Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) (17 page)

“I went out for breakfast this morning. When I returned home I was greeted by the Galveston Chief of Police and another officer. They told me I was under arrest. It took some cajoling on my part before they would even tell me what I was being arrested for.

“They both acted like I was naïve to question them. They treated my inquiries as a joke. They were convinced I knew exactly what I was being charged with. Considering the plans I had for today, you can imagine my shock not only at the news of his murder, but that I was being charged with it.”

“I don’t understand. With all the shenanigans Smith was involved in, why would they assume you killed him?”

Hunter tapped a cadence on the table with his index finger, his nervous gesture the only indication that he sat in a jail charged with murder. “Shortly after I recognized Smith as the man who shot and killed my father, I visited the Galveston Police and spoke with this Officer Mallory who was with the Chief when I was arrested. I told him my story, but he gave me a hard time.

“When I named Smith as the man who’d killed my father, Mallory all but threw me out of the station, claiming Smith was much too big in the town to be considered for an eighteen-year-old bank robbery and murder.”

Jeremy was beginning to see where this was headed. “Did your temper get the best of you?”

“Somewhat. I didn’t threaten Smith, but I indicated I would see that justice was served. Mallory took that as a threat and warned me to not
take the law into my own hands
.”

Jeremy let out with a low whistle. “Do they know of your connection to Emily?”

“I don’t think so. At least they haven’t said anything about that to me yet.”

“You know that will come out.”

“Of course it will. Her driver, Martin, caught us trying to leave Guthrie, and her dressmaker, Millie, has been covering for her so we could spend time together. These police are not dumb. Once they uncover that relationship, they will start building the hanging platform.”

“My friend, you are in trouble.”

Hunter leaned forward. “I sent for my Uncle Jesse. He’s an attorney and territorial senator in Oklahoma. If anyone can get me out of this mess, it’s him. But in the meantime, I need you to step up the investigation on Smith. Find out who else had a reason to see him dead. When Jesse gets here, I’m sure he’ll have other ideas, but at least for now I’ll feel like something is being done while I sit here.”

Jeremy studied his friend as he spoke. This could be a dangerous situation for him. His visit to the police station to accuse a prominent citizen of killing his father eighteen years ago was bad enough. But trying to leave town with a man’s wife only a few days before he got himself murdered would give the District Attorney a lot of food for thought.

“I’ve already spoken to a few of his clients who are suspicious of his investments,” Jeremy said. “I also planned to question his secretary. Being there every day, she must know more about the business than her employer would have thought. I find secretaries are usually a good source of information.”

“Thanks. And talk to his partner, too. Name of Sanders. He might know if one of their clients was getting more than a little angry with Smith.” He snapped his fingers. “There’s one more thing.”

Jeremy waited as Hunter seemed to gather his thoughts.

“Try to see Emily. I’m sure she’s in pretty bad shape right now. From what I’ve been told she found Louis’s body, and has also learned that I stand accused of his murder. She has no one to lean on, she’s all alone. There is the funeral to get through, and business dealings with Smith’s partner that she’ll have to handle.”

He pounded his fist on the table, creating enough noise that the door opened and the guard stuck his head in. “Everything all right in here?”

Both men nodded.

“You have another three minutes, Henderson.”

Once the door closed, Hunter said, “Help her, Jeremy. Please. If you can’t do anything else, watch out for her. Since the police aren’t looking beyond me for a suspect, whoever killed Louis could have done it for a reason that puts Emily in danger, too.”

Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory

“Murder?” Tori sat abruptly and stared at Jesse. “Hunter’s been accused of murder? That’s preposterous.”

“Unfortunately in typical telegram style, he gives no further details.” He handed the telegram to her.

Arrested for murder(stop)Please come to Galveston(stop) Hunter

Jesse ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve cleared my calendar for Franklin’s campaign. The case I’m working on now ends with today’s court appearance.”

“If you go to Galveston there goes your efforts with his campaign,” Paul said.

“Yes, I imagine you’re right.” He regarded this son of his on the cusp of manhood. “Tell me, Paul, you know how much I want the governorship for Franklin, and how I hope it will help me in my run for governor next time. What would you do if you were me?”

