Foxy Statehood Hens and Murder Most Fowl

by Jackie King, Gui

  Harriet held up her hand. “Don’t fuss. Pour me a glass of wine to warm me, and then I’ll share my thoughts.”

  Radine brought the sherry and Harriet drank it down in one gulp, and then she gasped. “My goodness gracious!” Harriet placed her hand over her heart. “I think maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that wine so quickly.”

  “Don’t you worry none about that. A little wine is good for a body, even the Bible says so. I’ll bring you another if you want.”

  “Mercy no, what I want is to make an afternoon call on Charlotte Hightower.”

  * * *

  Because the Hightowers had agreed to stay at the Hotel until their mansion was built, Uncle Richard had converted two adjoining bedrooms into a suite for them. Charlotte answered Harriet’s knock and her smile included both women.

  “What a lovely surprise.” Charlotte’s smile widened.

  Radine was impressed both by the woman’s beauty and by the elegance of her dress. Harriet always looked like a bandbox, dressed in her stylish skirts and shirtwaists, but this fairylike creature wore a silk tea dress, earbobs, and even a ring on her right hand with a stone the size of a robin’s egg. Imagine going around the house dressed so fancy, and with nothing to do but sip tea from fancy cups. The young frontier girl sighed.

  “Forgive us if we’ve called at an inconvenient time,” Harriet said, and Radine was proud of her friend’s gracious manner. “But we very much need to talk to you.”

  “Of course, it’s not inconvenient at all. I’m delighted. Please come in, Cook just sent up a pot of coffee, and there’s plenty for the three of us.” Charlotte gestured toward a small settee. A low wooden chest sat in front for a table, with two chairs facing, one delicate and one sturdy. “Why don’t the two of you sit on the sofa? This small empire chair is where I always sit. Mortimer bought it especially for me,” Charlotte said.

  “This is a real pretty room you’ve fixed up.” The remark slipped out. Radine had intended to let Harriet do most of the talking since these two were ladies and would have more in common. But Charlotte beamed at her as if she’d said just the right thing, so Radine smiled back and sat on the small sofa beside Harriet.

  “Thank you very much. I’ve worked hard to provide Mortimer with the home life that he so richly deserves.” Charlotte’s eyes glowed when she spoke her husband’s name, and Radine’s heart sank to the soles of her worn lace-up shoes.

  She adores the man, Radine thought, feeling her heart twist. She was just beginning to learn how a man could turn a woman’s insides to butter. That was the way she felt when Micah smiled at her. Mortimer Hightower didn’t deserve such devotion. He was a murderer and Radine hoped that he’d swing from a rope to pay for killing two innocent women. A moment ago she could have opened the trapdoor herself and let him drop. Now she knew such a thing would break Charlotte’s heart. She shot a desperate glance at Harriet who looked equally troubled.

  “Charlotte, dear,” Harriet said. “I don’t think the two of us have ever discussed our younger days. How long did you know Mortimer before the two of you wed?”

  “No time at all. Mortimer says that I stole his heart when first he laid eyes on me.” Charlotte smiled and blushed. “I must say he certainly swept me off my feet.” Their hostess reached for the pot and poured steaming black liquid into fragile cups.

  “So you didn’t know one another very long before you married?” Harriet asked.

  “There was no need.” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled. “The first time I looked at Mortimer he made me feel safe. When he asked me to marry him I didn’t even need to think. I just said yes. We were married the next day.”

  “The next day?” Harriet said.

  “Yes,” Charlotte replied with a conspiratorial smile. “Like you and Zachariah, it was love at first sight. That’s why I was so happy when you married in the same manner. Why waste time with an engagement when you both know that you’ve met the person you were destined to marry? Isn’t it wonderful when that happens?”

  Harriet looked bewildered, as if she had no idea how to reply, so Radine decided to butt in. She knew she was rushing in where angels fear to tread, but she felt it urgent to move on before Hightower came home from the bank.

  “One reason we came by, Charlotte, was to talk about the awful thing that happened at the picnic. It upset us real bad, and me and Harriet wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Charlotte blinked, as if shocked by the change of subject. It was a minute before she answered.

