Chapter Forty-Seven

Drenched in sweat, Luke sat up on his cot, the stillness and stuffy, hot air pushing at his lungs. His clothes, the fresh ones Faith had brought him, were stiff from a couple of nights’ sleep. Feeling movement on his neck, he slapped away the insect, uncaring. Remnant fleas from the blanket Faith had replaced still shared the cell with him, making his life miserable. He needed a real bath in the worst way.

When would this ordeal be over? By now, Flood and his brothers must be on their way, not that Jack would be persuaded by anyone at this point. Brandon might talk some sense into him since he’d been his boss for several years, but that was no guarantee. This murder charge would go all the way to trial, and he couldn’t do a thing to change that.

Luke looked out of his bars into the darkness as someone stepped into the room.

“Luke,” Joe Brunn said, coming closer.

Surprised to see his old friend, Luke pushed away his disappointment. Five days had passed since Joe’s return and not much had changed. “Joe. What’re you doing out this late? It must be past one o’clock.”

“Couldn’t sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

The scant moonlight coming in the window high above his cot made seeing his friend possible. “Nope. Fleas keep me scratching.”

“I was surprised to find the office empty,” Joe said, looking around. “Where’re Jack and Deputy Clark?”

“Don’t know.”

They gazed at each other in the darkness.

Joe’s shoulders sagged and he heaved a deep sigh. “Beyond what you might think of me, Luke, I am trying, but no one is listening. I’ve decided to ride out tomorrow. Head for Y Knot where I can send some telegrams myself. See what I can do for you. Maybe round up that lawyer Flood uses.”

“What about Pearl? Won’t she mind?”

Light enough to see Joe, but too dark to read his eyes, his friend’s lack of a response gave Luke his answer. “You don’t have to do that, Joe. I don’t want to put you in a bad spot with your new wife. I’m sure Flood and Brandon are on their way. The last time I heard, the law says I’m innocent until proven guilty. I’ve got nothin’ to worry about since I didn’t kill Benson. They’ve got no proof.”

Joe scuffed his boot. “I hope that’s the case, Luke. I feel like I don’t know these people anymore. But since Mildred’s death last night, people have been more apt to listen. That’s something. A handful think she was murdered by the same person who killed Benson.”

A crack in the wall. Hope squeezed his chest. “That could be true. What do you think?”

Joe sputtered. “How can you question me? You know I’m on your side. I don’t know what to think about Mildred, if she was murdered or not, but someone out there killed Pearl’s brother. Whether he’s still around, I aim to clear your name. No McCutcheon would kill in cold blood for any reason. That’s a fact I can stake my life on.”

Luke forced a smile and tried to dredge up some of the old feeling he’d once had for Joe. “That’s good to hear.”

Joe stepped close to the bars.

His face was tortured. Too bad Luke didn’t have any words of comfort. He had his own problems to worry about.

“Come on, Luke,” Joe said. “You can’t think that little of me. I’ve never doubted you or your innocence.”

Luke steeled against the retort he felt like slinging. “I don’t think anything about anybody, except Jack Jones. That man is difficult to figure out. And I’ve had plenty of time here to do my fair share of thinkin’. Either he’s guilty or he’s covering for someone else. He can’t be so dumb as to take that woman at her word.”

“I never have liked Blanche. I was surprised last year when she and Benson began courting. He was in way over his head. She never seemed like she liked him much, let alone loved him. She henpecked him nonstop. Made his life a living hell…”

Luke grasped the steel bar, appreciating the coolness on his warm palm. Here was a topic he was interested in. “That right? She have anyone else around town she seemed to like more than Benson?”

In the darkness, Joe straightened. Grasped one of the bars himself. “You mean like a gentleman friend?”

Joe’s tone said he’d never given that a thought. “I wouldn’t call him that, if you catch my meaning. More like a scoundrel. From what I hear, Benson was often gone. Maybe she got lonely. Didn’t like all the solitude out at the cabin. Those woods a quarter mile out of town are the perfect place for a clandestine meeting.”

Joe frowned. “Pearl wouldn’t like you talking like that. She’s fond of Blanche.”

“Good thing Pearl’s not here. You ever see Blanche frequenting a business or house more often than others?” Luke lifted his pant leg and rubbed off some crawly creature. “Joe?”

“I’m thinkin’.” His father’s good friend shifted his weight from one leg to the next. “She’d walk into town often enough, most times without Benson. I’ve seen her in the restaurant frequently chatting with Daniel Clevenger or passing the time with Jed Kasterlee outside the hotel, since the hotelier thinks all married women are fair game. Passed him a little while ago on my way over, as a matter of fact.” Joe made a humming sound in his throat. “Now that I’m thinking on the subject, I can see where you’re going. Deputy Clark used to follow her around like a sick puppy up until the day this happened. I’ve noticed her in discussion with Pink Kelly at his livery. Laughing with him, more than a married woman ought. Now that you brought this line of thinking to the forefront of my mind seems all the men liked her. She even used to look in my direction before I made my feelings for Pearl known.”

“But which one did she like, Joe? That’s what we have to figure out.” Luke wished he could trust Joe enough to tell him about the bloody boot print the men found in the cabin, but he didn’t dare. Before Joe married Pearl, Luke wouldn’t have hesitated. “What about Jack Jones? Did Blanche ever have any doin’s with him?” Him being guilty would explain Jack’s eagerness to lock up Luke.

“Jack? Heck no. She belittles him constantly.”

Hmm, the deputy, the liveryman, the innkeeper, the restaurateur. Four single men who could easily have taken up with the ex-schoolteacher behind Benson’s back. But he needed to keep an open mind. Not limit the possibilities. Priest’s Crossing had plenty of men, and any could be the murderer.

He thought about Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone. Were they still around town somewhere? They hadn’t made their presence known to anyone else since her first visit. The last thing he wanted was for his little sister to be hurt trying to help him.

“How’s Faith holding up? And Colton? For a time on that ride I gave ’em into Priest’s Crossing years ago, before they met up with Ward Brown, I thought I might have a chance to win Faith’s heart for myself.” He chuckled, but the sound didn’t hold much mirth. “That feels like thirty years ago, my friend. I was mighty glad to hear you rescued her and took her back to the Heart of the Mountains. Everyone knew you two were meant for each other. She doing all right?”

“The best she can under the circumstances.”

Joe took a deep breath. “I best get back before Pearl misses me. Is there anything I can get you before I leave? Or tomorrow?”

Luke couldn’t stop a quick glance around the dark enclosure. Was he actually getting used to being locked up? Tomorrow would be two weeks! Thirteen days longer than he could stand. “Only my freedom, and you can’t deliver that. Roady stopped in around eleven, and Shad is out there somewhere standing guard.” And Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone. For an imprisoned fella, he did have a lot of people looking out for his hide. That alone should make him feel better.

“All right then, I’m gone.”

“If you remember anything else about Blanche, get the information to Roady or Francis if you can’t to me.” His grip tightened on the bar. “Don’t tell Jack. I appreciate what you shared tonight.”

“You know I will. G’night.”

A foreboding sensation swirled inside Luke as he watched his friend exit. Was he kiddin’ himself? Would Jack and Deputy Clark act on the trumped-up charges? As the days passed, Luke was less sure of anything. That he’d ever get out, see the ranch again, or hold his daughters. What he wouldn’t give for a deep lungful of clean mountain air.