Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) (18 page)

Dusty from his journey, Jesse washed up and changed his shirt and jacket. He didn’t want to leave Hunter in jail any longer than necessary. Hopefully he would be able to bond him out and keep him in the room with him. He ran a brush through his hair, and grabbing a notepad and pen, left the room.

There was a distinctive odor to jails no matter the location or population. He’d been directed to a small room where Hunter would be brought to him. Since he was his attorney, he was allowed access to the prisoner even outside of visiting hours.

“Jesse!” Hunter’s face lit up as he strode to where Jesse stood looking out the window at the dismal scene of overfull garbage cans.

They hugged and then Jesse held Hunter’s shoulders and stared at him. “You look like hell.”

“Well, jail is not the most entertaining of places.”

Jesse gave him an encouraging smile. “Sit down, son. We need to get this sorted out.” He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Start at the beginning and don’t leave out any details.”

It took well over an hour, but finally Jesse laid his pen down and stretched. “That’s one hell of a story. You got yourself in pretty deep.”

“I know.”

Jesse rotated his stiff shoulders. “Why did you never tell anyone about witnessing your father’s murder?”

“I wanted to. In fact if I were to have told anyone, it would have been you. But the time never seemed right. You and Tori were trying so hard to keep your own relationship going, and then there always seemed to be others around.” He shrugged. “I guess I was arrogant enough to think I would find Smith, drag him off to jail, and see justice done.”

“The first thing we have to do is get you out of here.”

“No, Jesse, the first thing you need to do is see Emily. She must be a wreck, and at the same time trying to deal with the police questioning her, the funeral, the financial problems I’m sure Smith left her with. She needs help.”

“I’ll do both. We’ll apply for bail, and if it’s denied I have a few judges in Oklahoma Territory that will vouch for you being released into my custody. While that is in motion, I’ll see Emily and assure her she’s not alone.”

Hunter took a deep breath and hung his head, his shoulders slumping. “Thank you. That means more to me right now than getting out of jail.”

Jesse stood and rested his hand on Hunter’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We’ll do both.” He knocked on the door as a signal he was finished. The guard opened the door and escorted Hunter back to his cell.

A couple of hours later Jesse stepped out of a taxi and gave a low whistle as he studied the Smith mansion. The place must have had more than twenty rooms. Based on what Hunter had told him, misbegotten money had paid for the place.

He rang the doorbell and waited a very short time before the door was opened by a middle-aged woman who gave the appearance of a cook. She was cheerful looking, with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. She patted her hair as she looked him up and down. “Yes?”

“I would like to see Mrs. Smith.”

“If you’re one of those reporters, you can just turn yourself around and go back down those steps. Mrs. Smith is resting and will not speak to any members of the press.”

Jesse took out his business card and handed it to the woman. “I’m not with the press. Please give Mrs. Smith my card. I’m sure she will see me.”

Even though she appeared skeptical, the woman opened the door wider and allowed him to enter. “Stay right here.” She pointed at his chest like a recalcitrant child.

He grinned at her protectiveness and nodded to assure her he was not about to make off with the family silver in her absence. While he waited, he looked around. Mr. Smith had certainly lived high on the hog. The floor under his feet was marble, with thick carpet lining the parlor to his right and the dining room to his left. The staircase was enormous; ‘sweeping’ was the word that came to mind.

A movement caught his eye, and he watched as a young, very frightened looking woman came down the stairs. Dark circles under her eyes gave her a haunted appearance. Her blonde hair had been put up in a hurry, with locks falling around her forehead and temples. She clutched a handkerchief in her hand that appeared to have been given a lot of use.

She took furtive steps toward him. “Are you really Hunter’s Uncle Jesse?”

“Yes, I am. You are Mrs. Smith?”

She took one deep shaky breath and nodded her head. Then she flew into his arms, sobbing as if her heart were breaking.

Chapter 18

“Is there somewhere we can go that’s a bit more private?” Jesse patted the young woman on her back, somewhat uncomfortable with servants walking around.

She pulled back and wiped her nose. “Yes. I’m sorry. You must think me a dolt. It’s just that . . .”

“I understand.”

She was a pretty little thing, Hunter’s Emily. In some ways she reminded him of Michael’s Heidi. Her big blue eyes and blonde curls gave her a delicate, vulnerable look. Her reddened nose from crying didn’t help. Based on what Hunter had told him, Jesse would very much like to beat Mr. Smith senseless for putting his fists to this woman if the man weren’t already dead.

“Mrs. Granger, will you please send in refreshments?” Mrs. Smith gave her instructions to the woman who had answered the door as she led Jesse to a very pleasant room. By the decorations and furniture, it must have been her sitting room. He eyed the elegant, but fragile furniture, and chose the settee near the fireplace.

“How is Hunter? I assume you’ve seen him?”

“Yes. I just left the jailhouse.” He stopped when she began to cry again.

She took a deep breath and attempted a smile. “I am sorry, please go on.”

“Needless to say he is quite anxious about you, and how you are dealing with all of this.”