  “Yes, it was dreadful, but I was perfectly safe. Mortimer was with me every minute. He never moved from my side the entire afternoon.”

  Radine frowned. It was Charlotte who had found Felicity in the creek, and Mortimer was nowhere in sight. He had had come along later to assist her as she stepped to dry ground. Was the woman lying to cover for her husband?

  “But I saw you go to the outhouse.” It was a lie, of course. She had been so busy enjoying Micah’s company that she hadn’t eyes for anyone else. But she knew her trap had snared its game when red streaked up Charlotte’s porcelain neck.

  “Well, of course I didn’t mean every minute.” Charlotte turned to Harriet. “I’m sure that you observed that my husband and I were always together.”

  “I’m sorry, but when I last saw Mr. Hightower he was talking to Zachariah, then I grew drowsy and closed my eyes.”

  “Of course, I remember now. That was when I visited the necessary room as Radine said.” Charlotte sipped her coffee and then frowned. “I do declare I’m forgetting my manners. This coffee has turned cool and isn’t fit to drink. Let me fetch the dandelion wine I made from my mother’s recipe and we’ll drink that instead.” She gathered the cups, rose gracefully and glided out of the room, taking the coffee set with her.

  Radine sighed and wished she could move in that same effortless manner. It was as if Charlotte didn’t actually walk, but floated across the room. Perhaps that was the mark of a lady, and sadly, one that she would never have. She started to mention this to Harriet, but her friend’s brow was puckered as if she were deep in thought, so Radine kept quiet. Anyway, their hostess might overhear, and that would have been downright embarrassing. She turned her mind to consider more important problems.

  Charlotte would never believe that her husband could be anything other than perfect. Banker Hightower was a powerful presence in Guthrie politics. An important man like him would never be convicted of murdering two soiled doves. She glanced at Harriet. Theirs was a hopeless task.

  Their hostess glided back into the room carrying an ornate silver tray. A crystal decanter containing amber liquid and matching stemmed glasses sat on it alongside a dish covered with a silver dome. Cookies, Radine supposed. Charlotte set the tray on the table, and without warning icy fingers of fear slid down Radine’s spine and filled her heart with dread. The Bad Feeling clutched her whole being with such intensity that she gasped. The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

  Chapter 11

  Harriet heard Radine gasp and saw all color drain from the girl’s face. In the same instant, she noticed that Charlotte also seemed to be studying Radine’s shocked reaction.

  “Are you all right?” Harriet asked.

  “Yes, of course.” Radine spoke in a hoarse voice and Harriet didn’t believe her.

  “You seem unwell, perhaps we should leave and return later.” She glanced at Charlotte, who had a most peculiar expression on her face.

  “Perhaps a glass of wine might help,” Charlotte said.

  “No! No wine. We got to go.” Radine eyes were those of a rabbit snared in a trap.

  “My dandelion wine will make you feel better immediately.” Charlotte filled a small goblet as she spoke. “It’s a wonderful tonic and elixir. I always give a glass to Mortimer when he has indigestion.”

  “No.” Radine rose shakily to her feet. “I want to go.”

  Harriet realized that her own mouth was gaping open and she closed it. Radine, usually in possession of
herself, was now totally unstrung. Her hands even shook.

  Then the truth struck Harriet. Radine was having one of her premonitions. A very bad one. The girl stared at the glass of wine Charlotte was offering as if it were a rattlesnake ready to strike. She had no idea what was going on in her friend’s mind, but she knew that Radine was no coward, and decided to tell a little white lie in her behalf.

  “You’ll have to forgive Radine. She was raised a hard-shell Baptist and never drinks wine. The very thought of taking spirits distresses her.”

  “Surely she will take a small amount for medicinal purposes. Even the most devout do that.”

  Some memory struggled at the back of Harriet’s mind. Something very important. But what was it? She tried to remember and failed. Radine’s color was starting to return, confirming to her that her friend wasn’t physically ill, but frightened. The two of them needed to compare thoughts. She looked at Charlotte and spoke with a firm resolve.

  “I believe that Radine should lie down. We’ll return when she’s feeling better.” She rose to her feet as she spoke.

  Charlotte set the filled glass back on the tray, lifted the silver dome and removed a double-barreled silver derringer which she then aimed at Harriet’s heart.

