Millie bustled about, moving another tin filled with pins stuck into cushions, and placed cups and saucers on the table. A small plate of cookies joined the dishes.
Hunter pushed the cup of tea aside and leaned his forearms on the table. “Mrs. Smith is in a great deal of trouble. Her husband is violent and has used his fists on her before.” He studied her for a moment. “I hope this doesn’t shock you.”
She smiled sadly. “No. It doesn’t. I never knew if it was that bad, but I suspected as much. A dressmaker sees a lot. Old bruises tell tales, Mr. Henderson.”
Knowing she was on his side, he drew a deep breath and sat back. “I met Mrs. Smith when she moved to Guthrie several months back. I was unaware of her married state. We became . . . close.”
He watched her face for disapproval, but found none, so he continued. “I have only honorable intentions toward her. But before we can do anything I must get her away from her husband and safely residing with my family back in Oklahoma Territory.”
“She is very lucky to have you, Mr. Henderson. I have worried about her for quite some time.” She pursed her lips. “Despite Mr. Smith being well known in Galveston, I have had enough contact with him to know he is not what he pretends to be. And then there were the bruises.”
“Yes. And there is much more to the story, but that isn’t relevant to why I’m here today.”
She took a sip of her tea and regarded him over the rim of the cup. “Yes?”
“I would like to leave a message of some kind with you to give to Mrs. Smith. I’m sure there are times when the two of you are alone.”
“Of course. I have a dressing screen I use when there is someone else accompanying my client for a fitting.”
His original plan to pass a few notes back and forth to make arrangements for her departure went out the window at this news. His gut tightened with excitement. “And the dressing screen is portable?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible for you to move the screen in front of the door?” He nodded in the direction of the flowery curtain separating the store from the back area.
“I could do that.” She smiled. “I understand. Mrs. Smith goes behind the screen to change, and then leaves through the back door.” She tapped her lips with her index finger. “I think that could work.”
“There is a problem, however,” he said.
“What?”
“When her driver discovers she is gone he could cause some trouble for you.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Perhaps. But I am sure he will be much more concerned with trying to explain her disappearance to Mr. Smith.”
“Then you will do it?”
“Normally I would never come between a woman and her husband, but in this case I fear for her as well. He is a brutal man, that Mr. Smith. And Mrs. Smith is so lovely and sweet. She deserves better.” She sat back and grinned. “Tuesday she will have a surprise when she comes for her fitting.”
Hunter stood. “Thank you so much.” Feeling much better than he had when he entered, he strode through the store and out the front just as two women entered. His mind busy with his plan, he tugged on the brim of his Stetson and went on his way.
Monday night Hunter met Jeremy at the Café again. If everything went right, he and Emily would be leaving Galveston tomorrow. He needed to go over his plans with Jeremy so he could carry on the investigation while Hunter was gone.
They shook hands and he took a seat across from Jeremy, who didn’t really look much better than the last time Hunter had seen him. But at this point he needed the man’s expertise and presence in Galveston, so it was best to overlook the morphine problem for now.
“Have you eaten?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been here for a while.”
Noting the absence of dirty dishes in front of him, Hunter dismissed his lie and focused on what was important right now.
“Tomorrow Emily and I are leaving Galveston.”
Jeremy nodded for him to continue.
“I worked it out with Millie, the owner of the dress shop where Emily goes every Tuesday. Millie has agreed to help since she knows the danger Emily is in right now. She apparently has seen some bruises and has had some concerns for a while.”
“What a bastard, to take his hands to a woman.”
“Well, I think we’ve established that. I have train tickets to Oklahoma City where we will catch the last train to Guthrie tomorrow night. I’m going to leave Emily with my family there, and travel to Kansas.”
“Ellsworth? I’m still waiting to hear from them.”
Hunter nodded. “Yes, I need to see them myself, take a look at their records. I want to check exactly what information the sheriff’s department has. I don’t expect much since I was the only witness and I never talked. Possibly someone saw Smith leave the bank. In any event, I want to get as much information as I can.”
“How will you get from the dress shop to the train station? I assume you won’t have a lot of time.”
“I arranged for a taxi to pick us up right around the time Emily goes there.” He grinned. “By the way, she doesn’t know any of this. I saw Millie last Thursday and spent the time since then setting this up. I can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Jeremy fiddled with the spoon on his saucer. “I have another appointment with Smith to go over my ‘investments.’ I hope to get him to show his hand a little bit, maybe put something in writing on what he can guarantee me in the way of a return. I’m assuming he will offer something that is not possible, which might help our ‘running a scam’ charges.”
