A Love to Cherish (17 page)

McAllister rose slowly. He considered Belle mad enough to shoot and wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, she’d never get out of the house with the boy. And even if by some remote chance she did, she wouldn’t get to the city limits.

Jubilant, Belle followed McAllister out the door. She didn’t know what she would have done had McAllister refused to obey. She was desperate, but she could never kill another human being, that’s why she had emptied the chambers of the gun beforehand. No matter how despicable T.J. was, he was still Tom’s father and Tommy’s grandfather.

“You’re making a big mistake, Belle,” McAllister said, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Belle. “You can’t pull that trigger and you know it.”

“I can and I will,” Belle said with false bravado. “It would be so easy to kill you. Men like you are a menace to society.” Belle couldn’t believe she was saying such terrible things. It was so unlike her to make empty threats, but McAllister had driven her past reason. “Take me to Tommy and you won’t get hurt.”

The wild pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of footsteps creeping up behind her as she prodded McAllister toward the staircase. Caught up in a maelstrom of anticipation and yearning—she was so close to Tommy—Belle was completely focused on her son and sorely oblivious to her surroundings.

Suddenly she was turned violently and the gun wrested from her hand. Kellerman did not release his hurtful grasp as he handed the gun to McAllister. McAllister opened the chamber, saw it was empty and snorted in disgust.

“The damn thing isn’t even loaded.”

“You want me to send someone for the sheriff, boss?” Kellerman wanted to know.

Before McAllister could reply, Tommy appeared at the top of the stairs. His eyes lit up when he saw Belle and he flew down the steps before his nursemaid could stop him. He started beating on Kellerman, who had Belle pinned against him.

“Don’t hurt my mama! You’re a bad man. Let my mama go!”

“Tommy.” Belle sobbed out his name and he immediately went to her, his little arms hugging her waist fiercely. Then he turned to McAllister, his eyes blazing furiously. “I hate you, Grandfather!”

“What should I do with her, boss?” Kellerman repeated. “The bitch threatened you. I heard her. She belongs behind bars.”

McAllister looked at the sobbing Tommy and couldn’t get the boy’s words out of his mind. He didn’t want to live the rest of his life with his only grandchild hating him. “No, don’t call the sheriff, she’s harmless. Throw her out.”

“Harmless, hell,” Kellerman mumbled as he unlocked the door and pulled it open. Before he could toss Belle out he had to literally peel Tommy away from his mother.

Tommy screamed uncontrollably as Belle landed in the grass at the bottom of the front steps. McAllister walked to the door and stared dispassionately at Belle. Tommy continued to scream long after he was dragged upstairs by his nurse.

Belle sprawled on the lawn, too stunned to move. She wasn’t hurt badly, just bruised and humiliated, and so damn frustrated she wanted to lie there and die. Once again she had failed. It had been disgustingly foolish to think she could settle things this
way. Look where it had gotten her. Tossed out on her ear and Tommy so upset she could still hear his cries echoing through the night.

Gingerly she picked herself up, found she could stand, albeit not without considerable pain, and limped away. McAllister stood watching her from the open doorway. He waited until Belle was out of sight then tossed the gun into the shrubbery.

Belle was too upset and ashamed to tell anyone about this fiasco tonight. She had planned to return the gun before Naomi missed it, sparing herself the humiliation of an explanation. Her plan had been foiled by McAllister, and she had neither the gun nor the bullets in her possession. Her shoulders slumped in dejection, Belle trudged home wearily.

McAllister returned to his study. Tommy had finally gone to sleep but McAllister had been deeply disturbed by the boy’s tears. He had come to love the boy. Tommy was all he had left in the world, and he wanted to give the child every advantage money could buy. One day, when Tommy was older, he would thank his grandfather, that much McAllister knew, but until then the boy would have to learn to get along without his mother.

“Any instructions for the night, boss?” Kellerman asked, poking his head inside the study.

“Keep alert tonight. I’m sure there won’t be any further trouble, but I can’t afford to take chances. I didn’t realize how determined that woman was.”

“Sure thing, boss. Good night.”

