Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02]

by Harvest Moon

  “You little idiot, you risked being caught twice.” David couldn’t keep the note of pride out of his voice.

  “It was worth it,” Tessa said triumphantly. “I got the pictures and my mother’s rosary.”

  “I got the rosary,” David reminded her.

  Tessa ignored him. She preferred not to think about how he had gotten her rosary. She had it back in her possession and that was all that mattered. “I recognized Liam from this picture. I know he followed me to Peaceable, but I think he was after Arnie Mason, too. I think he wanted both of us.” She paused, looking at David, gauging his reaction to the news. “I know he’s a friend of yours, but I think maybe he killed Arnie Mason.”

  Interesting. Tessa had been afraid of Lee, but not of Arnie Mason. David was silent.

  Tessa continued, “I don’t understand why Eamon had these pictures in his pocket.” She took the envelope and pulled out the picture of Arnie Mason. “It’s not a very good picture, but I recognized him when I saw him at the Satin Slipper.”

  “Did he know you?”

  “I told him who I was,” Tessa replied. “I told him I was Eamon Roarke’s sister and that I’d come to Peaceable to take Eamon’s place at the Satin Slipper.”

  Good God, David thought, no wonder Arnie Mason had gone to her room! David had read the Pinkerton dossier on Arnie Mason. He knew what the man was capable of doing, what he’d done in the past. Arnie Mason had probably gone to see how much Tessa knew about her brother’s business. If he was right about Mason, Tessa had walked blindly into a den of thieves.

  “Did you tell Mason you’d come to take Eamon’s room or his place?” David realized the wording of her statement was very important. It could have made the difference between Arnie Mason killing her or letting her live. “Think, Tessa,” he urged. “It’s very important.”

  Tessa closed her eyes, concentrating on her first meeting with Arnie Mason. “I said I’d come to take Eamon’s place.”

  David grinned. “That’s it!” He stood up and swung Tessa around. “That’s it!”

  “What?”

  “Tessa,” David explained, “this is a police photo. A picture taken of criminals. Arnie Mason was in prison.” He pointed out the numbers painted across the front of Arnie Mason’s shirt. “That’s what the numbers mean. If I’m right, he didn’t go to your room just to…” David paused, wondering how to tell her. Then, deciding there was no easy way, he told her straight out. “He went to your room to silence you.” Seeing her blank expression, he added, “To kill you.”

  “Oh.” Tessa’s knees nearly buckled. She was quiet for a moment or two before her anger began to build. “I thought he was a friend at first, but then I realized Eamon would never make friends with someone like that. He was mean and brutish. Coalie was afraid of Arnie. He’d heard some bad things about him and warned me to stay away, but it was too late. I’d already been friendly to him and he thought…”

  David clenched his fists. It was a good thing the son of a bitch was already dead. “That’s why he went to your room that night.”

  “Yes,” Tessa admitted. “He wanted to…you know… He tried to force me.”

  “What happened?”

  “I fought him off.” Tessa paused, remembering. “Then I saw a shadow moving behind him. The next thing I knew, Arnie was dead. Lying across me. Bleeding all over me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I shouted for help.”

  And I heard you, David thought. I heard you.

  Tessa continued. “I looked up and saw Coalie at the foot of the bed. He’d been sleeping in the alcove behind the curtain. I screamed for him to get help. He ran out the door. Then, suddenly everyone came running in. I tried to explain, but some of the girls were screaming that I’d done murder, that I’d killed him. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “So, Coalie came to get me while the deputies arrested you.” David’s voice was grim. He had the truth. Now all he had to do was prove it. And he had the proof if he could just persuade the judge and jury to put aside their bias against a saloon girl and listen to the facts. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to set Tessa up, but that someone had made a mistake. It hadn’t been necessary for the murderer to lure Arnie to Tessa’s room; he was going there anyway—to kill her. And whoever set Tessa up had written Arnie a note inviting him to Tessa’s room, not knowing Tessa couldn’t read or write.

