Authors: Connie Mason
“Christ!” The word exploded from Casey in a rush of pure anguish. “No wonder Belle is unresponsive when you visit her. She’s been put through hell. Knowing that Tommy is in an orphanage must be tearing her apart. Try not to worry, Naomi, I’ll get to the bottom of this. We both know Belle isn’t capable of murder. I’m a damn good detective, it’s time I lived up to my reputation. But first, there is something I
can
do for her and Tommy. I pray Belle will agree.”
Mark was nowhere in sight when Casey returned to the parlor. He didn’t wait around. Mark was a big boy, he could find his way back to the hotel without his help. Obviously Sweet Sue was taking Naomi’s words to heart and was showing Mark a damn good time. It was just as well, Casey thought. He had a whole lot of thinking and planning to do before he saw Belle tomorrow.
Belle shifted restlessly on the hard cot, unable to find a comfortable position. She had slept little since she had been charged with murder and thrust into the tiny cell to await trial. At first she had counted the days, but she no longer had the will or energy to do even that. Most days she lay listlessly on the cot or sat with her back propped against the wall, staring at nothing in particular, recalling happier days when she, Tom, and Tommy had been a happy family.
What she tried not to remember was Casey, a man she could love so easily. She’d known when he
left that she’d never see him again. He had taken what he wanted from her then betrayed her to McAllister. He was no different from the worst wretch that frequented Naomi’s place. And yet … he had made her
feel
for the first time since Tom’s death. And he made her want. It was that wanting that was making her hurt so much now.
Worse yet was the knowledge that sweet, innocent Tommy was living among strangers, probably thinking she had abandoned him. Belle didn’t try to stop the tears that flowed freely down her pale cheeks. Nobody cared whether she cried or smiled. No one, with the exception of Naomi and Wan Yo, cared whether she lived or died. Truth to tell, she no longer cared herself. She was as good as convicted anyway. The lawyer Naomi had hired told her there was virtually no chance of an acquittal and she had no reason to believe otherwise.
Belle sighed and stared at the bar of light slanting through the window, mesmerized by the specks of dust floating aimlessly in the glow. Soon the deputy would carry in her breakfast, she supposed, but she lacked an appetite for food. She just wanted to lie there and drift, like those specks of dust, carried hither and yon without reason or volition.
Casey arrived at the sheriff’s office in a fever of impatience. He had woken at dawn and would have rushed off then if it hadn’t been too early for visiting hours. He had forced himself to swallow a hasty breakfast, hardly tasting or even aware of what he ate. Then he woke Mark up and told him what he planned to do.
At first Mark was openly skeptical of Casey’s
plan. But when he saw the simplicity of it he wholeheartedly endorsed it. Everything depended on Belle and her acceptance of Casey’s idea.
The first thing Casey did was to impress the sheriff by flashing his credentials. “Not only am I here as a close and personal friend of Mrs. McAllister, but as a Pinkerton detective. The lady is innocent, Sheriff, and I’m going to prove it. I’d like to see her now.”
“You can see the lady but you’re wasting your time. She’s guilty as sin.”
“Why don’t you let me judge that for myself? I’m a relentless investigator. Ask Allan Pinkerton if you don’t believe me. I know Belle McAllister, and she isn’t capable of committing murder.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “You know her, eh? How well?”
Casey fixed him with an icy glare. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but Mrs. McAllister and I are engaged to be married.” The lie fell easily from his lips. Casey was surprised at how naturally he’d just pronounced Belle his fiancée.
“Engaged,” Sheriff Rogan sputtered. “That’s the first I heard of a fiancée.”
“It’s true, nonetheless. I visited McAllister several times to plead Belle’s cause.”
“Where were you when the murder was committed?”
“In Arizona, working on a case. I arrived back in town on yesterday’s stage. Enough talking, I want to see Belle.”
“Through that door and down the hallway. She’s the only one back there now. Our other prisoner was released last night.”
Casey didn’t wait around for further directions. He was through the door like a shot. He found Belle in one of the three cells, lying hollow-eyed and unresponsive on the bunk, staring at the ceiling. She neither turned in his direction nor acknowledged his presence, though he knew she had heard him. It was almost as if she were … dead. Sickening rage welled up inside him and he wanted to kill the person who had done this to her. Because he couldn’t let her see him this way, he remained silent until he forced his anger under control. Only then did he call out her name.
