Black Ransom (6 page)

He tried to lighten the mood. He placed the flat of his hand against his wife's slightly bulging tummy. “Baby's doin' just fine,” he said with a smile. “You gotta take care of yourself, honey, for the little one.”

But at the mention of the baby, Melinda's emotions became so overwhelming and painful for Ehron Lee to watch that he finally motioned for Sheriff Leighton to escort her from the jail. Surprisingly, she didn't resist; she understood how difficult this was for her husband. Ehron Lee was grateful she had made the decision to leave without protest.

He had barely collected himself before Abigail calmly rose from her chair and walked over to his cell.

Ehron Lee attempted a smile, but Abigail's expression was cold and rigid. He was familiar with her odd moods, but this was a look of pure contempt.

“Murderer,” she said, her voice barely a whisper though heavy with intent.

Then her pitch rose as she spewed venom.

“Low-down filthy murderer! You never was no good, Ehron Lee Burrows. I saw it right from the start. You fooled everyone else, but you could never fool me . . .”

Ehron Lee recoiled at the accusation. He tried to speak. “Abigail, what are you say—”

She didn't let him finish. “I know the truth. You enjoyed killin', gettin' blood on your hands. The war was good for yuh, Ehron Lee, wasn't it? 'Cause it made yuh what you really are: a killer and a criminal.”

Her body trembled in a barely repressed fury. Ehron Lee just stood there, stunned into silence, unable to respond, scarcely believing any of what he was hearing. It was as if Abigail had become another person, someone hostile and vindictive.

Her thinking was not rational, and as she continued to rant, it was clear that she held Ehron Lee responsible for what had happened to Winston, her emotionally charged accusations doing nothing to assist Ehron Lee's claim of innocence in the eyes of the sheriff, who had rushed back into the office upon hearing her outburst.

Buck Leighton urged Abigail from the office, though she continued to shout her accusations until she was outside on the boardwalk. Buck attempted to quiet her, then when she calmed after a few moments, he came back inside, closing and locking the office door behind him.

“I didn't see your wife outside, Burrows,” he said. “Don't think she heard any of what was goin' on.”

“She—she don't know what she's sayin', Sheriff,” Ehron Lee said numbly. “She's still upset by what happened to Winston.”

“Can you blame her?” Buck said flatly.

Ehron Lee's eyes sparked defensively.

“I ain't guilty of no wrongdoin', Sheriff,” he protested. “Those men that
are
responsible are still out there.”

“You claim you saw those men, Burrows, yet you never gave me much to work with, other than they were both big men, one dressed in buckskins, and that the other fella's name was Tom or Todd or who knows what,” Buck reminded. “'Round these parts, don't exactly make either stand out.”

“It was dark, and their faces were pretty much covered,” Ehron Lee replied wearily, repeating what he'd said countless times before. “Can't tell yuh more than what I saw or what I heard.”

Buck said nothing. He just observed Ehron Lee with a narrow-eyed, considering expression.

Buck Leighton and Ehron Lee were roughly the same age, though the sheriff looked considerably older. His skin was lined, and traces of gray had begun to appear in his curly black hair as well as in his eyebrows. Though it wasn't his place to make character judgments of his prisoners, Buck thought Ehron Lee to be a decent sort, and the few times they did speak, the exchanges were pleasant, if brief. Not that he could be called upon to give an honest assessment of his character. It was also known to Buck that Ehron Lee had fought in the war, and the sheriff had seen enough through his job to understand how the stress and carnage of battle could change a man—and not for the better. Many of those he'd had to arrest, as a lawman in various counties, for both minor and more serious offenses were men who, before the war, had been peaceful, honest citizens. But their wartime experiences had released some dark side of their nature that never before had been given rein. So with that in mind, he couldn't take lightly those accusations thrown at Ehron Lee by his sister-in-law, though he, too, had to admit she was somewhat of a queer, unsettled sort.

Buck felt definite compassion for Ehron Lee's wife, though. Although he was unmarried, he understood how difficult it must be for her, how she would defend her man, even under such damning circumstances. That aside, as each day passed, he began to disapprove of Melinda Burrows coming around the jailhouse so often, given her delicate condition and how upset she got during each visit. In truth, he simply wanted the trial over, so that, for her sake, some conclusion would be reached.