Kellerman locked the front door, checked all the windows in the front of the house, then went to the back of the house, repeating the process. Before he reached the back door, he was distracted by a kitchen maid who had caught his eye some time
ago. She was alone, the kitchen empty but for the flirtatious girl. When she gave Kellerman a provocative smile and twitched her hips at him, the brawny but not-too-bright bodyguard forgot everything but the aching bulge in his trousers. Grasping the girl, he kissed her hard. When she didn’t object he kissed her again with gusto. After a few clumsy caresses he bent the girl over the kitchen table, flipped up her skirts, and thrust himself into her.

For the next two hours he pounded his desire into the willing girl he’d lusted after since spying her in McAllister’s kitchen. Both he and the girl were pleasantly exhausted when they parted. The maid took the back stairs to her quarters, and Kellerman went to his own room. The kitchen door had been forgotten and remained unlocked.

Sometime later a shrouded figure let himself in through the rear entrance. He moved silently through the kitchen and down the hallway. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, for he moved unerringly toward McAllister’s study. He opened the door noiselessly and stepped inside.

He saw McAllister sitting in his chair before the hearth, his head resting on his chest in slumber. Though his steps were nearly soundless on the thick carpet, McAllister must have sensed a presence for he opened his eyes just as the intruder raised a gun to his head.

“You!”

That was the last word McAllister ever spoke. The gunshot reverberated sharp and deadly through the stillness of the night. The assassin didn’t wait to see if he’d killed his prey, there was no need. The blood and gore splattered on the wall behind McAllister was proof enough. Dropping the gun on the floor,
the killer turned and quickly pried open the window, flinging himself through it and onto the ground below. The drop was a short one and he rolled once, gained his feet and sprinted off into the dark night.

Kellerman awakened to the sound of a gunshot exploding in the night. Several minutes passed before his dazed mind realized what it was that he had just heard. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been vigilent enough. He found McAllister’s body slumped over in his chair, and his brains splattered nearby.

“The damn bitch,” he cursed as he headed out the door to summon the sheriff.

Belle slept late and arose feeling battered and bruised. While bathing she found several places on her arms and legs that had been scraped bloody. She supposed she had gotten them when she was thrown bodily from McAllister’s house. There was even a raw place on her face that she wouldn’t be able to hide from Naomi. She sighed despondently and turned her thoughts to Tommy. That one glimpse of him had been worth the small injuries she had suffered. Her heart ached when she recalled how he had clung to her and begged his grandfather not to hurt her.

She couldn’t imagine what had gotten into her last night. Taking the gun from Naomi and brandishing it before McAllister had been stupid and utterly self-defeating. What did she hope to gain? Even if the gun was unloaded it was still considered a weapon. Since she no longer had the gun she’d just have to explain to Naomi what she had done and listen to the lecture that was bound to follow.

Naomi was waiting for Belle in the parlor. The madam took one look at the scratches marring Belle’s face and arms and threw up her hands in defeat. “Where were you last night? Look at you! What did McAllister do to you?”

“It was my fault, Naomi, I shouldn’t have …”

Her words were halted in mid-sentence by a racket at the front door. “Open up, it’s the law!”

“Oh, Lordy,” Naomi said, rolling her eyes. “Whose wife complained about us this time?”

Usually the law didn’t bother her as long as her girls caused no problems and no one was murdered on the premises. But every now and again the wife of one of her customers complained and a deputy came by. It was little more than a formality, one Naomi usually solved with dispatch.

Naomi sighed heavily. “I’ll get rid of them. Stay here, we haven’t finished our discussion.”

She went to the door, opened it and put on her most engaging smile. “Good morning Deputy Clancy, Deputy Roth. What can I do for you? It’s a little early, but I can roust out a couple of my girls if you’d like to …”

“We didn’t come for that. They pushed Naomi aside and strode into the parlor.

“Why are you here? Has some do-gooder complained about us again? Whatever it is, I’m sure there is a good explanation.”

Clancy looked beyond Naomi at Belle. “You’ve done nothing, Naomi. We’re here to place Belle Parker under arrest.”

Naomi gasped and clutched at her throat. Her head swiveled around to look at Belle, who had turned deathly pale. “What has Belle done?”

Clancy walked into the parlor, grasped Belle’s
wrists, and snapped on a pair of handcuffs. “Come along quietly, miss.”

Numbness, disbelief, fear, all those emotions and more rendered Belle utterly speechless. Not so Naomi.

