“There has to be a mistake.”
“No. I’m afraid not. Mr. DeMarco—his attorney—told me at the reading of the will how he advised against Louis doing that, but he assured his attorney I was well off from my parents’ inheritance.”
“And you are not?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Louis took control of all my money when we married. He also sold the house I was raised in. Whether there is any money left from the inheritance or not doesn’t matter because he left everything to someone else.”
“There has to be a way to break that will. Certainly the courts will at least award you what was yours to begin with.”
“Perhaps. Wives don’t have much power, but in any event, I honestly can’t consider any legal recourse right now with these charges against you. I still have a roof over my head for another week.”
He pulled her to his chest. “You will have a home. I promise. We will get these charges dropped and leave Galveston. Trust me.”
There was that word again. Trust. She studied Hunter and saw a sincere, honest man. One who would fight for her and take care of her. Except she didn’t want to be taken care of any more. It wasn’t something she could count on. But rather than argue that point, it was better to focus on what he’d asked her to do.
“I will search the entire house from top to bottom. However, most likely his records would be in his office.”
Hunter shook his head. “I don’t want you nosing around the office. Who did Louis leave his half of the business to?”
“His partner, Mr. Sanders.” She tapped her chin. “He was very nervous before the reading of the will. But once he learned he still had the business, he perked right up. He was almost giddy when he left.”
“Naturally. If Louis was crazy enough to leave you with nothing, he could have done something equally stupid with his half of the business. How friendly are you with this Mr. Sanders?”
“Not very. Louis and I never socialized with him. He was always sort of a shadow in my life. I knew of his partnership with Louis, but I never spent any time with him.”
“So, no help there. Plus if Louis was scamming clients, Sanders is either the dumbest partner in the world, or he was in on it, too. Whoever killed Louis could be planning to murder Sanders as well.”
They quietly sat side-by-side, both consumed with their own thoughts. After a few minutes, Hunter pulled her into his arms. “I feel so useless. You need someone to take care of you. And here I am with my hands tied.”
Just what she didn’t want to hear. She was practically out on the street because she was foolish enough to trust Louis to take care of her.
You know that’s a stupid comparison.
She hated when her conscience made sense. She’d been so overcome with grief when Louis swooped into her life, that she’d never gotten a chance to know him. But she knew Hunter. He was an honorable man, and would probably do the right thing by her. Nevertheless, she needed to feel as though she could take care of herself.
She shuddered. Depending on a man with a hangman’s noose being readied was not a smart move.
“Of course I’m not going to take a plea deal,” Hunter shouted at Jesse.
“Settle down, son. I know you’re not going to take it, but by law I have to advise you what the District Attorney offered.”
“Well, I’ll advise you, in return, what the District Attorney can do with his offer.”
“You don’t have to. I already know and agree. He just wanted me to tell you this is his last offer.”
Hunter snorted. It was the night before the start of the trial. Because of the prominence of the man murdered, the entire process had been shoved through the judicial system in record time.
Emily had been removed from her home, and was staying in the same boardinghouse where Jeremy now had a room. According to the Ranger, who they were waiting on, he had gathered a lot of information on Smith and Sanders that Jesse could use for the trial. Emily hadn’t uncovered anything worthwhile in the mansion before she’d been escorted from her home.
It turned out Louis’s favorite whore had been the recipient of his largess. Yet the town, and the law enforcement organization, still treated the man’s memory as if he had been a fine, upstanding citizen.
Once they got ahold of Jeremy’s notes they would outline their strategy. Since the prosecution presented their case first, they had some time. The Ranger was supposed to have met them several days ago, but had sent one excuse after another why he couldn’t meet them. He’d at least provided, by courier, the list of witnesses he interviewed who would be able to testify. But nothing on what they’d said.
Hunter could feel Jesse’s frustration with the man, and he had reached the point himself where he wanted to just get Jeremy’s investigative notes and let him go on his way. He had too much riding on this trial to babysit a drug addict.
The hotel room Jesse and Hunter were staying in had every available space covered with papers, diagrams, notes, and evidence. Jesse had a lineup of character witnesses, but without Jeremy’s various interviews from the last few weeks, they had next to nothing.
“We should have had Jeremy give us his information as he went along. Keeping it all to the end was stupid. I should know better than that,” Jesse said.
“It was his idea. I trust him. I’ve worked with him for years, and that’s the way he manages his investigations. He says it doesn’t come together for him until he lays out all the facts and interviews, then can see a pattern. Believe me, he’s solved plenty of cases that way.”
“Was that before or after he became addicted to morphine?”
Hunter’s stomach muscles tightened. “That’s a good point.”
