For a long moment Cadence stared at their entwined hands. Why did this man not hate her? He should be in outrage that his own brother had married a Jamison and yet he expressed comfort as though she were a beloved sister. “Why are you being so kind to me?” she blurted suddenly. “I don’t understand, Doctor. You and Mrs. Langston should hate me.”
“Oh, Cadence, is that what has been bothering you all morning?” Marissa questioned, rising to walk toward her. “Craig and I know that you weren’t part of your mother and sister’s scheming. If I recall you stood up for us, admitted what you knew of their plans. For that I—we are forever grateful.”
Cadence took in the warmth reflected in Marissa’s dark eyed gaze and knew she meant it. “Thank you, and yes, I worried over being here without Curtis all morning.
“Speaking of my brother, is he planning to visit us today as well?” Craig asked as he snared Christopher, his blond two year old, about the waist and swung him over a shoulder. “I tell you Marissa, I don’t know how you manage to chase him all day long.”
Cadence wasn’t sure which woman he expected an answer from first and hesitated until her brother-in-law turned to her expectantly. “I-I don’t know all of Curtis’s plans. He had some work to do with his shipping company,” she said, “and he was going to speak with the sheriff.” Christopher began to squirm and slithered to the ground to run to his grandma. “Do you have any idea where the sheriff plans to begin his investigation?” Craig asked.
“Not really.” Cadence held out her arms as Christopher hopped from Genie’s lap to her own. “I know Curtis wants to look into my father’s old business associates, but I don’t really know who any of them are.”
Craig nodded, a muscle working in his jaw. “Your father made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“I know. My entire family has made enemies,” Cadence sighed, and looked down at her hands. The Jamison family legacy was going to prove near impossible to live down.
“You haven’t made enemies, dear,” Genie smiled from across the settee, “most people know that.”
Cadence was unable to manage a return smile. “I have little hope that’s true.” She lifted the newspaper from the end table. “The reception I received yesterday was anything but a joyous home-coming, and Mrs. Morris seems content to nail my coffin closed if it will line her pockets and sell her husband’s newspapers.” She released a weighty breath. “I knew better than to come back here. It’s why I fled to Europe, to get away from people like her. I didn’t kill my father, but I am a Jamison, so no one will believe me.”
“We believe you, my dear,” Genie said in a motherly tone.
Cadence didn’t know how to respond and was relieved when the elderly butler stepped into the room to announce lunch.
The afternoon quickly dissolved into loving family chaos. It was exactly what her childhood had been lacking. What she hoped to create in her own home. Watching her brother- and sister-in-law interact, she knew what they had was exactly the sort of marriage she wanted with Curtis. Craig Langston was undoubtedly one of the tallest men she’d ever laid eyes on and while he positively dwarfed his wife in size she could dwarf any man with her personality. They were obviously perfect for one another.
Dare she hope Curtis could come to look at her the way Craig did Marissa?
* * *
Curtis remained perturbed by Kathleen Morris’s morning visit. What was her agenda? Was she so bored and stupid that she thought she could blackmail him into becoming her lover? Or was it simply that she wanted to control him? She’d always been one to stir the pot and lord any form of power over others, even—maybe especially—children, but tampering with a murder investigation? Stirring up opinion against Cadence? She was going to get someone killed! She could get Cadence killed.
He stormed out of the warehouse and marched determinedly through town. Striding up the steps to the sheriff’s office he blew through the door, pleased to find the very two people he’d wanted to see seated within, the sheriff and his brother David.
“Captain,” Sheriff Hudson stood the moment he stepped through the front door.
“Damn it.” Curtis slapped a copy of Kathleen Morris’ gossip column on his desk. “Can’t either of you do something to shut this gossip-monger down? That woman is going to have the entire city believing my wife is a ruthless killer.”
Lifting the paper the sheriff glanced at the title and shook his head. “She has already succeeded. I don’t like it either, and I realize she’s treading a fine line between freedom of the press and libel, but there isn’t anything we can do about it unless we prove her words to be false.”
“Actually, Curtis,” David shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “George and I have been discussing what to do about Cadence and the unrest within the city.” Raising a preemptive hand he continued carefully, “Now before you fly off the handle, just hear me out. We think it may be necessary to take her into custody. Protective custody.”
“Custody? Absolutely not.” Curtis slapped a palm to the flat of the desk. “I won’t hear of it. I’ve spent my share of time in those cells,” he jerked a thumb toward the jailhouse, “and I’ll be damned before I let you put her in one of them.”
“Just until we can sort this out, Curtis,” his brother placated. “I don’t want anyone taking matters into their own hands and forming a lynch mob. I’m sure you don’t either.”
“I said no, Davy.” Curtis swallowed back the image of an angry mob chasing after Cadence. “I can protect her and if you say one more word about it, so help me God, I’ll get on my ship and never return.” Looking the sheriff square in the eye he said with absolute certainty. “My wife didn’t do this. She wouldn’t squish a spider much less harm another human being.”
