by Barbara Goss
“That man was Charles. He saw how frightened I was. He asked me if it was my first time, and all I could do was nod. He was soft-spoken, extremely gentle, and he asked me to dance. We danced to the music coming from downstairs, and he held me close and kissed my cheek. Then, he led me to the bed, and I thought that this time I might be able to go through with it since he was so sweet. We kissed and got close to... but he pulled away. He didn’t want ‘that.’ Instead, he got down on his knees and proposed to me. I was a virgin on our wedding night.”
Hannah had tears in her eyes. “So you were never really a... a well, you know. I’m so glad you found love before Lilah’s ruined you.”
“All the town’s people know is that I worked for Lilah. They will have nothing to do with me except for my one neighbor who’s elderly, and she knows my story.”
“And you and Charles love each other?” Hannah asked.
“So very much.” Chloe touched her belly. “We might be having a baby soon. I’ve missed my monthly twice now.”
Hannah rose and hugged Chloe. “I knew you were a kindred spirit.”
Chloe poured them more tea. “That’s why Charles never doubted me. He knew I wouldn’t cheat on him.”
Without thinking, Hannah murmured, “It must be nice to be loved.”
“I’m sure Mr. Hart loves you,” Chloe said, “and your children.”
Hannah thought fast. She wasn’t going to lie to her new friend. “Our situation is more complicated, for I was a mail-order bride. We are fond of each other, but our story is not as romantic as yours.” She moved toward the door. “I have to get home, but I truly enjoyed our visit.”
“Will you come back?” Chloe asked.
“Of course.” Hannah thought for a moment. “How about we ride into town the next time I come and we’ll do some shopping.”
Chloe’s face took on a worried look. “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”
Hannah hugged her. “Of course I do. We’re friends.”
As Hannah trotted toward home, a horse pulled up beside her. It startled her as she’d been daydreaming.
The sight of Sheriff Stafford gave her a chill. “Out visiting, Mrs. Hart?” he asked, trying to keep his horse at pace with hers.
“I might be. Is that against the law?”
Stafford’s black beady eyes bore into hers. “Of course not, but you seem quite the busybody lately.”
“I’m making friends, is all.”
“I hope you aren’t interfering with my crime investigation.”
“What crime investigation? Wilson was found not guilty.” Hannah knew now why Chloe disliked the man.
“But his wife is still a suspect as is Mrs. Monroe. I’m warning you to keep out of my way until I’ve solved the crime.”
“Chloe Wilson wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hannah snapped.
The sheriff laughed. “This is a murder investigation, so now I have to interrogate you, as well.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” She wanted to tell him she hadn’t even been in Hunter’s Grove at the time of the murder, but she couldn’t.
“I order you to follow me to my office immediately for questioning.”
“I can’t. I have two children to look after, and I’m late getting home now.”
“Then be there first thing tomorrow morning.” He kicked his horse, and he galloped away.
When Hannah arrived home, she was surprised to see Cameron playing ball with Annabelle, while intermittingly pushing Georgie on the rope swing. She never thought to see such a sight.
She sat on her horse quietly from a distance and watched. Hannah wondered if he were truly becoming fond of the children, or if it were a show for her eyes? But then, she wasn’t there, so he couldn’t be doing that.
Annabelle caught sight of her and waved. “Mama—come play with us.”
Hannah trotted over to the hitching post, dismounted, and Annabelle wrapped her arms quickly around her legs.
“I missed you, Mama.”
Hannah bent and hugged her. “Did you have a good afternoon?”
Cameron came up and took the reins of her horse. “I’ll take care of Molly. You run along with the children.”
Hannah looked across the yard to see Georgie frowning. “Papa, Papa! More push!”
Annabelle giggled when she saw her mama’s surprised face. “He can’t say ‘father,’ I tried teaching him, so Papa said we could call him Papa. Georgie can say it perfectly.”
Hannah laughed. So, now he was Papa…interesting.
Cameron called to Georgie. “Papa has to take care of the horse. Maybe Mama can give you a push.” He looked at Hannah with raised eyebrows.
