A Love to Cherish (27 page)

“I want to know why he confessed. If he isn’t guilty he shouldn’t be sent to prison or”—she gulped convulsively—“hung for murder. Casey said he’ll probably be sentenced soon.”

“I’m advising you to forget Hopkins, Belle.”

Naomi’s stern warning fell on deaf ears. Belle was already planning her visit to Harry Hopkins.

“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about,” Naomi added. “I took on a new girl. I did so with misgivings because she wasn’t the type I usually hire. But the poor thing seemed so desperate I couldn’t say no. Her name is Greta. She claimed to be experienced but I finally got her to admit she’d had only one previous sexual encounter. With a man she fancied herself in love with. She left her father’s home with the man. Unfortunately the bounder abandoned her after he stole her virginity and her money.

“Last night was her first working night. A customer named Hank Jones took a liking to her and took her upstairs. I thought she could handle him but I was mistaken. At the last minute she got cold feet and refused to service him. Jones beat her quite severely. Doc Peabody patched her up and she’ll be all right, but I don’t have the heart to toss her out on the streets. She’s no whore and never will be.

“The girl refuses to return home. Her father is a preacher and she doesn’t want to shame him more than she already has. She’s young, Belle, but smart. I thought it was about time Tommy had a governess.”

“That poor girl,” Belle sympathized.

“I reported Jones to the sheriff and hopefully the man will spend a night or two in jail.”

“You’re a good woman, Naomi, always taking in
strays. I’d fight anyone who says you aren’t. Send Greta around. If she’s as smart as you say, I’m sure Tommy will benefit from her instruction. And I’d be glad for the company. This is a household of males.”

“Then it’s settled,” Naomi said, rising. “And honey, now that you live up here with the rich, I don’t think it’s wise for me to visit you again. I don’t want our friendship to sully your reputation.”

Belle gave her a disgruntled look. “I had no reputation to begin with. You’re the only one who stuck by me when everyone else had me guilty of murder. I’ll see you anytime I damn well please. If you won’t come here, I’ll come to you.”

Naomi shook her head, inordinately pleased but still skeptical. “You’re a stubborn woman, Belle. I certainly can’t stop you from coming to my house. You’re welcome anytime. But shouldn’t you ask your husband first if he wants you to visit a house of ill-repute?”

“I doubt Casey will stick around long enough to care,” Belle said softly.

“He might surprise you, honey. Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll send Greta around later. If it doesn’t work out I’ll try to think of something else for the girl.”

Naomi left in a tantalizing swirl of frothy white petticoats and scarlet satin skirts.

Later that afternoon Belle put Tommy down for his nap and prepared to go out. Wan Yo offered to accompany her but Belle declined. She preferred that he stay with Tommy. If Harry Hopkins didn’t kill McAllister, then the person who did was still roaming the city and could present a danger to those she loved. Belle knew she wasn’t thinking
straight but somewhere in the tangled mass of her wild imaginings was a reasonable explanation. She just hadn’t figured it out yet. If Casey wouldn’t help it was up to her to make sure an innocent man wasn’t hung for a murder he didn’t commit.

Sheriff Rogan refused to allow Belle access to the prisoner when she arrived at the jailhouse. “Haven’t you had enough of this place, Mrs. Walker? Does your husband know you’re here?”

Belle refused to leave. When the sheriff could quote no law forbidding a visit with the prisoner, he grudgingly allowed Belle ten minutes. He escorted Belle to the cell and waited nearby while Belle spoke in low tones to Harry Hopkins.

“What are you doing here?” Hopkins asked when he saw Belle standing on the other side of the bars.

Belle thought the poor man looked more ill than he had the day before. “I’m here to satisfy my curiosity,” Belle said in a hushed voice. “I’m going to ask you a question, Mr. Hopkins, and I want a truthful answer. Why did you lie? Why did you confess to killing Mr. McAllister when you didn’t do it?”

Hopkins stared at Belle in consternation. “You’re loco, lady. Of course I killed old T.J. For your own sake you’ve got to believe that.”

“But you didn’t do it, Mr. Hopkins. Did my husband talk you into confessing? Did he threaten you?”

“That young man was mighty persistent but he didn’t threaten me. Look here, little lady, I’m dying. I knew you couldn’t have killed the bastard so I thought I’d do one good deed before meeting my maker.”

