. My guess is he’s hiding out. Still looking for his money. In any event, I’ll swear in a couple of deputies and start looking for him. You and I both know he’s behind the crimes that have hit our town.” He raised a brow. “Have you talked to Jenny?”
“I’m on my way. I’m taking her back to my house if I have to carry her screaming through town.”
“She’s been afraid of Turner, and rightfully so.”
“I figured out where the money is. Later on today I’ll get Morgan to check out my findings. At least it’s in a place where Turner can’t get his hands on it.”
“I’ll send a wire to Houston, Dallas, Austin, and San Anton’ in case he leaves town for a few days. I’ll also alert the railroad. Anything you want me to tell Morgan? I’m on my way there now.”
“He doesn’t know about Ellen. And would you ask him to contact the First National Bank of Houston? See if there’s an account under Jenny’s or Jessica’s name.”
“Sure thing.”
Should Grant reveal his suspicions about Martha and Lester somehow being involved with Turner? Not yet. He didn’t have proof. He reached for the door. “Thanks, Ben. I need to get going. Like I said before, I’ll send word about Ellen soon.” He frowned. “Turner had better not show his face in town.”
“What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m beginning to have more apprehensions than an old spinster. I’m wondering if we shouldn’t tell anyone that Ellen survived the attack.”
“I’d been thinking that very thing.”
“I’ll tell those at my house when I get back not to let anyone know that Ellen survived the attack.” He shook Ben’s hand and left the office.
Stepping out onto the street, he noticed how tired he truly felt—not necessarily physically spent, because fatigue walked hand in hand with his profession, but mentally worn. He wanted Turner stopped.
If Jenny refused to move into the parsonage, then he’d propose. They could marry today, and he’d make sure Turner never laid his filthy hands on her.
Once inside the boardinghouse, Grant stopped at the front desk to greet Harold.
“I’d like to see Jenny,” Grant said.
“Something tells me that you haven’t heard the news.” Harold peered down his long, pointed nose. “Miss Martin checked out early this morning. She left on the early train to head back home. She asked me to hand out a few letters. Here’s one for you. Oh, here, take them all.”
Stunned, Grant mumbled a thank you, not really sure if he wanted to read the letter there or wait for the privacy of his home. Shock and concern paralyzed his senses. An urgency overcame any need to be alone. He wanted to know what the letter said—now.
Grant took the missive and seated himself at a single table in the dining room. Staring at it for a brief moment, he carefully lifted the flap.
His gaze consumed every word. He simply refused to believe Jenny had gone back to Cleveland and purposely not left an address for him to find her. He read her heartfelt words of love for his family, Ellen, and most of all for the Lord. A mixture of anger and helplessness wove through his weary heart. He read on.
She didn’t have to apologize to him. Neither did she have to leave town without so much as a word. Now he understood why Rebecca had seen Jenny crying. She’d already decided to leave and masked her feelings by saying she had dirt in her eyes.
His reading took in the most important reason for her leaving Kahlerville. He reread it to make certain he hadn’t been mistaken. She left here because she’s in love with me? Bewilderment and frustration captured his mind. Why hadn’t he told her how he felt sooner? His stupidity might have cost him a dear price.
His thoughts drifted back to moments, glances, and words left unspoken. What a fool he’d been. He thought her kindness and gentle ways were from the Lord beginning to direct her life. Those endearing traits were heaven-sent, but the love she spread around her had been intended for him in a very special way.
How could I have been so blind? Address or no address, he’d find her a
nd bring her right back where she belonged. God had given him a woman to love, and he didn’t intend for her to get away.
Suddenly, Grant realized the other implication of Jenny’s letter. Did Turner know she’d left Kahlerville? Had he still been watching her? Instantly on his feet, Grant rushed out of the boardinghouse and back to Ben’s office.
Jenny had no inkling of the possible danger.
Chapter 33
Mimi opened the front door just as Grant reached for the outside knob. “Ellen’s awake. It’s a miracle, a real miracle. She tried to talk, but Frank stopped her just like you said. Then he asked if she knew who attacked her.”
Grant’s heart raced. “And she does?”
