After Sundown (34 page)

“Weatherby!” Lucas looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Knew something was wrong, sir, when you didn’t write back after we let you know about Thompson and Reynolds,” the young man said. “Sent a telegraph to St. Charles and they told us you’d disappeared. After we rounded up the last of the Risco gang, the boys picked me to go see if you needed any help—”

“I organized an expedition and set out as soon as I could.” Mrs. McKenna’s voice had shifted, become cool. “Lucas, would you mind telling me—”

“And who the hell are the rest of you?” Lucas challenged the other lawmen. “If you’re from St. Charles, you’re out of your jurisdiction—”

“Private detectives, Marshal,” one of the men holding Annie explained. “Mrs. McKenna here hired us to find out what had happened to you and your prisoner.”

Annie inhaled sharply as the two men holding her by the arms pulled her toward the street, their grips bruising.

“Hold on,” Lucas snarled, stalking over to block their path.

“Lucas, don’t, please, it’s all right.” With her hands cuffed behind her, Annie couldn’t even wipe away her tears. She knew he was trying to buy time until he could figure out what to do, but it was too late. “I’ll go with them, willingly.”

One of the other men took a sheaf of folded papers from inside his coat and handed it to Lucas. “We’ve been legally empowered to enforce the warrant for this woman’s arrest, Marshal.”

“Lucas.” James’s wife walked toward him, her tone icy, her eyes full of suspicion. “What is going on? Why was this little tramp walking around free? And why do you care what happens to...” When he turned to look at her, whatever she saw in his face made her gasp and cover her mouth with one gloved hand. “Oh, dear God.”

“Olivia, there’s a lot you don’t understand—”

“It can’t be.” She stared at him in horror, shaking her head. “How
could
you? You let this whore
seduce
you, didn’t you? You took her to bed! The tramp who murdered your brother—”

“She’s not a whore. And it wasn’t murder,” he told her curtly. “It was an accident—”

“An
accident
?” Mrs. McKenna cried. “What are you
saying
? All this time we were all so worried about you, and
this
is what you’ve been doing”—she pointed at Annie—“sleeping with your brother’s
whore
? Letting her trick you into taking leave of your senses?”

Annie shut her eyes, feeling sick, wishing she could sink into the wooden boardwalk beneath her feet.

“Olivia,” Lucas said, biting off the word as if he had lost the last of his patience. “I have to explain—”

“You don’t have to explain a thing! I understand perfectly! She seduced you just like she seduced James. She lured you into her bed with her harlot’s tricks and played you for a fool!” She stepped away from him as if she couldn’t even stand to breathe the same air. “Men are all such
swine
! It would be a miracle if just
once
a man could do his thinking with his brain instead of his... his...” She whirled on Annie. “You devious, low-born little gutter trash! You’ve turned
everyone
against me!”

“No,” Annie sobbed. “No, that’s not—”

“Don’t you dare even
speak
to me!” Mrs. McKenna gestured for her hired men to take Annie to the wagon. “Your lies and your tricks won’t save you this time. You’re going back to St. Charles. And you’re going to
pay
for what you’ve done.”

T
he courtroom was so packed, Lucas found it hard to breathe. He’d attended dozens of trials before—but always as an arresting officer giving testimony.

Never as a loved one of the accused.

The trip to Missouri had taken twelve days, first on horseback as the mule train slowly made its way down the snowy mountain, then by stagecoach to Denver, then by train to St. Charles. He had stayed close every step of the way, refusing to leave Annie at the mercy of Olivia’s hired muscle.

He had almost come to blows with one arrogant son of a bitch, but he had insisted on making sure she was well treated and unhurt. His deputy, Shane Weatherby, had come along to offer whatever help he could, and between the two of them, they’d managed to keep watch over her.

When he had been allowed to speak with her in the St. Charles jail, Annie had pleaded with him not to try anything rash to rescue her. Never had he seen her so brave, ready to stand up for herself and clear her name, assuring him that his presence alone would give her the strength she needed to face whatever might come.

Lucas felt his throat tighten painfully. He intended to do more than lend her his strength.

To save Annie, he would move heaven and earth.

And now that his worst nightmares about the trial were coming true, that might just be necessary.

Lucas glanced behind him at the people filling every seat and standing in the aisles, some lounging against the mahogany paneling and marble pillars at the back: society ladies, business associates of James’s, constables, reporters, newspaper artists busily sketching on white pads of paper. All of them whispered and gossiped as they waited for the afternoon recess to end and testimony to resume.

