Thirty

It took Judge Rameriz less than ten minutes to hear the state’s case and decide Claire should be tried for the murder of Duncan Morrell. The pro bono attorney assigned to her usually practiced probate law, but that wasn’t the problem. At this point, all the state had to show was enough evidence to warrant a trial. They had the murder weapon as well as her wallet and panties that had been found in the room next door to the victim.

“No bail?” Claire clutched her attorney’s arm as the judge refused to set bail for her. “Can he do that?”

The elderly lawyer sighed. “Yes. Very few first-degree murder suspects get bail.”

She lowered her head, ignoring the crowded courtroom. What did it matter? She had no hope of raising bail. She owned little of value to put up as a bond. Angela might be persuaded to help, but Suzi hadn’t been able to locate her. Zach hadn’t appeared either. Not having him here at such a crucial time frightened her.

Two deputies led her out of the court’s back door. Tohono was waiting in the hall, his weathered face troubled. She’d been conscious of his presence in court, the only friendly face among the crowd.

“Claire,” he said, and the deputies, being part pueblo Indian, halted out of respect for their leader. “Are they treating you well?”

She tried for a joke. “Sure. No wonder they call jail the Gray Bar Hilton.”

Tohono’s eyes narrowed, and she could see he understood how upset she was. How frightened.

“Remember Popé. His spirit is with you,” he said quietly.

“Popé?” It took a second to make sense. Centuries ago, Franciscan friars had whipped Popé for practicing his native religion. The Taos pueblo, known for their peaceful Indians, staged a bloody uprising and drove the Spanish back into Texas. “Don’t talk in riddles, Tohono. Not now.”

“Popé had right on his side and won against tremendous odds. Right is on your side, Claire. Be strong and your enemies will suffer.”

Sometimes she wanted to throttle Tohono for talking in riddles. Couldn’t he see she was in terrible trouble? “Last time you said to beware of coyote. That’s closer to the truth.”

“Ah, Claire, you did not understand. I warned you that coyote was waiting—hiding. Your enemy is out in the open now where you can defeat him if you have the courage.”

Tohono walked away and the deputies returned her to the lonely cell. Despite his cryptic words, Tohono’s message made sense. She’d been framed for a reason. If she knew what it was, she could defend herself. Someone had called the police about the gun. Who? Why had they waited so long?

Thinking about the evidence the state had against her made Claire shudder. Most of it was circumstantial. These things alone did not prove her guilt, but when added to the fact that she had no alibi for the night of the murder, it was not difficult to imagine a jury convicting her.

She was pondering the frightening turn of events when the guard announced she had a visitor. She hurried into the visiting room, hoping Zach had returned. Bam Stegner was waiting for her, wearing a black and white cowhide vest and deadly-looking stiletto spurs.

She stopped near the door, thankful for the guard. “What do you want?”

Bam chuckled, his Budda-like gut jiggling over his belt. “Don’t be a bitch. I’m here to help you.”

She bit back a scathing remark, wondering if Bam could possibly help her. Right now, she was desperate enough to try anything.

Her hesitation brought a smile. “Do you know why they call me Bam?” He didn’t pause for her response. “It’s short for ‘Wham, Bam, Thank you, Ma’am.’ Women just love me.” He put his knuckles on the visitor’s table and leaned toward her. “You and me could be right friendly.”

“In your dreams.” She turned to leave.

“I could help you,” he said quickly. “I hear your pa kissed you off. I’ll pay for one of those hot-shot LA lawyers to defend you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Why would you do that?”

He studied her for a moment before saying, “It would be a fair trade. You tell me where to find my bear, and I’ll get you a lawyer.”

The bear meant that much to him. Unbelievable.

“Even if I knew where Khadafi was, which I don’t, I wouldn’t turn him over to the likes of you. No way. No way in hell.”

A sound erupted from his throat that might have been a laugh. He stomped his boots and the vicious spurs clinked. “Just remember, bitch, I gave you a chance.”

Brad Yeager was waiting for Zach as he walked off the plane from Dallas. “We were right,” Yeager told him with a smile. “Bassinger was dead at least two hours longer than Vanessa Trent and that sleazeball attorney claimed.”

Zach shifted his bag to his other shoulder so he could give Yeager a high five. “Damn! We’re good. Any chance they killed him?”

“Nah. He had a preexisting heart condition. Death was due to a massive coronary.” Yeager walked beside him as they crossed the terminal. “What did you find out?”

“It took some persuading, but one of Max Bassinger’s attorneys gave me a complete list of everything in the safe and the combination. It seems Bassinger was real anal about things like that.”

Yeager led him out of the building, saying, “Anything in there worth taking?”

“Copies of contracts. Lists of investments.” Zach couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “And five million dollars in bearer bonds.”

Yeager stopped dead in his tracks. “No shit! Wanna bet when we open Bassinger’s safe, those bonds won’t be there?”

“What does that prove? They’ll claim Bassinger gave them to him before he died. Since those bonds don’t need to be signed or anything, it’ll be their word against ours.”

They began walking again, and Yeager said, “True, but there may be another angle on this. Let’s keep the time of death secret while we check the safe and then take a look at Seth and Vanessa’s bank records.”