“Yes.” She blinked, no doubt to keep her wavering tears from drowning their conversation. “So I’ve been sitting with her while Frank went to fetch Ben. The reverend headed back to the parsonage before Frank left. I rushed downstairs when I saw you coming up the front walk.”
Grant glanced at the staircase. “Praise God. Maybe now we can get to the bottom of this.” He started up the stairs, then turned heel. “Mimi, how is Rebecca faring in all of this?”
She smiled faintly. “Martha has kept her busy playing with the boys.”
“Good. I don’t want her overhearing anything that might scare her. Ben doesn’t want anyone to know that Ellen survived until we find out who attacked her.”
“I’ll do my part and tell the others. Is Jenny on her way?”
He stopped midway. “No . . . she’s gone.”
“I don’t understand.” Mimi’s face drained of color. “Where is she?”
He hesitated to reply and, in his indecision, gripped the handrail. The magnitude of the troubles facing him and those he loved mounted with each fleeting moment, and his normal, orderly pattern of handling matters threatened to crumble. With one hand he squeezed the hand of God, and with the other he shielded himself and those he loved from the grim occurrences around them. Breathing a quick prayer for strength and trust, he viewed the confusion and shock written clearly across Mimi’s face. It took only seconds to reach her.
“Jenny boarded the train this morning for Ohio.”
“Why? Did you two quarrel? She never said a word about leaving. No good-bye. Nothing.”
He shook his head, torn between the needs of his patient and those of his housekeeper. “She wrote several letters. One is addressed to you.” He reached inside his jacket. “All I know is what she wrote in mine.”
Her gaze darted nervously about. “Did she say why she left? Sorry, but I have to ask. I mean, I know you need to see Ellen.”
He paused. “Please keep this between us, and we’ll talk when Ben leaves. Jenny is gone because she feels responsible for all the things that have happened in Kahlerville and because she’s in love with me.”
Grant reached out to take her hand. “It’s not over yet, so don’t you cry. I’m not letting Jenny get away. I know God intended for us to be together, and I’m going to find a way to overcome that stubborn resolve of hers.” He released the older woman and watched her dab her eyes.
“Go take care of Ellen.” She shooed him away with her soggy handkerchief. “I need to have another good cry and pray God’s protection over Ellen, Jenny, and . . . and everyone else.”
He bent over and kissed her cheek. “Ben always says that God’s in control. He knows the outcome, and we simply need to have faith.”
With an encouraging smile, he left Mimi to see his patient. Once inside the room where Ellen lay with her eyes closed, Grant viewed the purplish-red and blue-black bruises extending from above her eyes to the visible area of her neck. Anger soared with the realization that this dear lady had suffered needlessly at the hands of a brutal man.
“Ellen,” Grant whispered, but she didn’t stir. He sat down beside her and decided to wait a few minutes until she awakened. Had it been only a few hours ago that he thought Frank carried a dead woman? Ellen’s breathing had been so shallow, so faint that he had to feel her chest for its rise and fall.
With the night behind all of them and the knowledge of Jenny heading back to Ohio, Grant desperately needed to know for sure who attacked Ellen. She opened her swollen eyes through narrowed slits and stared at the empty chair where her husband had sat. Her questioning gaze flew to Grant.
“He went to fetch Ben,” Grant said. “They’ll be here shortly.”
Something terrifying captured her attention, and she tried to raise herself from the bed.
Grant eased her back onto the pillow. When she could not be consoled, he produced paper and pen. “Can you write it down? I need to know what’s upsetting you.”
She reached for the pen with shaking fingers, and Grant assisted her in scribbling one word onto the paper. It read “Jenny.”
Outwardly, he kept his composure, but his mind and heart weighed heavily with fear. “Jenny left on the morning train back to Ohio,” Grant said.
Heavy footsteps and the voices of Ben and Frank came up the stairs. Grant didn’t turn to greet either man but kept his attention on his patient. “Is Jenny in danger?”
A fresh array of tears streamed down her face. Instantly, Frank bent to his knees at her side. A smile of understanding passed between them.
“Ellen,” Grant said. “Did Aubrey Turner do this to you?”
Her anxious gaze flew from Frank to Grant and back again.
Frank lightly brushed the strawberry blond hair from her face. “Give Grant and Ben the answer, sweetheart. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I’m right here.”
