The Color of Ivy (21 page)

“This explains how our friend in the woods knew about your identity. 
As promised, the conductor sent word to the city that I was bringing you in.”

“
Why is this happening?  I didn’t kill him.”

She felt him shake his head behind her.  “
Keep your voice down.  We need to stay low and out of sight.  Don’t want any money hungry fool to tip our whereabouts off before I’ve got a chance to talk to the authorities first.”

“Do ye really think that will make a difference?”

There was a pause, then, “Let’s hope so.”

The livery was deserted when they rode their horse into an empty stall.  Sam made quick time of un
tacking the animal and feeding it.  Taking Ivy by the hand, he led her through the barn where a wooden ladder stretched up into a dark hole on the floor above.  Instinctively, she pulled back.

Sam turned and gave her a curious look.  “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go up there.”

His head turned and followed her gaze.  Dropping her hand, he patted her on the shoulder and said, “Wait here.  I’ll go and have a look first.  Stay
hidden in case anyone comes.”

She nodded, grateful for his consideration.  As she watched his figure disappear into the small opening overhead, she felt her insides begin to squeeze.  Then he disappeared out of sight altogether.  As the minutes ticked by, she felt the knot in her stomach begin to twist.  What was taking so long?

Thumping her foot nervously, she glanced back over her shoulder to ensure no one was coming before calling out, “Sam?  Where are ye?”

Nothing.

Tiny creases folded along her forehead as she frowned heavily, craning her neck back to peer as best she could into the hole.  There was no movement from up above.  Not even the sound of footsteps.  Her pulse was beating so hard, it literally felt painful against her chest.

“Sam?”

This time when she received no response, she placed her foot on the bottom rung without thought and was about to climb up after him when his face suddenly appeared in the small hole.

“Yeah?”

She could have cried with relief.  “Why didn’t ye answer?”

“I just heard you now.  Is something wrong?”

Yes.  I thought I lost you
.

“No.”

He raised his brows briefly, but nodded to the ladder and said, “You can come up.  There’s a small hatch door on the far side, but it opens.”

It startled her to realize how well he knew her.  Placing her foot on the ladder, she reached up and grabbed the next rung.  She made her way carefully upward, having to stop only the few times when her skirts got in
the way.

“You need any help?”

She shook her head, but did not look up.  She was never very fond of heights.  Even though she knew better, she turned and looked over her shoulder.  The floor seemed so far down.

“Ivy?  Are you okay?”

Again, she nodded, but did not move.  Her legs felt suddenly frozen, her fingers unable to release their grip on the ladder.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.  You’re nearly there.  Just a little further now.  Come on, you can do it.”

It was the softness in his voice that had her chin rising.  He leaned down through the small opening, his arm outstretched toward her.  “Trust me.”

She really, truly wanted to.  More than she ever thought possible.  No one had ever made her feel the way he did.  Taking a huge swallow, she forced her heart back down out of her throat and into her
chest.  Then with shaky limbs, she reached up and grabbed hold of the next rung until she felt Sam’s fingers curl around her wrists and pull her up into the loft.

Relieved to find solid ground beneath her once more, she quickly collapsed and released a huge sigh.  Sam dropped down next to and gave her a wide grin, showing off those wonderful dimples of his alongside his mouth.  “See, ma’am, you did just fine.”

She actually was able to produce a smile, albeit a shaky one, while he took hold of her hand and propelled her toward the far end of the barn where indeed there was a small hatch door.  Sam dropped her hand long enough to push it open and allow light inside.  And air.

“Thank ye.”

“No problem.”  He grinned again, then unexpectedly leaned forward and kissed her quickly on the mouth.  “Stay here, and do your best not to draw any attention.”

She nodded
, then watched him leave, hating the feeling of abandonment that came over her as he did.  He would return.  He hadn’t deserted her in that church.  He had come back for her.  Even if it would have been far simpler to leave her behind.  Allow the flames to consume her body.  She had seen the cost of bringing her back dead.  It would have been well worth it.

This thought brought a nasty reminder to Ivy.  Though Sam claimed to want to help her, in the end he would do what he felt was right.  He would turn her into the law.  It was what drove him all these years.  His own personal justice for the crime his mother had committed thirty something years ago.  If there was one thing she knew about Sam Michalski, was that the law came first.

Yes, she didn’t doubt, he would do his best to clear her name.  He wasn’t the type of man to allow an innocent woman to hang without doing all he could.  But Ivy had come to learn over her lifetime, there were some things one simply had no control over.

* * *

Sam made his way quickly over the boardwalk and down the main street.  He did his best to keep his head down while at the same time remaining very observant to those around him.  The conductor had apparently been able to send word from the train after his discussion with Sam.  Seven days ago, that would have suited him fine.  Now, he needed more time.

Up ahead, he saw the police station and decided to head for the doctor’s first even if it were furthest away.  Ivy needed her ankle looked at soon.  He feared she might have done some permanent damage to it over these last few days.

Just as he passed the police station, the door opened and a man stepped outside.  He was tall.  A good seven inches over six feet.  His Stetson covered a gray head of hair, and shadowed a face aged well beyond his years, though it was partially concealed by a bushy salt and pepper beard.  Over his left chest, he proudly wore a silver badge in the shape of a star, depicting the words
US Marshal Oklahoma Territory
.

Sam came to a dead stop.  “Roy?”