About three hours later, Jesse stood and stretched, rotating the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders. “I have to get out of this room. What do you say we take a walk over to the boardinghouse and see where the hell Jeremy is?” His clipped tone told Hunter just how irritated his uncle was.
Hunter shrugged into his jacket. “After we get something to eat. I’m starved.”
They continued to discuss the trial and what they could expect from the prosecution side as they dodged shoppers and office workers on their lunch break. As much as he tried to be confident, Hunter knew he was in a lot of trouble. The three strikes the State had against him were pretty strong.
He was also concerned about how Emily would be perceived by the townspeople once the District Attorney brought their relationship out into the open. The jury would hear about her trip to Guthrie, how Hunter followed her to Galveston, and most likely about their attempted escape. He would do anything to protect her from this, but hopefully Jesse’s strategy would soften the blows a bit.
This would be a mud-slinging trial. Jesse intended to subpoena Emily to testify to the beatings she’d endured at the hands of her husband. Her maid was on the witness list as well as Millie. He felt it was important to impress upon the jury that Smith had a darker side that he never showed to the public.
Jesse had cautioned Hunter that their testimony could go both ways. It only strengthened the prosecutor’s contention that Hunter killed Louis to free Emily from his grip.
According to the little bit of information Jeremy had provided, he had several Smith and Sanders clients ready to testify to their business practices. That might cast some doubt with the jury because irate clients who stood to lose a lot of money could certainly be pushed to violence. But they still had no viable suspect.
Except him.
They were just about through with their lunch when a man burst into the café. “Hey, the boardinghouse over there on Avenue O is on fire. Flames shooting up to the sky. What a mess!”
“Emily!”
“Jeremy!”
They both spoke at once. Jesse tossed money onto the table, and they ra
ced from the café. It was about a seven block walk to the boardinghouse. Jesse tried to wave down a taxi, but none were available.
Instead they shared a tense, silent run as they sprinted past shoppers and strollers. They were both out of breath when they rounded the corner on O Street.
The fire had apparently been doused, but smoke still rose in the air from where the firemen had soaked the area. The top left-hand side of the house was completely charred. Hunter scanned the crowd, his heart pounding. There were so many people gawking and blocking the entrance.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jesse grabbed him by the collar as he broke through a cluster of men in front of him.
“I have to get inside. Emily.”
“Hunter!” He swung around just as Emily plastered herself against him.
“Thank God you’re all right.” He ran his hands over her back, then cupped her head, studying her eyes. “What?”
Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, obvious signs she’d been crying.
“Jeremy.”
“What about Jeremy?” Jesse said.
“The fire started in his room.”
“Did he get out?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She took in great gulps of air. “The firemen were forced back by the flames. I was waiting downstairs in the parlor for him. We were going to walk together over to the hotel.”
Her voice faltered, and he rubbed her back again. “Take your time, honey. Relax.”
“He never came down, and then there was this loud noise, almost like an explosion. There were three of us in the house, all downstairs, except for Jeremy. We ran, but Jeremy never came out.” She started crying again.
Hunter looked up at the house. If Jeremy had been in that room when the fire occurred, the chances of him surviving were slim. He turned to Jesse. “What do we do now?”
Jesse shook his head, hands on his hips. “Wait here.” He strode over to where three firemen talked together. Jesse pointed to the house, the smoke now almost gone, gesturing with his hands. One of the firemen shook his head. Jesse stood for a minute, staring at the charred remains, before returning to where Emily and Hunter stood.
“It doesn’t look good. The men said they couldn’t reach that room with the heat and flames, but they didn’t hear anyone calling, so there is the chance he wasn’t in there. They can’t know for sure until they can enter the house, which they’re preparing to do now.”
Hunter rested his chin on Emily’s head as she wrapped her arms around him. “Jesse,” he said, his heart thundering once again. “If Jeremy was in that room when the fire happened, not only might he be dead, all his notes will have burned up with him.”
“I know,” Jesse said, glancing once more up at the house. “I know.”
Chapter 21
The gray haired older judge adjusted his spectacles and leaned against the back of the large leather chair in front of the courtroom. With a brisk nod in the district attorney’s direction, he said, “Call your first witness.”
Hunter sat next to Jesse at the defendant’s table in the Galveston County District Court. It had taken two days to select and swear in the jury. Two days of hell as they tried desperately to piece together the scant information they had salvaged from Jeremy’s investigation.
Jeremy had penned a lengthy list of witnesses to speak with. At least he had provided them with that before everything else went up in flames. Since Jesse and Hunter were both in court all day they only had the evenings to work on the list of people Jeremy had interviewed.