“Also poke around and see if he’s had problems with violence with anyone else. From what the police officer told me, Smith is very well regarded in the community, but it seems unlikely he would be able to keep that temper in check all the time.” Hunter’s experience with the Rangers taught him that violence was rarely directed at one person. Usually someone with a temper like Smith’s would show it in other ways, especially when stressed.
“You just take care of your lady, and I’ll handle everything here until you get back.”
Hunter hesitated, wondering if he should mention the drugs again. It was obvious to anyone familiar with drug dependence that Jeremy was suffering with an addiction to morphine. He hated to leave his friend like this, but he had to get Emily away as quickly as possible.
He assuaged his conscience by telling himself that most likely bringing it up would not make a difference, and since he was leaving town anyway, it would be best to let it go. He stuck his hand out. “Thanks. I’ll see you when I get back. It might not be for a few weeks.”
He left and returned to the boardinghouse. He searched out Mrs. Pettiford to let her know he would be leaving the next day, and she should not hold his room. His landlady was sorry to see him go and assured him he was always welcome back.
A few hours later he looked around his room with satisfaction. He had everything packed, including Emily’s suitcase from their interrupted attempt to flee. Tomorrow he’d double check with the taxi driver to make sure he was ready to meet them behind Millie’s dress shop at eleven o’clock.
This time there would be no mistakes or trip-ups.
Chapter 16
After tossing and turning all night, Hunter rose and checked everything once more. He took a brisk walk to a coffee shop for breakfast. It was more to pass the time until he met Emily since he was unable to put anything into his stomach besides strong coffee. While he was there he must have checked his jacket pocket for the train tickets a dozen times.
As he arrived back at his boardinghouse, two men stood at the front door speaking with Mrs. Pettiford. His curiosity was piqued when he recognized Officer Mallory, along with an older man dressed in a plain business suit. His heart sped up when the thought crossed his mind that s
omething had happened to Emily.
Then he calmed down when he realized no one except Millie and Jeremy knew of his connection to her. He walked up the steps to hear Mrs. Pettiford say, “Here he is now, officers.”
Both men turned and stared at him. He was startled when Mallory moved his hand to cover his gun. What the hell was that all about?
“Step inside, son.” The older man said.
Hunter moved into the house and followed Mrs. Pettiford and the men to the parlor. Since all the residents were at work, they had the house to themselves.
Officer Mallory moved behind Hunter and said, “Hands behind your back, Henderson.”
“What?” He turned, but Mallory had grabbed his arm to stop him from moving.
“I said hands behind your back.” The officer tugged on Hunter’s other arm.
“Not unless you tell me what the hell this is all about.”
“You know what it’s about. Now hands behind your back.”
Taking a deep breath, Hunter complied, his mind in a whirl as fear licked at him like flames from an out of control fire. Had Louis discovered his plan to take Emily away and had him arrested for attempted kidnapping? He looked at Mallory over his shoulder. “Can you at least tell me why I’m being arrested?”
The older man spoke. “Son, you can play dumb all you want, but you know as well as we do why you’re being arrested.”
He was starting to get angry. Their condescending attitudes, along with whatever game they were playing grated on his already overstretched nerves. “I hate to disappoint you, but your confidence in my knowledge of what the hell is going on here is misplaced. I am a former Texas Ranger, and I know you cannot arrest me without telling me what I’m charged with.”
The older man in a suit gave him a half smile and shook his head, switching a toothpick back and forth in his mouth. “All right, Mr. Henderson. We’ll do it your way.” He pulled a legal document from his inside jacket pocket. Bracing his feet apart, said, “Mr. Hunter Henderson, it is my duty as Chief of Police of the Galveston Police Department to inform you that you are under arrest for the murder of Mr. Louis Smith.”
Three Hours Earlier
Emily took one last glance in the mirror and left her bedroom. Tuesday morning. The day she visited Millie. Hopefully Hunter would have left a message for her at the shop. Every place she’d gone since Hunter’s thwarted rescue attempt, Martin had followed her right inside and planted himself where he could see her. Thank goodness Millie had a dressing screen, or she was afraid the driver would refuse to leave the room so she could change.
The one thing she was grateful for was Martin keeping his word. He hadn’t told Louis about her attempted escape. The only reason she could fathom for his discretion was how poorly it would have reflected on him with her getting so close to disappearing again. Self-preservation was a strong motivator.
The dining room was empty and from appearances, Louis had not yet arrived. Always more relaxed when she didn’t have to share a meal with him, she poured tea into her cup as the young maid, Cassie, entered the room.
“Good morning, Mrs. Smith. Are you ready for breakfast?”
“Yes, Cassie. Please ask Cook to prepare a soft boiled egg and toast.”
Emily picked up the newspaper alongside Louis’s place. For him to not already be down for breakfast was odd. But as long as she was free of his presence, she would read his newspaper and enjoy her food.