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” David asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t listen to me, that you wouldn’t take the word of a saloon girl. And if you found out I’d stolen Coalie, you’d think I was a liar as well as a criminal.”

  It was the same prejudice he’d have to battle to save her.

  * * *

  David worked at his desk the rest of the afternoon, his feelings torn. He was relieved that Tessa had finally told him the whole truth about the night of the murder. That meant she trusted him. But he still wasn’t confident he could save her…and it was now more than a matter of professional pride. He had to find someone to help put the pieces of the story together at the hearing. The logical choice was Lee, but David wasn’t sure Lee would be able to testify unless his work in Peaceable was finished.

  David took a deep breath. The only other logical choice was Coalie. Coalie could tell why he and Tessa left Chicago, and why they kept to themselves at the Satin Slipper. Coalie knew Tessa hadn’t had a relationship with Arnie Mason because he had slept in the same room; he was, in fact, asleep in the curtained alcove when Arnie entered the room. But there was a problem. David didn’t want to ask Coalie to testify, and Tessa was bound to object.

  He stood up and grabbed his coat. He needed to talk to Lee.

  * * *

  Lying across her bed, Tessa breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him leave. She needed some room and some time to herself without David there. The living quarters were impossibly cramped under the circumstances.

  Tessa wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She was in love with David Alexander—her lawyer, but also for the time being her jailor. She was in love and living in another tiny, cramped apartment when all she ever really wanted was a home of her own and a family to share it.

  Sweet Mary, how much more would she be forced to endure? Tessa almost laughed. She was in love with her jailor, her lawyer, and he didn’t return her love. He wanted her; she knew that. But most of all, he wanted to take care of her. Lord, how she hated that phrase. All her life people had promised to take care of her—her mother, her father, her brother. Then they’d died and left her alone with the memories of empty promises.

  Tessa didn’t want anyone to take care of her. She could take care of herself, and she could take care of Coalie as well. What she wanted, what she needed most, was someone to love her and to share her life, someone who would accept Coalie as his own and give her other children to mother. She needed David. She wanted David and Coalie together and a home of her own, a little house with a yard and roses and maybe a few sheep scattered around, a place where she could lavish love and attention on her family. When this was over, when they’d found Arnie Mason’s murderer, when she was free to choose her own way of life, maybe then David would love her…

  If they found the murderer.

  Tessa squeezed her eyes shut, blotting out her surroundings. She didn’t want to think about Arnie Mason’s murder any more. She tried not to think at all.

  She pressed her precious silver and onyx rosary, her mother’s rosary, to her lips. She had finally found the man she could love. It was unfortunate that he was also her attorney, responsible for gaining her freedom. She needed all the help she could get.

  Tessa felt the hot tears form behind her eyelids, then the dampness as they rolled down her cheeks, felt the lump in her throat as she struggled to recite the old familiar words. “Hail, Mary, full of grace…”

  She curled her body into a tight ball, whispering into the soft cotton quilt.<
br />
  * * *

  “You’ve got to tell me what you’re working on.” David confronted Lee at the bar of the Satin Slipper. “It’s important.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Lee replied.

  “You have to.” David sat on one of the barstools. “Tessa didn’t kill Arnie Mason. I know that.”

  “Of course she didn’t,” Lee agreed, polishing glasses with a white towel. “She couldn’t have.”

  “Then who the hell did?” David asked. “I have a pretty good idea, but that’s not enough. You know this town. I don’t just have to prove Tessa’s innocence; I have to give them a murderer. Otherwise they’ll hold her over for trial out of prejudice and ignorance. I have to find the murderer, and you have to help me.” David leaned over the bar. “Tessa’s life depends on it.”

  “I want to help you, David. But if I tell you what I’m working on,” Lee reminded him, “my life could be in danger.”

