A Season Beyond a Kiss (26 page)

“Well, suh, she was a-kickin’ the boards o’ the stall next ta hers an’ makin’ such a racket, we was afraid she was gonna knock down de barn. I tell yo’, Mistah Jeffrey, she was madder’n ol’ wet hen. The minute I opened the stall door, she came a-chargin’ out like her tail was on fire. Nearly trampled me in her haste ta be gone.”

“Did you perhaps notice if anyone was in the stall next to hers?”

“Like I said, Mistah Jeffrey, she come a-stampedin’ outa there like a flyin’ demon. After I got holdt o’ her, I didn’t bother takin’ a lantern an’ havin’ a look-see in the stall. There didn’t seem ta be any need at the time. I was more concerned about gettin’ her settled down.”

“Can you remember about what time that was, Sparky?” Jeff probed.

The trainer scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe ’round eleven or even a li’l later. Can’t remember for sure, suh.”

“Search the next stall to see what you can find, Sparky. If a stranger was hiding there at the time, it could explain why Ariadne was raising up a ruckus.”

“That fool mare would’ve kicked the fella’s head off if’n he’da’ve tried goin’ inta her stall, but I guess that didn’t happen, ’cause I ain’t seen another body laid out around here.”

“The murderer might have taken such a chance in order to hide out from one of you. Maybe that’s what set Ariadne off in the first place.”

“Well, if’n the fella still has his head, he’s probably nigh senseless. That mare’s too ornery for just any fool ta get cozy with.”

Thaddeus cast a doleful glance at the sheet-draped body and shook his head mournfully, overwhelmed by the grotesque horror of it all. “Whad kind o’ man could do such a thin’, Mistah Jeffrey? Killin’ a li’l gal what’s done had herself a baby jes’ seems like somethin’ de devil’d do.”

To kill a young mother with a nursing infant definitely seemed a violation of nature, Jeff mentally agreed. People in the area would be aghast at the foulness of the deed. What was worse, Nell had been killed in his stables. Realistically he could imagine that Raelynn would only be the first of many who’d be suspicious of his involvement in the girl’s murder.

The tears and fear Jeff had glimpsed in his wife’s eyes when she had stared at him in the stables pierced him anew. Somehow he had to persuade her of his innocence.

He faced Sparky again. “Are any of the other horses missing?”

“No, suh, not that I’m aware.”

Jeff grew more determined. “Send someone out to find Elijah, Son of Wolf. I’d like to find out what he can make of all of this.”

“Yes, suh, Mistah Jeffrey.”

Upon his return to the plantation house, Jeff ensconced himself at his desk in the study and tried to concentrate on his account books for the plantation as he awaited the arrival of Sheriff Townsend. More than an hour later a knock sounded on the door.

Kingston entered at his summons. “Elijah’s here, Mistah Jeffrey.”

“Show him in.”

A tall, thin man of an age about two score five entered the room with hat in hand. He had obviously been awakened from a sound sleep by the summons. Nevertheless he was garbed in the clothes of his preference, buckskins and moccasins. His nose was lean and bore an aquiline curve, his features sharply chiseled, his black hair straight and cut bluntly just below his ears. His cocoa brown skin bore a reddish tinge, indicating his mixed blood. Rumor had it that Elijah’s mother, once a beautiful mulatto slave, had been taken captive at the age of five and ten by an Indian warrior, who had later made her his wife. A pair of years later another warring tribe raided the warrior’s camp, and after finding her husband dead, the mulatto had slipped away with her son. Thereafter they had lived in a hut on the outskirts of Charleston and fended for themselves until Elijah’s twelfth winter, when she had succumbed to pneumonia.

“Yo’ sent for me, suh?” Elijah asked in a deep voice that resonated in the room.

“Yes, I did, Elijah, and I thank you for coming so promptly.” Jeff peered at him questioningly. “Did anyone tell you what happened here?”

“Sparky let me know details on way ta house, suh,” the pathfinder acknowledged.

“The murder of the girl occurred in one of the horse stalls. At present, her body is still there. See what you can find in and around the stables. For a beginning reference, you can check the footprints of everyone working out there. If you come upon any prints that aren’t familiar, see where they lead. If they disappear near a set of carriage or wagon wheel tracks, we may be reasonably assured that the fellow either arrived or left by that mode of travel. If you should find a double pair of prints, one belonging to the girl, we can be fairly certain that Nell came out here with her murderer, but I leave you to be the judge of that.”

Any remaining traces of slumber had vanished from Elijah’s eyes. They were now keen, alert and imbued with a brighter light. “Sparky say it rain here last night. If water not wash prints away, I can do that, suh.”

Jeff managed a bland smile. Elijah’s tracking skills were nearly legendary throughout the Carolinas. Several years ago, the man had been sent out to search for a young child who had wandered off over rough terrain and bare rock ledges. Elijah never once lost the trail and eventually brought the youngster home safe and sound. Similar stories of his abilities assured Jeff that the man could find what others might overlook.

“Do your best, Elijah,” he urged. “Sheriff Townsend should be here shortly. If you find anything significant, you’ll be helping him solve this dastardly crime.”

Elijah left the study, and in his absence, Jeff began to pace about the confines of the room. Permanently etched in his memory was a haunting impression of Raelynn’s face stricken with horror. A strengthening desire to put things right between his wife and himself became almost overwhelming, and he struggled against the impetus that nearly drove him to leap up the stairs and to confront her about her readiness to believe the worst of him. There was that part of him that was highly offended by her refusal to hear him out. Once before she had taken Nell’s accusations seriously and had cast him from her bed, but he knew what Raelynn had recently seen would have shocked any woman. He also recognized the possible folly in stampeding her. If he faced her again and saw her quailing before him in mortal fear, it would nearly tear his heart out. No, he told himself, it was far better to let her have some time to put things into perspective. Perhaps then she could extend to him some marital courtesy by trusting in him through thick and thin.

