Soiled Dove (32 page)

“When you speak to her again, tell her I don’t care about my reputation. If you can get her acquitted, I’ll go anywhere so we can be together. I’ll do whatever I have to to save her.”

JO AND RIPLEY settled into hard wooden chairs at a table in the Cattleman’s Saloon. Jo was tired and stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes inside her shoes while Ripley ordered drinks. He set the glasses of beer on the table when he rejoined Jo and removed his hat. Jo took a long drink and made a face as she set the glass back down. “I’d have to already be drunk to drink this,” she said. With a smile she added, “It will make me glad to get back home and have a real drink.”

“It’s wet,” Ripley said with a shrug. “The bartender is Willis Manning and that stunning redhead he’s talking to is Mavis Calendar. She’s responsible for the girls who work here.”

“See if you can get them over here to talk to us separately.”

Ripley strolled back to the bar and spoke to Willis and Mavis for a moment before returning to their table accompanied by Mavis. Mavis Calendar was obviously older than the other girls in the saloon, but that didn’t detract from her attractiveness.

Mavis smiled down at Jo, who was in the process of appreciating Mavis’ body from head-to-toe.

“Something special I can do for you?” Mavis asked suggestively.

“Please, have a seat,” Jo answered. “Can we buy you a drink?” When Mavis declined, Jo leaned forward and lowered her voice slightly. “My associate, Mr. Sinclair, and I are representing Clare McIlhenney. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Fire away. I didn’t see much, but will tell you what I can.”

“Just tell us the truth without embellishing. Did you witness the shooting the night Thaddeus Garner and Jack Coulter were killed?”

“Didn’t see old man Garner get shot, but I did see Coulter go down after he shot Clare.”

“Did you see her fire at him?”

“He was mostly in the dark behind her. He shot first and she got a round off from her rifle in his direction. Can’t say for sure she hit him even though she doesn’t miss what she’s aimin’ at very often.

Looked like she was trying to buy a little time to get out of the line of fire. Next thing I know Coulter fell.”

“So Clare and Coulter were facing one another?”

“Yep.”

“And she couldn’t have shot him in the back.”

“Clare wouldn’t do that. Not her way.”

“So you didn’t see her get shot by anyone other than Coulter?”

“Nope. It was mostly over before I got to the door.

How’s she doin’?”

“Probably been better. What do you know about the problems between Clare and Mr. Garner?”

“All the Garners are trouble. Old man Garner’s been trying to run Clare off her land as long as he’s been here. About the last ten years or so. He claimed she didn’t own her property legally and was always causing trouble. Especially after she began putting up barbed wire a few months ago.”

“Were there bad feelings between Clare and Clement Garner as well?”

“Hell yeah! That little prick always thought he was some kind of stud. Made a move on Loretta when she worked at the café next door. Clare embarrassed him real bad in front of his daddy and a few of their hands.”

“We’ve been told he offered her money to service him. Is that true?”

“That’s what I heard, but I didn’t see or hear him do it. Ino Vasquez might have though. Him and Frank Carson were eating dinner in the café, along with Clare, that night.”

Jo cast a look at Ripley and saw him writing the names down. “Is there anything else you can tell us about either Clare McIlhenney or Thaddeus Garner?”

“Clare’s a good woman. Garner was a born asshole.”

Jo smiled. “If possible, I’d like to speak to Mr.

Manning now.”

“I’ll send him over,” Mavis said as she stood up.

“Check into the property thing, Ripley. See if there’s a title at the land office,” Jo told her assistant while they waited for Willis Manning to join them.

JO LIFTED HER skirt as she made her way through the snow to the front steps of Cyrus and Hettie Langford’s home. Ripley leaned past her when they reached the door and knocked three times.

“Do you honestly think these people will be willing to destroy their own lives by telling us the truth?”

“You never know what people will do when they’re stressed,” Jo answered.

A moment later the front door swung open and the two attorneys were greeted by a smiling, friendly-looking man in his late thirties. “Yes,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“My name is Josephine Barclay and this is my associate, Mr. Ripley Sinclair.”

Cyrus nodded toward Jo and shook Ripley’s hand.

“What can I do for you?”

“We represent Clare McIlhenney and would like to ask you a few questions,” Jo stated.