George Hudson was quiet for near a full minute, lost in thought. “I believe you,” his voice was quiet, “but when she disappeared, any sort of lead or investigation into Jamison’s murder ran stone cold. We had nothing to go on and the rumor mill judged her guilty before the man was cold in his grave. The gossip column is only going to make it worse,” George shook his head. “It’s almost as though Mrs. Morris has a vendetta against you.”
Curtis snorted but didn’t elaborate. “Have you found anything else?”
“Yesterday after I verified your whereabouts I went to speak with James Holbrook who had been Mike’s business partner.”
“Why didn’t you talk with Holbrook when all of this first started?” It was common knowledge Mike Jamison and James Holbrook had had a falling out when Mike had been discovered embezzling their company funds.
“Curtis,” the sheriff’s tone was placating, “it wasn’t him. Holbrook was out of town with his wife and children when Jamison was killed.”
Curtis ground his teeth, frustrated.
“As I was saying,” George stood and grabbed his battered hat from the hook, “I went to speak with Holbrook yesterday but he wasn’t at home. You’re more than welcome to come with me now.”
“I would appreciate that.”
James Holbrook, a banker of middling years who, a smile and personality which made his true motives difficult to gauge. Curtis had never been certain if the man was a snake in the grass or more simply a coward.
“Afternoon gentleman,” James smiled blandly as Curtis and the Sheriff stepped into his office at the back of the bank.
“Good afternoon, Jim,” Sheriff Hudson said pleasantly.
Curtis acknowledged the man with a stiff nod.
“What can I do for you today?”
“We wanted to ask you a few questions about Mike Jamison.”
Holbrook’s jaw tightened at the mention of his former business partner. “Yeah, well I heard that bastard’s daughter was back in town.” Suddenly appearing apprehensive he added, “But I didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t say you did,” George drawled casually. “But I was hoping you might know who he had business dealings with close to the time of his murder.”
The man let out his breath in
a rush and raised a brow as though to say he was the wrong man to ask. “I’ve got to be honest with you after I caught Mike stealing from my bank I didn’t want or have anything to do with him.”
“Is there anything at all you heard or saw? I don’t care how insignificant it seems.” George raised a hand solicitously. “Did Mike come to you at all?”
Holbrook sighed and ran a hand over his balding scalp. “Well, he did come to me once in late August,” Curtis and George shared a look, “said he needed a loan.”
“Why did he need the loan?”
“To pay off some bad debts, I refused him of course.”
“What sort of debts?”
Holbrook lifted his hands. “He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. All I know is that it had something to do with a man named Fielding.”
“Fielding?” A deep chill settled over Curtis as a vision of his former commander flashed before his eyes. “Did you say Fielding?”
At the affirmative nod Curtis felt the blood drain from his face and swayed on his feet. “Did you ever meet the man?”
“Once, he came into the bank to transfer some funds, the only reason I remember is because it was right after Jamison’s murder.”
“Chandler Fielding?”
“I believe so. Son, are you alright? You look a little pale. Do you need to sit?”
“Chandler Fielding who served with the Army of Northern Virginia?” The wheels began to grind in Curtis’ mind. “What did Jamison say about Fielding? What sort of trouble was he in?”
“I already told you that I don’t know. I didn’t want to know,” Jim gulped and pulled a chair around to sit.
“Why did you remember Fielding’s name? Jamison must have told you something for this to have stood out in your mind.”
“Look, Langston,” Jim’s voice took on a defensive edge. “I’ll tell you everything I remember. Mike Jamison came to me sometime last August asking for a two thousand dollar loan.”
“Two thousand dollars? That is an awful lot of money.”
“I know. That’s why I refused him, told him he’d already cleaned me out of at least that much. Mike swore he’d pay me back with triple the interest, and that he needed the money for a business venture. I asked him point blank if it was a business venture or gambling debts and he admitted that he needed half the money to pay off a debt, and the other half for a business scheme. I still said no and on the way out the door he mumbled something about his business with Fielding.”
George Hudson scraped a third chair across the floor as Jim paused for a moment, “Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to ask you about Jamison’s death?”
“I hadn’t met Fielding yet and after the man came in it sounded like a sure thing that Cadence Jamison had murdered her father.” Jim raised a hand as though to shield himself from Curtis’ glare.
“When exactly did Fielding come to make the funds transfer?” The sheriff’s voice cut through the tension.
“I can check the ledger to give you an exact date, but it was mid October.”
“How much money did he transfer?”
Jim swallowed and answered sheepishly, “Two thousand dollars.”
“And you didn’t put any of this together and tell the sheriff then?” Curtis leapt to his feet and turned a half circle. It all seemed so obvious to him.
“I’m telling you I didn’t think much of it at the time because his daughter was a sure thing for the murder.”
“My wife did not murder anyone,” Curtis growled and Jim drew back. “That should be obvious in light of what you’ve just told us.”
“Your wife?” Jim’s beady eyes widened and he mopped a bead of sweat from his brow. “My apologies, Langston, I’m only repeating what the better half of Charleston believed, but if you say she didn’t do it… then she didn’t do it.” Jim gulped beneath Curtis’s unwavering glare. “It is very possible this other man Fielding killed Mike Jamison.”
“Jim?” The sheriff drew his attention away from Curtis. “Has Chandler Fielding been back?”