Sipping from the cup of hot coffee that Kingston had brought to him, Jeff turned his gaze toward the windows. Little had he imagined after the grand affair which they had enjoyed the previous night that today would be comparable to hell. Sadly he watched the first dawning rays stretch out over Oakley and heaved a sigh of lament.

10

“Good of you to come so quickly, Rhys.”

The sheriff doffed his hat as he followed his friend into the main hall. “Your man said you had a murdered woman here, Jeff. What the hell happened?”

Jeff gestured toward the study. “We’ll talk in there if you don’t mind.”

Rhys nodded and, entering the room, plunked himself down into his favorite leather chair. A moment later Kingston entered, bearing a silver coffee service, and poured the sheriff a cup from the ornate pot. Gratefully Rhys nodded his thanks as he accepted the brew and then motioned for the servant to leave the service.

“If I’m going to remain standing on my feet, Kingston, I’ll be needing lots more of this stuff. Some people don’t have any compunction about keeping a fella up till the wee morning hours and then rousting him out of his bed barely an hour after he reaches home.”

Kingston managed a weak smile in spite of the trauma that still held the household in its grip. “Yassuh, Mistah Rhys, and dat’s de gospel.”

As the butler left, the sheriff downed the strong, black contents without lowering his cup. Jeff came around to the front of his desk and leaned back against the top edge, prompting Rhys to set aside his cup and glance up at his host. Meeting his friend’s gaze, Jeff quietly explained what had happened, at least as much as he knew.

“I was just falling asleep when I heard a woman scream. That was about one in the morning. After realizing that it had come from the general direction of the stables, I lit a lantern and went down to have a look around. I found Nell in one of the stalls with her baby. The girl was still alive, but only barely. She begged me to remove the knife. I did so, hoping I could stem the flow of blood, but she was fading fast. She asked me to hold her close just for a moment as if I really, truly cared for her. I did so, and she died in my arms.” He shook his head at the grim memory. “I can’t imagine the kind of monster who would do such a thing. The girl couldn’t have been more than six and ten years old at the most.”

“Did Nell say anything else to you, perhaps some indication of the killer’s identity?” Rhys Townsend asked. Noticeably absent was the rough dialect he was inclined to fake.

“No, she just seemed concerned about her child’s welfare. She asked me to find a woman to care for him.”

“Then she realized she was dying?”

“I would imagine so. She had lost a lot of blood and had grown very weak.”

“Yet she made no effort to name the one who had stabbed her.”

“None whatsoever. She just seemed to be grateful that I was there.” Jeff’s face was grim as he recalled her pitiful attempts. “She ran her hand over my sleeve and tried to smile at me.”

“After she succumbed, what did you do?”

Jeff hesitated. He was reluctant to expose Raelynn’s suspicions of him, but he could hardly avoid answering the question. “I sat back in the shadows for a while, just staring at Nell’s body, stunned by the savagery of her murder. A few moments later, my wife arrived. She had also been awakened. I’m not entirely sure by what. I think she came out to see where I was. Naturally, she became distraught when she saw Nell.”

“Where is she now?”

“Upstairs sleeping. At least, she was a few moments ago. Right now, I’d rather not see her disturbed any more than she has been, if it’s at all possible, Rhys.”

“I can talk with her later.” The sheriff reached across to the silver service and helped himself by pouring another cup of coffee. “Do you suppose Nell came out last night to have a look-see at you and your guests?”

Jeff lent his attention to the liquid in his own cup as he silently debated his options. Though it might well incriminate him in the girl’s murder, he saw the need for further explanations. “Nell came out here to the plantation the middle of July, shortly after Brandon and I had left you and your men to search Gustav’s warehouse for stolen goods. On the porch of this very house, she accused me rather loudly of being the father of her unborn child. When my wife came out, Nell had the audacity to suggest that Raelynn and I get an annulment. At the end of July, I saw her briefly at Farrell’s where she had started working. Then, about a week ago, she came out here again, I suppose to show me that the infant bore some resemblance to me.”

Rhys lifted his brows to a lofty height, but Jeff waved away the man’s unspoken question with a slash of his hand. Long ago he had come to the realization that his friend was very adept at coaxing people to talk. Largely by facial expressions and silently biding his time, Rhys managed to encourage confidences. Yet Jeff saw no point in withholding information about Nell’s accusations. If Rhys didn’t already know about them, then Jeff suffered no uncertainty that the man would find out the truth quickly enough. All he had to do was ask the servants working in the house. In spite of some peoples’ suppositions, no doubt arrived at because of the sheriff’s affected speech, Rhys was neither a fool nor a dimwit.

“If the boy favors me some small whit, Rhys, then it’s because he was sired by a man who may bear some resemblance to me. I’m not the child’s father, not by any stretch of the imagination.” Jeff sighed and decided to start over from the beginning. “More than a year ago, I hired Nell on for a time to make monogrammed linens for the house. I had heard that she was talented with a needle, and as it turned out, I was very pleased with her work and paid her a good wage. One night, while I was asleep in my room, she slipped into my bed and began fondling me. When I woke up and realized what she had been doing, I sent her packing.”

“I take it that nothing of an intimate nature happened between you.”

“Definitely not! If Nell was a virgin when she slipped into my bed, then that’s how she left it. But as close as I came to climbing on top of her in my sleep, I didn’t dare take any chances with her being in the house. I certainly didn’t want to have to do the
honorable
thing by her. As soon as she had packed her belongings, Thaddeus took her into Charleston and got her a room there. Obviously it didn’t take her long to find herself a man who wouldn’t kick her out of his bed, because she had her son almost nine months to the day I let her go.”