Beverly Jenkins (35 page)

Chase and the sheriff thanked him. They walked the rain-muddied streets back to Polk’s office. After a discussion of the options available, they decided to wire Laura’s description to the Federal marshal in Wichita. Chase also wired his commanding
officer requesting leave so he could protect his wife until Sutton was found.

The next two weeks were filled with a series of mishaps in and around Virginia Sutton’s properties. It began with a fire in the mercantile one night. The volunteer bucket brigade was able to bring the blaze under control, but not before most of the contents were damaged. It inconvenienced everyone in town when the place had to be closed down for repairs, but there’d been no loss of life, so folks didn’t grumble very loudly.

The next incident happened two days later. One of the wheels on Virginia’s carriage came loose as she and her driver were returning home. In the resulting crash both she and her man were thrown from the vehicle and injured. Sheriff Polk said the wheel bolts had been sawn through.

Cara went to see her the next day to bring her some books to read during her recuperation.

“How’re you feeling?” Cara asked as Virginia, hobbling with the aid of a cane, led the way to the study. Her face was covered with the bruises she’d gotten in the fall. She moved as if each step was painful. “I have been better, believe me. That damn Miles.”

Cara opened the door to the study and they went in and sat down.

“You think Miles had something to do with your accident yesterday?”

Virginia set her cane against her chair. “Of course he did. He set the fire in the mercantile, slashed the throats of my mousers in the barn. Oh, yes, it’s Miles. I’d bet every bit of railroad stock I own.”

“Why are you so sure?

“I’ve seen this before. When he was younger,
he hurt things—cats, the horses—especially when he was angry about something. The year he turned fourteen I refused to let him send to Mexico City for an expensive saddle he’d wanted very much. We’d had a poor crop of cotton the year before, and I needed every penny for seed. I told him he could have the saddle the following year, but he didn’t want to wait and stormed out. The next morning two dogs that I truly loved were found poisoned. Their bodies were on the front porch.”

Cara shook her head sadly.

“To this day,” Virginia continued, “I believe he killed those dogs. Oh, I asked him about it, and he denied it, but something in his eyes . . . I never attached myself to another animal after that. So, yes, it’s Miles. I know it is.”

“What did Delbert say about your ankle?”

“Broken. He said to stay off it. I doubt I can. Too many things to do. Speaking of which, I’ve done something you may or may not approve of.”

Cara observed her quizzically.

“I’m leaving my money to you. All the money my son thinks should be his.”

Cara stared. “Why?”

“Because you’ll do good with it. Miles will spend it on women and drink. I didn’t work all these years to have my money spent on harlots.”

“Virginia, I can’t accept your money.”

“I really don’t care what you can or cannot accept, Cara. I made the decision months ago. In spite of all the hell I put you through, you were still decent enough to teach me how to read. Do you know what that has been worth to me? It’s more valuable than anything I ever owned. And I own quite a lot.”

Cara shook her head. “No. I can’t accept.”

“I told you it’s too late to decline. And the reason I’m telling you now is in case something happens to me. Miles isn’t going to be content to just walk away. I’ve hired additional security staff because he’s broken into the house.”

Cara was shocked. “Were you here?”

“No, I wish I had been. Everyone was at the school raising that day.”

“How do you know it wasn’t some drifter?”

“Every room in the house had been turned upside down except the room he used when he was here.”

Cara wondered if Miles had become so desperate he hadn’t realized how obvious it was to leave his room untouched. Or maybe he wanted his mother to know he’d ransacked her home. “Was he looking for money?”

“Probably, but he found only the pin money I keep in a sugar bowl for the cook. I’m sure it made him furious. The next day the cats were killed.”

“Have you told the sheriff?”

“No.”

“Why not? Virginia, he should know.”

“I know, but Miles is my son. It’s hard to turn your back on your child, even a child like Miles. At first, maybe I was hoping he’d come to his senses. Not anymore. I have only to look at these bruises on my face to know how serious this has become.”

“So you will tell Sheriff Polk?”

Virginia nodded.

