by Connie Mason
“It will work,” Casey said vehemently. “It has to. And I fully intend to find McAllister’s killer. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t care for Belle.”
“I’m just beginning to realize how much,” Naomi muttered.
“I wish you could convince Belle of that. I’m just grateful she realizes Tommy will be safe with me. I’ll need Wan Yo’s help to care for the boy while I’m working on Belle’s case, if that’s all right with you.”
“I’ll cooperate in any way I can if it means obtaining Belle’s freedom. Wan Yo, too. If the wedding is tomorrow there isn’t much time. I’ll find something nice for Belle to wear and bring it early so she’ll be presentable for her wedding. How were her spirits when you left her?”
“I’d like to say I helped but I’m not sure. Her eyes weren’t quite as lifeless as they were when I arrived, but she was far from her old self.”
“That’s a start, though.”
“I’ve got work to do,” Casey said as he turned to leave. “Meet me at the jailhouse at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Belle couldn’t believe she’d agreed to Casey’s bird-brained scheme. What did he hope to gain by marrying her while she remained behind bars? He’d explained that their marriage was for Tommy’s sake and she had to believe it was so, not because he was eager to get his hands on Tommy’s inheritance. Dare she believe him? Belle wondered despondently. She had to in order to remain sane throughout this ordeal. She was going to prison for a very long time, she knew that. There was no suspect save her. Casey was deluding himself if he thought he could find the real killer.
Sleep had eluded Belle last night and this morning her meager breakfast had lodged in her throat. Could this possibly work? she asked herself, not for the first time. Envisioning Tommy in an orphanage was excessively painful. Would Tommy be better off with Casey? Belle knew Tommy thought the world of Casey and at one time she felt Casey returned Tommy’s regard. But since learning that Casey had been employed by her father-in-law, she was no longer certain Casey felt anything for either her or Tommy. Detectives were notoriously hardhearted.
Unfortunately Casey had given her little choice in the matter. His arguments in favor of their marriage had been valid and, deep in her heart, Belle had to believe Tommy would prosper in Casey’s care. If she didn’t think that she would go insane with worry.
The sound of approaching footsteps brought Belle’s thoughts back to the present. Had Casey arrived already? Then she saw Naomi and sagged in relief. She wasn’t ready for Casey yet.
“You look like hell, honey. Haven’t you slept at all since you’ve been in this godforsaken place? This is your wedding day. I’ve come to cheer you up.”
Naomi’s rough bravado was just what Belle needed this bleak morning. “We both know why Casey is marrying me. He’s guilt-ridden over his part in all this. I do believe, however, that he’s genuinely fond of Tommy. If I didn’t believe that I couldn’t go through with this farce.”
“Nonsense,” Naomi said crisply. “I think you’ve misjudged Casey. He’s an honorable man. He didn’t know you when he took the job with McAllister and accepted his money. You’ve got to believe that. Now, enough of that negative thinking. Casey is working damn hard to free you. Here,” she said, handing her a bundle through the bars. “I’ve brought you a dress and some ribbons for your hair. Make yourself pretty for your bridegroom, honey. I’ll keep watch at the door so no one enters while you’re changing.”
Belle did the best she could with what Naomi had brought her and what little she had available in the cell. She washed and dressed in the attractive sky-blue gown and even threaded the matching ribbons in her hair. Some wedding day, she thought dully, with metal bars acting as a barrier between her and Casey. She had married Tom in a brief, clandestine ceremony, but at least he had loved her.
Casey arrived with his brother and the minister a short time later. Mark proved to be a charming rascal, with an engaging smile so like Casey’s it was uncanny. After introductions were made, Casey motioned for the others to back away so he could speak to Belle in private.
“Are you all right, love? You look beautiful.” He thought she looked ethereal and fragile in her blue dress and hair ribbons, and he wanted to envelop her in his arms, to protect her from harm, to rescue her from the ordeal of a trial. He had to be satisfied with marrying her.