“I would be handling it much better if Hunter hadn’t been accused of Louis’s murder.” She hopped up from her chair and paced. “That’s the worst part. Then there’s the funeral Friday. I finally had to bar the door to visitors who were expecting me to discuss the horror of what’s happened, when my main concern is Hunter.” Taking her seat again, she added, “Can you imagine the scandal if anyone knew my main concern was not my husband’s death, but how his accused murderer is being treated? And—”

She stopped speaking when the door to the sitting room opened and Mrs. Granger entered with a tray of coffee, tea, and some type of sandwiches and pastries. She set the tray down and Emily thanked her with a smile. The woman cast curious glances at him, but eventually left the room.

“I can’t trust any of the staff.” Emily stood and moved to the tray. “Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please. No sugar, a bit of cream.”

She fixed his coffee, then placed a few small sandwiches and two pastries on a plate and brought them to him.

“Why do you say you can’t trust the staff?”

Mrs. Smith fixed a cup of tea, then took the chair across from him. “How much has Hunter told you about me?”

“Enough that I know he felt you were in danger here and wanted to get you away from Galveston. He gave me some details. I’m an attorney, I didn’t need to hear much more to know what your situation was.”

She colored slightly, which he’d found to be a common response from a woman who was being abused. For some reason they were embarrassed by it. Something he never understood, but acknowledged.

“Louis made sure the staff was loyal to him. Including my own maid. Now that he’s dead they are all probably expecting to be fired. I don’t want to deny anyone their livelihood, but I am extremely uncomfortable with the way things are now. I feel as though with Louis dead they’re spying on me for the police.”

“Has Louis’s attorney contacted you yet? I assume there is a will that needs to be probated?”

“I’m sure there is. That is another issue I need to deal with.”

Jesse put his plate on the small table in front of the settee. “I came here today to let you know that I will be doing my best to get this resolved as quickly as possible. As the attorney of record for the man accused of your husband’s murder I cannot get involved with you in any legal way. But anything else I can help you with, just let me know.” He reached into his pocket and took out a notebook. He scrawled his hotel information on a blank sheet and tore it off.

“Here. This is where I’m staying. I hope to get Hunter out on bail by tomorrow. I have a couple of judicial contacts in Oklahoma who will vouch for me, so hopefully the local authorities will release him into my custody.”

She took the paper. “Can I see him?”

“That will be tricky. I want to see you dragged into this as little as possible. I’m visiting with the police department later today to get as much information from them as I can, and then I’ll see the District Attorney. The fact that they are aware of a relationship between you and Hunter could bode serious problems for you.”

Her face paled. “What do you mean?”

“There have been cases where a married woman and her lover conspired to have the husband killed.”

She stood, her pale face now bright red. “We are not lovers! Despite what my husband was, and how he treated me, I am not an adulteress.”

Jesse rose and took her ice cold hands into his. “That is none of my business, but I just want you to know the possibility exists. Just be careful.”

She nodded, twisting the handkerchief again. “I will see you out.”

As they strolled toward the front door, Jesse said, “I would like to help you more, but once the newspapers get wind of who I am, it wouldn’t do well for us to be seen together, either. Once I establish what my defense will be—if it goes to trial, that is—I will most likely want to call you as a witness. But until then . . .”

“I understand.”

“I can have my wife travel down here to stay with you. I have plenty of other family in Guthrie to look after our children.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to disrupt your life. I’ll manage.”

He gave her a hug and left the house.

Now to see about getting Hunter out of jail.

“Mrs. Smith, might I ask you something?” Maria had just finished preparing Emily for bed. The maid stood near the door, her hands fiddling with the dress she had planned to work a stain out of.

“Yes, Maria. What is it?”

“Now that Mr. Smith is—gone, a few of the staff are wondering about our future.”

“I see.” Emily rose from the chair in front of her mirror and pulled on her dressing gown. “I really wish I could assure you all that your jobs are not in jeopardy, but . . .”

“What is it?”

Emily sighed. “Mr. Smith’s attorney, Mr. DeMarco, sent word shortly after dinner that he will be here Friday after the funeral for the reading of the will. He indicated no one need be present except me and Mr. Smith’s partner, Mr. Sanders. Until I hear from Mr. DeMarco what the situation is, I can’t promise anything to anyone. I have no idea what my husband’s wishes were, or what the financial situation is.”

She tried a reassuring smile for the maid. “I will call everyone together tomorrow to let you know what I have decided.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.” Maria opened the door, then turned back. “I just want you to know that Mr. Smith—God rest his soul—was a difficult employer.” She seemed to give herself time to gather her thoughts. “I know you were aware that I reported your activities to him. For that I am very sorry, but I need this job, and he said if I didn’t obey, he would dismiss me with no references.”

Another woman he’d abused. Maybe not with his fists, but certainly with a means that could destroy her if he so desired.

After Maria took her leave, Emily moved to the window and gazed down at the grounds. Truth be known, she was quite nervous about the will being read. When she and Louis had married, he assumed control of her entire inheritance, including what he’d received from the sale of her childhood home. He never discussed money with her, so she had no idea how much was left for her to live on.

Whatever future she might have or not have with Hunter, she still wanted her own funds. Never again would she be trapped.