Paul appeared to give the question considerable thought. “I would go to Galveston.”

Jesse smiled. “Good boy. That’s precisely what I’m going to do. Remember, family always comes first.”

“Shall I go with you?” Tori asked.

“No. I have no idea what I’m walking into down there. This might be a simple matter that’s already cleared up before I even get there. Or, it could take a great deal of time to iron out. You’re needed here with the children.”

They walked out of the dining room together. Tori watched as Jesse checked his appearance in the small mirror in the hallway. “Will this really end you working on the campaign?”

He took his Homburg from the hat rack and leaned his shoulder against the wall, twirling the hat in his hands. “I’m afraid so. Even if it turns out to be nothing, you can bet whoever’s been feeding information to the newspaper will grab onto this one.” He shook his head. “Murder.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted to be involved in this.” She brushed a speck of lint from his jacket.

“I do. There’s no denying that. But I also want my family to be happy and healthy. That will always come first.”

“You are an amazing man, Jesse Cochran.” She raised up on her toes and kissed him. Jesse wrapped his arms around her and took the kiss deeper.

“Will you two please stop that!” Fifteen-year-old Priscilla hurried down the stairs and flew past them. “It is
so
embarrassing.”

They broke apart and grinned. Jesse settled his hat on his head and giving Tori a chaste peck on the cheek, left the house.

Chapter 17

Galveston, Texas

“Mrs. Smith, the Police Chief and another officer are here and wish to speak with you.” Martin, who had taken over front door duties with all the callers in the last two days, regarded her with the cool disdain he’d shown toward her ever since Louis’s death.

Murder.
She shuddered every time she thought of that word.

It had been a horrible two days. The only thing she could compare it to was the death of her parents. But then she’d had Louis to lean on. As a friend of her father’s, he’d swept right in and took over everything. She’d been so grateful at the time. And look where that had gotten her.

No more trusting a man to solve everything for her. She cared a great deal for Hunter and welcomed his help, but there would always be a part of her that she held back. Never again would she place her complete trust in anyone else.

“I will see them, Martin. And please ask Cook to send in coffee and tea.”

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She must appear saddened, not nervous. She schooled her features into the proper expression just as they entered the room. “Good morning, officers. Please have a seat.”

The men once again looked askance at the furniture offerings in the room, but eventually settled on two of the sturdiest looking chairs.

The Chief cleared his throat. “Good morning, Mrs. Smith. We hate to bother you at this difficult time, but we have a few questions we need to ask.” Once again he licked his thumb and flipped through the pages of his notebook.

Not yet sure of her voice, she nodded.

“Yesterday when we were here, I understand you were overwrought at the time, but I want to question you on something that has come to our attention.”

Nod.

“When we mentioned who we were about to arrest for Mr. Smith’s murder, you fainted.”

She licked her lips. “It was a terrible day, sir.”

“Yes, yes. I agree. Terrible time. Which is why we allowed your maid to attend to you and decided we would return another day to question you further.” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. “Do you know Hunter Henderson, Mrs. Smith?”

Well, then. There was certainly no beating around the bush for the Chief. He waded right into deep waters. Waters that were about to drown Hunter.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” She wiped the sweat from her upper lip. Where was the tea and coffee? She needed a distraction.

“You don’t say?” He glanced at Officer Mallory who smirked.

“According to our notes,” the Chief said, “Mr. Henderson spent the last ten years wandering Texas as a Ranger. Then after leaving the service he returned to Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory where his family lives.” He looked up from his notebook. “Given his background, how is it you know him?”

Oh, God. Here it comes.

She drew herself up, using all the dignity she was able to muster. “We met in Guthrie.”

Although she had the feeling the Chief already knew that, he raised his eyebrows, pretending surprise. “When were you in Guthrie?”

“I was there for a few months earlier this year.”

“Visiting family, I assume?”

“No.”

“Friends, then?”

“No.”

He continued to stare at her, obviously waiting for her to elaborate. Since he would find out anyway, there didn’t seem to be any point in refusing to answer his unasked question. “I lived in Guthrie for a few months working as a Harvey House girl.”