“Belle.” Nothing. “Belle, it’s Casey. Talk to me, love.”
Belle frowned but did not answer. She knew she was having another hallucination. At various times during her incarceration she’d heard voices speaking to her, and seen both Tommy and Casey in her dreams. She knew better than to let her imagination run away with her again.
“Belle, please look at me. I’ve come to help you. My brother is free now. I’ve brought him back with me.”
That remark garnered Belle’s attention. What Casey just said was something her imagination couldn’t know. She turned her head slowly, her eyes glazed as they settled on Casey’s broad-shouldered form. Her expression remained unchanged.
“So you did come back.”
“Did you doubt it?”
Belle shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Snap out of it, Belle,” Casey ordered harshly. “We’ve got work to do if we’re going to clear you of this murder charge.”
“Go away. I’m beyond help.”
Casey was at his wit’s end. Naomi had warned him about Belle’s apathy, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. She had lost all hope. Her eyes were empty. Nothing remained but a lifeless shell of flesh and bone.
“Tommy is in an orphanage,” Belle rambled on. “He’s frightened and alone and I can’t help him.” She had no more tears left, she was utterly wrung out. “Sometimes I can hear him crying for me in the night.” She looked at him then, and Casey was shocked by the great purple shadows beneath her eyes. “I’m going to die in prison. I’ll never see Tommy again.”
“That’s not true. About Tommy, I’ve got a plan, Belle, but you have to agree.”
“He’s going to be six soon, did you know that? I wonder if they’ll celebrate his birthday at the orphanage.”
“Dammit, Belle, don’t slip away from me now!” Casey all but shouted. “This isn’t like you. You’re a fighter. Where’s the spirit that I have come to admire?”
Belle’s attention shifted and she lifted herself from the bunk. Casey was shocked at how gaunt she had become. He could see her collarbone poking out beneath the material of her dress. Her cheekbones were stark against the paleness of her face, and her once vibrant hair lay limp and lusterless against her head. She stepped to the bars, curling her fingers around them, her face mere inches from Casey’s.
“My spirit was destroyed by a man I thought I could trust.”
Casey reached out and dragged his finger slowly down the curve of her cheek. He wanted to pull her
into his arms and comfort her, but the bars prevented intimacy. “I never wanted to hurt you, love.”
Belle had the most compelling urge to lean her cheek into the cradling warmth of his hand. To gaze into his eyes and tell him she trusted him. She could not.
Reaching through the bars, Casey grasped her arms and pulled her close, until he could reach her lips with his mouth. He touched them briefly in the gentlest of kisses.
“You can trust me, Belle. I’m the only hope you have of getting out of here and I’m going to do my level best to make it happen. I have a plan. I’ve thought a lot about this and I’m convinced it will work. If you agree, Tommy can be out of the orphanage in a day or two.”
Something flickered in Belle’s eyes and her attention sharpened. Her eyes were indeed the windows of the soul, Casey thought, for in them he saw the chaotic turmoil of her innermost thoughts and feelings. Where despair once dwelled, he recognized the beginnings of hope.
“How can you do that?” Her voice was raw with desperation, and a fair amount of disbelief.
“I told you I had a plan. But I need your cooperation.”
“I’ll do anything for Tommy, you know that.”
“Anything, Belle? Even murder?” He hated himself for asking but it had to be done. Everything had to be out in the open between them. Even if she had killed McAllister he wouldn’t abandon her. The old man had driven her to it.
Belle drew back in horror. “You think I killed my father-in-law, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me what happened, then I’ll tell you my plan.”
Belle retraced her steps to the bunk and sat down, staring at her hands. Her voice was monotone and so low Casey had to strain to hear her. She told him everything that happened, from the moment she took Naomi’s gun until she was thrown bodily from McAllister’s house.
“And you didn’t go back later?” Casey asked.
“No. I went right to bed.”
“No one saw you?”
“No, no one. It’s hopeless, Casey. You may be a good detective but you’ll never solve this mystery.”