But, oh, how she missed Hunter and worried constantly about the murder charges. There had never been a question in her mind that Hunter might have killed Louis. When she had paid a visit to Millie to have a black dress quickly made for the funeral, the dressmaker told her that Hunter had been planning for them to escape the morning she’d discovered Louis’s body.

She sighed and once more sat before her mirror. What would Friday bring? The funeral would be bad enough, with so many people staring at her, waiting for tears and wailing when she wanted to dance on the man’s grave.

But her main concern was the will. Would she find she was penniless once again? And then as horrible as that situation would be, a worse thought had occurred to her only recently. Since Hunter hadn’t killed Louis, who had? While the police had the wrong person whiling away his time in jail, the real killer remained free.

Glancing out the window of her bedroom, she realized a murderer, who had been in this very house, was out there somewhere. Chilled, she ran her palms up and down her arms.

Shortly after midnight, Hunter once more climbed the tree behind the Smith mansion until he was even with the window leading to the storage room he’d used before to enter the house. Hopefully no one thought it necessary to lock it since his last visit.

Jesse had gotten him out of jail only hours before. He’d been released into his uncle’s custody since the Judge hadn’t wanted to bond him out. Thank God Jesse had sufficient contacts in the legal field to lean on the Judge. They still had to post bail, and he was warned not to cause any trouble while out, or he would find himself behind bars again.

He hated taking advantage of his uncle once he’d fallen asleep by slipping out of the hotel like some troublesome adolescent, but he had to see Emily. Hold her. Make sure she was all right. She still had the funeral to face. Hopefully, after that things would begin to calm down for her. According to his uncle she had been quite upset when he’d visited.

His feet landed softly on the floor of the storeroom, and he waited a minute to make sure he hadn’t been heard. Even though he no longer had to worry about Louis finding him, any of the staff he might stumble upon would immediately report it to the police, which would drive another nail in his coffin.

The murder suspect knew how to get into the Smith mansion through a window.

He shuddered, just thinking about how Jesse would react to that little detail.

Emily lay on her side again, facing the window, a slight bump in the shadows. With practiced stealth learned in the Rangers, he moved across the floor and stood over her bed. She looked so young and delicate. Everything possessive in him rose to the surface, and all he wanted to do was snatch her from the bed and run. Except they tried that once before. He’d promised himself when he and Emily left Galveston it would be for good and with dignity.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and her eyes flew open. “Hunter!” A smile broke out on her face, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him down alongside her.

“You’re out of jail? Is it all right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I didn’t make a break. Jesse bonded me out.” He pulled her to his chest and nuzzled her neck. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tight.

He tilted her chin to see her reflection in the moonlight. “I don’t like the dark circles under your eyes.”

Emily scooted over, making room on the bed for Hunter to join her. He toed off his boots and climbed in next to her, both of them leaning against the headboard. He grasped her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “How I wish we could spend our nights together.”

“And I wish we could spend all our time together.”

He ran his knuckles down her soft cheek. “We will. As horrible as a murder is, you’re free now. I can’t say I’m sorry Louis was killed, because I was hoping to get him hanged for my father’s murder, anyway. But since he’s dead, as soon as this is all cleared up, we can leave. Together.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, tracing circles on his chest with her finger, driving him crazy with her light, delicate touch. “Where will we go?”

“Guthrie. But that doesn’t have to be our final stop. The whole world is open to us.”

Studying his face, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t ask you right now, honey, because of barriers in our way—such as me being charged with murder. Once that is resolved, I have an important question for you to answer.”

She blushed. “Which is?”

“Not yet, my little nosy Rosie.” Hunter reached out and brought her mouth to his. The nectar of Emily’s lips, the sweet taste of her as he swept into the warm dark space, skimming her teeth and sucking her tongue, filled him with longing, a craving so strong to possess her it became a physical ache. He had to claim her, make her his.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he slid them both down until they were lying together, face to face. He cupped her cheeks and scattered kisses over her eyelids, nose, mouth, chin, anywhere his lips could touch.

While she fumbled to open the buttons on his shirt, his hand was busy gliding up her ribs to cover her breast. He squeezed the softness, smiling at the slight moan that escaped her lips as his thumb skimmed her nipple.

“I want to make love to you.” He whispered into her ear, licking the outside, blowing softly onto her tender skin. “I want to feel your soft skin against my hands, watch your face as passion claims you. I’ve wanted to hold you naked in my arms for a long time, since before you left Guthrie.”

She shuddered. “I can’t. I enjoy kissing you, I really do. But the other? It’s just too painful.”

He frowned. “Painful?”

Tears rimmed her beautiful eyes as she nodded. “Yes. There was always so much pain. Louis said it was because I was frigid, that there was something wrong with me.” She started to draw away from him.

Blood pounded in his ears. Of course. Why hadn’t he realized? The monster Louis had been would have enjoyed causing his wife pain instead of pleasure in the bedroom. Emily was a warm, loving woman. As far as he was concerned, there were no frigid women, just clumsy, selfish men.

How he wanted to show her what intimacy was like between two people who cared for each other, who wanted to please each other. Would he ever stop wishing Louis were still alive so he could beat him to death?