Romance Classics (40 page)

“That’s incredible!” Lynn gasped. “Wayde couldn’t do a thing like that. He doesn’t mind people hunting there; you know he refused to post the land when I asked him to, because of Bert. He said people had always hunted there, and there was no game worth bothering about, and to post the land would just be a challenge to would-be hunters.”

“And,” Steve went on as though she had not protested, “there is a gun missing from the McCullers collection in the gun room, a very fine gun of the calibre with which Larry was shot. McCullers denies knowing anything about what happened to the gun. But Larry was shot with it. Obviously McCullers has hidden it, buried it or thrown it in the river—”

“Steve, you don’t believe a word of that!” Lynn gasped. “You can’t!”

Steve’s jaw was set at a stubborn angle, his eyes bleak and cold.

“Whether I believe it or not isn’t important, Lynn, though as a matter of fact, I do!” he told her, and went on before she could protest, “What is important is that Sheriff Tait and the police chief in Oakville believe it And I’m sure a jury will eventually.”

Lynn sat very still, her hands gripped so tightly in her lap that the knuckles strained hard against her flesh.

“It looks very bad for McCullers, Lynn,” Steve stated grimly. “And the sooner you accept that and adjust to it, the better off you’ll be. Just start praying that the Holland boy lives.”

Lynn shivered and her mouth felt dry. Words were beyond her. She could only sit very still and silent as the car drove on to Oakville and to the pleasantly shabby old house that was home.

There were little knots of people here and there on the street, standing in close groups, talking, turning to eye the well-known car as it drove past.

As though he read her thoughts as she glanced uneasily from one small, close-knit group to another along the street, Steve said grimly, “It’s much worse in Rivertown. So you see why Sheriff Tait thought he’d better keep McCullers in the county jail. He and Chief Hudgins are working together. Nothing like this has ever happened here before.”

Lynn said huskily, “It didn’t happen, Steve. Not the way Larry told it.”

“Lynn, listen to me.” Steve was harsh-voiced and stern, near the end of his patience. “Larry may die; we’ll hope he doesn’t, for his own sake as well as for McCullers’. But you are being very stubborn, very unfair and very unworthy of being your father’s daughter to insist so stubbornly that the boy is lying. You don’t even know him.”

“I know Wayde,” she said through her teeth.

“Oh, sure, the charmer, the ladies’ man, the man who can wind any gal around his little finger,” Steve sneered. “Naturally he’s going to persuade you he’s innocent in the hope you’ll get your father to defend him. But you’re not going to, because Judge Carter isn’t strong enough and I won’t permit it.”

That stung Lynn into swift, angry speech.

“
You’re
not going to permit it?” she flashed at him.

“You heard me,” said Steve grimly. “I know his physical condition much better than you do. Remember, I was here with him during his illness last winter.”

Lynn shrank a little. It would always hurt her that it had been a stranger who had done a family duty towards her father at such a time.

“So because I know your father’s condition, and because I know that he’s not strong enough to go through the ordeal of a trial, I am not going to permit him to risk it,” Steve finished.

“He will want to.”

“Oh, sure. So you’re going to tell him that McCullers doesn’t want him,” Steve said shortly.

“But, Steve, Wayde does want Dad.”

“I’m sure he does! He’s counting heavily on the fact of your father’s popularity in town, knowing that the smallest straw will help him, and caring absolutely nothing that such a defense from your father could easily cost your father’s life. But McCullers wouldn’t care any more about that than he did about shooting Larry Holland down in cold blood.”

Lynn cried out wildly, raggedly, “Steve — don’t. I won’t listen — I won’t—”

“Then you’ll tell your father that McCullers has wired one of his fancy lawyers in New York, who will fly down to defend him,” said Steve grimly. And his tone made it a statement, not a question.

“I — yes, Steve — if you think I should—” Lynn crumpled beside him in the car.

“I
know
you should,” Steve told her grimly, as they turned in at the driveway and stopped beside the house. “And you’d better make it convincing, too. You understand me?”

“No,” said Lynn huskily. “I don’t understand you. I’ll never understand you. I’m not sure that I want to.”

“That worries me a lot,” drawled Steve, his tone giving weight to the words, as she got out of the car and stumbled up the steps and through the door.