“I know how I look,” Belle replied tersely, “and it isn’t beautiful.”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
She stared at him, thinking how handsome he looked. He had dressed up for the occasion. Broad shoulders stretched the fine material of his black suit, and beneath his crisp white shirt she imagined the heat and hardness of his tanned flesh. Shiny black boots and a string tie completed his wedding finery.
“I’d do anything for Tommy. I just want your promise that you’ll take care of him no matter what happens to me.”
“You have it,” Casey said, hurt that she still distrusted him. “Wan Yo will help. And Naomi can see him as often as she likes. You’ve met Mark, he has a way with kids. But I don’t know why you’re talking like this. You’re going to be around to take care of Tommy yourself.”
“I’m a realist, Casey. I’m as good as convicted.”
Casey spat out a curse. She sounded so defeated, so unlike herself, he wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. Unfortunately there were so few clues leading to another killer he felt nearly as frustrated as Belle.
“Let’s get on with the wedding,” he said, motioning the others forward.
At Casey’s signal they approached the cell. Mark and Naomi were to stand as witnesses. The reverend cleared his throat. Suddenly the sheriff appeared from the outer office, jangling his keys.
He shoved the wedding party aside and unlocked the cell door. “Never let it be said that Sheriff Rogan stands in the way of true love. I’ll hang on to your guns, Walker, while you stand beside your bride.” He laughed without mirth. “Don’t expect a wedding night. That’s going a little too far.”
Casey’s jaw clenched as he unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it to the sheriff. “You, too,” Rogan said as Mark prepared to enter behind Casey. Mark dutifully placed his holster and guns into the sheriff’s hands.
Then the wedding party entered the tiny cell and Casey took his place beside Belle. He grasped her hand. It felt cold and small, the bones exceptionally fragile folded within the warmth of his own large hand. “Get on with it, Reverend.”
Belle appeared too numb to feel or think during the blessedly brief ceremony. She gave the right answers at the right time, but afterward recalled few of the words spoken by the minister. It wasn’t until Casey placed a gold band on her finger and kissed her that Belle realized the ceremony was over. She was now Mrs. Casey Walker.
After hearty congratulations all around, the wedding party filed out. Sheriff Rogan returned to lock the cell, holding it open while he waited for Casey to leave.
“I’d like a moment alone with my wife,” Casey said, staring the sheriff in the eye. “It’s the least you can do.”
Rogan thought about it a moment, then nodded. “Very well, but no hanky-panky. This is a jail cell, not a honeymoon cottage.”
Casey saw Belle’s face whiten and his fists knotted in anger. He took a threatening step toward Rogan, who quickly shut the door and locked it. “Fifteen minutes, Walker.” Then he turned and strode away.
Casey returned his gaze to Belle, saw her stricken expression, and cursed the circumstances that had led to their marriage. It shouldn’t be like this, he thought. Belle should be an eager, smiling bride, not this shell of a woman who looked as if she had just walked through fire. Did she have no idea how much he cared for her? He wasn’t the kind of man who would marry a woman to satisfy his conscience. Nothing could have coerced him to marry Belle if he hadn’t wanted her.
Placing an arm around her narrow shoulders, he led her to the bunk and sat her down beside him on the hard surface. “This
isn’t the end of the world, love. I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t want to.”
“You pity me. I don’t want your pity. Or your guilty conscience.”
He tilted her chin and kissed her. The kiss was long and slow, growing increasingly more heated as her lips warmed beneath his. His arms tightened, crushing her against him. She felt stiff and unyielding and he despaired of ever recapturing the passion he had once elicited from her. When he tried to pry her mouth open with his tongue, she remained remote, uninvolved. He finally gave up and released her.
“You didn’t need to kiss me,” Belle said tonelessly. “You didn’t need to prove anything. We both know why you married me.”
Casey sighed. “Are we back to that again? I’ve got a helluva lot to make up for, Belle, and one day I will. Right now there is Tommy to consider, and convincing the judge to appoint me his guardian.”
Belle suddenly displayed more enthusiasm than she’d shown since Casey walked into the tiny cell. “Do you truly think it’s possible?”