“No,” Holbrook replied quickly. “That day was the first and only time I’d met him.”
“Would you recognize him again?”
“Absolutely, tallest man I’ve ever seen.”
Curtis and George locked eyes. “Time to go.”
“Jim,” George extended a hand. “Thank you for all of your help. I will be in touch. If Chandler Fielding comes back here you contact me immediately.”
“Of course, glad to be of assistance.”
Outside of the bank the men strode down the dusty street in silence for several minutes. “I take it you know Chandler Fielding?” George finally broached.
A muscle worked testily in Curtis’ jaw. “I knew him.”
“May I ask how?”
“I knew him as Lieutenant Colonel Fielding, but I haven’t seen him in about five years.”
“It sounds like he may be our man. Is there anything I should know about him?”
Curtis raked a hand through his sandy hair. “That man,” he shook his head with a wry snort, “is a cold hearted son of a bitch.” Curtis didn’t need to close his eyes to see the numerous events that had scarred him. He’d been running from Colonel Fielding and a multitude of despicable memories for five years. The man seemed inescapable, or perhaps one’s demons always came full circle.
Or maybe this was his chance.
Maybe, just maybe, putting Fielding away was the key to closing this nightmarish chapter of his life.
“Curtis?”
The sheriff had been speaking but he hadn’t heard a word. “What?”
“Would you care to elaborate further on Colonel Fielding?”
“During the war he was the sort to torture prisoners and enjoy it,” Curtis tightened a fist at his side. “Fielding didn’t harbor Yankees, he just murdered them. I need to see my wife,” he mumbled, turning away as thoughts and memories cascaded down on him. “Keep me up to date.”
“Of course.”
Twenty-three
Distracted, Curtis glanced down at the envelope newly delivered to his ship and flipped it onto his desk. He wasn’t in the mood to plow through the missive and with Genie’s dinner party looming he didn’t have the time. His step-mother had insisted upon a small party with a few intimate friends to celebrate his marriage and the new suspect in the Mike Jamison murder case. Curtis hated such gatherings, and given his father’s less than enthusiastic take on the nuptials it was bound to be a miserably tense affair.
“Don’t you clean up like a regular gentleman,” Cadence breezed into the cabin wearing a shimmering gown of pale lilac which perfectly matched her easily smiling eyes. Even though the rumors of murder and mayhem surrounding her and Curtis had soared to new heights in the last week, Curtis was pleased to see her mind had considerably eased when he’d told her of the new suspect. With the sheriff’s support surely everything would turn out for the best. “Are you ready to go?”
“If I say no can we skip the party?” he flashed a roguish grin and stepped forward to snare her about the waist. “You look beautiful,” he leaned in to steal a quick kiss. “Although most would beg to differ at my being called a gentleman,”
“Oh,” she giggled, “your manners aren’t half as bad as you let on.”
“Yes they are, but it is all part of my charm.”
“Please, Curtis,” she sighed as his lips traced the line of her jaw and down her throat. His hands twitched enticingly at the stays of her dress. “I don’t want to be late and I really want to make a good impression on your family.”
“Oh,” Curtis groaned slipping his arm about her waist and fitting her against him, “can’t we be just a little late?”
“Please,” she whispered weakly unable to resist the hypnotic touch of his fingertips, “it already took an hour to fix my hair.”
“Alright,” he whispered kissing her once more, “but I’m only doing this for you.”
* * *
The Highlands pl
antation house predated the American Revolution and rumor was that General George Washington himself had spent no less than a fortnight at the plantation in 1783. Whether this was truth, fiction or the trumped up version of an old legend Cadence couldn’t help but be fascinated by the historic site. As they drew near it quickly grew apparent that most of Charleston had not passed on an opportunity to visit the Langston plantation either.
“Oh, no, Curtis, I think half of Charleston is here.” Cadence groaned, dread forming a tight pit in her stomach. “I thought this was supposed to be a small party. I don’t want to be paraded before half the city while every still believes I killed my own father.”
Curtis’ jaw clenched as he lifted her from the hired coach. “I should have known Genie would go overboard. Are you going to be alright?” he gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.
“Good impression, right?” She turned a wan smile to him. “I think I can survive one evening.”
The front hall was packed as the pair passed through the ornate front door of the manse and Cadence inwardly cringed as several women audibly sighed when her husband swaggered with his typical reckless nonchalance into the room.
“Oh, thank the good Lord you’re finally here.” Genie swept across the room looking no less than enchanting in a shimmering periwinkle blue evening gown. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand us up this evening.”
“Would I do that?”
“Curtis Langston in the three years I’ve been your stepmother you have missed more family gatherings than I care to count. I have half a mind to believe you would duck your own funeral.
A crooked smile traversed his face. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to attend their own funeral. Attending your own funeral means you are in fact dead and I have no intention of finding myself in such a state anytime soon. Although,” he added, “this little get together may well prove the death of me.”
“Curtis,” Genie sighed in exasperation.
He raised a pointed brow. “In spite of the fact that you lied to us about the size and extravagance of this party I’m committed to putting on a good show.”
Cadence (Langston Brothers Series) Page 19