Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02] (29 page)

BOOK: Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02]
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“Do you have any idea why Miss Roarke was screaming for help?”

“I guess because Arnie Mason was lyin’ half on top of her. When I got there, she was tryin’ to kick his body off her.” The deputy gazed at David. “He was bleedin’ all over her.”

“So Mr. Mason was lying face up?” David asked.

“No, sir,” Deputy Harris corrected. “He was lyin’ face down.”

“Didn’t you find that unusual?”

“No, sir. Not at the time. But now that you mention it, it does seem strange, seein’ as how she cut his throat.”

“Thank you, Deputy Harris. No more questions for now.” David scribbled several notes on his tablet.

The prosecuting attorney called several more witnesses: the undertaker, the doctor, the sheriff, and two women from the Satin Slipper. Jeremy Cook hastily built his case. David carefully unraveled it.

“The territory of Wyoming calls Miss Charlotte Winston.”

Charlotte the Harlot took the stand. She echoed the deputy’s testimony to the letter. Cook completed his questioning. Charlotte got to her feet, preparing to leave.

“One minute, Miss Winston.” David stood up and walked around the defendant’s table. He moved within a few feet of Charlotte. “I have a couple of questions.”

The crowd in the gallery laughed.

“Miss Winston, will you tell us what happened after the deputies came to Miss Roarke’s room at the Satin Slipper?”

Charlotte smoothed a lock of brown hair away from her forehead and straightened her hat—a hat covered with bows and lace and dyed bird feathers, David noticed. “Well, the deputies took Tessa—I mean, Miss Roarke—outside. Then they took her to jail.”

“Then what happened at the Satin Slipper?” David asked softly. “Was Miss Roarke’s room locked to keep people out?”

“No, sir. There ain’t any locks on the doors at the saloon, except Myra’s.”

“Go on.” David leaned closer to her. “Tell us what happened next.”

“Myra…” Charlotte paused, licking her lips nervously. “I mean, Miss Brennan—”

“Owner of the Satin Slipper Saloon,” David interjected for the benefit of the jury. “Please continue.”

“Yes, sir. Miss Brennan told some of the girls to go get a mop and some rags and fresh bed linen.”

“Then what happened?” David prompted.

“Well, after we cleaned up the mess, Miss Brennan told us to help ourselves.”

‘To what?”

“To Tes…Miss Roarke’s belongings.”

David paced, measuring the distance between the witness stand and the defense table. “I see.” He turned to face Charlotte. “Did you help yourself to any of Miss Roarke’s things?”

“Yes, sir.” Charlotte shifted in her chair, sitting up straighten

“What did you take?”

“I didn’t
take
anything,” Charlotte said. “It wasn’t like we were stealing. Miss Brennan gave it to us.”

“It wasn’t Miss Brennan’s to give,” David said. “Now, please answer the question. What did you take?”

“I got some of her dresses. The yellow one and the green one. And I got a couple of nightgowns and a silver and black necklace,” Charlotte answered. “I lost it, though. Too bad. It was real pretty.”

David ground his teeth at Charlotte’s description of Tessa’s rosary. “Did Miss Brennan give Miss Roarke’s room to anyone else at the Satin Slipper?”

“Yes, sir. That morning.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting Charlotte to volunteer information was next to impossible. “Do you know who got the room?”

“Mr. Alexander, you know who got her room,” Charlotte reminded him.

“Yes, I do,” David admitted, “but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell the rest of the people here who got the room.”

“I did,” she mumbled.

“Louder, please, so everyone can hear.”

“I did.”

“Thank you, Miss Winston,” David said. “Now, I have just one more question. Did you like Tessa Roarke?”

“Huh?” Charlotte seemed genuinely puzzled by the question.

“Did you like Miss Roarke? I mean, she was one of you. You worked together. You both went with the gentlemen customers—”

Tessa gasped aloud.

“I don’t know whether I liked her or not,” Charlotte answered honestly. “I didn’t really know her. She kept to herself. She and her boy. She didn’t whor…go with the gentlemen, like the rest of us. She just served drinks. That’s all.”

“Thank you again, Miss Winston. I have no more questions at this time.” David held out his hand. “You may step down.” He helped her down from the stand, then walked back to the defense table and sat down.

Tessa reached out and placed her hand on top of his.

David looked at her.