The chief sat back, aping disbelief. Everything in his eyes said he already knew the answers to the questions.
Smart police officer—ask questions you already know the answers to.
Or was that for attorneys?

“And Mr. Smith approved of this? I was under the impression the Harvey House only hired single women.”

“I felt the need to get away.”

“From Galveston? Or your husband?”

“Both.”

“How ‘close’ were you and Mr. Henderson?”

“We were friends.”

“Seems odd to me that a ‘friend’ would show up in a married woman’s town once her husband escorted her back to her home.”

So, they already knew about Louis dragging her back. There wasn’t any need to wonder who gave them those details, since Martin came to mind immediately. He’d better have saved money over the years because he was about to be fired.

“He was concerned for my welfare.”

“Is that right? Care to explain that, Mrs. Smith?”

The door to the sitting room opened and Martin carried in a tray with coffee, tea, and cookies. Grateful to have something else to focus on, she instructed Martin where to place the tray and offered coffee and tea to the policemen.

They refused.

“As I was saying, Mrs. Smith. Can you explain why Mr. Henderson was concerned for your welfare?”

In the three years of her marriage, the only person she’d ever spoken with about her beatings was Hunter. Millie and Maria, having seen her undressed, most likely suspected, but the words had never come from her mouth until Hunter. She’d always felt embarrassed about it, as if it were her fault. Even now she felt dirty as she tried to form the words. “My husband beat me.”

To her absolute horror, both men glanced at each other and chuckled. “Mrs. Smith, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

She stared at them with her mouth open. “You don’t believe me?” Several times she had thought about going to the police, but didn’t want to call attention to herself, or embarrass Louis, thinking it would only enrage him further. But never had she thought they wouldn’t believe her. Of course, had she dragged herself to the police station after a beating there would be no question.

“No, I don’t believe you, and even if I did, what happens between a husband and his wife is not police business.”

Anger flared in her as blood rushed to her face so quickly she was afraid her head would burst. She fisted her hands at her side and stood. “Get out.”

Now it was their turn to look genuinely surprised. “Excuse me?” the Chief said.

“Am I being charged with anything?”

“No. We’re only looking for more information.”

“Then look elsewhere. If I am not being charged with a crime, then I refuse to answer any more questions.” She walked to the sitting room door and flung it open. “Martin!”

The man came scurrying. “Yes, Mrs. Smith.”

“Show the officers out.” She brushed past him and raced up the stairs, her heart pounding so hard she felt as if it would burst from her throat.

“Henderson.” Hunter looked over from where he studied the crack in the ceiling above his bunk, to the guard who stood holding his jail cell door open. “They want you.”

He stood and followed the guard past other cells, the occupants cursing and spitting as he walked by. He’d been in many jails over the years, but never as a guest. He just needed to hold himself together until Jesse got here. There was never any doubt in his mind that his uncle wouldn’t come. Even though Hunter had been away for years, he always knew Jesse was the rock that kept the family together. In times of need he’d always been there when they were lost and alone.

Like now.

Several times over the years he’d chastised himself for not confiding in his uncle about his father’s death. The time had never seemed right, and no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t get his mouth to form the words.

At the end of the hallway the guard opened a wooden door and waved him in. Police Chief Grafton sat behind a small desk. He had a notebook open in front of him. “Take a seat, Henderson.”

He settled in, not at all enjoying the look of pure joy on the Chief’s face as he shifted a toothpick back and forth in his mouth.

“How well do you know Mrs. Emily Smith?”

If the Chief was looking for a surprised reaction from him, he wasn’t going to get it. He knew they would flush out their relationship. It had only been a matter of time. “We’re friends.”

The Chief consulted his notes. “You met her in Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory, is that right?”

“Yes.” Hunter glanced around the room as the chief wrote in his notebook. All interrogation rooms looked the same. Dull, dismal, and depressing.

“She was a married woman when you met her?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know that.”

The blasted man raised his eyebrows. “She never told you that?”

“No.”

“And you never thought to ask?”

Keep your answers simple. The more you talk, the more trouble you get yourself into.