* * *

The morning of the trial, Buck brought Ehron Lee some breakfast. Ehron Lee moved wearily off his bunk and stepped just as slowly toward the bars of his cell. He took one look at the greasy concoction of eggs, ham, and a buttered biscuit and instantly determined that he had neither the stomach nor the inclination to eat. He'd had little interest in food since the day he was arrested, merely picking at the meals provided, leaving most on the tray. His loss of appetite was made evident by how his clothes had started to hang loosely on his frame.

The sheriff had also brought along some coffee. Ehron Lee accepted the beverage, reaching for the tin cup through the bars of the cell. The coffee was cold and strong, and he consumed only a mouthful before handing it back to Buck.

He said little that morning, his thoughts focused on what the day ahead would bring. It was difficult for him to feel optimistic about the outcome. Out of spite, his sister-in-law had taken to bad-mouthing him all over town, her accusations blackening his character and surely prejudicing the citizens.

To add to his doubts, Ehron Lee wasn't much encouraged by his lawyer. Addison Telborough had been court-appointed since Ehron Lee had no funds to speak of, and he appeared to have prepared his case in a perfunctory manner. Maybe it was because of his downcast mood, but to Ehron Lee it seemed as if Mr. Telborough was just a little too persistent in reminding him during their visits that he didn't have much of a defense. Maybe he was trying to brace his client for the probable outcome . . . or perhaps he was simply preparing to justify his own lack of success when the verdict was delivered.

In any case, Ehron Lee truthfully couldn't fault him; he knew his chances at acquittal looked slim. He also understood that he really had only one hope, and that was finding Albert Patterson, the man from whom he'd bought the property and who could at least provide some credibility to Ehron Lee's claim. Unfortunately, despite Telborough's assurances that this search was being undertaken, Ehron Lee felt distinctly that no effort was being put into trying to locate the man.

Adding to Ehron Lee's discouragement was the knowledge that the county prosecutor was a man with a large number of convictions to his credit. He wasn't from Justice and would be riding into town from the big city to provide his service to the people.

Still holding the tray of food that Ehron Lee had refused, Sheriff Leighton said, “Well, since you ain't up to eatin', might as well make yourself presentable for the trial.”

Accompanied by Deputy Bert Stradd, the man responsible for his capture, Ehron Lee was taken in handcuffs to the livery stable, where the manacles were removed and he was allowed to bathe in a trough filled with fresh water. Outside of a few basin washes done in his cell, this was the closest Ehron Lee had come to cleaning himself since before his arrest. He had to bathe quickly. By the time he finally emerged from the trough, the water was quite filthy, but he felt at least a little refreshed.

Escorted back to the jail, Ehron Lee was permitted a shave and hair trim by the town barber, and then he was given a fresh change of clothes to wear for the trial.

Ehron Lee hoped that Melinda wouldn't be present, though he knew that would not be the case. She'd attend the trial—most likely in the company of Abigail, which only made matters worse. Abigail had made no secret of the fact that he would get no support from her. But what troubled Ehron Lee more was the thought that maybe she was working at turning Melinda against him. Abigail was the older of the two, and Ehron Lee had seen firsthand during the time they had lived with her and Winston the strong influence Abigail had over her sister. She had practically raised Melinda after their mother died, taking on a maternal role of nurturing and disciplining, which the immature Melinda accepted. That pattern of obedience followed Melinda into adulthood. Even as a grown woman, Melinda was diffident when she was with her sister, always cautious not to do or say anything that might displease her.

But she
had
displeased Abigail once, and that was when she chose Ehron Lee as her husband.

Ehron Lee never knew for certain that Abigail had opposed the marriage, though if she had, it was the one time she'd failed in her attempt to bend the will of her sister. It was enough that Ehron Lee always felt Abigail disapproved of him. She was cordial with him, polite, but Ehron Lee suspected that was mainly because of the friendship he had shared with Winston. Now that Winston was dead, and with Abigail holding Ehron Lee responsible, there was no reason for her to pretend any longer. She'd revealed her true feelings, emotions that she had probably kept bottled up for some time.