“I don’t know anything about that unfortunate event. I wasn’t there,” Cyrus said, raising his chin slightly.

“I understand that, Reverend Langford, but I believe you knew at least one of the men who were killed.”

“Actually, I knew them both, but...,” Cyrus began.

“Let them in, Cyrus.” Loretta stood on the bottom step of the staircase to the second floor. “It’s rude to leave them standing on the porch like door-to-door salesmen while you look as if you’re preparing to shut the door in their faces. I asked them to come to Trinidad.”

Cyrus frowned, but opened the door farther and motioned Jo and Ripley inside. “We can go into my study for privacy,” he suggested as he led the way.

Cyrus looked decidedly uncomfortable when he took a seat behind his desk.

Jo pulled a sheaf of paper and a writing instrument from her bag and leaned back in the chair she had taken in front of the desk. “In what capacity did you know Thaddeus Garner, Reverend?”

“I knew who he was and saw him in town, but we never spoke.”

“He wasn’t a member of your flock?”

“No. I have no idea what his religious affiliation was.”

“And Jack Coulter?”

Cyrus’ eyes shifted to Loretta and he hesitated.

“I’ve already given my statement, Cyrus. I told the truth,” Loretta said.

“I knew Jack Coulter from the visits I made to his brothel in St. Joe. Other than taking my money for services rendered, we never spoke much and certainly weren’t friends,” Cyrus said clearly in clipped wording.

“When did you learn Mr. Coulter was in Trinidad?”

“Amelia came home from work at Rosario’s two or three nights before the shooting,” he answered, looking down at his hands which were tightly clasped in front of him on his desk.

“What did she tell you about her meeting with Coulter?”

“She said he was telling everyone about Loretta.

He tried to get Amelia to tell him where Loretta was, injuring and frightening her in the process.”

“Amelia worked for Coulter in St. Joe, didn’t she?”

“She’s just a child!” Cyrus railed. “For God’s sake, Loretta. Amelia can’t be brought into this.”

“Amelia helped you and a woman named Hettie Tobias rescue Loretta after Coulter tried to kill her, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She knew I had been Loretta’s ‘client’,”

Cyrus said, his face turning red from embarrassment.

“She found me at my hotel and took me back to Jack’s place of business. Then she found a safe place to take Loretta. Hettie helped get Loretta and Amelia out of St. Joe and is now my wife.”

“Congratulations,” Jo said with a smile. “Since Mr. Coulter apparently told everyone he met about Loretta’s past it’s possible, in fact probable, you and Mrs. Langford will be called to testify at Miss McIlhenney’s trial. Amelia, as well, about her assault by Coulter.”

“I cannot permit Amelia to testify. She’s a girl and has a new life here. We’d all be forced to leave town in the middle of the night.”

“I understand the consequences, Reverend. That’s why I am here today. Miss McIlhenney doesn’t want you involved because she also understands the consequences. I’ll do what I can, but cannot promise anything. Needless to say, you cannot leave town until this matter is cleared up by a jury.”

“I warned you about associating with that woman!” Cyrus stormed. “We’ve had nothing but trouble since you insisted on living out there.”

“Clare is willing to be hanged for these crimes so your reputation won’t be tarnished, Cyrus,” Loretta snapped back. “Think about that while you try to remember the chapter in your precious
Bible
that calls for extending Christian charity toward those in trouble.”

CLARE LEANED BACK against the wall of her cell. The weakening light of the dusky afternoon filtered though the small window above her cot. Cold December air chilled the cell, but she barely noticed.

In a few months her ranch hands would begin moving the herd farther into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristos to feed on tender new grass. For the first time in nearly twenty years, she would not be with them.

Jo Barclay had checked the title to the ranch at the land office and soon the property her father had died for would be in the hands of Ino Vasquez. He’d worked hard and put up with Clare’s moods long enough to earn it. She had spent most of her adult life making the ranch successful, but it had never been her dream. She wondered what would have happened if she’d left it years ago.

“Can I get anything for you, Clare?” Hall Burress, one of her men asked. Her hands had been taking turns sleeping on a cot in the sheriff’s office since the night she had been left alone and beaten.

“No thanks. It’ll be time to go to sleep soon,” she answered.

