Lanterns and Lace (25 page)

Thank You, Lord. He leaned back in his chair and allowed satisfaction to roll over him. Not that Rebecca would have money for her future, but that Jenny believed he could decipher the journal.

Grant lifted the coffee to his lips. Jessica’s method of concealing the money had been nothing more than child’s play. Yet both he and Jenny had found her code nearly impossible. Now, finding the name listed on the account should be easy, certainly simpler than where the money had been hidden.

Propping his feet on the desk, he felt decisively wonderful—and pleased. Turner had left town, and Jenny needed to stay. Perhaps she not only feared for herself but for her parents, too. Grant couldn’t offer her much of a future if he couldn’t place the root of her fears in jail. First thing in the morning, he’d visit Ben and Morgan. Hopefully one of them had turned up something on Turner. Afterward he planned to stop by the boardinghouse and present Jenny with the journal’s findings. The wording of a marriage proposal flashed in and out of his mind.

The sound of someone frantically shouting his name broke his reverie. Alerted, he sprang from his desk and took long strides toward the entrance of his home. This could only be an emergency.

The pounding at Grant’s door sounded like someone was kicking it in. He flung it open to find Frank carrying the limp body of a small woman.

“Someone broke into the house while I was gone,” he said with a gasp. “She’s hurt real bad, Grant. Oh, dear God, please don’t take my Ellen.”

Grant reached for her, but Frank shook his head. “No, I’ll lay her wherever you want.”

Pointing to the examination table in his office, Grant lit the lamps while Frank placed Ellen gently on the table. Her ashen face and faint breathing revealed the telltale signs of her attack. Who could have done such a thing? Purplish-blue finger marks pressed in around her throat, and her face was swollen and beginning to discolor.

Lord, it’s a miracle that she’s still alive. Touch her, I beg of You, with Your healing power. Guide my hands. Give me wisdom, and let all the glory be Yours. Amen.

“She’s a fighter,” Grant said. He carefully felt her bruised neck, face, and the back of her head. A large bump rose beneath his fingers but there was no blood. Had she fallen, or had someone struck her head? “We know God can pull her through this.”

Frank’s powerful chest rose and fell with the gravity of the situation before him. “It’s all my fault. I was a fool to leave a dog to protect her. She was no match for whoever did this.”

“You had no way of knowing.”

Frank buried his face in his hands. “The house was turned upside down by some wild man—like Mrs. Lewis’s.”

Suspicion stole inside Grant’s mind that Turner might have attacked Ellen, but he kept silent. “We’ll let Ben deal with it later. Right now I need Mimi.” He kept his attention focused on Ellen. “Would you go upstairs and knock on the second door on the right for me? And pray, Frank. Keep praying.”

“I am. I will.” His boots thundered on the steps, sure to wake the entire household.

But Grant didn’t have time to fret over trivial matters. Ellen’s unresponsiveness scared him. Who did this blared across his mind. An old customer who couldn’t bear the fact she’d married, or Turner? Before he could contemplate the question further, Frank bounded back down the stairs.

“She’s on her way. No matter what happens with my Ellen, I’ll always be grateful for your help.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pants pocket, he wiped his face and nose. “I’ll stand back in the corner and hush so you can tend to her.”

Soon Mimi appeared in the doorway wrapped in a long robe. “Grant, I’m here.” Her voice was strong, in control. Grant needed that right now. So did Frank. “What do you need for me to do first?” she said.

“Could you prepare the upstairs room? I’d like to get her into a comfortable bed as soon as I can. There’s not much I can do but treat her injuries.” He glanced into Mimi’s lined face. “I appreciate your getting up.”

“What’s happened?”

Martha’s grating voice served only to irritate him. How long before all the kids were up? He needed quiet to care for Ellen.

“Ellen Kahler was attacked at her home tonight,” Mimi said.

Martha sucked in a breath. “When will it end? One tragedy after another.”

“We need to let Grant do what he can for her,” Mimi said.

“Did she say who did this?” Martha said.

“She’s unconscious.” Frank’s voice was infected with anger and bitterness. “How could she tell me anything?”

“Frank, I never wanted this for her. Not Ellen,” Martha said.

Before Frank could respond, Mimi took Martha by the arm. “I need you to help me upstairs.” A moment later, the office door closed.

“Would you go after Ben?” Grant lifted Ellen’s arm. He feared it might be broken, but it was only bruised.

“All right.” Frank drew in a ragged breath. “Do you think she’ll make it?”

“That’s up to God.” Grant lifted his gaze to Frank’s face and reddened eyes. “I’m doing everything I can.” He focused on cleaning the cuts on Ellen’s face and throat.

