A Love to Cherish (18 page)

Rogan cleared his throat. “There are witnesses willing to testify in court that you broke into McAllister’s home last night and threatened him in their hearing. He had you thrown bodily from his house. You had to be angry enough to kill. Admit it, there was bad blood between you. The gun that killed McAllister is similar to the one you carried last night, in fact, it
is
the same gun, isn’t it, Mrs. McAllister? You broke into his house and killed him.”

He had thrust his face so close to hers she could smell tobacco smoke on his breath and count the tiny hairs growing out of his nose.

He gripped her shoulders hurtfully. “Confess, Mrs. McAllister, and save us all a lot of anguish.”

“No, I didn’t do it, I swear!” Belle cried, twisting from his grasp. “You can’t make me confess to a crime I didn’t commit. All I’m guilty of is trying to frighten Mr. McAllister into letting me see my son. The gun wasn’t even loaded. I dumped the bullets before I entered the house.”

“If that’s the way you want it, Mrs. McAllister, then so be it. But you should know that the grounds were searched and no gun or bullets were found. Clancy,” he barked, summoning his deputy.

The door opened immediately, admitting Officer Clancy. “Take Mrs. McAllister to her cell. We’ll let the judge decide if there is enough evidence to bring her to trial.”

Three days later Belle stood before the judge, listening to Kellerman explain how she had broken into the house and threatened McAllister. Even the nursemaid was brought forward to testify to Belle’s guilt. Belle blanched when they repeated almost word for word the threats she had issued to their boss. During the hearing, the bad blood that existed between her and her father-in-law was outlined in detail by McAllister’s lawyer. The same man who had drawn up the papers in which McAllister had disinherited his son, and more recently petitioned the judge for custody of Tommy on McAllister’s behalf.

When Belle was finally allowed to speak, her claim of innocence was scoffed at. The judge had already made up his mind to hold her over for trial. The charge was first-degree murder.

Adding to Belle’s grief was her concern over Tommy’s welfare. When she voiced that concern, the judge ruled that Tommy would be sent to an orphanage. He would reside at Saint Francis until a new guardian was appointed.

C
asey waited outside the gate of Yuma Territorial Prison for his brother to appear. He had arrived in Yuma in time for the trial and briefing by Mark’s lawyer. The witness to the shooting had been a traveling salesman passing through town, who hadn’t even known he was wanted to testify in Mark’s trial. A timid man, the drummer had become frightened after witnessing the shooting and hopped the next stage out of town.

He’d learned he was being sought after reading an ad placed in newspapers and flyers throughout Arizona, and in large cities located all over the West. The reward mentioned convinced Duell Brickley to return to Yuma. Plenty of opportunists in search of a fast buck had showed up in answer to the ad, but the barkeep where the fatal game and shooting occurred identified Brickley as the missing witness. Casey thanked God he’d had the money to offer as a reward, but he still felt a twinge of guilt for the way it had been obtained. Not even the fact that he hadn’t betrayed Belle to McAllister served to ease his conscience.

Casey was anxious to return to San Francisco. Since his arrival in Yuma an uneasiness had settled over him. Call it a premonition, call it a warning, whatever it was Casey knew it involved Belle and Tommy. He felt it now, a heavy weight pressing against his heart. His fears were confirmed that morning when he had received a mysterious telegram from Naomi. It said little except that Belle needed him, and it was imperative that he return to San Francisco as quickly as possible.

Casey thought of Belle and their tumultuous parting a few weeks ago, and wondered if she had forgiven him yet. Not likely, he decided. Until Tommy was with her again she’d never let Casey into her life. He had forced a response from her body but her mind was dead set against him. She had been so desperate he prayed she hadn’t done anything foolish in his absence.

Suddenly Casey heard a metallic clang that could mean only one thing, and his thoughts returned to the present. This was the day Casey had been waiting for. The day Mark was to be released from prison. Casey saw him now, standing outside the gate, looking pale and wan, but free, oh, God, free at last. Casey’s smile widened as he dismounted and slapped Mark on the back. Then he hugged him exuberantly. Once Mark realized he was standing outside the gate, and that the guards in the tower were paying no attention to him, he whooped jubilantly and returned Casey’s hug with equal vigor.