Hall nodded and strolled back into the front office. Clare wouldn’t have minded having someone to talk to, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

She scooted down on the bunk and pulled a thin blanket over her body. She rolled over and stared across the small cell.

“Clare? Clare, are you awake?” a voice called out in a whisper from the alleyway behind the sheriff’s office.

Clare threw the blanket off and pulled the crate she had been using as a chair and table under the window. She stepped up and looked outside. Her heart broke when she saw Loretta standing in the snow beneath the window to her cell.

“Go away, Retta,” Clare whispered, “before someone sees you.”

“You won’t let me visit you, so this was the only way I could think of.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this. Like a criminal.”

“I miss you beside me at night.” Loretta did her best to smile for Clare.

“I’m sorry that the last time you see me will be in jail or shackled. Take a good look now because I…I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not fair,” Loretta said, taking a step closer to the window.

“There’s nothing I can offer you, Retta. I didn’t want it to end like this.”

“Jo’s been talking to everyone and getting witness statements. She’s very hopeful about the trial.”

“She’s wasting her time and getting your hopes up for nothing. I can’t beat this.”

“I never thought of you as a quitter.”

“I have to be realistic. If I don’t fight it, no one else will be hurt. Don’t you understand how dangerous every path is? I won’t take others down with me. It’s good enough to know Garner and Coulter are dead. Garner can’t hurt me any more and Coulter can’t hurt you any more.”

Tears sprang to Loretta’s eyes. “They lived long enough to destroy both of us. I love you, Clare McIlhenney. I don’t want to lose you.”

“What kind of life could we have together, always hiding, afraid someone will discover our secret?”

“Jo told me you would sacrifice your life to protect me and my reputation. I forbid you to do that.

I’ll do what I need to.”

“You don’t own me, Retta. You’ll destroy Cyrus, Hettie, and Amelia. Is that what you want?”

“It’s better to tell the truth and be free than to spend the rest of my life living in the shadow of the truth. Now that I know what I can have, I refuse to walk away, even if you ask me to.”

“Even if I told you I don’t love you?”

“You’d be lying. You can’t touch me the way you do without loving me.”

“When you were with Coulter, men touched you every night,” Clare said. She knew it was a cruel thing to say, but she had to convince Loretta to find a better life.Loretta drew in a sharp breath. “No one has ever touched me the way you do. When you get out of jail we can go someplace new where no one knows us and start over. You’ve already turned the ranch over to Ino and there won’t be anything here for you any more.”

“Please, don’t make me beg or say things that will hurt you.”

Loretta covered her mouth with a gloved hand so no one would hear her chuckle. “I’ve already made you beg a time or two. You’ve already said things that hurt me. What are you going to try next before you realize you can’t win?”

“I’m afraid, Retta.”

“I’ll be here waiting for you, no matter what, baby.”

Clare heard the front door to the office open and the door slam shut. “Sheriff’s back,” she said. “Go get some rest.”

Clare watched until Loretta disappeared from sight into the shadows of the alleyway.

JO BARCLAY AND Ripley Sinclair attempted every legal maneuver they could think of to delay Clare’s trial, including submitting motions for a change of venue and a request for a mental evaluation. The only successful motion they made was their request to have a judge sent down from Denver to oversee the trial. Clare had decided not to participate in her own defense. Other than Jo and Ripley, she refused to see or speak to anyone. Jo couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an uncooperative client or one so willing to die.

“Perhaps you should piss her off some way,”

Ripley suggested. He and Jo were on their way to the final meeting with their client. A month in Trinidad, Colorado was more than enough for Jo. She would be glad to return to what she considered civilization. She doubted she would be able to save Clare’s life and the emotional distress she saw on Loretta’s face every day was heartbreaking. The change from the passionate, eager young woman she had met in St. Joe a little over a year ago was hard for her to watch every day. Jo wished she could find a way to bring the light back into Loretta’s eyes.

As soon as Deputy Hardcastle checked the contents of their satchels, Jo and Ripley followed him into the back to Clare’s cell. Before she stepped into the cell, Jo turned and asked, “Ripley could you please go to the café and bring back some coffee for us?”Ripley set his satchel inside the cell and said, “Of course. Do you mind if I take time to order breakfast as well?”