Ruth came hurrying to meet them, white-faced, anxious.

“Your father’s gone over to the hospital,” she said swiftly. “Chief Hudgins called and said Larry had rallied and your father could have five minutes with him. How was Wayde?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Lynn stammered. “He’s wired for a lawyer from New York and expects to be out on bail at any time.”

“
If
Larry pulls through,” Steve said grimly.

“But you said he had rallied,” Lynn said to her mother.

“The doctors are being very wary,” Ruth answered wearily. “They still say he has no more than a fifty-fifty chance, but he came out of the sedative influence, or whatever they call it. They said he was rational, but very weak. They’re giving him blood transfusions. They say it’s something to see: practically the whole of Rivertown lined up in a row offering blood donations for him.”

She sighed and shook her head in bewilderment.

“Poor Larry! I’d never have dreamed he was so popular, so well-liked,” she admitted.

“He’s in trouble, and his town is rallying around,” Steve pointed out. “They’re taking sides with him against the foreigner in our midst, that’s all. Once he is well and out of the hospital, he’ll go back to being a rather unsavory little punk.”

“If only he gets well!” Ruth breathed, and turned anxiously to Lynn. “Did Wayde tell you anything about how it happened?”

“How could he?” Lynn flashed hotly. “He wasn’t even there! He’d gone to Jacksonville on business.”

“Oh, then,” Ruth’s eyes were eager with relief, “he has an alibi!”

Reluctantly, Lynn shook her head, and Steve said dryly, “Claims he saw nobody who would remember seeing him at any specific time. Worse than no alibi at all.”

“Oh, dear!” Ruth mourned.

Lynn said stiffly, “You may as well know, Mother, that Wayde asked me to marry him and I said I’d love to.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Steve said harshly, “You’ll have five to ten years to change your mind, Lynn. It will take him that long to do his time,
if
Larry lives. Otherwise—”

Lynn cringed and gave him a blazing look before she turned and ran from the hall and up the stairs to her own room.

She gave a violent start when there was a knock on her door, and roused a little as the door opened and the Judge came in.

She stumbled toward him, and his arms closed about her and held her as he had held her when she was a child, grieving for a broken toy.

“Now, now, honey,” he soothed her.

He was haggard-looking, and her heart was smitten at the thought of the emotional strain he was undergoing.

She sat on the arm of his chair, her arm about his shoulder, and fought with every ounce of strength at her command not to reveal to him the depths of her anxiety.

“How is Larry?” she managed at last.

“A very little better. The doctors admit it’s encouraging, though they still won’t say more than that ‘his chances are very slightly improved,’” said the Judge.

“Did you see him?”

“Oh, yes,” he answered, and sighed heavily. “For only a minute or two. He wanted to see me, and the doctors agreed I could listen to him, if I wouldn’t ask him any alarming questions. As if I’d know any to ask him.”

“Well?” Lynn’s voice was taut.

Judge Carter looked up at her, and then away as though he found it hard to endure the anguish in her eyes.

“He tells a pretty straight story, honey,” he admitted reluctantly. “And Chief Hudgins and Sheriff Tait are convinced he’s telling the truth.”

Lynn stood up swiftly, her eyes blazing.

“Well, I’m not,” she said hotly. “You’re not either, are you, Dad?”

Judge Carter hesitated, while terror knocked at her heart and drew an icy finger down her spine.

“Honey, Ruth told me how you feel about Wayde,” he said slowly, reluctantly. “I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t upset, under the circumstances. I know you believe in him completely, but — well, the boy’s story is pretty convincing. He hasn’t owned a gun since he first got in trouble. It was one of the terms of his being placed on probation: that he shouldn’t be allowed a gun or a knife. And nobody else hunts in those woods.”

“Oh, yes they do, Dad,” Lynn reminded him fiercely. “Remember how Bert complains about his ‘little folks’ being shot by hunters?”

“Not by real hunters, honey. Just kids with air rifles,” Judge Carter pointed out heavily. “And the gun used to shoot Larry came from the gun room at Inspiration Hill. That’s a matter of established fact.”

Lynn drew a deep, hard breath.

“Even if Wayde himself told me he did it, I wouldn’t believe it,” she cried hotly.

Judge Carter sighed as he looked up at her.