Grant marveled at the big man’s infinite tenderness. He ached for Jenny. Dear God, she has to be safe.
Finally, Ellen nodded affirmatively. Pain etched her features, and Frank lifted her hand into his.
“Was he looking for something?” Ben said.
Ellen wordlessly agreed.
“Money?” Ben leaned in next to his brother. The animosity between the two men about Ben’s questioning had vanished. But that was the way with brothers.
Ellen nodded.
“Did he find what he was looking for?”
She shook her head no.
“Did he plan to go after Jenny?”
She nodded and blinked back the tears.
Grant clenched his fists to dispel the rising anger. “We need to let Ellen rest.” He exited the room with Ben to speak privately downstairs. More than enough evidence had been obtained to issue a warrant for Turner’s arrest, but Grant wanted more. He wanted the man behind bars now.
Ben coughed—that nagging perpetual cough. “I’ll wire all the towns where the train is scheduled to stop and ask them to be on the lookout for a man fitting Turner’s description. I’ll also ask them to detain Jenny until one of us can talk to her.”
“That sounds better. In the meantime, I’m going after her myself. I simply can’t stay here and do nothing.”
“What about tending to Ellen?” Frank said.
“I’ve already sent word to a doctor in Montgomery County to send a nurse to help Mimi. Ellen’s going to be all right, but she needs good medical care. In the meantime, I’m sure Mimi and my mother will sit with her.”
Ben frowned. “Tell you what—I’ll swear in Frank and make him a deputy until this mess is cleared up. That way he can protect the women and children here while you’re gone.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel better. I want that murdering thief found before someone else is hurt.” He could say no more. Turner had been successful in completing two of his attacks, proof of his clever planning. What else was he capable of doing?
“Ben, let’s talk downstairs,” Grant said. “I have a few things I want to tell you about Turner.”
The two men slowly made their way down the stairs.
“Grant, Ben, I need to talk to you.” Martha met them at the bottom of the stairs. “For once in my life, I’m going to do the decent thing.”
“We can talk in my office,” Grant said. Could he be right about Turner on this point, t
oo? He hoped not, but it made sense.
“Fine. Mimi is watching the children. This is going to be hard, very hard, but I have to tell you about Aubrey Turner. I really think he’s the one who hurt Ellen.”
Grant gestured her into his office, and she sat stiffly. He and Ben exchanged glances. Curious. Hopeful. But could Martha be trusted to tell the truth about anything?
“What is it, Martha? I’m hoping you know something about Turner that can help me throw him in jail,” Ben said.
“I do. That and more.” She lifted her chin. “Turner is a professional gambler. He boasted about a colorful past, and from what he’s done here, I’m sure it’s true. He learned from one of my girls about Lester and me.” She peered up at Grant, then at Ben. “I trust you to keep this confidential, but Lester is the father of my sons.
“Grant, you were nearly right that day. All the time Turner played up to me and the girls, he was scheming. He took the information and went to Lester’s wife with the truth. You see, it’s her money invested in the bank, and when she found out her money was supporting the boys, well, she didn’t take it well. My sons look just like Lester, so there wasn’t any point in him denying who they belonged to. Turner threatened to take the news to the whole town unless the three of us agreed to help him find the money that Jessica supposedly stole from him. Sylvia Hillman is not a bad person. She could have said a lot of things to me but didn’t. Anyway, we were all forced to do whatever Turner demanded.”
She glanced down at her folded hands in her lap. “Sylvia was supposed to spread rumors about Ellen and Jenny—anything to discredit them. I did my job that day in the general store. Lester searched through all the records at his bank to find the money, but he found nothing.”
“Did Turner set the fire?”
“I think so. When I refused to set up another card game, he said he’d get even.”
“Why did you refuse him?” Ben said. “You have card games there all the time.”
“He cheats, and I didn’t want someone else killed.” She stiffened. “I do have my own morals. Looks to me like Jenny Martin is in danger, especially if what happened to Ellen is any indication of what Turner will do next. I never learned how much money was at stake, but it must be a tidy sum.” She stood from her chair. “I’ve said my piece. In the next few days, I’m leaving Kahlerville with my sons. No point in staying here any longer.”