“But it’s not fair!”

“Life is rarely fair. But ya gotta make the best of it. You got your whole life ahead of ya. McAllister hurt you just like he hurt me and Jones. I didn’t kill him but I’m not sorry he’s dead. That husband of yours is one determined man. If my confession served to bring you and your son and husband happiness, then I will die a contented man. Who’s to say I wouldn’t have killed McAllister if I had gotten to him first?”

“Do you have any idea who killed my father-in-law?”

“Old T.J. must have had numerous enemies. I haven’t been in town long enough to name them.”

“Why were you watching his house?”

“I admit I walked past the mansion a few times, trying to get up the nerve to confront the bastard, pardon my language, ma’am.”

“I’m going to try to convince my husband to find the real killer,” Belle promised. “He’s got to listen to me.”

“Good luck, ma’am. I ain’t afraid to die, if that’s to be my fate. I ain’t got long to live anyways. Thank you for caring, little gel. If I had a daughter I’d want her to be just like you.”

“Time is up, Mrs. Walker.”

Belle started violently, surprised to find the sheriff standing behind her. Had it been ten minutes already? “Good-bye, Mr. Hopkins. Try to keep your spirits up.”

“What’s your connection with that man?” Rogan asked curiously.

“No connection. I just wanted to hear from his lips why he killed my father-in-law.”

“Did he tell you? I’d be interested in finding that out myself.”

“We hadn’t gotten around to that yet. Good-day, Sheriff.” She left Rogan staring after her with his mouth hanging open and his curiosity unappeased.

When Belle arrived home, she found Greta waiting for her in the parlor. Tommy had woken and he and Greta were conversing quietly.

“I see you’ve met my son,” Belle said, smiling at Greta’s bowed head. “I’m Belle Mc … Walker. Naomi told me all about you.”

Greta looked up at Belle and flushed. “And you still want me to be your son’s governess?”

Belle got her first good look at Greta’s face and her hand flew to her mouth. The girl had been severely battered. Her face was bruised and swollen until its original contours were all but obscured by purple and black blotches. Her eyes had been blackened and her bottom lip was swollen to twice its size. “Oh you poor thing!”

“Miss Greta fell, Mama,” Tommy said. “Isn’t it awful? But the doctor told her she’d be all well soon. Naomi sent her to be my governess.”

“If you’ll have me, Mrs. Walker, after …” Greta’s voice cracked with nervousness. “I’ll understand if you don’t think I’m appropriate for your son’s governess.”

Noting Tommy’s rapt attention, Belle said, “I’ll bet cook has cookies and milk for you in the kitchen, son. Go get your snack while I speak with Miss Greta.”

Tommy ran off, and Belle took Greta’s hands and led her to the sofa. “Sit down and tell me about yourself. Noami told me a little but if you’re going to be my son’s governess I’ll need to know more.”

Greta cleared her throat and looked Belle in the eye. “Despite what you know about me I’m not a whore.”

“What is this all about?” Casey strode into the parlor. He had heard Greta’s words and his curiosity was aroused.

Belle jumped to her feet. “This is between me and Greta.”

Casey studied Greta with slow perusal, wincing at the sight of her battered features. “If this is a household decision then I damn well better be included. Especially in view of what I heard when I entered the room.”

Just then Tommy bounded back into the room and grasped Casey’s hand. “Casey, have you met my new governess?”

Belle sent Casey a bright smile. Casey frowned furiously. Poor Greta wished for the floor to open up and swallow her.

B
elle wished she’d had more time to talk to Greta before Casey came home, but there was no help for it now but to introduce her. “Casey, this is Greta. Naomi recommended her for Tommy’s governess.”

Casey was clearly startled. Since when was the madam an expert on governesses? He pitied the severely beaten girl, but she’d need more qualifications than that before he’d agree to bring her into the household. Her pale blond hair was piled atop her small head and she was dressed in a demure, peach-colored gown with a high, round collar. She was small and neatly fashioned. Her figure was pleasing but that was all he could tell about her appearance. Her face was too hideously swollen and discolored to tell if she was even remotely pretty.

“This is my husband, Casey Walker,” Belle continued as she introduced Greta to Casey.