“What has Belle done?” She crossed her arms over her ample breasts and glared at Clancy and Roth. “You’re not taking Belle away unless I know what crime she’s being charged with. Surely it’s not serious enough to warrant you taking her away in handcuffs like some dangerous criminal.”

“Some people consider murder a very serious crime. T.J. McAllister was a prominent man in San Francisco. His murder is going to rock the city.”

Belle’s legs bucked beneath her and she would have fallen if Naomi hadn’t placed a supportive arm around her.

“My father-in-law is dead?” Belle repeated shakily.

“His brains were blown out last night,” Roth pointed out crudely. “With Miss Parker’s gun.”

“No! I didn’t kill him!” Something terrible had happened and Belle didn’t know what to make of it. She was confused, angry, and so frightened she was shaking visibly.

“That’s nonsense,” Naomi scoffed. “Belle doesn’t own a gun, never did. I don’t think she could use one even if she had one.”

Clancy nodded to Roth, who pulled a small revolver from his jacket pocket and displayed it before Belle and Naomi. Naomi’s eyes widened, recognizing it immediately. She sent Belle an oblique look, raising an immediate outcry from Belle.

“No, Naomi, I would never do such a thing!”

“Do you recognize the gun, Miss Parker?” Clancy asked. “According to witnesses it is the same gun you threatened Mr. McAllister with last night before he had you thrown out of his house for trespassing.”

Belle stared at the gun then quickly looked away. “I didn’t kill anyone. My father-in-law took the gun away from me and that’s the last I saw of it. Besides, it wasn’t loaded.”

Clancy gave her an incredulous look. “If what you say is true, how did it come to be used for the murder?”

“Perhaps it’s not the same gun Belle brought with her to McAllister’s house,” Naomi offered.

“That’s for the judge to decide. There are witnesses who saw and heard Miss Parker threaten Mr. McAllister. A conviction is almost certain. Come along, Miss Parker, the lieutenant wants to question you.”

“Naomi, I didn’t do it, I swear!” Belle cried. Until now the seriousness of the charge hadn’t really begun to sink in. But this wasn’t some horrible joke, this was real. These men actually believed she had killed her father-in-law.

Suddenly the thought of Tommy alone in the big house with no one to protect him set her heart to pounding. “Wait!” she cried, balking when the deputies tried to steer her out of the house. “What about Tommy? What will happen to my son now?”

Clancy shrugged. “You’ll have to ask the judge that question at your hearing. Come along quietly, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Try not to worry, honey,” Naomi said, wringing her hands. “The sheriff will recognize his mistake and let you go.”

“Find out what happened to Tommy,” Belle begged as she was dragged from the room and out the door. “Help me, Naomi. Oh, God, help me.”

Belle was thrust into the paddy wagon waiting at the curb. The sound of the door slamming in her face had a ring of finality to it. She stared dazedly out the small barred window, shock numbing her mind and her body. She was being charged with a murder she didn’t commit, and no one but Naomi cared. If only Casey were here, she thought, her mind staggering beneath the weight of that statement. She shouldn’t want Casey so desperately, not after the way he had betrayed her. If not for Casey, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. She and Tommy would still be in Placerville, living in anonymity. But no matter how hard she tried to disavow her feelings for Casey, her need for him was too strong to deny.

But she hated Casey, she told herself. She’d never trust him again. Hate and love. Both emotions were so closely related, it was difficult to tell where one stopped and the other began. They fed off one another. Love did not exist without hate; there was no heaven without hell. No good without evil. Since meeting Casey she had experienced all those emotions. She still hated, still distrusted, still wanted the one man she could love.

Belle was taken to a small cell to await Sheriff Rogan. Her back ached from sitting stiffly on the stool, and her wrists and hands were still numb from the handcuffs, which thankfully had been removed. She was almost relieved when the sheriff appeared. He stood over her in an intimidating
manner, which did nothing to bolster Belle’s confidence.

Rogan wasted no time with preliminaries. “You can save both yourself and me a lot of trouble by confessing, Miss Parker.”

“My name is Mrs. McAllister, and I have a marriage license to prove it,” Belle returned shortly. “I did not kill my father-in-law, so how can I confess to something I didn’t do?”