She didn’t speak. She simply squeezed his hand in a gesture of approval and encouragement and love and a dozen other emotions she couldn’t put a name to.

David’s heart thumped at her touch. He smiled at her.

“The territory of Wyoming calls Miss Myra Brennan to the stand.” Jeremy Cook made the announcement.

The spectators in the courtroom recognized drama when they saw it. Almost everyone in town had witnessed the confrontation between Myra and David Alexander on the sidewalk the day Tessa Roarke was released from jail. And nearly everyone in town had seen Tessa dash into the saloon, intent on reclaiming her property.

Dressed in an exquisite black satin moiré dress in the latest Paris fashion, Myra Brennan walked to the front of the courtroom, raised her right hand, and repeated the oath. She carefully seated herself in the chair Charlotte had vacated.

“Please state your name and your occupation for the record,” Jeremy said.

“Myra Belle Brennan. I’m the proprietor of the Satin Slipper Saloon here in Peaceable.” She spoke softly, carefully.

“Do you know the defendant, Miss Roarke?” Jeremy Cook strolled over to the table where David and Tessa sat and pointed a finger at Tessa.

“Yes, I do.”

“And did you know the victim, Mr. Arnie Mason?”

“He came into my establishment fairly often,” Myra answered. “I suppose you could say I knew him.”

“Will you tell the court how you met Miss Roarke?”

“Yes. Of course.” Myra moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “She came to my place of business a month or so ago looking for a room to rent.”

“And you rented her a room?”

“Of course. I felt sorry for the girl.”

Sitting beside Tessa, David felt her body stiffen in reaction to Myra’s statement.

“Was Miss Roarke alone?” Cook asked.

“No.”

“Who was with her?”

“The kid,” Myra replied. “I mean, her little boy. She’d just come from Chicago.”

“Did anyone travel with her besides the boy?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure…” Myra paused dramatically. “But I think maybe Arnie Mason did. He’d just come from Chicago, too,” she hinted slyly.

“Objection!” David stood up.

The judge rapped his gavel on the desk. “Overruled. Continue, Mr. Cook.”

“Did Miss Roarke ever work for you?” Jeremy asked. “You’ve told us that you gave her a room at the Satin Slipper out of the kindness of your heart.”

“I paid for the room,” Tessa whispered to David.

“I know,” David whispered back.

Tessa nodded toward the jury. “Make sure they know,” she told him, whispering furiously. “I don’t take charity from anyone, especially her.”

“Mr. Alexander?” Judge Emory spoke from the bench.

“Yes, Your Honor?” David glanced at Tessa, warning her to keep silent.

“Does your client have a problem?”

Tessa nodded.

David shook his head. “No, Your Honor.”

“Then cease your whispering,” the judge ordered. “Please excuse the interruption, Mr. Cook, and continue your line of questioning.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Jeremy’s smug expression irked David. It was the expression of a boy who delighted in tattling on other children. “Now, Miss Brennan, did Tessa Roarke ever work for you?”

“Yes, she did.”

“How was she employed?”

“She served drinks to the patrons of my establishment.”

“And that’s all?”

“Well,” Myra began, “that’s all I required her to do. What she did with her men friends after she finished work was her business.”

Tessa squirmed in her chair. David shifted his weight, deliberately sitting on her skirt to keep her still.

“One last question, Miss Brennan. Did you ever see Miss Roarke in conversation with Arnie Mason?”

Here it comes, David thought. Let her get too confident. Let her make a mistake.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Myra sat straight in her chair, smiling at the jury, enjoying her moment in the sun.

“Will you tell us about it?”

“I once saw her arguing with Arnie about the boy. I saw her talking to him on numerous occasions.”

“When did the argument take place?” Jeremy was practically licking his lips in anticipation.

Tessa kicked David under the table, hard enough to leave a bruise on the side of his leg. “She’s lying!” Tessa whispered.

“I know,” David replied. “Now, shhh!” He nudged her foot with his.

“A day or so before the murder,” Myra replied. “I don’t remember for sure.”

“But you did see the defendant in conversation with the victim?”

“Well, yes,” Myra told him. “I distinctly remember seeing her hand Arnie Mason a note a few hours before she killed him.”

Tessa kicked David again. “Aren’t you going to stand up and object again?” Tessa’s angry whisper was barely audible.

“No,” David whispered. “Let’s give her enough rope to hang herself. Be still!” He closed a hand over Tessa’s. “Listen.”