“Let’s get back to the hotel,” Casey said, handing Mark the reins of the horse he had rented in town. “We need to make plans for the future.”

The short ride back to town was accomplished mostly in silent appreciation as Mark drank in the sights and sounds of nature and freedom. He breathed deeply of the clean air, remarked on the clear blue of the sky and majesty of the mountains. Casey smiled to himself, never having heard Mark wax poetic about anything in his life, except maybe a beautiful woman.

Back in their hotel room Casey began pacing. “Something’s on your mind, Casey, what is it?” Mark asked. “You haven’t mentioned the case you were working on in San Francisco. Is it resolved?”

“Not by a long shot,” Casey said, stopping before Mark. “I have to return. The sooner the better, and I want you to come with me.”

Mark smiled, displaying a dimple in his chin identical to Casey’s. “Why? I promise not to get into trouble again. I learned my lesson, brother.”

“There is nothing here for you, Mark. We sold the house Pa left us to pay for your lawyers. You’ve no job, no money to speak of …”

“I have a couple hundred dollars saved. I lost my job at the newspaper office but there are other jobs to be had out there. Why must you return to San Francisco?”

“Sit down, Mark. If you’re considering coming with me it’s only right that you know. Here, read this,” he said, removing the crumpled telegram from his pocket and handing it to Mark.

Mark read the telegram with a growing curiosity spreading across his face.

“Who in the hell is Naomi?”

“The madam of a popular brothel.”

Mark gave Casey a wicked grin. “And Belle?
Don’t tell me she’s one of Naomi’s stable of girls. I’ve never known you to get involved with whores. Is she part of this case you’re working on?”

“In a way. I was paid a generous bonus by a wealthy wine grower to find his grandson. Belle is the boy’s mother. She had disappeared with her son after her husband’s death.”

“You found them, I take it. To my knowledge you’ve always found your man … or woman. So what happened? I assume there is more to it than you’re telling me.”

“McAllister described Belle as a whore who tricked his son into marriage. He claimed she was a hard-hearted, cold-blooded mercenary and an unfit mother. It didn’t take long to track Belle down. She was nothing like McAllister described.”

“Sounds interesting. Go on.”

Casey left out nothing, including the guilt he felt for making love to Belle while her son was being abducted. “The note McAllister’s men left was meant to punish me for taking his money and refusing to deliver his grandson. His men followed me to Placerville and found Tommy anyway. It’s my fault for not being more careful. I should have covered my tracks and not taken McAllister for granted. I misjudged him.”

“If Belle was the loving mother you described, I suppose she was devastated to lose her son.”

“You can’t begin to know how much. We both tried to seek a compromise with McAllister, but he had been given sole custody of the boy and refused to allow Belle visitation rights. Before I left I asked Belle not to do anything foolish. To trust me to find a solution. But she doesn’t trust me. She believes I betrayed her. She hates me, Mark, and that hurts.”

Mark searched Casey’s face, realizing just how devastated his brother was by Belle’s rejection and his part in creating it. It was unlike Casey to become personally involved in a case. “If Belle hated you like you say I’m surprised she’d let you make love to her.” His astute observation made little impression on Casey.

“I was too experienced for her. I seduced her both times. And now this telegram.” He waved it in front of Mark. “I’m leaving on the next stage and I’d like you to come with me.”

“You care about this woman, don’t you, Casey? This goes far deeper than simply wanting to help her.”

Casey began pacing again. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman, Mark. Did I mention Belle is lame? She was injured as a child and didn’t receive proper treatment for her injury. But her deformity doesn’t diminish her beauty. She’s truly lovely, in both body and spirit. I’ve always been a cynic when it came to … to matters of the heart, but my feelings for Belle are too unsettling to ignore. All I know is that Belle is in trouble and I’m not there to help her. It’s killing me. I have to help her. I need to learn if what I feel for her is real or merely a passing fancy.”

Mark gave Casey a cocky grin. “You’re not the type to indulge in passing fancies, brother. Your tale intrigues me. How could I not go with you when you’ve tickled my imagination so thoroughly? I want to meet this Belle and decide if she’s worthy of my brother. This time it’s my turn to help a brother in trouble. I know you can’t have much money left after paying my lawyers and the witness, but if we pool our money we can find comfortable quarters in
San Francisco while I look for a job. I can see you need me, Casey, and I want to be there for you.”

