Rue Allyn Read online

  She looked out the window. “Daddy may have pulled the trigger, but Sam’s death was my fault. I was about to go into the barn to try to stop the argument. Sam was standing about eight feet away from my father who had his back to me. Sam saw me and pulled his shot to keep me out of danger. That’s why I ran.

  “I went to my grandfather then too. Pappy was away in Cheyenne on business, and I didn’t know what to do. So I kept silent, waiting to find out what happened to the woman Daddy had accused.”

  Ev nodded to himself. He’d be confused too, if he wasn’t used to making his own decisions and the person who ran his life did murder in front of his eyes, especially if that person was his father. He knew exactly what it felt like to be the child of a man who disregarded the needs and wants of those dependent on him, a man who wielded his love like a club, a man who used violence and guilt to compel obedience from the very loved ones he abused. Only in Ev’s case it hadn’t been a lover that his father killed. It had been Ev’s mother.

  Ev closed his eyes on the remembered pain, on the ever-present memory of finding his mother dying at his father’s hands. The agony of finally giving in to rage and beating the old man senseless then dragging him to the local law. The disgust of watching the slimy bastard wriggle out of the charges because a man, especially a preacher, was allowed to discipline his wife in any way he saw fit. It wasn’t his fault if the woman was too far gone in drink to keep her balance and had hit her head when reeling from a backhanded blow. The sheriff and the townsfolk hadn’t cared that no one had ever seen Ev’s mother take a drink stronger than tea. That day Ev had put his sister on the train to Chicago and left his father and his town. He’d never been back. Determined to see justice done whenever possible, he’d become a marshal and spent his life hunting down criminals in an attempt to right the wrong done to his mother — a wrong that could never be put right.

  “Marshal, are you all right?” Miss Van Demer’s words pulled him from his memories. She’d moved to stand beside him, and he hadn’t seen her.

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I’m okay. Tell me the rest.”

  “I dithered, waiting, hoping Pappy would return from Cheyenne early, but he didn’t. Miss Alden was arrested and put on trial. I knew I should do something, but couldn’t figure out what. My father had murdered the man I love. I should have turned Daddy in, but he’s my father. I couldn’t.” Her hands twisted, and she looked almost wildly about the room.

  Ev put a hand on her shoulder hoping to stave off her agitation. “It’s okay, miss. Calm down and keep talking.”

  She swallowed, clutched her hands together and nodded. “The night you came back to town, Daddy told me to steal that packet from your room. The habit of obedience to him was strong, but so was the hate and anger that had been building since he killed Sam. I took the packet, but I didn’t give it to Daddy. Instead, I went to see Pappy to try to work out what was the right thing to do.”

  “I gather you’re here because of what your grandfather said.”

  She ducked her head a little. “Sort of. Pappy said that nothing was more important than family and certainly not some stranger’s life. Then I asked him if real family would ever hold back love and affection to guarantee obedience.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He smiled and said I was pretty smart for a girl then told me to go do what I thought was right.” She held Ev’s gaze. “Murder is wrong, and making other people pay for your own wrong doing is evil. Daddy was wrong to kill Sam, but making Miss Alden pay for that killing is evil. Giving you that packet is the right thing to do, Marshal. I know my father may hang for what he’s done, but I’ll remember him better for it.”

  At a loss for words, and anxious about the coming encounter with Judge Richter, Ev retrieved his hat. “I have to be going, Miss Van Demer. Earlier you asked if I would do something for you in exchange for the return of these photographs. I’ll be happy to discuss that with you at another time.”

  She set her jaw. “Another time won’t do, Marshal. You see, I want you to allow me to help you arrest my father. That’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it?”

  “Not quite, but why do you want that?”

  “For Sam.”

  Ev considered her. Alone, the confrontation with Richter could become a shooting matter. He doubted that the judge would try to kill two people, especially if one of them was daughter of the man giving him bribes. Some men might, but Richter wasn’t one of them. Ev was as certain of the man’s cowardice as Ev was certain he loved Kiera. But could Miss Van Demer pull off what he had in mind?