“I’m not going to give up, Belle. I started investigating McAllister’s past before I left San Francisco and have a couple good leads. The man wasn’t without enemies.”
Belle raised her eyes and their gazes collided. Hers was hesitant and dubious, his steady and confident. For the first time in weeks she felt something other than helplessness, despair, and frustration. His quiet assurance was encouraging.
“I’ve told you all I know, now it’s your turn. How do you plan on getting Tommy released from the orphanage and who will take care of him once he’s out? Naomi would be happy to …”
“Naomi has already tried,” Casey reminded her, “and the judge refused to release Tommy into her custody.” His hazel eyes grew intense as he spoke to her. “Listen carefully, love, and I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. I say we, because I need your cooperation.”
Drawn by his words, Belle returned to the bars, grasping them so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Casey covered her hands with his, and Belle felt strength and courage flow into her. She didn’t question why, she just accepted.
“I’m going to petition the court for custody of Tommy.”
Belle’s hopes plummeted down to her feet. “What kind of plan is that? No judge in the country would award custody of a young boy to you. You can’t even claim remote relationship. For all they know you could be an opportunist after Tommy’s inheritance.”
Now comes the difficult part, Casey thought as he studied Belle’s flushed face. “I would be related to Tommy if we were to marry. I’d be his stepfather.”
“No!” Belle objected before giving the suggestion proper consideration.
“Don’t be hasty, love. Think about it. Tommy knows me, he’d be safe. I’d even bring Wan Yo to the house to be with him. Mark is with me, he’d help look after Tommy.”
“You’d be marrying a dead woman,” Belle said. Her claim startled him. “I may as well be dead,” she clarified, “with a long prison term facing me. You just went through that with your brother, remember? Why would you put yourself through it again?”
Casey grinned, revealing the deep dimple in his chin. “I suppose it’s partly because of the detective in me. Then again,” he said growing serious, “it could be because I care for you and Tommy.”
“And Tommy’s inheritance,” Belle said caustically, unwilling to believe Casey would go through a bogus marriage just to help Tommy.
“I don’t give a damn about Tommy’s money,” Casey argued. “He’s a fine boy, any man would be proud to claim him. Dammit, Belle, don’t reject this out of hand. Unless you want Tommy to remain in
the orphanage and his estate to be managed by strangers, I suggest you give serious thought to my plan. And don’t think you won’t be out of here to help raise your son because you will. I swear it, Belle. I’ll find the real killer if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Marriage,” Belle whispered shakily. “After Tom died I never thought I’d marry again. Not like this, anyway. I appreciate your gesture, Casey, but I realize you’re just trying to salve your conscience for betraying me to my father-in-law.” She stared at him, her eyes glowing fervently. “But I’ve got to be practical and think of Tommy, don’t I? Strange as it may seem, I’d rather have you raise Tommy than to leave him in the orphanage for strangers to raise.
“I’ll agree with one stipulation,” Belle said slowly. “If by some remote possibility I’m acquitted, I want your promise to let me dissolve the marriage.”
“Belle, that’s …”
“It’s the only way I’ll agree. I won’t spend my life with a man I can’t trust. A man who married me because of some guilt-driven need to ease his conscience.”
Casey wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. “Fine,” he said tersely. “If that’s the way you want it. I’ll speak to the sheriff and make all the arrangements. We’ll be married tomorrow morning. I’ll also instruct your lawyer to prepare a petition to present to the judge. With any luck I’ll bring Tommy to visit you in a few days.”
Belle’s eyes lit up. “I’d be truly grateful if you could do that, Casey.”
“Not grateful enough to trust me when I say I’m not marrying you because of misplaced guilt,” he charged. His voice was cool, his expression hard.
“Forget it,” he growled when Belle opened her mouth to speak, “I don’t want your gratitude. I’m doing this for Tommy, and because you don’t belong behind bars. Once I find the real killer you can end our marriage in any way you please. Meanwhile, there are two weeks left before your trial and I’ve got a killer to find.”
He whirled on his heel and strode away. Belle watched him leave, her heart thumping furiously. Casey had returned and she felt alive again.
“Y
ou’re
what?”
Naomi shouted when Casey revealed his plans to her.