He didn’t look surprised in the least to see Sam.  He gave him a grin before looking him up and down.  “Glad to see you made it out alive.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Heard about the derailment.  Mighty nasty accident.  Combination of faulty brakes and a glitch in the track.  Terrible event.”  He told Sam.  “Feared I’d have to take you back in a pine box.”

Sam frowned.  “You came all this way to claim my dead body?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t.  When they finally got a rescue team down to the accident, it was mighty scary there for a bit.  All those dead folks.”

“How did you know I survived?”

“They did a head count.  Was informed there were no unidentified male bodies found.  I always knew you had it in you to survive the worst of situations.”

“I was lucky.”

Sam noticed Roy’s attention move slightly behind him as if looking for something.  Or someone.  “There was, however, one missing passenger not accounted for.  A maid by the name of Moira James.”

Sam remained indifferent, not indicating the name rang any bells. 
He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to tell Roy about Ivy.

The marshal held his gaze for a few extra moments longer before smiling suddenly. 
“Where were you headed?”

“The tavern.  A man gets mighty hungry being out in the wilderness for so many days.”

The marshal nodded, and then paused to study Sam closely.  Hell, he knew him too well.  Sam gritted his teeth and forced any revealing signs from appearing in his expression.  “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Moira James, would you?”

The door to the police station opened again and two men he did not recognize stepped out to stand next to Roy.  Their matching stars, however, identified them as deputies.  Unease swept over him.  Trying to feign surprise, he arched his brows and asked, “You looking after this case?  I would have thought it was under Canadian jurisdiction.”

“Just the missing woman.”  Roy’s eyes pierced Sam with a hard look.  “Where is she, Sam?”

“I can’t help you.
”  He remained blank as he stared Roy down.

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve made this mistake before.”

“Not this time.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed Sam closer.  “You’ve gotten too close, boy.  You need to step back.”

“She didn’t do it, Roy.”

“I’m sure that’s what she wants you to believe.”

“Dammit, she’s not lying.  She’s innocent.”

“They all are.”

“This one is.”  He held his ground, not taking his eyes off Roy even though his deputies stepped closer.  Sam wasn’t so easily intimidated.

“Then do the right thing and bring her in, Sam.  Let a court make that decision.”

“No.  I need more time.”

“For what?  To allow her to
lure you further into her web?”  He sounded harsh as if remembering the last time a woman had nearly destroyed Sam.  Then controlling his temper, he softened his voice and said, “This isn’t your concern.  Leave it in the hands of the law.”

“She is my concern.”

The look of disappointment on Roy’s face unnerved Sam slightly.  He had always held his opinion in high regards.

The
marshal sighed and to humor Sam, asked “Do you have some new evidence?”

“I might have an eyewitness.”

“There is already an eyewitness.  What can yours prove to counteract Rebecca Taylor’s testimony?  And who is it, exactly?  Where have they been?  Why didn’t they come forward before?”

Sam froze.  “Whos
e testimony?”

“Rebecca Taylor, the eyewitness.  She signed a
sworn statement claiming she witnessed Ivy beating Phillip Hendrickson with the iron poker.”

“
Becky
Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe she goes by that name.  Why?”

“That can’t be right.  There has to be a mistake.”

“What are you getting at, Sam?”

“Ivy said she saw Becky Taylor in the corridor that night after leaving Mr. Hendrickson’s room.  She couldn’t have possibly witnessed anything inside that room.”

“It is possible Ms. Taylor was witness to the after
math of the killing.  But no matter.  The handkerchief covering the victims face belonged to Ivy McGregor.  Hell, her initials were embroidered into a corner.  What more proof do you need?”

“She
told me she misplaced it in her rush to escape the room.  Phillip Hendrickson had struck her and she used it to wipe up the blood.”

“How convenient for her,” Roy sighed, and then asked, “How does she explain it being found across the victim’s face?”

“She couldn’t.”  A frown tugged at Sam’s brows.  “The real killer could have used it to help frame her.”

“Why would they do that?  Why her?  There are a half a dozen other servants in that house.”

Sam had no answer.  He hadn’t been able to figure that one out yet either.  “It could have been a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“And what
about Ms. Taylor’s testimony?  Why would she lie?  Is it not a fact that Ivy McGregor was close to both her and her mother?”

Sam felt a horrible feeling of unease creep in.  Immediately he pushed it aside.  “You admit yourself she might not have even witnessed the actual murder.  If Ivy w
as the last person seen leaving that room, there could have been a time lapse when the actual killer arrived.”

“And what of the dress?  In Ms. Taylor’s affidavit
, she states that she saw blood covering the front of Ivy McGregor’s dress when she exited the room.  The exact same dress the authorities uncovered a few hours later buried in the bottom of the laundry bin.”

This made Sam pause.  “That can’t be true.  She must be lying.”

“Sam.  Think about it.”  Roy’s tone of voice turned to pity.  “What reason would she have?  Ms. Taylor is not the one on the run.  She isn’t the one hiding across the border using an alias.”

When Sam’s head jerked up,
signs of doubt creeping in, Roy narrowed in.  “She isn’t the one trying to hide something.”

Sam needed time to think.  This couldn’t be right.  There had to be a mistake.  He believed Ivy.

Just as he had Daphne.

“Where is she Sam?”

He didn’t want to accept the possibility he had made the same mistake twice.  He knew better than that.  With Ivy he was sure she hadn’t lied.  That she was innocent.