  “How much do you know about your father’s dealings with Judge Richter and the prosecuting attorney?”

  “Not much. They had business together, and they seemed to be friends.”

  Ev wasn’t so certain about the friendship. Men like Van Demer would see friendship as a weakness. “You don’t know any of the details of their business?”

  “No.”

  “Could you pretend that you did?”

  Her brow wrinkled in question. “How so?”

  “Miss Van Demer, I suspect that your father paid the judge and the prosecutor bribes to guarantee the outcome of Kiera’s trial. He may have done the same in other legal proceedings.”

  “My father is certainly capable of that.”

  “I can’t prove it without a confession from one or both of them. I don’t think your father is likely to confess. The judge, however, is a weak man and may tell us everything if he thinks we already know enough to prove he took the bribes.”

  Her brow eased, and she nodded. “I can do that. I did a deal of dissembling to hide the fact that I was seeing Sam when Daddy had forbidden it.”

  “Then let’s go, Miss Van Demer. I want to get this over with now.”

  As they headed for the stairs leading to Judge Richter’s room they heard angry murmurs coming from the room at the end of the third floor hall. A glance in that direction showed Ev that the door was ajar.

  “That’s Daddy’s room.”

  “Whoever he’s talking to, he doesn’t sound happy. We’d better go see if everything’s okay. Stay behind me.”

  As they got closer, Ev recognized Richter’s voice.

  “I won’t do your dirty work anymore, Van Demer. I don’t care how much money you offer me.”

  “You’ll do anything I want and be grateful that I allow you to keep your seat on the bench. Those government boys owe me favors. I won’t hesitate to use one of them to get you thrown in prison. What do you think will happen to you when some of those criminals you’ve put behind bars get their hands on you?”

  Ev turned to Miss Van Demer and pulled her back toward his room. “You heard all of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you testify to it?”

  “I will.”

  “Then stay here in my room. Keep the door locked and don’t go out. They don’t know you’re in the hotel, and I want it to stay that way.”

  “What will you be doing?”

  “Making certain that your Daddy and Judge Richter get what they deserve.”

  • • •

  Manacled hand and foot, Kiera surveyed the noisy courtroom. Where were Ev, Boyd, and Muh’Weda? Ev had promised he’d be with her for the sentencing. Muh’Weda was her friend and not one to shy from unpleasant necessities. He at the least she had expected to be present, offering his silent support. Finally she yielded to the pressure of her guard’s hand on her shoulder and took her seat.

  Judge Richter entered with the usual formalities then pounded his gavel and called for order. When the room quieted, he looked at Kiera a contemptuous sneer on his face.

  “Before I pronounce sentence, does the Wyoming Wildcat have any final words for the court?”

  How ironic, he denied me the chance to defend myself, but allows me a say now. Her thoughts racing, Kiera swallowed and stood. Could she delay long enough for Ev to arrive? She didn’t want to die without seeing him one last time. So she would s
peak, but what to say? She wouldn’t apologize or confess. Should she defy the court and expose it for the pack of lies and liars that it was? Would anyone listen if she did?

  “Well?” queried the Judge.

  “Cat’s got her tongue,” hollered someone from the back of the room.

  The gallery erupted in laughter. The judge smirked and waited for the mockery to die down.

  “If you’ve nothing to say, I’ll get on with … ”

  “No, wait! I do have something to say. To you and everyone here.”

  Still sneering, he gave a nod of his head. “Proceed.”

  “I’ve done nothing in my life that I regret.” It was a lie. She very much regretted that she’d spent more time trying to escape Ev and less time loving him. “I committed no horse-stealing, arson, or murder. You may hang me, but the truth will out. When the citizens of Laramie discover how they’ve been manipulated and hoodwinked, I pray that in my memory they will see justice visited upon the truly guilty parties. I leave no worldly goods, only the love and affection for … ”

  The double doors fronting the saloon burst open. Armed soldiers filed through double-time, taking up positions along the walls, next to Kiera, the prosecutor, and the judge. Four soldiers remained at the back of the room guarding the doors.