  A numbing shock swept through Harriet. Had Charlotte gone mad? Had love for her husband driven her to threaten two of her friends?

  “Dearest Charlotte, you are making a dreadful mistake. Your husband has murdered two women. There’s no way that you can protect him from the consequences of his actions. You’ll only draw yourself into the same evil web.”

  “Why couldn’t you have left my affairs alone, Harriet?” Charlotte’s eyes filled with real tears. “You and I have so much in common. I was beginning to love you like a sister—but I love Mortimer more.”

  “Charlotte,” Harriet pleaded. “I do understand. I love my husband with that same passion, but I wouldn’t shoot innocent friends even for him.”

  “Step out into the hall this instant or I’ll shoot you both where you stand.” Charlotte’s face seemed set in granite.

  Harriet glanced desperately at Radine who looked as if she were trying to telegraph a silent message to her. “Radine will help you, too,” she said.

  But Charlotte shook her head. “Step through the door and walk down the hall toward the underground tunnel entrance. I believe you know where it’s hidden.”

  Harriet couldn’t believe what was happening. The look on Charlotte’s face caused blood to freeze in her veins.

  Suddenly the door opened and Mortimer Hightower stepped into the room, and Harriet knew that unless she and Radine kept their heads, they would both die. Time stood still. Harriet used all of the skills she had learned over a lifetime of living with a difficult father to keep her face from changing expression. The words she spoke tasted bitter on her tongue. But she didn’t want to die.

  “The deaths so far have been those of dance hall girls. I don’t want a scandal in my place of business. After the territory is admitted into the Union, Guthrie is sure to be the State Capital. Like most women in this town, I’m very ambitious for my husband. If it becomes known that a hotel guest murdered a woman right in his own suite, the scandal could ruin Zachariah’s chances in state politics.” She knew there was enough truth in her words to make the statement believable. At least to Mortimer. She held her breath and waited for him to speak.

  “Charlotte?” he said finally.

  The gun in Charlotte’s hand wavered momentarily and then steadied. “My darling, these women have gone mad. I’m only protecting myself as you told me to do when you gave me this gun.”

  “What has happened here?” Hightower shifted his gaze to Harriet. “What have you done to Charlotte, Mrs. Garrett?”

  Radine whispered. “She done it. He don’t know nothin’ about it.” But the room was silent and her whisper carried. The truth hit Harriet with bitter force. Too late, she realized that her affection for Charlotte had blinded her to the truth.

  Radine turned to face Mortimer. “Charlotte feared you wouldn’t love her no more if you found out that she was once a dance hall girl. But I think she’s wrong. I think you’d have been man enough to overlook her past and know she was only trying to survive in a hard world. A blind person could see that you’re as besotted with her as she is with you.”

  Understanding spread over Mortimer’s face and he looked down at his wife. “Oh, my poor darling.” He took the pistol from Charlotte’s hand, slipped it into his pocket and then gathered her into his arms. “This is all my fault. I already knew about your past. I learned before we were married. I didn’t mention it because I was waiting for you to trust me enough to tell me yourself.”

  “You knew?” Charlotte gasped. “What have I done? I murdered a woman for no reason. God help me.”

  “You murdered two women,” Radine corrected and Harriet wished that her friend would sometimes hold her tongue.

  “No! Ida Mae’s injury was caused by an accident. I would never have hurt Ida Mae deliberately. There was a horrible accident and she was hurt, but she walked out of our suite by herself. She collapsed later in the tunnel.” Charlotte’s face was so white that Harriet feared the woman might faint.

  Mortimer swept up his wife into his arms and carried her to the sofa. He lowered her gently onto its cushions and then sat beside her. “My love, you must tell me exactly what happened.”

  Harriet took a deep breath, she and Radine seemed to be out of danger. She exchanged a look with Radine, and without speaking the two of them moved as one to sit facing the Hightowers.

  “All is not lost. I can sort out this problem,” Mortimer said to his wife. “Ida Mae died by accident, and you, my dearest Charlotte, must have been out of your mind if you hurt someone else. I suppose it was the girl at the creek?”

  Charlotte looked up into her husband’s face with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry my darling. I should have told you the truth from the beginning. Radine is right, I feared you would stop loving me if you knew.