“Of course, I can.” Hannah walked quickly over to Georgie and gave his swing a push.
“Whee!” Georgie cried.
Annabelle took hold of Hannah’s hand. “We had so much fun today. Papa took us to Rainbow Falls for a picnic, then we came home and played ball.”
“Did you finish your arithmetic assignment?” Hannah asked.
“Umm, not yet, Mama, but I’ll go and do it now.”
Hannah smiled at Annabelle. “It can wait until tomorrow. You deserve a day off. You’ve been so diligent about your work.”
“Dili... what?”
“Diligent means hardworking.”
“Then why didn’t you say hardworking?”
“Because in the English language, words have many meanings, and some fit what you mean a little better.”
Cameron walked up and plucked Georgie from the swing. “I bet Bessie has our supper waiting. Let’s see what delicious meal she’s cooked tonight.”
“Come on, Georgie, we need to wash up.” Annabelle took him from Cameron and led him into the house.
Hannah felt Cameron’s eyes on her. “Is something amiss?”
“No. Just that the sheriff came here looking for you not long after we came home from our picnic. He wanted to know where you were.”
Hannah sucked in her breath. “What did you tell him?”
“I said you were out visiting friends.”
“Well, he found me at Chloe’s,” she said frowning. “Now, I’m to be questioned in his office tomorrow morning.”
“You? For what?”
“I don’t know. The man gives me the creeps.”
Cameron opened the front door for her. “You need a lawyer with you, and I know a good one.”
“You’ll go with me?”
“You bet I will, and you’ll let me do all the talking. Only answer him when I nod.”
Hannah felt relieved, and she let out a slight sigh.
“Now, let’s eat supper. Something smells mighty good in there.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hannah felt uncomfortable sitting in front of the sheriff’s desk until Cameron had put his arm around the back of her chair. He wasn’t touching her, but it made her feel secure having him close.
The sheriff’s eyes jumped between Hannah and Cameron. “I didn’t say you were a suspect, Mrs. Hart. There was no need to bring your lawyer, even if he is your husband. I have a few questions, is all.”
“Hannah wasn’t even in town at the time of the murder, so she has no answers for you,” Cameron said.
The sheriff stiffened. Hannah could tell that as long as Cameron was with her, he would not get away with badgering her.
“But she did visit Mrs. Monroe and Mrs. Wilson—do you mind telling me why?”
Stafford had asked while looking at Hannah, but Cameron answered. “She’s new to Hunter’s Grove and wanted to make friends with women outside of the ones at church. New friends. She didn’t find Mrs. Monroe friendly, but she and Chloe Wilson have become good friends.”
“I see,” the sheriff said, frowning. “I need to know what either woman told her about the murder.”
Cameron gave Hannah a nod.
“I visited Mrs. Monroe to give my condolences, but she wasn’t friendly. All she said about the murder was that it was three months ago, and sh
e was over it.” She looked at Cameron, and he smiled and nodded again.
“I visited Chloe Wilson to invite her to church. She hasn’t given me an answer yet. She told me exactly what my husband told the court.”
“I need you to repeat exactly what she said to ensure what she told you agrees with what she told me,” the sheriff said.
Again, Cameron nodded.
Hannah told him exactly what Chloe had said.
The sheriff shook his head as if puzzled. “Do you mean she still claims to have been sound asleep while a person axed her boyfriend?”
Cameron nodded. “Mrs. Wilson said she’d always been a sound sleeper and that she didn’t know Mr. Monroe—had never met him.”
The sheriff laughed. “In a town this small? Unbelievable.”
“I’ve never met Charles Wilson, but from what Chloe tells me, they are very much in love,” Hannah said.
“And you believed her?”
Hannah waited for her husband’s nod. “Yes, I do. Her face gets soft and dreamy when she talks about him.”
The sheriff grimaced and shook his head. “Charles married a woman from Lilah’s, and he's out of town more than he’s in it. I can’t imagine a woman like Mrs. Wilson being alone all the time.”