  “If you don’t tell me, my friend,” David said through clenched teeth, “I guarantee your life will be in danger.”

  “It’s against regulations,” Lee hedged.

  “Hang regulations! I know the regulations. And you know I won’t endanger your life if I can help it.”

  “I’ll need a few days to make some arrangements. Then I’ll tell you,” Lee answered.

  “When?” David demanded. “I need to know.”

  “Soon.”

  “Dammit, Lee, how soon?” David demanded. “Tessa doesn’t have much time.”

  “Neither do I,” Lee muttered. He stared at a point over David’s shoulder. “Damn! She’s seen you.”

  “Who?”

  Lee looked to his right and nodded. “Myra.”

  “Oh, hell.” David barely got the words out of his mouth before the owner of the Satin Slipper approached him.

  “Hello, lawyer man.” Her voice was whiskey-rough, calculated to entice. “What brings you here this early in the afternoon?” She moved closer to David until she was almost standing beneath his arms. “I see you’re not drinking.” Myra eyed Lee disapprovingly.

  “I’ve only been here a few minutes,” David said. “I’m waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.”

  “Coffee?” Myra ran her right hand down the front of David’s shirt, her scarlet fingernails tracing the threads around one buttonhole. “Lawyer man, you know I don’t make any money serving coffee.” She turned to Lee. “Pour the man some scotch.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lee hurried to comply.

  “I don’t want scotch,” David said. “It’s too early.”

  “It’s never too early for good scotch,” Myra scoffed. “Besides, it’s on the house, lawyer man.” She moved her hand upward until the scarlet nail of her index finger reached his chin. “Anything else you want?”

  David shrugged his shoulders. “Not today. Sorry.”

  Myra’s eyes narrowed. “Not today, not tonight, not ever.” She withdrew her hand from his face. Smiling at David, she kissed the tip of her finger. “Could be you’re getting what you need elsewhere—from the little Irish girl.” She moved to touch her finger to his lips.

  David reached out and intercepted her, the strong, lean fingers of his hand closing around the delicate bones of her right wrist. “What have you got against her, Myra?” David moved the pad of his thumb against her wrist, feeling the abrasion encircling it.

  “I don’t have anything against her, lawyer man.” Taking encouragement from the movement of his thumb against her pulse, Myra rubbed herself against him. “I knew her brother while he was here in Peaceable. We were very close. It’s a shame he died so young.” She shuddered. “Horrible to think of him run down by a wagon. That’s why I gave the poor girl a job and a place to stay. I felt sorry for her.”

  “I’m sure Miss Roarke appreciates your concern.” David loosened his grip on Myra’s wrist. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  “You do that.” Myra stepped back. “You tell her for me.”

  David released her arm.

  “I’ll be here if you need me, lawyer man.” She blew him a kiss. “For anything. Anything at all.”

  “Nice act,” David said when Myra moved out of earshot.

  “Yep,” Lee agreed. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He set a cup of coffee down in front of David.

  “Was Eamon Roarke run down by a wagon?” David sipped at the black coffee.

  “Right in front of the detective agency. Witnesses said the driver fit Arnie Mason’s description.”

  “You think Arnie Mason killed Tessa’s brother?”

  “That’s about it,” Lee answered.

  David placed his cup back on the saucer. He bit back a wry laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Lee demanded.

  David looked him in the eye. “Not funny. Ironic.” David took the picture of Lee out of his pocket and slid it across the bar. “Tessa gave me that this afternoon. Her brother had it in his pocket the day he died, along with a police photo of Arnie Mason.”

  Lee glanced at the picture. “Christ!”

  “You think Arnie Mason killed Eamon Roarke. Tessa thinks you killed Arnie.”

  “Me?” Lee was all innocence. “You know me. Do you believe I killed him?” He shook his head in dismay. “I swear that woman hates me.” Lee handed the picture back to David.

  “She also thinks you were trying to take Coalie back to Chicago.”