For two days now, the population of St. Charles had hung on every word uttered by every witness as the prosecutor presented his case in lurid detail. The man had made it clear in his opening statement that he considered this crime so despicable, and Annie’s guilt so clear beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the only possible justice lay in the most severe punishment, one that the state of Missouri hadn’t meted out to a woman in half a century: hanging.

Lucas clenched his jaw, an icy shard of fear lodged in his chest. He turned to stare at the American flag behind the judge’s bench.

Justice
. For most of his life, he’d been pursuing justice, chasing it like it was something he could capture and hold on to. He had always believed there was a firm, unmistakable line between the saints of this world, and the sinners.

But he’d been wrong. His time in Eminence had taught him that. Changed his mind... and his heart. It wasn’t possible to put solid, unbreakable boundaries around people.

Because they had a way of breaking right through them.

Lucas felt a hand on his arm and looked down into Rebecca Greer’s face. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear.

He covered her hand with his.

The bailiff entered the court from behind the judge’s bench. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Knapp.”

Lucas stood with everyone else. The gossiping onlookers scurried to reclaim their places. Olivia’s friends and supporters filled the entire left side of the room and had overflowed onto the right, since supporters for the accused were sparse.

In fact, they numbered four: the defense attorney appointed by the presiding judge, Lucas, Rebecca, and Daniel. Annie’s two closest friends had followed them to St. Charles as soon as they could.

This afternoon’s witness was brought in: the defendant.

Lucas tensed as Annie was escorted into the court wearing handcuffs. She looked pale, and her gown of blue gingham seemed too big for her slender frame. He had to fight the urge to walk over, scoop her into his arms, and carry her out of here, take her someplace safe. Somewhere he could protect her.

After the shackles were removed, two constables led her toward the witness box. She walked with calm dignity, in spite of the looks everyone in the room gave her—looks full of distaste, reproach, condemnation.

She didn’t lower her gaze, didn’t turn her face away from these people who had hated her since she was a child, who had always treated her as an object of scorn.

Lucas swallowed hard past a lump in his throat. For the first time in her life, she faced them without flinching. As if she finally realized that, in every way that mattered, she was as good as any one of them. As worthy of respect and fairness.

And justice.

A hush fell over the room as everyone reclaimed their seats—including the twelve men in the jury box on the right side of the courtroom, some of them stonefaced and impassive, others looking at Annie exactly as Lucas had feared they would: with scathing expressions.

None of them looked inclined to be merciful.

As Lucas sat down, he saw his sisters file in from the back of the courtroom to take their places near Olivia and the prosecutor. Lucas had tried talking to Callie and Eden and Faith as soon as he arrived in town, but he’d been turned away. Olivia had gotten to them first, and they refused to see him. He wasn’t welcome at James’s house, wasn’t allowed to see his nephew and niece, had been staying at a hotel with Daniel and Rebecca.

Every now and then one of his sisters would glance his way with a look of hurt and betrayal.

It felt like a fist in the gut every time.

Faith, the youngest, sat next to her longtime beau, the scion of a prominent banking family who had come all the way from St. Louis to be by her side. Callie was clearly trying to fulfill her duty as the oldest by being strong for all of them, holding her sisters’ hands, trying to hold her own emotions in check.

And Eden... Eden, who had been his favorite when they were all young, who had always looked at him as if he could lasso the moon and stars and pull them down just for her, now refused to look at him at all.

It tore him up inside. And the worst part was that he knew what they were thinking: that they didn’t matter to him at all. That they had depended on him and he had failed them. Again.

There was so much he wanted to tell them. That things weren’t always as simple as they seemed at first glance. That he’d left here months ago determined to find a cold-blooded murderer and see her punished—and instead had found a woman who was nothing like what any of them expected, who was innocent of the charges against her.

A lady who had, day by day, earned his respect and his admiration... and claimed his heart.

The judge pounded his gavel to quiet the crowd, and Annie was sworn in and seated in the witness box.

Lucas kept his gaze on hers, seeing the courage in her eyes and trying to reflect it back, seeing the first spark of fear and trying to will it away. Legally, she didn’t have to testify—and her defense attorney had advised against it—but Annie had insisted. If she didn’t testify, she’d said, it would only convince everyone that she was guilty.

The prosecutor rose from his table. A tough, experienced attorney by the name of Drayton, he was an old friend and business associate of James—and it was obvious that he had taken a special interest in this case, that he personally wanted Annie punished.

Almost as badly as Lucas himself once had.

Drayton walked toward the witness box as he began his questioning.

“Miss Sutton, we have heard a great deal of testimony in the past days about your actions on the day in question. I wonder if you could clarify a few points for me?”

Lucas felt a muscle flex in his jaw. For two days, Drayton had called one witness after another to tell of Annie’s relationship with James—from hotel and railroad employees who had seen them together on various occasions, to friends and colleagues who had known about her, all of them recounting how well James had treated her.