She skimmed most of the stories, her mind already on her visit to Millie’s shop. Hunter’s whispered words when she’d left him the other night had kept her hopes up. Her mind was certainly out of ideas, so for the time being she had to trust someone else to come up with a plan. As much as she cared for Hunter, and knew his determination to free her, trust was still not an easy thing for her. Her history of depending on men certainly hadn’t been stellar.
Cassie arrived with her breakfast and Emily enjoyed the perfectly cooked egg while she gazed out the window at the beautiful fall day. All the summer flowers had died and been pulled out by the gardener. In their place were lovely pansies, alyssum, and snapdragons, creating a colorful splash of beauty throughout the garden and along the pathway.
Today is going to be a wonderful day. I can feel it in my bones.
After eating, she folded the newspaper as best she could so Louis wouldn’t suspect she’d read it before him, and headed to her sitting room.
Too restless to do embroidery and thinking perhaps a book might settle her nerves until it was time to leave, she left the sitting room and strolled to the library. A quick glance in the dining room on her way indicated Louis had still not come down. Maybe he hadn’t even come home all night. If he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
She opened the library door. Before she took one step, her eyes were immediately drawn to Louis slumped over in his chair behind his desk. Half his face was missing, replaced with shredded skin, bone, and blood. Massive amounts of blood . . . splattered on the wall behind him and over his shirt. Emily sucked in a large breath and screamed, covering her mouth with her hands. The screams continued as black dots gathered on the outside of her vision then swirled to meet in the center. She slid to the floor in a crumpled heap.
The next thing Emily knew, she was lying prone on the sofa in the parlor. Maria sat in a chair next to her, patting her hand. “Mrs. Smith. Oh, thank God you’re awake.”
Memories came rushing back to her. Before she could help herself she leaned over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor. “I’m so sorry.” She began to weep.
Maria had jumped back. “That’s all right, I’ll get you and the floor cleaned up.”
“I’ve sent for the police, Mrs. Smith.” Martin stood across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
Emily took the cloth and glass of water from Maria’s hands and sat up. The smell from her own vomit, along with the picture in her mind of how she found Louis was tightening her stomach muscles. She swung her legs over the side of the sofa and stood, reaching out to hold onto the edge of a table.
“Perhaps you should sit back down,” Martin said.
“No, I have to . . .” Do what? She had to get away, had to meet Hunter. She needed his arms around her, would need his strength in the coming days. But how in heaven’s name could she get a message to him? Her thoughts were interrupted by two police officers in uniform and another older man dressed in a suit entering the parlor behind Maria. When had she left the library? Her mind was in a jumble.
The older man approached her, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Mrs. Smith. May I offer my condolences on this horrific event? You can rest assured that we will have the perpetrator of this heinous crime behind bars quickly.” Apparently seeing the confusion on her face, he added, “I am Chief of Police, Edward Grafton.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flicked to the other two.
“These are Officer Mallory and Officer Davidson from the Galveston police force.”
Maria entered with a bucket of water and cloths, obviously to clean up the mess she’d made. Aware of the smell in the room, Emily nodded to the three men and said, “Gentlemen, will you please join me in my sitting room?”
All of them, with Martin tagging along behind, filed into the sitting room. The exceedingly feminine room looked crowded and wrong with several men standing in there. She waved them all to seats, but it was obvious from their expressions they didn’t feel comfortable on the delicate chairs.
Chief Grafton opened a notebook. “Before we observe the murder scene—sorry,” he hastily added when she gasped. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
He licked his thumb and flipped through pages with writing already scrawled on it until he came to a blank page. “Now. When was the last time you saw Mr. Smith?”
“At dinner last evening
.”
“And did he seem normal? I mean was he upset, depressed, anxious?”
Did they think he killed himself? That was something she hadn’t considered. “Yes. He seemed normal. We discussed a party we were to attend this coming weekend.” Not that she’d wanted to go to a party. He’d already given her a list of guests she was to probe for information.
“Where did you and Mr. Smith go after you finished dinner?”
“I retired to my bedroom to read. As far as I know, Louis went to the library.”
“Is that your usual routine if you have no events to attend?”
“Yes.” No need to mention that other nights Louis would go to the library, but then slip out after a few hours to visit the brothels. If anything she considered that practice a reprieve for her.
“And when did you leave your bedroom?”
“This morning. When I came downstairs for breakfast.”
The Chief wrote furiously, sliding a toothpick back and forth in his mouth as he shot questions at her. Her brain had settled down a bit and she was beginning to think beyond her horrible discovery. She was free. Louis was dead. He could never hurt her again.
“Mrs. Smith. One last question before we examine the body.” The Chief’s question interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Do you know of anyone who would want to kill your husband?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) Page 15