Escaped (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 4)

by Elaine Manders

  Jake took the horses’ reins, handing Rhyan’s mount over to him.

  Wexman ran up behind them. “They say the trial starts tomorrow.”

  “That’s right,” Jake said, and he’d be glad when it was over.

  “I’m going to go.”

  Both Rhyan and Jake turned to look at the smarmy-looking man. “Harp and me were friends from way back. I want to go see him get justice.”

  That didn’t deserve an answer and they didn’t give him one. As far as Jake was concerned, Harp Munson had already received justice.

  They climbed into the saddle in unison. “Good-day to you,” Rhyan said. “Don’t interfere with my men.”

  Chapter 26

  Plop…plop...plop. Water dripped from somewhere in this mostly underground cell. It must have rained in the night, but Juliette wouldn’t have noticed. Her troubled thoughts had kept her suspended in a state of semi-wakefulness until Miss Lydee called her this morning.

  She’d dressed for the day in a plain gown of navy and white linen, the only adornment a white lace collar. Mr. Ward advised to wear her Sunday best to the trial, and this dress was chaste enough to wear in God’s house.

  Was it nine o’clock yet? She had no way of knowing. The sheriff would come get her when they were ready, and until then, she counted the number of times she circled this small cell. Dread stalked right behind, and she had to keep reminding herself Jake would be sitting beside her.

  One thread of hope kept her from climbing the walls. Nothing happened to those who belonged to God by accident. Purpose came with the bad as well as the good. And this experience opened her eyes to the plight of those who found themselves behind these bars.

  She had it much better than most. Thanks to the O’Grady sisters she could leave at night and sleep in a normal bed. And this cell wasn’t bad. They had scrubbed the filth, leaving the faint scent of lemons instead of the vile smell. A table stood in the corner, covered with a doily and several books stacked on top, including a small New Testament.

  What would future prisoners think of the O’Grady sisters’ doily-covered table? Doubtless they’d scorn it and ridicule because darkness hated the light.

  I was in prison and you visited me.

  If she won this case and returned with Jake, she’d take a look at the little jail in Westerfield, the one Jake said he knew well. Although she still found that hard to believe. Jake was such a good, godly man.

  Maybe a clean cell and doilies would help soothe the soul like music. Another thought struck. Why not bring in music to drown out the curses? They could put a piano in the outer room, and get someone to play on Sunday afternoons. Katherine said she needed practice at the piano. She might welcome the idea.

  And the ladies sewing circle might be persuaded to make a quilt and crochet doilies.

  She gazed at the bare walls. They could embroider verses to hang on the walls. Maybe John 3:16. In the fertile ground of her imagination, more ideas sprouted.

  Yes, nothing happened without purpose.

  The clanging of the keys jolted her. Sheriff Greer opened the door, his features impassive, as always. “It’s time, Miss Kendal.”

  She drew in a fortifying breath and walked beside him down the hall, through his office into a wider hallway to the courtroom. Before taking her in, he said, “I wish you luck, Miss Kendal.”

  Hoping for more than luck, she replied, “Thank you.”

  She caught sight of Jake, standing at the defendant’s bench. Further down, Miss Lydee, Miss Maybelle, Thad, and Rhyan were seated. The packed courtroom buzzed. Men with their notebooks resting on their knees were doubtless reporters.

  The sheriff took his place on the prosecutor’s bench beside a dignified man with gray hair and beard who eyed her with undisguised hostility. Jake nodded that way as she took the space beside him. “Mr. Hawkins, representing the state’s case,” he whispered.

  Mr. Ward came from behind, reaching across Jake to shake her hand. “Hold onto your faith, Miss Kendal. Hawkins will make things look much worse than they are the first day.”

  “Then court will extend into tomorrow?”

  “After seeing all the evidence the prosecutor intends to present, I expect so.”

  She lifted her head and tried to smile for Jake, thanking God for his presence.

  The judge came out from a side room when announced. His silver hair proclaimed him to be near sixty, and his mouth set in a grim line below a trimmed moustache, bushy brows drawn into a scowl.