  “Nothing could make me stop loving you. How could you think such a thing?” Mortimer’s eyes caressed his wife’s face with such tenderness that tears stung Harriet’s eyes.

  “Everything else I told you was true, I just didn’t want you to ever learn how I had earned my living. My father was a schoolmaster in Kansas City and I was educated in the classics and in social manners. We were poor but respected and accepted everywhere in society. When Papa died he left no savings, and I had no family to help me. I was starving.” She dropped her gaze, as if no longer able to look into her husband’s eyes. “The only job I could find was in the dance hall. That’s where I met Ida Mae and Felicity.”

  Charlotte swallowed hard and looked again at Mortimer. “Then by chance I met you at the Mercantile, and everything changed.” Crystal tears slid down Charlotte’s cheeks and dripped onto her lavender tea gown.

  Mortimer leaned forward to place a tender kiss on his wife’s temple. “I’m so very sorry that you had to endure such a harsh existence.”

  “Sometimes I didn’t even want to live. Ida Mae was my only true friend. During my lowest moments she would tell me that even dance hall girls sometimes married wonderful men and escaped to live happy lives. I thought her words were a fairy tale to cheer me, and then the fantasy came true. We married and I came to Guthrie as your wife. Suddenly my life was perfect.”

  Charlotte’s voice broke and tears ran down her cheeks. Mortimer took a white linen handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently blotted her face. “I know that talking about this is hard, dearest Charlotte. I wish I didn’t have to ask you to continue, but I must.”

  Charlotte nodded and took a deep breath. “When Ida Mae and Felicity came to town, I was terrified that all was lost. I knew that Ida Mae would keep my secret, but Felicity was cruel, and I knew that she would enjoy telling the world. But luckily she was always afraid of Ida Mae, who helped me by threatening her with bodily harm if she spoke one word about my past.
And then Ida Mae turned against me with her own sort of blackmail.”

  “Ida Mae wouldn’t blackmail nobody,” Radine protested.

  “Not for money, but it was blackmail just the same. She asked me to take you under my wing and introduce you into Guthrie society as my special friend. But I dared not take the risk. Life had taught me how cruel and harsh women could be in their judgments, how unforgiving, and how long their memories. Why, Harriet had to shame the Guthrie church ladies into accepting you. And all you ever did was ride into town with the White Elephant Dancehall girls, and then refuse to cut them in the street.

  “I told Ida Mae that I wouldn’t take the risk. She called me a coward and we both lost our tempers, then everything got out of control. I said some horrible things that I didn’t mean and Ida Mae slapped me. In a fit of fury I shoved her really hard. She lost her balance and fell and her head struck the edge of the chest. Blood gushed out, and the shock brought us both back to our senses. I wanted to send for the doctor, but Ida Mae refused. I knew she was still trying to protect me, and it made me ashamed. But I was too terrified to insist. She asked for a cloth to press against the wound and then she left. I was horrified when I learned she had collapsed in the tunnel.”

  Charlotte broke down and sobbed against Mortimer’s chest. “She was such a wonderful friend to me. I failed her and even caused her death. I’m so very sorry and so very ashamed.”

  “Courage my dearest, courage.” Mortimer rocked her gently in his arms.

  “Your past was what Ida Mae and Felicity had that knock-down-drag-out about,” Radine said. “And I always thought it was over some worthless man.”

  Charlotte struggled with her tears. “Ida Mae was fighting for me and for my happiness. She seemed to want my dream to come true even if hers couldn’t. But when Ida Mae died, Felicity deduced the truth. She sent a note saying that I must meet her at the clump of willows on Sunday. While everyone was distracted with their own affairs, I slipped away to talk to her or she would tell someone. She wanted a thousand dollars for her silence.” Charlotte moved her gaze to the women. “Now where would I get a thousand dollars without asking Mortimer? I pushed her hard in anger. She stumbled and fell facedown in the water and instinctively I stepped into the creek to help her. Then a sort of madness overtook me, just like today, and I reacted in the same insane manner. Instead of extending my hand, I put my foot on her back and held her down. When she quit moving I shouted for help and pretended to have just found her.”