As the defendant in the case, Hunter was unable to talk to any of the witnesses, so Emily had asked several times to help. Each time Hunter was firm about her staying out of it. Who knew what Jeremy had uncovered? Everything protective in him welled up at the thought of her in danger.
It had been deemed by the fire chief that Jeremy had been in the room and had knocked over an oil lamp. Upon examination of the body, the coroner ruled that at the time of the fire, Jeremy had been passed out from a combination of alcohol and morphine and had either died from the mixture, or burned in the fire.
Hunter mourned his friend’s death, with little time to dwell on it since the request Jesse had made to postpone the trial had been denied.
“The State calls Dr. Malcolm Davies.”
A short, rotund man, Dr. Davies was the Galveston County coroner who had examined Louis’s body. Since the information he would provide was already in the medical examiner’s report, there would be no surprises with the man’s testimony.
“Can you please tell the court what you found when you examined the body of the deceased, Louis Smith.”
The man shifted in his chair, almost smiling, enjoying all the attention on him. With such a gruesome job, it was no wonder he relished a little bit of notoriety on occasion.
“Yes.” He fumbled with a piece of paper in his hand, and read. “Based on the examination I performed at the home of Mr. Louis Smith, I determined that the victim died at approximately four AM on October twenty-two, nineteen hundred and seven.”
He glanced up at the district attorney and waited, as if expecting a question. When none came, he shrugged and continued with his diatribe. “The deceased died of a bullet wound to the head from a distance of not more than six feet. In my determination, Mr. Smith died instantly.”
“Did you find a gun at the scene?”
The man narrowed his eyes, as if trying to remember. Hunter shook his head at the man’s performance. All of that information was contained in the report. The coroner was really enjoying this.
At least someone was.
“No, sir. There was no weapon.”
“Were you able to extract the bullet from Mr. Smith?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please tell the court what sort of a bullet you found.”
“We removed a forty-four caliber bullet from Mr. Smith’s head.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davies.” The district attorney turned and said, “I submit this report into the court records as State’s Evidence number one.” He walked to their table and handed the report over. “Your witness, Mr. Cochran.”
Jesse stood, but remained at his place. “Good morning, Mr. Davies. Where is the bullet you extracted from the deceased?”
The man squirmed. “I, um, I don’t know.”
Jesse raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?”
“No, sir. I placed it on the desk in my office and when Mr. Spencer asked for it, it was no longer there.”
“Indeed? How strange, Mr. Davies. Is it common practice for evidence as significant as this to be treated with such carelessness by the Coroner’s office?”
Davies blushed a bright red. “I put it on the desk with the intent of placing it in an envelope and handing it to Mr. Spencer personally, but when I returned to my desk the day of the shooting, there was a slight crisis in the office and it slipped my mind.”
“Slipped your mind?”
The man ran his finger around the inside of his collar as he nodded.
“But you are absolutely certain it was a forty-four caliber bullet?”
“Yes. Absolutely certain.”
“But you no longer have the bullet?”
“No, sir.”
Jesse stood with his hands on his hips, regarding the man until he squirmed. “That’s all.” He sat and picked up a pencil and began to write.
Mr. Spencer stood. “Re-direct, Your Honor.”
The coroner took his seat again, looking very unhappy indeed.
“Mr. Davies, tell the court why you are so certain the bullet was a forty-four caliber.”
“Because I own a forty-four Smith and Wesson and those are the bullets I use.”
“So you are very familiar with that type
of bullet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No further questions.”
A slight smile graced Jesse’s lips as he continued to go over his notes. Hunter tried to look interested, and he certainly should be, but all he could think about was Emily sitting behind them. Over the course of a few weeks she’d lost everything she owned. And once their association became public knowledge, she would most likely lose her status in the community as well.
The more time he spent in her company, the more he knew he wanted to make her his. Forever. With the scandal of divorce no longer a necessity, as soon as he was acquitted of these charges, he would go down on one knee and ask her the question that had been burning in his chest for weeks.
Which would never happen if he were swinging from a rope.
“The State calls Officer Eli Mallory.”
After being sworn in, the police officer took his seat and faced the district attorney. Hunter leaned back in his seat, his index finger and thumb cradling his chin as he studied the witness. Seeing him again brought back the frustration and anger he’d felt when Mallory had so blithely dismissed his charges against Smith.
The officer told nothing new or surprising in his tale of Hunter’s visit to the police station. Jesse continued to write as Mallory testified until the District Attorney turned to their table. “Your witness.”
Jesse rose, pushed the flaps of his jacket back, and stuck his thumbs into his vest pockets. “Good morning, Officer.”
Mallory nodded.
“You testified that Mr. Henderson visited with you at the police station and made some significant charges against the deceased.”
Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) Page 20