No, not even for Melinda's sake—or perhaps to her thinking, it was
for
Melinda's sake—would she put in a good word for him.

She wanted to see Ehron Lee pay the penalty for her husband's death.

* * *

The trial of Ehron Lee Burrows provided some much-needed diversion for the town of Justice, where nothing much by way of excitement was known to happen. The saloon was closed for business and would serve as a makeshift courtroom, since no such “official” building existed in the town. Customer tables were moved aside from the center of the room, and rows of chairs were already lined up for the spectators. A desk had been brought in from the back office and placed at the front of the long mahogany bar, to serve as the judge's bench. By nine thirty, the place was already packed with curious citizens, many of whom were unable to find seats and who were standing against the walls. Most of the people were from town, but a smattering came from other parts of the county. It seemed as if everyone knew the old farmer Elmer Bryant—or they were simply looking for an entertaining way to spend their day.

Ehron Lee even recognized some folks from in and around his own town of Brackett, perhaps summoned by the court to provide a character statement. If intended to aid in his defense, Ehron Lee didn't see that offering a hell of a lot of support. He didn't have much to do with the people of his community. He was seen as a quiet man who pretty much kept to himself. Content to do his work at any of the odd jobs he held in town, then at day's end to hurry home to his wife, not one to socialize with the locals.

Ehron Lee was seated with his lawyer, discussing a few last-minute items with him while trying to ignore the murmurs and comments of the crowd, most of whom for either justice or amusement seemed eager for a guilty verdict.

Ehron Lee deliberately kept his focus straight ahead, on where the judge would be seated, not wanting to know if Melinda was in the crowd. He could feel her presence but did not want to confirm it. He decided that when it came time for him to take the stand, he would keep his eyes averted from the crowd. It would be painful for him to look into Melinda's face. It would be even worse to meet Abigail's condemning stare.

Judge Harrison entered the saloon from the back room exactly as the grandfather clock standing next to the bar signaled ten o'clock. He looked properly stern and solemn, official in his somber black suit, befitting an undertaker, starched white shirt, and string tie, neither his appearance nor his demeanor betraying his previous night's escapades.

A hush descended over the room and everyone rose. The judge took his seat. One of the townsmen stood next to the desk and faced the crowd.

“Court is in session,” he stated. “Judge Charles Hugh Harrison presidin'.”

The judge addressed the assembled. “Be seated.”

Those who had chairs sat. The others remained standing.

Judge Harrison glanced over the papers set before him. He cleared his throat, frowned, and formally read the charges.

“Ehron Lee Burrows, you're accused of horse theft and assault with murderous intent.” At that, the judge further creased the furrows in his forehead and turned to the townsman.

“By the way, what is the present condition of Mr. Bryant?” he asked.

“Oh, he's still unconscious, Judge,” the man replied. “Ain't doin' well at all. Doc still ain't sure if'n he'll make it.”

Judge Harrison nodded, then proceeded, looking directly at the accused and his counsel.

“Burrows, how do you plead?”

Ehron Lee's lawyer stood up and answered on Ehron Lee's behalf, “My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor.”

The judge squinted through his spectacles and again cleared his throat. “As I understand, Mr. Telborough, you'll be presenting your case for the defense first. Very well, you may call your first witness.”

Addison Telborough looked down at Ehron Lee. He was to be the
only
witness called for the defense: the accused himself. As Ehron Lee rose and tried to keep his gait steady walking to the witness chair, he already felt the case was lost.

It would be his word alone against Bert Stradd, the sheriff's deputy, and the other men who rode in the posse, along with the witnesses at the ranch who saw—as much as they were able—the attack on Elmer Bryant. Those men could not in truth identify him . . . but under the circumstances, that offered little promise. They were a hard-bitten bunch not as interested in legal formalities as in their own brand of justice. They wanted someone to pay for the crime, and innocent or not, Ehron Lee had enough evidence against him to be looked upon as guilty.