  The crowd remained hushed, but Richter rose and pounded his gavel anyway. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  For perhaps the only time, Kiera wanted the same thing as the judge.

  Boyd, Muh’Weda, and the colonel from Fort Sanders strode down the aisle that split the room.

  Her friends stopped and moved in behind Kiera. The colonel didn’t stop until he towered beside the judge. “I’ve been informed by these two gentlemen that this woman’s trial has been conducted in an illegal manner and that the charges against her are false.” The colonel gestured toward Kiera’s friends.

  “Hmmph. Chicanery, pure chicanery. You’ve been fooled, Colonel. That woman,” Richter pointed his gavel at Kiera, “is a horse-thief, an arsonist, and a murderer. She’s been tried and convicted of her crimes by a jury of her peers. Bringing you here is just some fool delaying tactic. It won’t stop the hanging I’m about to order. In fact, it may just get her hooligan friends thrown in jail for obstructing justice and contempt of court.”

  “Those friends presented compelling arguments to me along with the promise of evidence of this court’s misconduct.”

  “Lies. All lies. Exactly what one expects from the Wyoming Wildcat’s criminal associates.”

  Boyd stood and retrieved papers from his inner coat pocket. “I hate to disappoint you, Judge, but I’m no criminal. My full name is Boyd Alvarez. I’m a sworn representative of the Pinkerton Agency sent to Wyoming Territory to locate Kiera Alden on behalf of her family. I’ve been informed by the main office that Miss Alden’s sister Edith is on her way from San Francisco as I speak.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Kiera sat with an astonished thump. Edith is coming here? From San Francisco? What was she doing there, and how did she know that I need her?

  Richter paled visibly. “Let me see those papers.”

  Boyd approached the judge’s table and laid the papers on the flat surface but did not release them.

  Edith is coming. That news was so welcome, yet so unbelievable that Kiera lost her breath. She had to tell Ev. Where was he?

  “I assure you, Judge Richter,” said the colonel, “I’ve examined those papers thoroughly, and they are authentic.”

  “Impossible!” The judge shoved the sheets back at Boyd. “Bah! Legitimate or not, this man’s employment by the Pinkerton Agency has no bearing on the Wyoming Wildcat’s guilt.”

  “Mr. Alvarez has related to me some very convincing details about the attack on Marshal Quinn and Miss Alden in the Wind River mountains and the reasons for falsely accusing her of these crimes.”

  “Stuff and nonsense! Marshal Quinn presented that faradiddle during his testimony. His tall tale was refuted on every point.”

  “By a witness proven to be a perjurer,” stated Boyd.

  “By a witness who was killed under suspicious circumstances before he was able to offer further testimony and in person discredit the marshal’s deluded statements,” countered Richter.

  The colonel looked taken aback. “Is this true, Mr. Alvarez?”

  Boyd’s expression became grim. “It is true that the perjured witness, Davis, was killed during a gunfight before he could be recalled to the stand. That doesn’t make his testimony any less false. Even the complainant, Big Si Van Demer — the man who shot Davis — agreed that testimony was lies.”

  “Nonsense … ”

  Colonel Brackett waved the judge to silence. “Obviously there is enough doubt surrounding this trial and Miss Alden’s conviction to … ”

  Pounding sounded on the closed doors.

  Kiera’s gaze followed the look Colonel Brackett cast toward the back of the room. “Corporal, find out what that commotion is all about.”

  One of the soldiers slipped out the door. He returned moments later. “Marshal Evrett Quinn and Miss Elise Van Demer wish to enter. They claim to have evidence pertaining to Miss Alden’s trial.”

  “Let them in,” ordered the Colonel. “If they can help to clear things up, so much the better.”

  Miss Van Demer entered, stopping beside Colonel Brackett. Ev followed; he carried Kiera’s battered leather packet of photographs. He positioned himself so he could speak to the colonel but keep his eyes fixed on Kiera. His smiling glance met hers, and instantly her heart steadied. She’d accept whatever fate offered now that she could see Ev.

  “As I was saying,” stated the colonel, “sufficient question surrounds this trial and Miss Alden’s conviction to warrant a new trial at the very least.”