Cara returned home later that same afternoon, but Chase was nowhere to be found. She did find a note he’d left for her on the kitchen table saying he’d gone to town to check the mail. Cara looked
at the time he’d written on his note and compared it to the clock above the fireplace. He’d been gone a little over an hour. It was nearly dinnertime, so she started to cook.

When he came in she had just taken the last of the cornmeal cakes out of the skillet. She put a bit of butter on each of the small golden rounds of bread and covered them with a lid so they’d stay hot.

“Was there mail?”

“Yep. There’s a letter here for you from William.”

Cara wiped her hands on her apron and took the envelope. She smiled and stuck it into her apron pocket to read later.

“How’s the Black Widow?” Chase asked, pausing to give her a kiss before going on through the kitchen and out the back door to the pump behind the house.

Cara followed. “She broke her ankle. You should see her face. It’s covered with bruises. She thinks Miles is responsible for all the problems she’s been having.”

Chase wiped the water from his face and looked up. “Why?”

Cara told him of the incidents Virginia had related.

“I can see why she would think that,” Chase said after hearing the story. “Are you certain she’s going to tell the sheriff?”

“I think she will. The coach accident made her realize how serious the situation has become. I think it scared her.”

“Well, when I go into town tomorrow, I’ll be sure to let Polk know anyway. She probably isn’t going to be doing much traveling if her ankle’s
broken. She might not get to town for a few days. What do you think?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.”

After Chase related Virginia’s information to the sheriff, they stepped up the search. For the following three days, Chase and the sheriff spent every waking hour in the saddle trying to track down Miles Sutton. They talked to people, chased rumors, and searched every deserted soddy and shack for miles around with no result.

Chase came home on the evening of the third day, tired and frustrated.

“We’ve turned over every damn rock in three counties and he hasn’t crawled out yet,” he told Cara angrily as they lay in bed. “We’re not looking in the right place.”

“Chase, you’re doing as much as you can.”

“Something’s going to happen. I can feel it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes on the trail you get a sense like this. Something in your gut signals danger ahead. I’ve had that feeling all day.”

He turned over and looked at her. “I want you to pack some things in the morning and go into town and stay with Sophie or the Spinsters until this is done.”

“Why?”

“Because when I’m gone, I worry about you. I can’t look for Sutton and be here to watch over you.”

“Chase—”

“Cara Lee, please. Don’t fight me on this. I’ll feel much better knowing you’re safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you, darlin’.”

Cara wanted to argue with him. Lord knew she did, but he couldn’t do his job if he was worried
about her. She could understand that. “I’ll pack first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you. I promise you won’t have to stay in town long.”

“It better not be long,” she whispered, leaning over to give him a kiss, “because when I’m away from home it’s going to be real hard for you to get peach cobbler and real real hard to get this . . .”

Sometime later, a thoroughly loved and sated Chase closed his eyes with a smile. His last thoughts as he drifted into sleep were a vow to get his wife back home as soon as possible. He could do without her peach cobbler for a time, but not this . . .

So Cara moved back into Sophie’s boarding-house to Chase’s old room. Everyone was glad to see her, though they wished the circumstances were different.

Cara dropped her carpetbag into a chair and walked over to the open window. The curtains flapped in the breeze. On Main Street people were going about their errands. The town looked and felt different to Cara. Nothing had changed, really, but this was no longer her home. Her home was with Chase outside of town.

She turned away and surveyed the room. It hadn’t changed, either. The finely appointed room with its highly polished furnishings bore no evidence that a dark-eyed, mustached cavalry soldier had ever slept here, but Cara had little trouble conjuring up that wicked grin, or remembering how he’d looked walking toward her that night . . . tall, naked, and splendidly ready. He’d been in much the same condition last night. She’d left the house that morning aching with the erotic rememberings of the caress of his
strong callused hands, his bone-melting kisses, and the shameless way she had begged to be filled again and again.

Smiling, she pushed the thoughts away, unpacked, and joined Sophie and Dulcie in the kitchen. Sophie wanted Cara to talk about the mess with Miles. Dulcie wanted Cara to peel carrots. Cara did both.