The stage rolled to a stop and discharged its dusty, tired passengers at the Wells Fargo depot. Casey and Mark were the last to step down. They made their way to a modest hotel, reserved two rooms, then went directly to a bathhouse to clean up. An hour later, they were on their way to Naomi’s Pleasure Parlor, freshly bathed and shaved and wearing clean clothes. Neither Casey nor Mark had eaten, but Casey promised Mark a substantial meal after he had spoken to Belle and discovered the nature of the trouble she had gotten herself into.

A maid answered the door and ushered the men inside. The parlor was already buzzing with activity and Mark eyed the girls appreciatively as Casey located the madam across the room, talking to one of the customers. Naomi spied Casey almost at the same moment he saw her. Naomi excused herself and made her way unerringly to Casey.

“Thank God you’re here. I’m so worried about Belle.”

Alarm raced through Casey. He could tell by the panic in Naomi’s eyes that things were even more serious than he had suspected.

“Where is Belle?”

“It’s a tragedy, that’s what it is,” Naomi wailed. “I feel so damn helpless.”

Casey gnashed his teeth in frustration. He grasped the madam’s shoulders and gave her a not-so-gentle shake. “Dammit, Naomi, tell me what happened.”

“They took her away. She didn’t do it, Casey, I’d stake my life on it.”

“Who took her away? You’re not making sense.”

“Belle is in jail, awaiting trial for murder. I’ve hired a lawyer but the defense is shaky at best. There are witnesses who saw and heard Belle threaten McAllister.”

Casey blanched. “Are you saying that McAllister is dead and Belle is charged with his murder?” Christ! He’d just gone through this with his brother. “That’s absurd.”

“Come into the office,” Belle said, “it’s too public here.” She cast a furtive glance at Mark, then looked askance at Casey.

“This is my brother, Mark,” Casey said. “Mark, meet Naomi.”

Naomi nodded absently, too upset for polite greetings.

“Go with Naomi, Casey,” Mark said when he noted the madam’s impatience to get Casey alone. “I’ll wait out here.” He scanned the parlor, his gaze settling on a curvaceous blonde with a girlish face standing by the piano. “I’ve been in jail a long time,” he continued, “maybe I’ll just …”

Naomi noted the direction of Mark’s gaze and gave a throaty laugh. “That’s Sweet Sue. Tell her I said to show you a good time, it’s on the house.”

Casey didn’t wait around to see if Mark took Naomi up on her generosity for the madam literally dragged him into her office. The minute the door latched behind them, Naomi broke down, her face contorted in anguish.

“Belle took my gun, Casey. I didn’t even know she had it. She broke into McAllister’s house and threatened to kill him unless she was allowed to see Tommy.”

Casey groaned in dismay. “Why didn’t she wait? I told her I’d come back and help her.”

“She doesn’t trust you, Casey, you know that. She blames you for losing Tommy. In a way you can’t blame her. You
did
work for McAllister.”

“You know I didn’t lead that bastard to Tommy,” Casey snarled.

“I believe it, but try convincing Belle. But none of that matters now,” Naomi said, wringing her hands. “We’ve got to do something to help Belle. You should see her, Casey, she’s given up. It’s downright pitiful. I try to see her every day, bring her clean clothes and little delicacies she doesn’t get in jail. But it’s as if she doesn’t care what happens to her anymore.”

The sharp pain inside Casey was the feeling of his heart breaking. He wanted to rush to the jailhouse, tear the place apart with his bare hands, and set Belle free. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”

Naomi related everything she knew, including what Belle had told her during their brief visits. When she finished, he whirled on his heel and headed for the door, his face grim with determination.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Belle.”

“You can’t. Visiting hours ended at six o’clock. The sheriff won’t let you in to see her.”

A sudden, disturbing thought occurred to Casey. “What happened to Tommy?”

Naomi directed her gaze at the floor. There was a catch in her voice when she said, “He’s been placed in St. Francis Orphanage until the court sees fit to appoint a guardian. He’s a mighty rich little boy. I
tried to talk the judge into awarding custody to me until the murder is resolved one way or another but,” she shrugged expansively, “you know who and what I am. The judge wouldn’t hear of it.”