Undercover Bride (27 page)

“So you traveled here to meet with the defendant,” Fassbender said. “Is that correct?”

She stole a glance at Garrett and was momentarily silenced by his stony-eyed expression.

“Is that correct, Miss Cartwright?” Fassbender repeated, this time louder.

She lowered her lashes. “Yes.”

“For what purpose did you agree to become his fiancée?” he asked.

She looked up with great effort. “To find the money stolen from the Whistle-Stop train robbery.”

Cheeks blazing, she kept her focus on the prosecutor. The lies, the betrayal—they were all part of her job. So why did she feel so ashamed? It was like watching her father hang all over again. Only this time it felt like she was the one who had done wrong.

“Are you telling this court that you never intended to marry the defendant?”

“That’s correct.” She spoke in a suffocated whisper.

“I ask again, Miss Cartwright, if you ever intended to marry Mr. Thomas. Please speak up so the jury can hear your answer.”

She swallowed the lump in her voice. “That’s correct. I… never intended to go through with the wedding.”

Aunt Hetty gave an audible gasp, and a murmur rose from the spectators like a swarm of bees. The judge called for order.

Mr. Fassbender continued. “What led you to believe that Mr. Thomas had the money that was stolen from the train?”

The jurors hung on to her every word as she walked the court through Pinkerton’s investigation and subsequent findings.

Determined to mine her testimony for all it was worth, Fassbender continued with the questions. He was good at what he did. Like a Shakespearean actor, he knew when to pause for effect and when to raise or lower his voice.

Finally, the prosecutor turned his attention to the day she found the money in the children’s tree house. He wasn’t satisfied until every last detail of that awful day had been hammered out of her. By the time she was excused, she barely had enough strength left to stumble back to her seat.

T
he next witness to be called for the Territory was Linc. The boy looked scared to death as he took the witness stand. He didn’t even know his right hand from his left, and the bailiff had to help him place the correct one on the Bible.

“State your name for the record.”

“Linc Jones.”

Not only did the boy look scared, he looked vulnerable and seemed to shrink beneath the prosecutor’s steady gaze. Feeling a surge of protectiveness toward him, Maggie clenched her hands together and pressed her lips tight.

“Would you please tell the court how you happened to come across a hundred-dollar bill?”

“Yes, sir.” He stared down at his hands. “I was selling my newspapers in the barbershop like I do every day. I stepped outside and found the money right there in front of the door.”

Linc’s story was consistent with what Toby and Elise had told her.

“And do you know how the money ended up in front of the barbershop?”

Linc glanced at Garrett and then at Katherine’s brother sitting in the opposite side of the courtroom. “I—I do,” he stammered.

Maggie sat forward and noticed Cotton do likewise. She frowned. Why would he show so much interest in Linc’s testimony? It made no sense unless—

She coughed in an effort to capture Linc’s attention, and when that failed to work she jumped to her feet. This time he looked straight at her. She rubbed her nose before taking her seat again. The boy’s nose didn’t turn blue, but his face blazed red enough to hide his freckles.

Rikker leaned sideways. “What was that about?” he muttered beneath his breath.

“I’ll tell you later,” she whispered.

The prosecutor repeated his question. “Would you kindly tell the court how the money happened to appear in front of the barbershop?”

Linc glanced at Maggie. “I—I don’t know.”

“What!?”

The prosecutor’s outburst made Linc jump, and murmured voices filled the courtroom.

“Order!” the judge bellowed.

Fassbender followed his outburst with an apology to the judge. He straightened his bow tie, cleared his throat, and stepped up to the witness stand. “You are under oath to tell the truth,” he said in a quieter, though no less emphatic, voice.

Linc glanced at Maggie, and again she rubbed her nose. “I am telling the truth, sir. I found the money and don’t know who dropped it. Honest.”

During the afternoon break, Maggie stepped outside to get some air. Rikker followed her from the courtroom but had since disappeared.

It was hot and the air still, but the smell of heated soil was a welcome change from the airless, smoke-filled courtroom.

Anxious to talk to Linc, she caught him by the arm as he emerged from the building.

“We need to talk,” she said, pulling him aside.

Linc’s face paled. “I didn’t tell no lie, honest.”

“No, but you were thinking about it.”

Linc worried her. In the past, he’d had to steal and lie to survive. Thanks to Garrett’s generosity, Linc and his grandmother now had plenty of food and clothing. But behavior begun from necessity could easily escalate into a lifetime habit of illegal activities.

“How much did Cotton pay you to lie?” It was a guess on her part, but the look on Linc’s face told her she was right.

“He didn’t pay me nothing.”

“But he was going to.” When he didn’t deny it, she continued. “What did he want you to say?”

“Nothing. He didn’t want me to say nothing.” And with that, Linc took off running.

She watched him go with a sense of sadness. As soon as the trial was over she would leave town. So there really was nothing more she could do for Linc. Couldn’t do much for Elise and Toby, either.