“I think I’ll stop at the parsonage, too. Have to go right by there.”

“Good idea. We need everyone praying. Take my horse. It’s stabled in back.”

Once Frank left, Grant had time to think. He couldn’t do much more for Ellen than wait, but Frank needed things to keep his body and mind busy. He examined her again, still questioning if her arm had been broken. At least she’d not been molested, which minimized the probability of her past life being the motive for the assault.

Grant didn’t believe in coincidences. Until the journal had come into his possession, he wouldn’t have had such strong suspicions about Aubrey Turner. But now he felt strongly that one certain individual stood behind all three calamities—Mrs. Lewis’s death, the fire, and now Ellen’s attack.

Ben and the reverend arrived with Frank within the hour. The three men met in Grant’s office. The only sound was Ben’s hacking coughs, reminding Grant of yet one more critical situation.

“How is she?” Frank said. “Who would have done this?”

“No change. But she isn’t worse. I haven’t taken her upstairs yet.”

Ben coughed, then cleared his throat. “Hey, brother, do you feel like answering some questions for me? I remember you said she was at the house while you were working.”

“That’s right. And I’ll do anything to help find the one who did this.”

“I understand,” Ben said. “Have you made anyone mad or had problems at the store or the lumberyard?”

Frank’s misty eyes never left Ellen’s face. “No, business is good, and I haven’t had any trouble.”

Ben’s gaze darted about, appearing reluctant to ask the next question. He hesitated, paused, and began again. “Could a man from Ellen’s past have done this?”

Frank came out of his chair with both fists clenched, but Grant grabbed him. “He has to ask questions. It’s his job.” Grant turned his attention to Ben. “Although he could have waited on that one. If your investigation is going to upset Frank, then it can wait until morning. Ellen needs my full attention.”

“I’m sorry.” Ben pushed back his hat. “Just tryin’ to figure out why someone would’ve attacked her.”

“I want to know, too,” Grant said. “But not at the expense of my patient or Frank. If you’re going to ask any more questions tonight, make sure they’re reasonable. I have no intention of breaking up a fight between you two. Seems like I’ve done that most of my life.” He didn’t need to add his last comment, but exasperation ground at him.

Ben nodded. “I suspect you have. One more thing is puzzling me. What about General Lee? Why didn’t he attack the intruder?”

Frank closed his eyes. “The man shot him near the front door. That tells me he had to be someone who knew General’s fierce nature.”

“Mind if I stop in at your place and take a look around?”

“No, go ahead. As upset as I am, you probably should go on over to the house now.”

Hours later, Grant quietly closed the door to the room where Ellen slept and where Frank and the reverend kept a constant vigil. Descending the stairs, he mentally listed the items he needed to do first thing this morning. Ellen had made it through the night, and the worst was over. Every bone in his body ached after the all-night ordeal, but he praised God for bringing Ellen through her brush with death.

Anger and a yearning for revenge needled at him despite his oath to protect and preserve human life. He knew God reserved the right to judge men by their deeds, but Grant wanted the crimes of late ended.

He hurried through the house looking for Mimi. She’d been up most of the night with him, and soon Rebecca would be up and ready for the day. He’d already heard Martha’s boys. Wearily, he shook his head in an attempt to dispel a hammering pain across his brow. He didn’t dare consider rest until his errands were completed and Ellen had responded to his care.

Mimi moved slowly about the kitchen. She looked pitifully tired, her normally clear eyes clouded red and puffy.

“Thanks for helping me last night,” he said.

“Nonsense.” Already she had an apron tied about her chubby waist, and the aroma of biscuits rested pleasantly in the air.

He sensed a gnawing hunger, but food hadn’t made it on his list. “I take advantage of you far too often.”

“Helping you and caring for Rebecca gives me more joy than you’ll ever know. So you hush about it right now.”

“It’s still not right. One of these days, I’m going to make all this up to you.” He hesitated. “I need to see Ben, then stop by the boardinghouse. I won’t be long, maybe an hour. Ellen is sleeping and shouldn’t stir for some time. Frank and the reverend are with her.” Guilt clung to him like flies on sugar for leaving Ellen if only for a little while.

She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “I’m glad you’re on your way to see Jenny.”

“I’m hoping last night will prove to her the importance of moving into the parsonage.”

She sighed. “I don’t know what this town is coming to. With Mrs. Lewis’s heart failure and this horrible attack on Ellen, it’s simply not safe for any woman.” She wiped her eyes with a corner of her apron. “It’s downright frightening to think there’s someone living in our town who’s mean enough to harm defenseless women.”