Casey nodded slowly. “Your lawyer, Mr. Crowley, has an appointment with the judge this afternoon. He’ll present the request for guardianship and our marriage license, and ask for a hearing.”
“It means a great deal to me to know Tommy would be safe and happy. I don’t care if you’re doing this through guilt or pity, as long as you take care of Tommy while I’m in prison.”
“Dammit, Belle! You’re not going to prison.” He shook her hard then pulled her against him, kissing her so thoroughly she almost believed him. Almost but not quite.
“Time’s up.” Sheriff Rogan fitted the key in the lock and swung the cell door open, inviting Casey to leave.
Casey stood reluctantly, bringing Belle to her feet with him. “Don’t give up,” he said, squeezing her hands. “There are still two weeks remaining before your trial.”
The door clanged shut behind Casey, and Belle’s world shrank to the cramped confines of the cell. The vigor and enthusiasm Casey had brought with him into the cell had vanished when he left. The ring on her finger proclaimed her Casey’s wife but she felt only emptiness. They had married for the wrong reasons. His was guilt, and hers was need. Had love been involved it could have been a joyous occasion.
Belle’s lawyer greeted Casey with a hearty handshake. “Congratulations on your marriage, Mr. Walker.”
“Thank you, Mr. Crowley. We have our work cut out for us, don’t we?”
Crowley glanced away and cleared his throat noisily. “I haven’t been able to assemble much of a case in your wife’s defense. Hopefully you’ll be able to turn up something before we go to trial. But I do have a bit of good news,” Crowley said on a cheerful note.
“You’ve spoken to the judge?” Casey asked expectantly.
Crowley beamed. “Indeed I did. He’ll see you in his chambers tomorrow morning at precisely ten o’clock.”
“Much obliged,” Casey said. “Anything else I should know?”
“Not really. Until another suspect turns up we’ve nothing to work with. Have you spoken to Kellerman and the nursemaid yet? I understand they and McAllister’s servants are still living in the mansion.”
“I’m on my way there now,” Casey said. “See you tomorrow in the judge’s chambers.”
Kellerman answered Casey’s knock, and would have slammed the door in his face if Casey hadn’t shoved it open with his booted foot. “I have some questions for you, Kellerman. About the night T.J. McAllister was killed.”
“I told the sheriff everything I know.”
“Are you sure? McAllister isn’t here now to pay you for your silence. You’ll be turned out of this house very soon and maybe you won’t even get the money McAllister owed you. All I’m asking is a few minutes of your time.”
“Make it fast, I ain’t got all day.”
Casey asked Kellerman a few routine questions, the answers to which he already knew. Finally he asked, “What happened to the gun you took away from Belle? Belle said she saw you give it to McAllister when you tossed her out. She claims the gun wasn’t loaded. Is that true?”
Kellerman clamped his lips together and glared at Casey.
“When you’re called on to testify at the trial you’ll be asked that question, and you’d better tell the truth or you could end up behind bars for giving false testimony. Come on,” Casey wheedled, “what can it cost you to tell the truth?”
“No one asked me if the gun was loaded,” complained Kellerman.
“I’m asking you now.”
“What business is it of yours?” He gave a nasty laugh. “McAllister was right, you were f …”
Casey’s temper exploded. Without warning his fist shot out, slamming Kellerman in the mouth. Kellerman staggered backward, wiping blood from his mouth with one hand while reaching for his gun with the other.
Casey was the faster draw. “Don’t you ever mention my wife and that word in the same breath, is that clear?” His finger caressed the trigger.
One look at the menacing gleam in Casey’s eyes persuaded Kellerman to drop his hand to his side.
“Are you ready to tell me what you know now?”
Kellerman nodded, his gaze never straying from Casey’s weapon. “I gave the gun to McAllister.”
“And …”
Kellerman licked his lips. “He threw it into the bushes.”
It was not enough. “Before or after Belle left the premises?”
Kellerman paused for the briefest of seconds. “After. The woman had already picked herself up and limped off down the street.”