She turned with a sigh and was just about to reenter the courthouse when she was accosted by Aunt Hetty.

“You claim to be a Pinkerton detective.” The old woman stabbed the ground with her cane and her eyes glittered. “Prove it.”

Maggie pulled her tin shield out of her waistband and held it up.

Aunt Hetty discounted her badge with a shake of her head. “That tells me nothing.”

“Then what will?” Maggie asked.

“Proving my nephew innocent!”

Sighing, Maggie repinned the shield to her waistband. “The evidence is stacked against him. The money—”

“Anyone could have put it there. It’s not like the barn was under lock and key.”

“But that would make no sense. Why would anyone hide the money in the tree house and forget about it?”

Aunt Hetty sniffed. “Why would Garrett? He would never do anything to bring harm to his children. And that includes exposing them to stolen money.”

She couldn’t blame Aunt Hetty for not wanting to believe Garrett guilty. She was having a hard time believing it herself. And what she said about the children was right on target. It made no sense that he would hide the stolen cache in the playhouse. He had to have known that the satchel would be irresistible to a curious mind like Toby’s.

“I guess we just have to hope the truth comes out in the trial,” she said vaguely, her thoughts still on the playhouse.

“You know as well as I that the jury has already made up their minds, and it has nothing to do with truth.”

“Aunt Hetty—”

“Do you know what Garrett told me after he was released from that awful prison? He said the one good thing that came out of his stay at Andersonville was that it kept him off the battlefield. That’s how much he hated the thought of killing. Do you honestly think him capable of killing that guard in cold blood?”

Maggie shook her head. “No, I don’t think that—”

“How much do you charge?”

“What?”

“I want to hire you to prove Garrett’s innocence. How much do you charge?”

“I can’t take your money.”

Aunt Hetty’s eyes sharpened. “Can’t or won’t?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Maggie said.

Aunt Hetty studied her. “Are you absolutely one hundred percent certain of Garrett’s guilt?” She waited for an answer, and when none came, nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Without another word, she ambled away.

Garrett’s defense began the following day. A tall, thin man with a sweeping mustache, attorney Robert King had done a great job in rounding up people willing to testify on Garrett’s character.

Customers testified that he was a fair and reasonable businessman.

Panhandle took the stand without removing his ever-present pompadour cap. With every question put to him by the defense, he blinked like someone who just woke from a long slumber or stepped out of a cave.

“Yessir,” he said. “Mr. Thomas is a good employer and pays my salary on time. And nope, he never overworked me. No, sir, never did.”

Next to take the stand was Miss Nancy Riden, the children’s teacher. She testified that Garrett was a caring parent who always saw that his children arrived for class on time and turned in their assignments.

A long line of witnesses followed, all testifying to Garrett’s good character.

Just before noon, Aunt Hetty was called to the stand. She walked up the aisle with her cane and took her place in front of the court. “My nephew is innocent of all charges lodged against him,” she announced.

The judge’s scowl deepened. “You can’t say anything until you’ve been sworn in.”

“Then hurry up and do it,” she ordered. “It’s nearly time for my medicine.”

The clerk hurried to her side with the Bible. “Raise your right hand…”

After Aunt Hetty had been sworn in, she immediately restated her earlier contention.

“You’re here to answer questions, not give your personal opinion,” the judge said.

“That’s not my personal opinion,” Aunt Hetty argued. “That’s the gospel truth.”

Aunt Hetty spent more time arguing with the judge than she spent answering questions. Apparently thinking she was doing his client more harm than good, Garrett’s attorney quickly dismissed her.

That night, Maggie sat with Rikker in the hotel dining room. It was their custom to go over every bit of testimony at the end of each day.

“I give up,” he said in answer to her question. “Why would Cotton pay Linc to lie on the witness stand?”

Maggie set her fork down and reached for the napkin on her lap. Her run-in with Aunt Hetty had bothered her more than she cared to admit, and she’d thought about it ever since. Was she a hundred percent certain of Garrett’s guilt? Not by a long shot.

“You’re not helping,” she said.

“And you’re letting your feelings color your judgment.”

She dabbed her mouth. “If that’s true, I’m only doing what you taught me to do.”

“Me?”

“Do you remember when we were shadowing Jason Wells?” Wells was suspected of being the notorious Black Hooded bank robber. “Everything indicated he was about to rob the St. Louis Bank.”

“I remember. We had all our men in place to nab him when he did, but you were certain it was a trick.”

She nodded. Finding that map in his hotel room had seemed a tad too convenient. “When I came to you with my concerns, do you remember what you said?” He shrugged, and she continued. “You said, ‘
follow your instincts
.’”

“Which was probably the last time you took my advice,” he said.

That wasn’t true, but she let the comment pass. “Because of your good counsel, we caught him trying to rob a bank in the next town.”