She passed the afternoon with them, discussing theories about where Miles might be, and where the elusive Miss Pope fit into the puzzle. When dinner was ready, Cara took hers in the kitchen with Dulcie. Sophie went off to her suite of rooms to have her dinner with Asa as she did every night.

“How are you and Chase doing?” Dulcie asked.

Cara smiled.

“I see the grin,” Dulcie said approvingly. “You two must be doing well.”

“Yes,” Cara admitted, pleased. “We are.”

“I knew things would work out once you came to your senses.”

Chase charged into the kitchen, looking around wildly. When he spotted Cara, he seemed to calm down. “Oh, Cara, thank God. I was so worried—”

“Chase, what’s wrong?”

“Virginia’s been shot.”

Cara and Dulcie both jumped to their feet. “Is she alive?” Cara asked.

“Yes. Delbert’s with her now out at the house. It’s pretty serious.”

“When did this happen?”

“A few hours ago. Cara, you need to come with me. Virginia’s asking for you. The doc doesn’t know how long she’s got.”

On the ride Chase told her what he knew of
Virginia’s shooting. A child in the area had delivered a note to Virginia the previous evening. It was from Miles, stating he wanted to turn himself in to the authorities. He asked Virginia to meet him alone at a spot outside Nicodemus so he could discuss it with her. Virginia went to the field and took only her driver. Miles never showed. On the way back, however, she came across a woman walking down the road. The woman said her father was badly hurt about a mile off, and she was on her way to Nicodemus to get help. Virginia was talking to the woman when Miles walked out of the sunflower field with a gun in his hand.

“The woman was Laura Pope, right?” Cara asked.

“From the description Virginia gave of her, we’re pretty certain it was.”

“Why did he shoot Virginia?”

“Well, Miles ordered her and the driver down from the carriage, took the driver’s firearm, handed it to the woman, then gave the driver the choice of either walking or dying. The driver chose life and took off down the road.”

“Leaving Virginia alone with Miles and Laura.”

“Exactly.”

“What happened next?”

“They argued. Miles demanded money. She told him no. He stuck his gun in her face, she hit him with her cane, and the woman, Laura Pope, probably, shot her.”

“Laura Pope shot her? My Lord.”

“She probably panicked. When the driver heard the shots, he ran back. Miles and Laura were gone, and Virginia was bleeding on the ground.”

* * *

At Virginia’s house, they were ushered in by a somber Frances, who showed them to the room where Virginia lay on the bed. Delbert and the sheriff were also in the room.

Delbert approached and said softly, “Thanks for coming, Cara. She doesn’t have long, so be easy with her.”

Cara approached the bed. The others hung back to give her some privacy.

Virginia’s skin was as pale as vellum. She opened her eyes and whispered, “You came. I knew you would. Looks like you’re going to be a very rich lady, Cara Jefferson.”

“Virginia—”

“Shh,” she whispered. “I don’t have much time. My solicitors in St. Louis have already received the changes in my will. Have a good life, Cara. Thank you.” She closed here eyes. Two hours later, she died.

Cara wore black to the funeral the next day. A uniformed Chase, Asa, Delbert, and Sheriff Polk served as pallbearers. They buried Virginia in the cemetery outside town, and the Reverend Whitfield spoke the words as they lowered her into the ground.

Cara and Chase returned to the room at Sophie’s after the short service. Cara tossed her hat on a chair and said sadly, “She didn’t deserve to be murdered like that, Chase.”

“No, darlin’, she didn’t. Come here . . .”

Cara went into his arms and he held her tight.

He kissed her hair and whispered, “The day she was shot, I just knew he was coming for you next. I was so glad to see you sitting in the kitchen with Dulice.”

Cara badly needed his strength and his love.

“Lucretia was right,” he said. “You are my grand passion, schoolmarm. If anything were to happen to you . . .”

Cara looked up at him. “It won’t. You won’t let it. And neither will I.” She raised up on her toes and kissed him. “I want to change clothes.”

Cara took off her funeral dress and substituted a somber gray shirtwaist that buttoned down the back. There was a memorial dinner being held at the hotel. Virginia had made many enemies over the years, but no one would have wished her such a tragic and senseless death.