  He banged his gavel, and everyone sat except for the lawyers. “Are you ready for the prosecution, Mr. Hawkins?”

  “I am, Your Honor.” His voice boomed with confidence.

  “And you, Mr. Ward?”

  “The defense is ready, Your Honor,” Mr. Ward said.

  “We’re going to dispense with opening statements, so save your arguments for closing, gentlemen. I want to finish these proceedings today, if at all possible. Call your first witness, Mr. Hawkins.”

  Juliette didn’t know whether the judge’s rushing the case through was good or not. She got the impression Mr. Ward wanted to have tomorrow all to himself.”

  “I call Mr. Abner Wexman as my first witness.”

  Wexman marched to the stand, preening himself for the reporters a moment before placing his hand on the Bible.

  He was sworn in, and under Hawkins’s questioning went into an account of his business relationship with Harp, how he’d taken possession of the Kendal property after the family vacated. In painful detail, he related his desire to dig up the tomato patch and plant turnips. This earned an eye-roll from Miss Lydee.

  “Now on the twenty-first of August, you began working to clear the tomato patch and pulled up a root.”

  “That’s right. It wasn’t a tomato root. They don’t grow too deep…must have been from one of the trees.”

  “Never mind speculating. What happened when you pulled up the root?”

  “A piece of clothing came up. A shirt.” Wexman smiled when murmurs went around the courtroom.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Well, I uncovered enough dirt to tell it was Harp Munson’s clothes. I recognized the vest he wore all the time. I stopped digging and went to get the sheriff.”

  “You didn’t touch the remains?”

  “No, sir. I didn’t want to disturb the evidence because I figured he must have been killed.”

  “Never mind what you figured. What did you do when you returned with the sheriff?” Hawkins continued his questioning for over an hour, going into detail about how Juliette had contested Wexman’s claim to her house and when the judge ruled in his favor, fled to Nebraska. Everyone let out a sigh of relief when he turned to Mr. Ward. “Your witness, counselor.”

  Mr. Ward strode toward the witness stand, notes in hand. “You stated you knew the body was Harp Munson because you recognized his vest, but the vest is a common garment such as many men wear. How could you know the body you dug up was Harp Munson?”

  Hawkins jumped to his feet. “I intend to introduce that evidence with other witnesses, Your Honor.”

  But Mr. Ward wasn’t to be put off. “Your Honor, Mr. Wexman has testified he dug up the body of Harp Munson. The defense is entitled to know how he knew that before the remains were identified.”

  “I can answer that, Your Honor,” Wexman said with a smirk.

  “Go ahead,” the judge ordered. “We all want to get to the truth.”

  “I recognized the wine stain on his shirt. It was shaped like a horse’s head—not many shirts have that. Harp left me at Bowen’s Mill on his way home. I was going all the way with him, but it was getting late, and I decided I’d turn around. There are witnesses who’ll testify me and Harp were at Bowen’s Mill that day.”

  “How did you know it was a wine stain?”

  Wexman shifted, deep groves etching his forehead. “Harp told me when I asked about it.”

  “What color was his shirt?”

  “Blue.”

>   “What shade of blue?”

  “Just blue.”

  “Sky blue? Dark blue? Pale blue?”

  “Middle blue.” Wexman hurled the words at Mr. Ward.

  “Solid? Checkered? Plaid? Striped?”

  Hawkins rose. “Your Honor, I object. This is just like Mr. Ward. He goes on these fishing expeditions to confuse the witness and make the jurors think he’s unsure of his testimony.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Ward, you’ve made your point about the shirt color.”

  “The shirt was solid color,” Wexman said.

  “When you last saw him alive was he wearing suspenders or belt?”

  “A belt. I couldn’t see if he wore suspenders or not. He wore a vest.”

  “What color vest?”

  Clearly agitated, Wexman ground out his answer through clenched teeth. “The vest was dark gray or black. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be and I can’t always tell the shades of color.”

  “Oh, you could be mistaken about the color? What was the vest made of? Leather? Fabric?”