Grant wrapped his arm around her shoulders, which were trembling from the weight of her anguish. “I’m sorry too, Mimi. If it makes you feel any better, I may have a lead, which is one of the reasons why I’m stopping in to see Ben. Frank needs to know there’s a suspect. It won’t undo what happened to Ellen, but we’ll all feel better when the man’s caught.”

“Has Ellen spoken yet?”

“No, and I don’t want her talking for a few days. We can communicate with her by writing notes. I’m sure she knows who attacked her. Frank says shotgun shells were strewn all over the floor. She must have tried hard to protect herself.”

“It’s a wonder their dog didn’t tear the person to pieces,” Mimi said and smoothed back her smoky-gray hair.

Grant hesitated. He’d rather Mimi heard the details from him than someone else. “Someone shot the dog. When Ben left here last night, he planned to stop by their house to remove the animal and the bullet.”

His housekeeper grimaced. “This is just so awful. And I thought Texas had settled down.” She took a handkerchief from her apron pocket and blew her nose. “I know God had His hand on Ellen last night. How else could she have survived what happened to her?”

“I agree. He brought her through a rough night.”

Mimi attempted a smile. “You run along and get your things done. I’m all right, really I am. When you see Jenny, please tell her I need help. That should get her here in no time at all. You know—”

“What?”

“Martha was very upset last night. She must have liked Ellen more than we thought.”

Or she knows who attacked her. “I’m glad she helped you.” He squeezed her shoulders again. “I’m sure when Jenny hears about Ellen, she’ll be fussin’ with Frank about who’ll take care of her.”

“I plan to take some breakfast up to him and the reverend.”

“Good idea. Last night was a close call—too close.” Gently grasping her arms, he pushed her back and peered into her deep blue eyes. “You are exhausted. Once Jenny is here, I’d like for you to lie down. Can’t have my best girl sick.”

She pursed her lips stubbornly. “Maybe this afternoon. Right now I’m too upset to sleep.”

“I understand.” He turned to leave, then whirled around. “If Ellen wakens while I’m gone, let her have only a little water. And remember, don’t let her talk. Frank knows that too. I don’t know how much damage has been done to her throat. She may not be able to speak for a good while, so we’ll need to take one step at a time.”

His housekeeper patted his hand. “Go ahead now. Time’s a wasting.”

He headed back to his office, snatched up a folder of papers, and stepped out into the morning air. Deep in thought over the happenings of the night, he picked up his pace and hurried down the long stone walkway from his home.

The attacker couldn’t be anyone other than Turner, and Grant believed the journal proved his theory. Turner had to be the one who frightened Mrs. Lewis into a heart attack and probably instigated the fire—although he couldn’t piece together why. Without a doubt, Turner wanted his money and would do whatever was necessary to get it. Thoughts of Jenny’s safety lay heavily on Grant’s mind. She might be Turner’s next target.

Once he reached the street, Grant pulled out his pocket watch: seven o’clock. Jenny might not be out and about, but this was important. She’d be shattered with the news and most likely terrified.

He considered Turner’s all-too-obvious announcement of his departure from Kahlerville. It must have been designed to throw off any suspicion of involvement in the crimes he planned to commit. I know it’s him. According to the journal, he has motive plus a history of violence.

He could hear Morgan’s words now. “A man is innocent until proven guilty.” Grant knew he wanted to blame someone and have the matter cleared up. In fact, he wanted that very thing today. He felt secure in his accusations, but still he needed definite proof. He hoped that between Ben and Morgan they could end Turner’s reign of lawlessness.

Grabbing the doorknob to Ben’s office, he took a deep breath to calm his troubled mind.

“Morning, Grant.” Ben yawned, his dark hair uncombed. He must not have gone home. “How’s Ellen?”

“Much better. She’ll make it. I’ll send word as soon as she’s able to let us know the details of what happened. I’m in a rush this morning, but I wondered about the bullet from Frank and Ellen’s dog.”

Ben pointed to the bullet on his desk. “Looks like it came from a small revolver, probably a Remington. The same type of gun that killed Howe.”

Grant glanced down at the unopened mail and watched Ben thumb through it.

“I’ve been looking for some reason to arrest Turner for days,” Ben said. “Now that he’s gone, the information I need is probably right here.” Using his pocketknife, he carefully slit an envelope and pulled out its contents. “Let me skim over this first.” Ben breathed deeply while absorbing the words before him. “Turner’s a professional gambler all right, and he uses an assortment of names—one of which is Jacobs. He’s wanted for two counts of embezzlement and three killings.”

“Do you really think he left town?”

“Just covering his tracks. My guess is he’s hiding out. Still looking for his money. In any event, I’ll swear in a couple of deputies and start looking for him. You and I both know he’s behind the crimes that have hit our town.” He raised a brow. “Have you talked to Jenny?”