“Steve tells me that Wayde doesn’t want me to defend him,” he said quietly. “Naturally, I had planned to offer, but Steve feels that since I have been Larry’s attorney ever since the boy was twelve years old, I’d do Wayde more harm than good.

“I’m a little hurt, I admit,” said the Judge impulsively. “But I suppose Wayde knows best; perhaps he feels one of his own friends from New York could do a better job.”

“He doesn’t feel anything of the kind,” Lynn flung out hastily. “He’d rather have you than anybody.”

Judge Carter looked surprised.

“Then why did he refuse to allow me or Steve to defend him?” he asked.

Lynn set her teeth hard against the impulse to tell her father the truth: that Wayde
had
wanted him, but that Steve had felt he wasn’t strong enough, and that Steve himself felt he couldn’t afford to risk angering the people of Oakville and Rivertown by defending him!

“Oh, I don’t know, Dad,” she stumbled, trying to explain without revealing the truth. “I suppose maybe he felt that — well, that he’s a stranger here and people resent him anyway, and that if you tried to help him, it would make you unpopular.”

There was a spark of anger in the Judge’s tired eyes.

“I hope never to reach the place in my profession where I refuse to defend an innocent man, wrongfully accused, for fear of making myself unpopular,” he said sharply.

“I know you won’t.” Lynn kissed his cheek. “And you
do
feel he’s innocent, and wrongfully accused, don’t you?”

The Judge hesitated for a long moment, and Lynn’s nerves were stretched like rubber bands as she waited.

At last he looked up at her and said heavily, “I wish with all my heart I could say that I do, but I just don’t know.”

She caught her breath on a small, agonized sob, and he put his arms about her and drew her down, cradling her as he had cradled her as a child.

“I’m truly sorry, honey,” he went on softly, stroking her tumbled curls. “If I could talk to Wayde, have him tell me all he can, as his lawyer, we might be able to find some loophole. But since he prefers someone else—”

He sighed again and went on after a moment, “Maybe he’s wise, at that. Maybe some of his smart New York lawyers can see the thing from a different angle. Living here, knowing the Hollands, the local people, I may be overlooking some fact—”

Lynn asked huskily, “Can’t he be released on bond? Bail, or something? I can’t bear to think of him caged up over there like a wild animal.”

“At the moment, Lynn — and you must believe me, my dear — he is much safer there than he would be if he were at liberty,” the Judge told her gravely.

“Safer?” Lynn barely breathed the word, looking at him with wide eyes touched with panic. “You mean if he was free, back at home—”

“You have no idea how worked up people are, honey,” Judge Carter told her gravely, “in Rivertown especially. Holland’s doing everything he can to stir people up, and if Wayde were in jail here — well, Sheriff Tait and Chief Hudgins knew that wouldn’t do at all. And if they reasoned he wouldn’t be safe in jail here, how do you think they’d feel if he were out on bond and up there at Inspiration Hill — alone, except for the servants?”

Lynn’s eyes were wide and shocked as she turned her head and looked through the window at the big old house that crowned its hill, outlined against the last glimmering light of the dying day. No lights showed in the house on this side. She knew the servants were busy in the service wing on the opposite side of the house. But in the long, barnlike drawing room, the vast dining room, the section where at this time of evening Wayde would normally be, there were no lights. The loneliness of the scene was terrifying.

She got up suddenly and walked across the room and turned to face her father, who was watching her anxiously.

“I can’t make myself believe it,” she burst out at last. “Oakville, my home town; Rivertown, that I’ve known all my life. The people here that I’ve always thought were kind and friendly and hospitable — and now
this!
It’s horrible! They’re not like people at all; they’re like savages!”

“You mustn’t take it like that, Lynn,” her father advised. “If it were not for your interest in Wayde—”

“Not interest, Dad. I love him. I’m going to marry him!”

Judge Carter sighed and managed a faint, unconvincing smile.

“You’re old enough to know your own mind,” he said comfortingly. “We’ll just have to wait and see what develops.”

“I’ll wait. Because I know Wayde didn’t do this horrible thing and somehow, some way, people are going to be forced to believe that!”

“I hope so. I hope so with all my heart!” said her father fervently, and stood up. “You’d better get some rest now. Your mother is going to bring your dinner up on a tray.”