  “Your Honor, I request this entire line of questioning be stricken. I will use other witnesses to identify the victim.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Ward, I’m beginning to believe this is a fishing expedition. Do you have any other relevant questions?”

  “No other questions, at this time.”

  Juliette tried to read Mr. Ward’s reaction. He might as well have been a poker player. His face revealed no concern over the judge’s admonition. However, concern began to gnaw in earnest at her insides, especially as Mr. Hawkins brought up a string of witnesses to attest to the identity of the man buried in her garden and his movements before and during the day of his death.

  Mr. Ward had no questions for any of them.

  At one o’clock the judge announced, “We’re going to recess until two o’clock.”

  With the strike of the gavel, everyone stood and scattered, presumably to find something to eat. Juliette didn’t know whether her stomach had room for food. She was allowed to dine in the sheriff’s office.

  The ladies’ hired help had already spread the meal spread out. “I’ll leave you folks and take my dinner in the café so y’all can talk freely with Mr. Ward.” Sheriff Greer laid a hand on Thad’s shoulder. “You’d better come with me, son. You’re a witness and shouldn’t be listening to what Mr. Ward has to say.”

  Thad sent Juliette a pleading glance. “Why? I’m on their side.”

  “He’s right, Thad. I know you’re on my side.” Juliette moved to her brother’s side and gave him a hug. He was already taller than she was, but he looked so young and vulnerable.

  When Thad and the sheriff had cleared the room, the rest of them gathered around the table, and Rhyan offered the blessing.

  Chairs scrubbed the wooden floor as they took their seats. “Saul is such a nice man, isn’t he?” Miss Lydee asked no one in particular. “He doesn’t like how these high-falutin’ lawmen come in here from up-state.”

  “They all think they’re smarter than us country folk,” Miss Maybelle added.

  Forks clinked against stoneware as everyone ate in silence for the next several minutes. Juliette managed to nibble on a corn muffin.

  “You had Hawkins rattled about the color of Munson’s clothes,” Rhyan addressed Mr. Ward.

  “It isn’t hard to rattle him.” Mr. Ward chuckled. “The truth is, he knows and I know, it doesn’t matter whether Wexman identifies the body as Munson or not. He saw the remains first, so his testimony regarding the clothes color is invalid.”

  Jake sent Juliette an encouraging smile. “I guess that was why Mr. Hawkins called five witnesses to testify as to what Munson was wearing on his way to Juliette’s house.”

  Mr. Ward nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed and said, “True. Hawkins overkills on irrelevant matters. I could easily have stipulated the remains were those of Munson.”

  “But isn’t that causing him to take up a lot of time?” Juliette ventured. The trial was dragging along in her opinion.

  “It is, and something I was hoping for.” Mr. Ward held his water glass in mid-air. “I’d rather Hawkins take all day so I get a fresh start in the morning.”

  ***

  Jake could feel the tension in Juliette’s arm as he escorted her back into the courtroom. She worried over Thad, and he did too. What a burden for a young boy to carry, giving testimony against his sister. And that skunk, Hawkins, wouldn’t spare him because of his youth.

  He’d spent more of his time in silent prayer than actually listening to the lawyer drone on and on.

  “If it pleases Your Honor,” the skunk began, “I’d like to lay some foundation for the next witness. He’s the brother of the defendant and so will be hostile to questioning. I wouldn’t call him if it were not absolutely necessary to the case, however, he will show the defendant’s motivation.”

  The judge seemed impatient. “Yes, yes, go ahead, Mr. Hawkins.”

  “I call Thad Kendal to the stand.”

  Poor Thad’s hand shook as he took the oath.

  “State your name and relationship to the defendant, Miss Kendal.”

  “You just said my name, sir. Juliette is my sister.”

  “Your name is Thad Kendal—for the record, you understand.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And your age?”

  “I’m fifteen.”

  “But you understand the importance of telling the truth? You have sworn before God to tell this jury the truth.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Hawkins strode to the table in front of the judge’s stand. He took the rifle lying there and handed it to Thad. “Examine this weapon and tell us if you recognize it?”