Jeremy Cook, sensing victory, asked a final question. “Do you know what the note said?”

“No, I don’t.” Myra smiled at Tessa. “She got quiet when I passed by, but I’m sure I heard her say something like ‘Don’t be late.’”

“You’re positive?”

“Absolutely.” Myra gazed at David Alexander, then very slowly placed a fingertip against her lips and kissed it.

“Clever,” David muttered, “but not clever enough.”

“Thank you, Miss Brennan.” Jeremy Cook turned to David and inclined his head. “I’ve finished with this witness.”

Judge Emory spoke to David. “Any questions for Miss Brennan, Mr. Alexander?”

“Not at the moment,” David answered.

“What?” Tessa gasped.

“But I’d like to reserve my right to cross-examine Miss Brennan at a later date.” David ignored Tessa’s outburst.

Judge Emory did not. “As we’ve been at this for quite a while, I suggest we recess for a late dinner.” He checked his watch. “We’ll reconvene at two o’clock.” He fixed his eagle-eyed gaze on Tessa. “And, Mr. Alexander, I suggest you speak to your client about courtroom etiquette.” He stood up.

The people in the courtroom all rose.

“David,” Tessa demanded before Sheriff Bradley made his way across the room, “you aren’t going to let her get away with saying those things, are you?”

David took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Tessa, listen to me. Listen carefully. I know what I’m doing.” She started to speak. “No, don’t say anything yet. Just nod or shake your head, yes or no. I know Myra was lying, but right now I can’t do anything about it,” he explained. “I’m stalling for time. I don’t want to put Coalie on the stand any more than you want me to, but I may not have a choice. Do you understand?”

Tessa shook her head.

“If things don’t go as I planned I’ll have to put either you or Coalie on the stand, and the jury will be a lot more sympathetic if they hear the truth from a child.” David tried to smile. “I know you don’t like the idea. But Myra’s testimony is the most damaging.”

“But she lied about everything,” Tessa burst out.

“Not everything,” David corrected. “
Almost
everything, but she told just enough of the truth to make her statements damaging to us. The jury will believe her. I sent for Lee Kincaid.”

“You want Liam Kincaid to testify for me? Are you crazy?”

“Yes,” David answered. Crazy about her.

“Yes to which question?” Tessa demanded.

David couldn’t prevent the smile that turned up the corners of his mouth. She didn’t miss much, he thought. Might even make a damn good attorney one day, once she learned to read.

“Miss Tessa?” Sheriff Bradley waited a respectful distance away. “I sure hope you’ve got your appetite back ’cause the missus baked a ham this morning for your dinner. I invited Miss Alexander and Coalie, too.” He winked at David. “Do you think you could manage a bite to eat?”

Tessa gave the sheriff a brilliant smile. “Sheriff Bradley, today I think I could eat a horse. By myself.”

The lawman offered Tessa his arm.

She took his elbow and allowed him to escort her to dinner at his house.

David looked down at his tablet as he packed his satchel. What he saw surprised him. He’d filled two pages with the scrawled words “Will you marry me?”

And Tessa hadn’t been able to read it.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-two

 

 

When court reconvened at two o’clock, Mary sat in the first row of the gallery behind David and Tessa. Lorna Taylor sat next to her. Coalie waited at the sheriff’s house with Jewell Bradley.

The prosecuting attorney, Jeremy Cook, had called his last witness in Myra Brennan. It was time for David to present Tessa’s side of the story. He called his first witness.

“The defense calls Sheriff James Bradley,” David announced.

Sheriff Bradley stepped forward, swore to tell the truth, then sat down in the witness stand.

David’s approach to the questioning process was the opposite of Jeremy Cook’s. Where Jeremy was a showman, David relied on logic. He had great respect for the common sense of the jurors.

“Sheriff Bradley,” David asked, “were you present when Miss Tessa Roarke was arrested for the murder of Mr. Arnie Mason?”

“No, sir. I wasn’t.”

“Who arrested her?”

“Deputy Harris,” the sheriff answered.

“When you first saw Miss Roarke, what condition was she in?” David questioned. “How was she dressed?”

“She was wearing a blanket and her…um…undergarments,” the sheriff told him. “And a man’s coat. I believe it was your coat.”

“Yes, it was,” David agreed. “Sheriff, do you remember if Miss Roarke had shoes on?”

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