Page 15 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 15

Tuesday, June 24, 1873

Was Rion the murderer?

Callie sat up, pressing her hand to her stomach for the hundredth time. The motion hadn’t yet settled her roiling stomach.

For most of the night, her mind had churned over what she knew. Rion had been in Chicago at the time of the first murder—and in St. Louis the same week as the second. A soiled dove had come forward to say she’d seen Rion with the seventh victim not long before she disappeared. And he matched the vague description of the murderer: big, dark hair, and dark beard. Was it enough for a conviction? She was no lawyer, but it was enough to make one question.

Even Joe was—

Choking back her emotion, she turned again to the question that had plagued her night. If Rion was the murderer, real or suspected, what should she do? She’d spent fifteen years hoping to reunite with her brother and sister—and just when her dream was nearly in hand, fate threatened to snatch it away.

If Rion had killed seven women, she must bring him in. He should hang.

She doubled over with a sob.

It was her job. She’d asked Mr. Pinkerton for this opportunity—and had loved the challenge until that challenge turned impossible.

Shaking her head, Callie rose and dressed. She needed to do something rather than letting her mind spin. Lady was still in Mrs. Ingram’s barn. She ought to return her to the livery so there was room for Hattie’s mare if she returned today. Maybe the change of scenery would break her repeating thoughts and help her clear her head.

In stockinged feet, Callie carried her boots, hat, and rifle to the kitchen. Only Mrs. Ingram stirred, kneading fresh bread dough.

“You’re up early. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She sat in a chair in the corner and slipped into her boots. “I wanted to get Lady moved to the livery this morning so she didn’t eat up all your hay and oats or take up Hattie’s space. I don’t think I’ll be long.”

“I’d say wait for Mr. Nesbitt to escort you, but he returned so late last night.”

Her lips parted. “He did?” Hope sprang up where there’d been none. Perhaps he’d already sorted this out.

“He slept a couple hours, and he’s gone again.”

Hope died as quickly as it came. If Joe was already out after so little sleep, that didn’t bode well. Mrs. Ingram chattered on as, once again, Callie’s stomach threatened to rebel.

She forced a smile. “I’ll be careful. I’ve got my rifle, and I’m planning to go only to the livery and back.”

“If you must, but there’s no rush. I don’t expect Hattie before tomorrow—and we’ve plenty of hay and oats.”

Callie nodded, took up her hat and gun, and hurried outside to the barn. When she opened the door, Lady nickered, and Callie slipped the bridle over her nose, then led her out to the hitching post. After an affectionate rub, she returned to the barn but found that Rion had stashed her saddle on the highest row of the saddle rack, out of her reach. Lighting the lantern, she found a wooden crate to stand on, tested its sturdiness, and carried it to the back wall where the saddle waited. As she bent to set the crate in place, a boot track caught her eye, and she paused, squinting in the shadowy light.

Heart pounding, she paced back to grab the lantern and returned. There, a Rion-sized footprint marred the ground, and in its heel, a crescent-shaped scar—just like the one she’d seen inside the abandoned cabin days earlier.

“Sorry, big fella.” Joe patted Rusty’s shoulder as he saddled him. “We’ve been burning the midnight oil, haven’t we?”

How in heaven’s name had Rion Braddock, a big man with two horses, disappeared like a ghost—there one minute, a vapor the next? From the time he left the boardinghouse the previous night, no one had seen him.

To cover more territory, he and Downing had gone in separate directions. Joe had chosen the far end of town, comprised of the business district at the center and west parts of town, brothels on the south side, and some residences to the north. He chose that direction largely because that was where Callie had headed on her fishing trip. Downing had taken the other end, where a few businesses and many homes were located.

When they’d met back together hours later, neither had found the bounty hunter. And with no moonlight, it hadn’t made sense trying to traverse unfamiliar mountain paths, riding over his potential trail, and wiping out clues in the dark. So Joe was up with the first gray streaks of dawn to continue the search.

As he tightened Rusty’s cinch, the slow rhythmic sound of hooves entered the barn and clopped nearer. Movement near the end of the aisle drew his attention, and glancing up, he saw Callie and Lady come into view. He’d have expected Cooper Downing, not her. Seeing him, she stopped short and took off her hat. His heart gave a little skip at the sight of her medium-brown hair hanging in loose waves over her shoulders. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, she was beautiful.