Hannah buttoned her lip. First, the sheriff had sworn Charles was the killer, and now he seems to be pointing his finger at Chloe.
Cameron surprised Hannah by speaking up forcefully. “You’re the sheriff, and in my opinion, you’re doing a sloppy job of solving this crime. I think we should bring in a United States Marshal.”
The sheriff growled, “We don’t need them sticking their noses in our small-town business.”
“Murder is serious. In my opinion, you should have called them in immediately,” Cameron said. “In my opinion, someone killed Monroe and moved him to the Wilsons' bedroom.”
The sheriff stood. “You two may leave. This interrogation is over.”
As they were leaving the sheriff’s office, Cameron said, “How about we get some lunch over at Parker’s.”
Hannah felt hungry, as she’d been too nervous about her impending meeting with the sheriff to eat much breakfast. “I’d love it.”
Over bowls of hot stew and homemade bread, Cameron told Hannah about his dislike of Sheriff Stafford. “He inherited the job because his uncle was head of the town council. I have no respect for the man. He is a frequent client of Lilah’s himself. When a fight breaks out in the saloon, he’s never around, and the barkeeper has to break it up. He’s useless.”
“You’ll probably think I’m foolish,” Hannah said, “but I felt something wasn’t right when he came out of Myra Monroe’s house the day I visited. She never mentioned she had a guest, then he comes strolling out, pretending to have been there to investigate. It just felt fake to me.”
“I would never think you foolish. Women’s intuition is never wrong.” He winked.
Hannah felt a strange tingle run through her when he smiled and winked. She felt like her body was betraying her, and she had to remind herself that she didn’t even like Cameron Hart. Well, maybe she liked him a little. He could be charming when he wanted to be.
“You have a strong intuition yourself,” she said. “You knew Charles Wilson wasn’t the murderer, didn’t you?”
Cameron took a long sip of his coffee. “I had a feeling he wasn’t the murderer, but I wasn’t positive. When I was with him, I was sure he was innocent, but when I wasn’t, doubt haunted me.”
“You didn’t have to do or say anything dishonest in the courtroom for the jury to find him innocent, did you?” The dishonesty bothered Hannah.
“No, I didn’t. I just gave the facts, but there’s something you need to know about lawyers— they are paid to do a job, and they do their best, even if the man is guilty.”
“Isn’t that dishonest?” she asked, a bit shocked.
“Every person has the right to a lawyer who will give competent, aggressive legal representation.”
“What if he’s a murderer?”
“Every person is presumed innocent until proven guilty. It’s the jury’s job to decide.”
Hannah wasn’t sure if she could accept his explanation. She was sure that, if she were a lawyer, she would not defend a guilty person. Hannah needed to give his words some thought.
Before she could ask him another question, a man walked up behind Cameron and clapped his shoulder, causing him a startle. When he looked up at the man, he laughed. “Hannah, you remember Joe Simmons, my business partner?”
Joe took Hannah’s hand and patted it. “How do you like Hunter’s Grove so far?”
He released her hand, and she returned his smile. “I find this small town rather endearing.”
“May I join you?” Joe asked.
“Yes,” Cameron said, pointing to an empty chair.
Joe pulled up the chair and sat between them at the end of the table. “I’ve come for your answer, Cameron. I have to get things moving.” He looked at Hannah, “Your husband will make a fine senator, and this town will grow.”
Hannah stared at Cameron, wondering what he needed to answer.
Cameron sat quietly, playing idly with the food on his plate. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and my wife and I have decided I won’t be running for the state Senate.”
Hannah couldn’t believe her ears. It was the reason he'd married her, and the reason he'd adopted the children, and now he was passing it by?
Joe sighed loudly. “I was counting on you, Cameron. I already have a hundred citizen signatures—what am I to do now?”
Cameron said, “You should have waited.”
“We’ll talk later,” Joe said, standing. He pushed his chair back roughly and stormed from the eatery.
“But Cameron, we never even discussed this. How can you say it was a mutual decision?”
