CHAPTER
NINE
SHAD, BRINGIN THE MAN WE CAUGHT,”Zane ordered.
Shad was none too gentle when he brought the man in.
Zane grabbed the intruder by the arm and sat him down hard at his kitchen table. He was huge. He had an ugly scar down the left side of his face. His nose was red and bulbous, possibly broken by Michelle and her book.
Zane remembered how Michelle and Jilly had beaten on him last night. It stirred a strange kind of pride in his heart for these two tough women.
All four of them, plus Annie, stared hard at the intruder.
“What’s your name?” Zane finally asked.
“It’s Jarvis Smith, Boss,” Shad said. “He told me when I bribed him with breakfast.”
“Smith? A pretty common name.”
“Ain’t no way to treat a man to withhold food like that. You get food even in prison.”
“Which is where you’re going when we’re done here,” Zane said.
The man snorted. “Not likely.”
Zane studied him. He would have been good-looking if not for the ugly scar and the bruises. His hair was neatly trimmed. He was well dressed in a western manner. Little wear on his blue jeans. Boots that looked like they were shined regularly. No tattered shirt collar. A well-paid hired hand was Zane’s guess. But hired by whom? And for what?
“You think you can break into a woman’s bedroom, attack and assault two women, and not spend time in prison?” Zane said.
“I won’t spend a single night in jail. I’ve got friends.”
“And I’m friends with the sheriff.” Zane scowled. “Stockwood is a good man. If your friends intend to bribe him, they’re out of luck, and if they try a jailbreak, they’ll end up in the cell right alongside you.”
Zane didn’t see the man squirm even a little. “Who hired you?”
“Don’t know what you mean. I had a little too much to drink. Fell off my horse and walked awhile. I stumbled on your place. Didn’t know where I was when I climbed through that window. I don’t even remember doing it. These women attacked me. I’m sure I scared them, and I’m sorry for that. But I didn’t mean any harm.”
Zane thought of all the stupid things a man could do and blame it on drink. He didn’t believe it. He’d helped knock this man down last night. Not a whiff of whiskey on his breath. Any staggering he’d done was due to the beating he’d taken.
“I shouted when you came in.” Michelle’s voice was cold, sharp, and direct. “I screamed for help and ran. You came after me and tackled me. There was nothing uncoordinatedabout your movements. You were steady and fit and sober as a judge. When the trial comes, I’ll be glad to testify to that.”
She said it without hesitation. Complete assurance. Zane saw the first trickle of sweat appear on Smith’s brow.
“I was there, too.” Jilly came around the table and stood beside her sister, hands on her hips, green eyes bright. “You didn’t climb in a window looking for shelter. You came in quietly. I was in the next room and didn’t hear you until the screaming started. When I knocked you sideways off the woman you were attacking, you fell, but then you spun around, steady and capable. Very deliberate. You knocked me down and held me down until my sister came after you. And even with both of us struggling and crying for help, you didn’t break off the attack until Zane came into the room and dragged you off both of us.”
Zane noticed that Jilly was very careful not to say her or Michelle’s names. But if they testified at a trial, they’d have to identify themselves.
Another trickle of sweat followed the trail left by the nasty scar on Jarvis’s face. There was something about these two women. A solid, confident way of talking that knocked him loose from his story.
“Who hired you?” Zane repeated. “If you talk, the judge will take it into consideration when he passes the sentence when you’re found guilty. If you don’t, it’s a rough country around here, Smith. A mostly male country. A woman is a rare and fine thing, and men in the West protect their women and judge harshly a man who would harm one. Attacking a woman will get you hanged. And well it should.”
Smith gave Zane a wide smile, which didn’t match the sweat and the tension around his jaw. But he did a good jobof faking a confident smile. “They were scared. They misjudged the situation. It could happen to anyone.”
When he smiled a gold tooth flashed. Not front and center but close.
Into the quiet, Annie spoke. “I recognize you. That smile. That tooth. Yes, and the scar. You’re one of the men who attacked my ranch. Your name isn’t Smith. It’s Benteen. You’re Horace Benteen’s son.”
Michelle gasped so hard she started to cough. Jilly turned away from their prisoner and patted Michelle firmly on the back.