“No.”

“When did you learn she was married?”

“When I arrived in Galveston.”

This line of questioning was no surprise. A murder investigation was nothing, if not thorough. Except in this case they were only focusing on him. And since he didn’t kill Smith, they were allowing the real murderer to possibly leave the area.

“When you discovered she was married, why didn’t you go back home?”

Hunter raised his eyebrows. “We were friends. Have you never been friends with a married woman?”

“No. And I’ll ask the questions.”

He slumped back in the chair, once more focused on Emily. Hopefully Jeremy was able to keep an eye on her even if he wasn’t able to actually speak with her. She must be swamped with callers, all offering sympathy. He hated that she had no one to turn to. That was the most frustrating part of being in jail. That, and the fact that his hands were tied in trying to conduct his own investigation into Smith’s murder.

“Did you look for a job when you arrived in Galveston?”

“No.”

“How did you expect to live?”

“I have savings.”

“Ah, yes. From when you were a Texas Ranger.”

“That’s right.”

“So you come to Galveston to see your
friend
, Mrs. Smith. You don’t look for a job, so you didn’t plan to stay?”

“No.”

“This was a vacation?”

“You could say that.”

Grafton pushed his notebook aside and leaned both forearms on the table, fiddling with the pencil. “Why did you tell Officer Mallory that Mr. Smith killed your father in a bank robbery eighteen years ago?”

“Because he did.”

“And you told no one about this?”

“I explained to Mallory that I was only thirteen and was never able to speak of it.”

“So, miraculously, the man married to your
friend,
Mrs. Smith turned out to be someone who you felt could be charged with murder, and if found guilty would most likely be hanged?”

Since there didn’t seem to be any answer that would help his cause, he remained silent.

The Chief sighed and leaned back. “Look, son. It will go easier for you if you confess.” He lowered his voice in a man-to-man tone. “I understand—you meet a pretty girl, fall for her, then find out she’s married. She works up sympathy from you by telling you tales about her husband beating her. You try to get the man arrested on trumped up charges. When that doesn’t work you kill him.”

“I did not kill Louis Smith.”

“Then who did?”

“Isn’t that your job, Chief? To find the real killer?”

“I said I would ask the questions, and in my opinion I already have.”

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as they stared at each other. Hunter had used the tactic before himself. The first one who spoke, lost. It wasn’t going to be him.

Finally the Chief closed his notebook. “You can return to your cell.”

He stood and moved to the door. As he opened it the Chief said, “By the way, Henderson, it might interest you to know that a forty-four caliber bullet blew away half of Smith’s head.” When Hunter didn’t speak and kept his back to him, he added, “interesting that all the Texas Rangers use a Walker Colt forty-four. Isn’t it?”

Late Wednesday morning Jesse stepped off the train, going from smoky dimness to bright sunlight. He’d never been to Galveston before and was surprised at the size of the town. For some reason he’d always pictured it a sleepy little beach resort. Not so.

The train station bustled with commuters and tourists alike. Both horse drawn carriages and automobile taxis waited in line to sweep the travelers from the station to their destinations. Jesse waved one down and asked to be taken to a hotel closest to the jail. That caused raised eyebrows.

He gazed out the window as they traversed the area. A lot more traffic, both foot and vehicular, congested the area. Galveston was nothing like he’d expected. Why Hunter ended up here, charged with murder, still confounded him. Hopefully it could be straightened out. He knew in his heart there was no way his nephew would commit murder.

Self-defense? Killing in the course of a criminal’s arrest? Yes. But murder that would land him in jail didn’t fit the young man he’d known, and got to know even better during his recent time with him.

“Here you are, sir. Hotel Landers.” The driver got out of the automobile and opened the door for Jesse. He pointed about two blocks down on the other side of the street. “That’s the jail right there.”

“Thank you.” Jesse paid the man, grabbed his suitcase, and then entered the hotel. A brightly lit, warmly decorated lobby greeted him. Within minutes he’d been handed a key and directed to an elevator. He bypassed the contraption and headed for the stairs. If elevators became popular it would not bode well for society. People were getting lazier every day.