Greta held out a small, white hand to Casey. Casey shook it without compunction. “Are you qualified to work as a governess, Miss … ?” Suddenly he realized he hadn’t been given a last name.

“Collins. Greta Collins.” Her voice quavered nervously. If the Walkers didn’t hire her she had no place else to go. “My parents insisted I be given an education. I attended a finishing school and am qualified to teach young children the basics of education.”

“My wife says Naomi recommended you.” He hesitated but felt compelled to ask, “Have you known Naomi long?”

Belle cleared her throat, forestalling Greta’s answer. Tommy seemed to be hanging onto every word. “Tommy, find Wan Yo and tell him to take you to the park. There is plenty of time for a romp before dinner.”

Once Tommy was gone Casey turned his gaze back to Greta, waiting for her answer.

“I met Naomi when she took me in a few days ago.”

Casey’s next questions were more pointed. “Are you one of Naomi’s stable of girls? Did one of your … er … customers beat you?”

Greta turned a dull red beneath the bruises.

“Casey! Don’t badger Greta,” Belle cautioned.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Walker, your husband has a right to know. I worked for Naomi one night but couldn’t go through with it. The man who paid for my services beat me when I refused to accommodate him. Naomi brought me here. She said I didn’t belong in her house.”

Casey’s features softened but he still wasn’t satisfied. Tommy was a young, impressionable child. A governess could influence his life in countless ways and should be above reproach. “What caused you to seek employment with Naomi? Why did you leave your parents’ home?”

Belle hated the way Casey was probing into Greta’s past. Just as she had been condemned for living with Naomi, Casey was judging Greta unfairly. “Casey, isn’t it enough that Naomi recommended Greta?”

“I’m afraid it isn’t, Belle. Tommy’s welfare is at stake. We don’t want him placed in the care of someone inappropriate.”

Greta rose to leave. “Perhaps I should go. It was wrong of me to …”

“No! Stay,” Belle said, glaring at Casey. “Naomi’s word is good enough for me.”

“Allow me to be the judge of what’s good for my family,” Casey said tightly. He turned back to Greta. “Would you care to answer my question?”

Greta stared at her hands. “I ran away with a man I thought I loved. My parents didn’t approve of him. But since I was of age I listened to my heart instead of their good judgment. I withdrew my small inheritance from the bank and left my family home with the man I thought would be my husband. He took my money and my virginity and left me penniless in San Francisco.”

“So you sought work in a brothel. You could have gone home,” Casey contended.

“You don’t know my father. He’s a preacher and very strict. He would have not have taken me back into his home. I had no self-esteem left. I thought working in a bordello was all that I deserved.” She lifted her gaze to Casey. Her eyes were blue and spoke eloquently of her utter defeat. “Perhaps I was right after all. I have fallen from grace and should accept my fate. If Naomi won’t take me back I’m sure I will find a place in another bordello.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Belle said, taking
Greta’s hands in hers. “You are young and were taken advantage of, and no blame can be attached to that. You were wrong to seek employment in a bordello but you’ve paid for your mistake. Men can be pigs. You didn’t deserve the beating you received. There is an empty room next to Tommy’s, I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there. Wan Yo can retrieve your belongings from Naomi’s later.”

“There you are. Are you discussing something important or can I join in?”

Mark had returned from the winery, eager to discuss his day. He had found the workings fascinating and wanted to ask Casey if he could return to the winery on a daily basis to learn all aspects of the business. He spied Greta and came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

Greta turned slowly, giving Mark the full benefit of her ravaged features. Mark gasped, paling beneath his tan. “My God! Tell me who did that to you, miss, and I’ll make him sorry he still walks the face of the earth.”

“I feel the same way, brother,” Casey said. “This is Greta Collins, Tommy’s new governess. Miss Collins, this is my brother, Mark Walker.”

After introductions were made, Belle showed Greta to her room. Casey walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a brandy. “Join me, Mark,” Casey invited.

“What happened to that poor woman?” Mark asked, accepting a dram of brandy from Casey.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I don’t know the whole story but I’ll tell you what I do know.” He then related everything Greta
had told him. “I was reluctant to hire the woman but you know Belle.”

“I wonder what Greta looks like beneath those bruises,” Mark mused.