  “Can’t do that,” exclaimed Judge Richter. “She’s already been convicted.”

  “If a mistrial is declared, a new trial is possible.”

  “I’m judge in this district, and I won’t declare a mistrial.”

  “As the ranking governmental authority in this district, I will declare a mistrial and relieve you of your judicial duties for the duration.”

  “Excuse me, Colonel,” Ev’s voice was calm and strong. “Miss Van Demer and I have evidence that may eliminate the necessity for any retrial.”

  “By all means, then, present your evidence.”

  “Yesterday after the jury was dismissed, I returned to my hotel room to find Miss Van Demer waiting for me. She had this packet of photographs with her. The photographs are images of the horses supposedly stolen by Miss Alden and prove conclusively that the horses belonged to her friend Muh’Weda of the Wind River Shoshone, as he is standing with the horses in several of the pictures. The photographs were made by Miss Alden about a year ago, at least six months before the horses suddenly appeared on Big Si Van Demer’s ranch.” He gave the packet to Colonel Brackett.

  The colonel removed the photographs and paged through them.

  “Miss Van Demer,” he said. “Can you confirm that the animals pictured in these photographs are the same horses your father claimed were stolen by Miss Alden?”

  “Yes, sir. I can also testify you that the person who shot Sheriff Sam Boswell is my father, because I saw him do it. I also saw him talking with Judge Richter and heard them discuss bribes that my father had given the judge and the prosecuting attorney to guarantee that Miss Alden was found guilty and sentenced to hang.”

  “You realize the seriousness of these statements?” asked the colonel. “If convicted, the judge and prosecutor would certainly go to prison. Your father could be sent to prison or hung.”

  “That would be up to a judge and jury, Colonel. However, Miss Alden should not be required to pay for my father’s sins, nor should Judge Richter and the prosecutor profit from such a miscarriage of justice.”

  “Do you have any evidence to support your statements, Miss Van Demer?”

  “Why else would my father bribe the judge
and the prosecutor to make certain that Miss Alden was convicted and hung?”

  The colonel looked at the judge. “Is this true?”

  “Ye … No, of course not.”

  “Hmm,” muttered the colonel. “Why do I have my doubts? Sergeant, take Judge Richter into custody, and send men to the hotel to escort Mr. Van Demer to this building.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Immediately, four soldiers surrounded the judge while four others left for the hotel.

  “You can’t do this! I’m innocent, I tell you.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, Judge, you’ll keep quiet.”

  The judge fell silent.

  “Excuse me, Colonel, Miss Alden could not possibly have shot Sheriff Boswell,” interjected Ev and Muh’Weda almost in unison.

  The Colonel raised both brows. “Why not?”

  Eyes full of love and lips tilted up, Ev looked at Kiera, “Because she can’t hit any target farther away than three feet.”

  “In addition, she was with me at the Van Demer corral.”

  The colonel ignored Muh’Weda. “Can you prove that business about firing a weapon?”

  “Only if you’re willing to accept a demonstration,” replied Ev.

  “What would keep her from deliberately missing the target?”

  “Well, you could repeat the test several times and under different circumstances, but I think you’ll be convinced with the first try.”

  “All right. Let’s take this outside to a safe place.”

  As one, the crowd left the building and re-assembled behind Kiera near the stable at the far end of town. Muh’Weda marked a target on the side of the stable while the stable hand moved the horses to safety. Then her friend went to join Kiera, Colonel Brackett, Boyd, and Ev who stood about four feet away, facing the target.

  “Since I’m certain my pistol shoots true, I want Miss Alden to use it.” The colonel pulled his revolver from his holster and handed it to Kiera.

  The men stepped back. Kiera took up a firing position, facing the target. The gun gripped in both hands, she raised the weapon to shoulder height. As had happened on every occasion since that horrifying night in San Francisco, her hands began to shake. Her fingers twitched at the memory of the loud bang that came when Madam Duval’s finger had pressed down on Kiera’s and the gun had fired. The same chill washed over her that had flooded her when she saw the blood trickle from the hole in Herbert’s forehead and he’d fallen over dead.