“Did Belle watch McAllister throw out the gun? Did she see where it landed?”
“How in the hell would I know? It was dark out.”
Casey’s eyes glowed with quiet menace. “You can do better than that.”
“I didn’t see her look back, that’s all I can say.”
“Very good. Now, was the gun loaded?” Casey knew this was a tricky question. Kellerman could always deny knowledge of it. The sheriff had already said no bullets were found on the ground outside the residence. He had to rely on Kellerman’s fear of reprisal if he lied.
“No.” Kellerman said in a low growl.
“I didn’t hear you. Was the gun loaded?”
“No! McAllister checked the chambers and seemed real put out when he found them empty.”
“Let me get this straight,” Casey said carefully. “McAllister tossed the unloaded gun in the bushes after Belle left the premises. So in effect, anyone could have picked that gun up and used it to kill McAllister.”
Kellerman bristled indignantly. “Are you blaming me?”
“No, I’m just trying to prove my wife’s innocence.”
“Are you really married to McAllister’s daughter-in-law?”
“We were married this morning. I have no more questions for you, except one. Were you one of the men who kidnapped Tommy?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t hurt the boy,” Kellerman protested. “McAllister said he was granted custody of the boy because his mother was a whore.”
Casey scowled but did not belabor the point. “And the letter you left? Was it McAllister’s idea?”
Kellerman nodded. “I didn’t know what was in it. I was just following the boss’s orders.”
“That’s all the questions. Don’t leave town, you’ll be called upon to testify. Is Miss Grundig around? I’d like to talk to her next.”
“Yeah, I’ll get her.”
Hilda Grundig was a prune-faced old maid still loyal to McAllister even after his death. She wholeheartedly concurred with Kellerman’s description of what took place the night of the murder.
By the time Casey returned to his hotel room he felt the heavy weight of failure. He had learned little beyond what he already knew. He found Mark waiting in his room and launched into an explanation of what he had accomplished, which was damn little.
“At least you’ll know tomorrow if marrying Belle paid off where Tommy is concerned,” Mark remarked. “I hope the j
udge is a sympathetic one.”
“I’m counting on it, but that’s not the only reason I married Belle. I really do care for her. Convincing her of it is another thing.”
Mark searched Casey’s face. “There are different degrees of caring. You wouldn’t turn your life upside down for a woman you merely cared for. Admit you love the woman, Casey.”
Casey walked to the window and stared down into the dark street. “I do love Belle. But she’ll never believe it. She believes I’m suffering from a guilty conscience. She doesn’t want my pity. She wants to end the marriage if she is found innocent.”
“Belle doesn’t know you very well, does she?” Mark remarked. “Will you let her end the marriage if she is spared prison?”
“Belle is innocent, Mark. If she still wants her freedom she can have it. But first I’m going to do everything in my power to change her mind.”
Mark laughed. “The lady doesn’t stand a chance.”
Casey met lawyer Crowley in the judge’s chambers the following morning at ten o’clock. Judge Winters nodded curtly and asked them to be seated.
“I have already read your request for guardianship of young Tommy McAllister, Mr. Walker. The marriage between you and the boy’s mother was rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
“Unusual but not sudden, Judge,” Casey said earnestly. “Belle and I would have married eventually.” Not exactly true but close. “Unfortunately T.J. McAllister interfered before we had time to let nature take its course.”
“Yes, I recall,” the judge said sternly. “I granted Mr. McAllister custody of his grandson on the grounds that the boy’s mother was unfit to raise him.”
“All those allegations were untrue, your honor. McAllister was a bitter old man who wanted revenge against a woman he disliked because he never considered her good enough for his son. Belle is a wonderful mother. She loves Tommy and Tommy loves her. The boy has a family now, he doesn’t belong in an orphanage with people he doesn’t know.”
“Saint Francis is a respectable institution. The boy is being well cared for and his properties managed by trustees appointed by the court.” He gave Casey a hard look. “Are you an opportunist looking for a quick buck? If you are, you’re wasting the court’s time.”