Leaving Rusty, he walked to her, keeping his voice low. “Morning. Are you all right?”

She swallowed hard, straightened, and hooked her hat’s string around Lady’s saddle horn. “I suppose.” She also whispered. “Did you find my—” She stared at a button on his shirt. “—Mr. Rion?”

“Not yet.” He ducked to catch her gaze, though she wouldn’t meet it. “Callie, I know you consider him your friend, but seven women are dead, and more may be in danger.”

She raked a fierce look his way. “Not by his hand!”

Joe’s brows arched, and her severe expression dimmed into pain.

“I’m sorry.”

Finding no one else nearby, he drew her into the aisle anyway, out of sight of the main entrance, and tugged her into his arms.

“I know this isn’t easy for you.”

She shook her head against his chest.

“Braddock’s not necessarily responsible for anything, but we’ve got to find him and ask some questions. He’s the best lead we’ve got right now.”

A stuttering breath shook her slight frame.

“Do you know where to find him?”

A deafening silence hung between them before she finally squeaked, “No.”

“You found him yesterday.”

She pulled back to look at him, her expression pitiful. “He found me.”

Joe brushed her cheek and smoothed her pretty hair, his heart aching. Especially with the question he must ask next.

“Callie, are you able to be objective?”

She bobbed her head, faintly at first, then more emphatically. “Yes. It’s just taken me by surprise. Finding him in the first place—as well as this new turn.”

A reasonable answer—but was it truthful? This would bear watching. “Why’re you here so early?”

“I was awake, so I thought I’d bring Lady back and get her settled.”

“What are your plans today?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Will you ride with me? Show me where Braddock found you?”

She bit her lip but eventually nodded. “I suppose.”

“All right, then.” He paced back to Rusty’s side, checked the saddle, and tugged his reins to get him moving toward Callie. When he turned, she had replaced her hat and was turning Lady back toward the livery’s entrance.

As they walked their horses out together and paused at the water trough, Downing came trotting down the silent street, aiming his brown horse toward them.

“Nesbitt. Miss.” He nodded, then focused on Callie. “Uh, would you give us a minute alone?”

She glanced Joe’s way and attempted to hand off Lady’s reins, though Joe faced the sheriff. “She can stay.”

Downing looked uncomfortable. “You might ought to rethink that, Nesbitt.”

Joe stared at the man, handed Callie Rusty’s reins instead, and paced to the far side of the livery’s entrance. Downing dismounted and joined him.

“We got a problem. Little Josiah Tunstall pounded on my door a bit ago. His mama, Annie, is Hattie’s good friend.”

Concern wrapped around him like an icy chain. “Hattie’s been staying with her while her husband’s away.”

Downing nodded, staring into the dirt. “The boy heard a scuffle outside near his folks’ barn last night. He couldn’t see much from his window, but what he did see is a concern. A big fella with dark hair and a beard, leadin’ two horses, grabbed Miss Hattie out in the barn. Josiah saw her go limp in his arms, and the big fella wrestled her over one horse and rode off.”

Joe’s heart stuttered. He should’ve checked on Hattie. He’d almost reached the Tunstall home when he’d talked himself into returning to the boardinghouse to see that Braddock left. Then Downing scared the bejeebers out of him, and the whole night went cockeyed.

“He said he knocked on my door in the night, tryin’ to tell me just after it happened, but obviously … I wasn’t there.”

Joe swore under his breath, but immediately closed his eyes.

Forgive me, Almighty Father. And help. This is all turning sideways.

“I want to talk to the Tunstalls, have a look around.”

“Reckon I better tell Bess Ingram. She’ll want to know her daughter’s missin’.”

Joe wiped a hand across his brow. “Kezia?”

She led their horses over and waited.

“Plans have changed. I think it best if you go with Sheriff Downing back to Mrs. Ingram’s. Apparently, Hattie’s gone missing overnight. It would be good for Mrs. Ingram to have some support when the sheriff breaks the news to her.”

“Hattie’s … missing?” Color drained from her face, and she gulped a breath.

“Don’t you worry, Miss.” Downing fidgeted with his horse’s reins. “We’ll find her right quick. I promise.”

“Oh my—” Her features contorted, and a sob wrenched free. For the second time that morning, Joe held her in his arms, this time not caring who saw.