The Talisman - Crisscross
Page 60
Trish refused her lunch, having lost her appetite with the realization of what she had done. She had not proved Quinn innocent beyond a reasonable doubt, as she had planned. Judge Fairbanks had made her point mute by his introduction of her possible guilt. She had instead scrambled to present another possibility and in the process placed her own innocence in question. It remained entirely possible that she would not only fail to prove who murdered Albert, but to hang for the crime herself.
She mulled the trial’s proceedings over, time after time. She knew that the jury might decide against her. A good lawyer could sway their decision. She had seen it done countless times but knew that defending herself could prove risky. The fact remained. Would the jury feel her speaking up was a trick or an effort to get at the truth? Fear gripped her. It wasn't a fear of death, or a fear of the indignity of hanging, but fear of the unknown. Her logic no longer bore out that she would exist in the future, but what could she do at this point?
"Trish, are ya okay?"
Trish jumped when Quinn spoke. Unlike Moore and Quinn, she didn't occupy the jail's single cell. She sat on a chair between the cell and the potbelly stove that heated the one-room jail, her hands shackled in her lap. Tuckett had taken his lunch outside and left the door ajar to keep an eye on his prisoners.
Quinn reached out to her, putting his hands through the bars to touch her. Instead of moving in his direction, she pulled back. A decision to protect him was instantaneously made. Should she hang, she wouldn't take him with her. The decision, made almost without thought, brought tears to her eyes. What he meant to her seared through her heart. Try as she had to deny her feelings, she loved him, possibly more than her own life.
"What's wrong? It's all but over. Y'are bein' here is just a formality."
"Hobble your lip," Moore yelled from his corner of the cell. "Just 'cause ya bedded her ain't no reason to plot to see me hanged. I ain't takin' the noose for either of ya."
Sheriff Tuckett pushed through the door. "Stop yer catterwallin' Moore."
"But they're over there scheming to see me hanged," Moore whined.
Tuckett laughed. "It ain't up to them, ya fool. It is up to the jury. If'n it were up to me, I'd hang the lot of ya." He leered at Trish. "A course I ain't above bein' bribed by a skirt, hey, girlie?"
The hair on Trish's neck bristled.
"Why, you dirty dog," Quinn snarled. "Ya lay one hand on her…"
"And you'll what? 'Case ya missed it, yer the one behind bars. Well, one of the ones. I'm a free man, and that means I’m free to do as I please."
"I don't think your abuse of a woman is what your uncle had in mind." Trish gathered herself, ready to defend her virtue. She glanced at Quinn, seeing him swallow hard.
Sheriff Tuckett reached for the door behind him, pushing it shut. He stepped toward her, leering hungrily at her. "Looks like I'll finally win one over you, Jackson," Tuckett chortled. "You can be sure that I'll take right good care of her. She won't be cold or lonely. She might even find she likes it."
"You animal." Quinn strained against the cell bars, obviously ready to fight.
Moore cowered in his corner, saying nothing.
"You wouldn't dare." Trish warned, "I'll press charges and have witnesses to back me up."
"Dead men tell no tales." Tuckett sneered, towering over her.
Trish sprang from her chair in the direction of Quinn and the cell. In spite of the bars separating them, he was her only safety here. Her motion did nothing to slow Tuckett's advance. A wicked smile curled the edges of his mouth, making him more than ugly. He reached for her manacled arms, pulling her toward him.
"Tuckett, you do and it will very well be your last mistake," Quinn warned from his incarcerated side of the room.
Fighting, Trish retreated and Tuckett let her go. She stared at him, unwilling to scream, and took another step backwards. She could go no further. She trembled in the corner, the jail wall at one shoulder and the cell bars at the other.
Chapter 44