  “Yes sir, it belonged to my pa. He carved his initials in the handle.” He pointed to the handle.

  “Where was this firearm kept?”

  “Behind a loose board on the back porch. Jul hid it there.”

  Hawkins took the rifle and returned it to the table. “She hid it from your step-father?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why did she hide it from him?”

  “She didn’t want him to find it.”

  Laughter skipped around the room. Hawkins turned red in the face. “Why didn’t she want him to know where it was?” Before Thad had a chance to answer, he added, “Isn’t it a fact she hated your step-father?”

  “Yes, sir. Everyone knew that.”

  “Everyone knew she hated him. I’ll be calling on two more witnesses who will corroborate that statement. Now, didn’t she tell you she kept the rifle at the ready because she intended to kill Harp Munson?”

  “No, sir. It wasn’t like that.” Thad grabbed the arms of the chair and slid to the edge.

  “How was it? Isn’t it true when your step-father gave you a thrashing, you ran to your sister, and she assured you he wouldn’t do it again?”

  “Yes, sir, once.”

  “What did she say she would do to your step-father?”

  Thad squirmed and faced the judge. “Do I have to tell that?”

  “Yes, son, you have to answer the question truthfully.”

  Thad’s mouth worked and tears rolled down his cheeks as he sent a heartbreaking glance to Juliette. Jake didn’t know who he felt sorrier for, Thad or Juliette.

  “She said if he hurt us again, she’d kill him.”

  “How?”

  Thad sobbed. “I’m sorry, Jul.” He choked and swiped his face with his shirt sleeve. “She said…she’d…shoot him.”

  “Would you like some water, Master Thad?” Hawkins’ voice dripped compassion. Thad shook his head. “Let’s go on then. When Mr. Gresham was injured on your land and you took him in, he befriended you and your brother, did he not?”

  The question surprised Thad enough to stop his sobs. He eyed Hawkins warily and probably for good reason, Jake thought. What did he have to do with any of this? “Yes.”

  “And your sister befriended him? In fact, is it safe to say Mr. Gresh
am and your sister, Juliette, spoke of marriage?”

  “Mr. Jake wanted to marry Jul.”

  “He offered you and your brother a job back at his ranch if she would marry him?”

  “No, sir. He said he could get us jobs as cowboys, but it wasn’t his ranch.”

  “And you were going to go with him when he recovered from his injuries?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But your sister refused to leave at first.”

  “Yes, sir. She couldn’t go because of Annie.”

  “Your younger sister?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yet she agreed that your younger brother should go with Mr. Gresham. Does it not seem strange that Miss Kendal was reluctant to go, even though she clearly loved Mr. Gresham?”

  “She didn’t want to abandon the house.”

  “Ah, she was afraid to leave the house. In fact, she didn’t want anyone to weed her garden, did she? Did you ever wonder why?”

  Hawkins didn’t give him a chance to answer. “But when Mr. Wexman claimed the property, she decided to leave.”

  “She had to. Mr. Wexman threatened to evict us.”

  Juliette pulled on Jake’s arm. “What’s all that about?” she whispered. Jake wondered the same thing.

  Abruptly, Hawkins smiled and addressed Mr. Ward. “Your witness.”

  “No questions.”

  When the judge dismissed Thad, he fled the stand. Hawkins recalled Wexman to the stand who stated Juliette seemed evasive when he asked about Harp Munson’s whereabouts. He made a big to-do of the fact that she threatened Wexman with legal proceedings and refused to let him inspect the grounds. Their meaning was clear. They made it seem she had something to hide.

  Hawkins proceeded to call on three witnesses who testified that Harp Munson had talked to them about his trouble with Juliette. He left the impression that he feared for his life each time he went home.

  Still, Mr. Ward declined to cross-examine. Jake wanted to shout at him to do something. The prosecutor was building the scaffold on which to hang Juliette, and her defender was standing by and letting it happen.

  Then, he called the coroner, a short-legged, balding man with a girth that reminded one of a bowling pin. The man gave his name as Dr. Lawson Jennings and stated he served as coroner for Wilcox County and surrounding counties.