Cameron shrugged. “I know how you feel about my dishonesty, and even the few church services I sat through told me I’ve behaved disgracefully. I want you and the children to be proud of me but not because I fooled the voters to gain a seat in the Senate. Once I was elected, would I continue being dishonest? Probably so. If just one person discovered my lie, I’d have shamed myself and my family. No, I won’t continue being dishonest.”
Hannah smiled slightly. “I’m glad, but does this mean you’ll undo our marriage and take the children back?”
“Not on your life!” Cameron exclaimed. “I’ve become quite fond of you and the children. We no longer have to hide how we met or how we got the children. I want to be a father the children can be proud of... ” he added softly, “and you, as well.”
Cameron pushed his half-eaten dinner away. “You seem to be enjoying the mystery of who killed Monroe—why?”
“I’ve always enjoyed reading mysteries and the mystery has to be solved by the book’s ending or it never really ends, so I want to find out who really killed Monroe.”
Cameron smiled and patted her hand as it laid on the table. “Let’s solve it then... together.”
“Really? You’ll help me?” she asked.
“I’m curious, too, and I don’t like you investigating by yourself. It could get dangerous.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cameron walked into Joe’s office as soon as he arrived at work.
“Just the man I want to see,” Joe said. “Sit down.”
Cameron took a seat and prepared for an argument.
Joe shook a stack of papers at him. “All these citizens want you for senator. Now, what am I supposed to tell them?”
“Hannah and I were discussing the matter just this morning at breakfast. If you want me to run, I will.”
Joe smiled broadly. “You will?”
“On one condition: I will not be dishonest. I’ll give a speech in the town square and tell them all the truth.”
“They won’t like it,” Joe said.
“Then I’ll withdraw.”
“Marriage sure has changed you.”
“It
has. I’m a church-going man with a family. I went about everything the wrong way, but you know what? It all turned out perfectly. I have two of the most precious children and a virtuous, lovely wife—what more could a man ask for? If the people turn me down, it was meant to be. Or, as Hannah would say, it’s God’s will.”
Joe sighed. “All right. I’ll set up the date and time for your speech.”
“I also need afternoons off for a few weeks; can you cover for me?”
“Certainly. Our caseloads aren’t exactly full. We need that railroad line.”
Cameron stood and walked to the door. “I’ll do my best, but honestly so.”
That afternoon, after the nanny arrived, Hannah and Cameron rode to Chloe’s neighbor’s home.
Cameron knocked on the door of Mrs. Kepler’s small, well-kept house. When a little, elderly woman answered the door, Cameron introduced them. As they followed her into the sitting room, Hannah noticed her limp. “Are you all right, Mrs. Kepler?”
“Oh, posh, yes—it’s just my hip acting up again. You two can call me Elsie.” She squinted up at Cameron. “Say, aren’t you that lawyer fellow that defended Charles Wilson?”
Cameron nodded. “Yes, and my wife and I are trying to find the real killer.”
“Oh, dear!” Elsie said. “It wasn’t me, I assure you. Would you care for some tea?”
“No, but thank you,” Hannah said. “Chloe and I are friends, and the sheriff seems to be pointing the finger in her direction. We want to help.”
“Chloe wouldn’t harm a fly.” Elsie folded her hands in her lap. “How can I help?”
Cameron asked, “Do you remember the night of the incident?”
“Usually I wouldn’t because my memory slips on minor things, but I remember that night because Mitzie had gone missing, and—”
“Mitzie?” Cameron asked.
“My cat. She always comes to the door just before dark for her dinner, and that night she didn’t. I waited, called, and no Mitzie. So, by the time it grew dark, I was worried. I threw on my shawl and went out to look for her. We don’t get much traffic on this road as only three families live on it: me, the Wilsons, and about a mile and a half away, the Larson’s. As you can see,” Elsie pointed to a side window, “I can’t even see the Wilsons’ from here. They are about a half-mile down the road, but there are trees between us. So, I didn’t see a thing... except... well, that probably won’t help you none.”