  “What would I want with the kid?” Lee asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “A reward for his return,” David replied.

  “Damn,” Lee muttered. “So when I followed her and the boy from Chicago, she thought—”

  “You were after Coalie.”

  “No wonder she attacked me.” Lee whistled low, pulled the towel from over his shoulder, and started polishing the bar. He paused and looked at David. “And you, my friend? What do you think?”

  David slipped the photograph into his coat pocket. He looked up and met Lee Kincaid’s worried gaze. “I don’t think you killed Mason.”

  “Thank God!” Lee exhaled. “With Eamon gone, I don’t have too many friends left.” He smiled at David. “And I’d sure hate to lose one.”

  David returned his smile. “Then I’d say this calls for a celebration. What time is it?” he asked Lee. “Oh, wait, I forgot—your watch is at the jeweler’s.” David patted his pocket searching for his.

  “I’ve got mine,” Lee said, reaching for his pocket watch. “The jeweler put a new crystal on it and repaired the clasp on the chain. I picked it up from the store this morning.”

  David watched carefully as Lee removed his timepiece from his waistcoat pocket. The flashy gold watch dangled from a delicate gold chain. A chain that didn’t match the one David had in his top desk drawer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tessa was waiting when David returned to the office.

  Her heart constricted when she smelled the perfume on him. “You’ve been to the Satin Slipper.”

  “Yes,” David answered. He placed a big basket on his desk, then took off his coat and hung it on the rack. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he caught a whiff of Myra’s scent. He hastened to explain. “It isn’t what you think. Myra turns into a cat and rubs herself against me every time I go into the saloon.” Tessa’s eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying. “I had a few questions for Lee Kincaid.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do,” David said. “Look, I stopped by the hotel restaurant and picked up some supper.” He gestured toward the basket.

  David knew Tessa missed Coalie. He understood that she was lonely and bored within the confines of the small apartment with only him and Horace Greeley for company, so despite his best intentions to limit his social contact with her, David had brought home a picnic for two. All the way from the hotel, he’d told himself he should keep his distance from Tessa, but with each step that brought him closer to her another part of him reminded him how much he missed her, how much he wanted to share with her
. He didn’t want to stay away. He couldn’t. It took so little to make Tessa happy, and despite everything David realized he wanted to make her happy.

  “I thought we could have a picnic.”

  “In November?” Tessa didn’t believe him. “In freezing weather?”

  “We’ll have it indoors and pretend it’s spring.” David walked to his bedroom and returned a few minutes later with a quilt. He spread it on the floor in front of the stove.

  Tessa watched as he unpacked the basket, placing all of the containers on the quilt.

  He looked up at Tessa. “We need plates and utensils. I couldn’t talk the hotel into loaning me any more.” He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I keep forgetting to return them.” He knelt down on the quilt.

  Tessa wanted to laugh. So that accounted for the mismatched plates and cups. He probably had plates from every eating establishment in town. “Wouldn’t it be simpler just to buy some?” She walked to the cupboard, took down two plates, and handed them to him. “What about cups?”

  “Not yet. But you can bring some warm water.” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “For our fingers.” David unpacked a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I got this from Lee.” He noticed the way Tessa tensed at the mention of Lee’s name. “He gave me the wine to spite Myra and threw in the glasses for good measure.”

  Tessa gasped. “But she counts all the glasses. If they’re missing it will come out of his pay.” She handed him the silverware.

  “Lee didn’t seem to mind.” David smiled in remembrance. A bottle of Myra’s finest Scotch whisky nestled in the bottom of David’s picnic basket as well. Lee had given it to him. On the house. “Sit down.” He patted a corner of the quilt. He finished unloading the basket, except for the scotch, and tugged off his boots.

  She laughed as he wiggled his toes in front of the stove. Opening the door, she dumped another scuttle full of coal into the stove’s potbellied interior. “Better?”