Of course, the prosecutor had made it all sound like Annie’s doing, portraying her as a greedy, conniving tramp—neglecting to mention the fact that James had sought her out, that James had been cheating on his wife.

Then the prosecutor had retraced her every step on that fateful day, calling to the stand the family servants, who’d told how they overheard her argument with James, then the gunshot. Next had come the shopkeeper who had sold her the black dress she wore when she fled town, and later discovered her bloodstained clothes in an alley. The jury had even heard from the man at the stagecoach depot who had sold her a ticket west.

“My esteemed colleague Mr. Tanner informed us in his opening statement that this is all just a terrible misunderstanding,” Drayton said now. “But if the shooting were really an ‘accident’ as you claim, you could have turned yourself in at any time and explained to the authorities. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”

“There you are correct, Miss Sutton. We have nothing but your word to verify your version of events. Nothing... but... your... word. There are only two people who might tell us the truth about what happened that evening—and one was shot in the chest at close range with a .38 caliber revolver—”

“Your Honor, I object,” the defense attorney called out.

“Mr. Drayton,” the judge said to the prosecutor, “I sustain Mr. Tanner’s objection. The coroner has already testified as to the nature of the wounds that caused Mr. McKenna’s death. There is no need to keep restating the testimony of your own witness.”

“Your Honor, I merely find it significant that the gentleman was shot through the
heart
,” Drayton said. “And since there were only two people in the room at the time, either his mistress committed the crime, or he killed himself.” He settled a steady gaze on Annie. “Is that your testimony, Miss Sutton, that Mr. McKenna committed suicide?”

“No—”

“You went there that evening to kill him, didn’t you?”

“No!”

“You were angry because he had decided to end your relationship. You wanted revenge. You wanted money. So you went to Mr. McKenna’s
home
where he lived with his
wife
and
children
and you shot him through the heart—”

“No!”

“Objection!”

The crowd buzzed with comments and exclamations. Lucas felt the anguish in Annie’s eyes, so intensely that he had to grip the arms of his chair to keep himself from going to her.

“There will be order in this courtroom.” The judge pounded his gavel on the bench. “Mr. Drayton,” he said in a warning tone, “again, I sustain Mr. Tanner’s objection.”

“I will move on, Your Honor.” Drayton turned away from Annie, folding his hands behind his back as he strolled toward the jury box. “Miss Sutton, your attorney, Mr. Tanner, has made a special point of stating that we do not have the murder weapon in our possession. And that is true. The gun was never found. Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know.”

Lucas hoped that anyone who didn’t know her as well as he did wouldn’t notice the slight waver in her voice.

Annie’s attorney had instructed her to answer Drayton’s questions as simply and succinctly as possible, offering no more detail or information than necessary. She would have the chance to explain her side of the story more fully when her attorney questioned her.

“You don’t know?” Drayton gave the jury a dry look.

“I dropped it. It fell—”

“And no one ever found it? Come, come, surely you do not have so low an opinion of our local officers”—he gestured toward the constables sitting in the courtroom—“as to believe that they would fail to see a
gun
lying in plain sight at a
murder
scene?”

Every time Drayton said the word
murder
he made sure to give it special emphasis.

“I-I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Normally if a murder weapon isn’t found, it’s because someone has disposed of it,” Drayton pointed out. “Such as the person who used it to commit the crime. The truth, Miss Sutton, is that you took that gun with you and threw it away as you fled, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“You disposed of that .38-caliber revolver the same way you disposed of your bloodstained clothes, didn’t you?”

“No!”

“You shot James McKenna and took fifteen thousand dollars from his safe and left town. Are those the facts or are they not?”

“I... I—”

“
Fifteen thousand
dollars,” Drayton repeated. “That’s five thousand for each year you spent with him. Rather a nice salary for a woman who earned her living on her back—”

“Objection!” Tanner shouted, rising from his chair.

Lucas felt sick to his stomach. Only after the prosecution rested would Tanner have a chance to present his case for the defense. Annie would be able to tell the truth. Lucas would testify about how she had taken care of him when he’d been shot, when she could have left him to die. Rebecca would vouch for her good character, her tender heart. Daniel would tell everyone about the miscarriage Annie had suffered, and how she had mourned for her lost little one.

At Lucas’s request, the headmaster from the orphanage that had received Annie’s donation had even traveled from Colorado to make a plea for leniency.

Lucas felt his heart beating hard against his ribs as he looked at her, so vulnerable and alone. He could clearly see her trembling now—and knew that everyone else in the room would interpret it completely the wrong way.