Zach agreed even though he didn’t like people not knowing the truth. Most everyone in town believed Seth Ramsey and the dumb actress. He wanted to be right about this case, then solve Duncan Morrell’s murder.

Yeager unlocked his car, and Zach tossed his bag into the back seat. He was climbing in when Yeager said, “You’ve got problems with Ollie Hammond. While you were away, he took over the Morrell case. Claire Holt’s been arrested for his murder.”

For one gut-cramping minute the world froze. “Arrested?” The word was a hollow echo like a voice in a crypt.

Just after dinner, the guard escorted Claire into an interrogation room. Zach was waiting for her inside, and the guard left them alone. Just the sight of him brought the hot sting of tears to her eyes. She hated admitting she was so weak, but she’d felt so alone. Inhaling a deep breath, she managed to smile.

“Claire … I’m so sorry.” He looked confused and upset.

In that moment, he seemed more vulnerable than she ever could have imagined. His strength had always fascinated her, but the ruthless loner seemed to have vanished, leaving this man. His obvious concern for her touched her in an unexpected way. Why, he honestly cared about her.

His hand curled gently around her shoulder and she moved into his arms and hugged him tight. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to enjoy the moment and surrender to the comfort and security his embrace offered. No matter what happened, knowing Zach cared made her stronger, more able to face the ordeal ahead.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Away on business.” He pulled back studying her face, his arms still around her. “We only have a few minutes before the night duty officer rousts Hammond from home. I had to do some fast talking to get to see you alone.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. Someone found out I spent the night at The Hideaway. They planted—”

“I know all about it. Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.” The fierce determination in his voice should have reassured her, but there was something troubling about his expression. “I want to know if you can hang on for another day or two.”

“Hang on?” she asked. “Do I have a choice?”

His eyes reflected pain and a tremendous strength of will. “Yes. I can get you out tonight, but if you can wait just a day or two, I’ll be able to do better. We’ll trap the real killer.”

“Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you right now. I need you to trust me.”

She stopped herself from arguing that she was the one in jail, the one who had a right to know. Maybe this wasn’t just about giving her a name. It could be for her own protection. Or, even more likely, this was about them.

About her trusting him.

The whole town could doubt him, but she believed in him. More important, she wanted him to know she had faith in him. Too clearly, she remembered the young Zach Coulter coming to her father’s bank, humbling himself to try to get money to bury his mother. She had wanted to help him, but her father had stopped her. Now she had to show him that she trusted him.

“I can take this place. Don’t worry about me.” She sounded a lot more upbeat than she felt. “It’s dunking they’ll convict me that had me terrified. But if you’re sure I’ll be cleared, then waiting isn’t a problem. I trust you.”

“Good,” he said quietly.

She had hoped her response would encourage him to tell her more. Instead he kissed her, a light almost tentative kiss. Permitting herself to revel in the warmth of his powerful body, she savored the bittersweet ache radiating outward from her heart. So much had gone on between them, yet so little had ever been discussed. She broke off the kiss, searching for the words to express how she felt.

“Zach, about the other night—”

“Hush,” he said, brushing a wisp of hair back from her temple. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it matters to me—to us. I want to tell you what happened. I began to cry because I looked in the mirror and saw our reflection. Do you know what it reminded me of? Our parents.”

He pulled away, frowning, “Can’t we get beyond them?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, get over the past I’m living my own life, doing what I want to do. But I couldn’t help being upset because I looked in the mirror and saw my mother on top of your father, her head flung back. That’s the way I discovered they were having an affair. The image is seared into my brain like a brand. I remember the shock, then running straight to my father’s bank.”

Zach nodded, sympathy in his eyes. “You told him what you’d seen.”

She thought she could explain, she honestly did. Of course, she’d anticipated problems. The riveting memory never failed to evoke powerful emotions, but this confession was much more difficult than she’d expected.

“I killed them, Zach. If only I’d kept my mouth shut, they both would have lived. But I was so stunned. I didn’t stop to think.” She blinked back the tears burning in her eyes. “It’s my fault—”

“Have you blamed yourself all these years?”

“Yes. I should have kept my mouth shut and waited to talk to you.”

He put his arms around her again, pulling her close. “I wish you had. You don’t know how much I wish you had.”

The quiet anguish in his tone added to her feeling of guilt. “I knew you would blame me. I understand. I hate myself for what I—”

He cupped her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes. “No, Claire. I don’t blame you. If anything, I blame myself. I should have told you about the affair. I knew all about it.”

She had always suspected that he had known. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head. “You were so damn innocent, and I was the bad boy from the trailer park. I was crazy about you. I didn’t want to ruin your illusions about the perfect family by saying our parents had been carrying on for years.”

Years. The word staggered her. She gazed into Zach’s earnest face and saw how much he cared about her. Oh my God. He was telling the truth. What she’d thought of as a short fling had been much … more.

“They’d always loved each other, and your father knew it. When you confronted him, he was forced to do something. They chose to leave town. You can’t blame yourself for the automobile accident. Those things just happen.”

“All these years, my father’s acted as if—”

The door swung open. “Sorry, Sheriff, but the chief is on his way. He says the prisoner had better be in her cell, or he’ll fire me.”