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* * *
Lucille and Irene sat on the couch huddled together waiting for Leonard’s return. Irene was into her third glass brandy and feeling much better than she had upon her arrival.
“I’m sorry to have woken you both,” Irene said with a hiccup, brandy splashing over the side of her glass as she moved her hand through the air.
“You have no reason to be,” Lucille said and meant it. “You’re the best friend I’ve got, and I’ve no intention of letting anything happen to you. You’ve always taken care of me when I needed it, I’m only happy that I can help you now.”
Irene nodded. “I suppose there’s at least one or two good things about being married to a sheriff’s deputy,” Irene said. “I have to admit, I had my doubts at first—”
“You thought I was mad,” Lucille interrupted her.
“Yes. That’s about right. Now, though, it seems to have made sense.”
Lucille hesitated. “I didn’t just marry Leonard because it made sense,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that even before I saw his ad for a mail order bride in that paper, I always liked Leonard. I always cared for him. I think you know that.”
“I do, but you did not marry him until Marshal Decker caught onto your trail.”
“He never asked me before then,” she said. “In fact, he never asked me at all. He placed that silly ad instead, and it was left to me to work things out. Had I not answered him, who knows who he would have ended up with.”
“Certainly no one as good as you,” Irene said, and Lucille accepted the compliment.
Lucille looked at her friend with soft eyes. “I really do love him you know.”
Irene smiled softly back at her. “I know,” she said.
The door to the house opened just then and Leonard came into the room. He shut the door behind him with a thud and looked at the two of them on the couch, his face a mask of fatigue and irritation.
“What happened?” Lucille asked, jumping up and going to him. She put her arms around him, not even thinking about it, only wanting to be close to him. Her body moved instinctively to bring him nearer to her, her fingers digging into the back of his spine, her mouth reaching for his. He pushed her away. Not hard, but hard enough for her to know he was not just playing.
His eyes moved from her face to Irene’s and back again.
“Did you catch them?” Irene asked hopefully.
Leonard stared at her with a cold expression. “No,” he said and moved further into the room.
“Leonard,” Lucille said going after him, frustrated by his silence. “Tell us what happened. Do not make us beg for details. Did you find out anything?”
“Nothing,” he said and poured himself a brandy.
Lucille exchanged a look with Irene. She did not at all care for the way Leonard was behaving just now. Why brandy at this hour when he rarely drank? Why the dead expression on his face when he spoke to them? He seemed to be having a difficult time even looking at her.
“Leonard,” Lucille said, trying again. She made her voice understanding and sweet, not wanting to irritate him more by showing her own frustrations. “Please tell us what you and Amos discovered.”
“I’ve already told you,” he snapped. “Nothing. There was a broken window, no more.” He swallowed his brandy back and poured himself another.
“Amos did go with you, didn’t he?” Irene ventured.
He nodded. “We need you to tell us if anything is missing.”
“I don’t know. I ran out of there so fast. Shall I go back and look? Is it important?”
“Probably not,” he said. “Even if you tell us something was stolen, we’ll have no way to verify whether or not you’re speaking the truth. Take a look tomorrow. When your husband returns home he can look as well. Perhaps with his word attached to yours it will have a bit more weight.”
Irene and Lucille looked at each other, Irene’s face drawn tightly together. “I...” she said and lost her voice.
Lucille, however, found hers. “What has gotten into you?” she demanded. “Do you not hear yourself? You’ve just called Irene a liar.”
“I know what I said,” he replied and turned to face her. Animosity showed plainly on his face, and Lucille realized that what she’d mistaken for frustration and fatigue was actually anger.
“You have no cause to speak to Irene that way,” Lucille said, refusing to back down even though she began to feel alarmed by the look he was giving her.
“I have every cause,” he said. He turned and looked again at Irene. “I found your money,” he said. “You shall be happy to know it has not been touched.”
Irene’s face paled. “My... money?” she asked.
“Hundreds, twenties, fives... quite a variety of bills from what I could see,” he said through tight lips. “Though I admit I didn’t have enough time to count it all up for you, it was a lot. The only other time I’ve seen so much cash on hand was in my wife’s suitcase.”
Lucille’s mouth dropped open slightly and she glared at him. “What were you doing in my suitcase?” she said, her voice rising even though she knew she had no cause to be angry at him when she was the one with all the secrets.
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay out of there,” he said. “There was no sign on the suitcase telling me to keep out, you see. Had you placed one on the outside of it, perhaps I might have known better. As it was, I saw you going in there one night when you thought I was asleep and figured I’d better take a look on my own time.”
“Leonard,” Lucille said, her breath hitching in her throat, “I can explain.”
“Certainly you can,” he said. “You can always explain, can’t you? You’ll tell me anything I want to hear so long as it’s not the truth.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucille said, feeling her desperation growing. “I’ve always been honest with you about everything.”
“You’ve been honest with me about nothing,” he retorted.
“I swear to you I don’t know what—”
He slammed his fist into the wall, making it shake. “Do not tell me yet again that you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, or it shall make my head explode. I am not just a sheriff’s deputy, I am your husband. Either tell me the truth now or leave here forever. I am sick of your lies.”
Irene’s hands were shaking, the calming effects of the brandy long worn off. Lucille’s own hands began to shake as well. “What is it you want to know?” she asked, the words barely escaping her throat.
He hesitated for only a second, his face red and pinched. His eyes were dark and watery. “Are you part of the Beauty Bandits? Is that where all the money’s from?”
She blinked and looked at Irene, who could only bite her bottom lip and shrug. After a moment, she nodded her head ever so slightly.
Lucille drew in a deep breath. “I am,” she said and let it out. Leonard let out a gasp. “But Irene has nothing to do with any of it,” she continued quickly.
Leonard shot a disbelieving look at Irene. “I thought you were finally going to be honest with me,” he said and turned his back to them. “Leave.”
Irene stood up. “I am as well,” she said. “You were right.”
He turned back to her. “Does Dr. Harcourt know?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Leonard, please,” Lucille said, going to him. She touched his shoulder and he pulled away, stepping out of her reach. “I love you,” she told him. “That was no lie.”
“How can I believe anything you say to me now?” he asked her.
“Because you know me. Even before we were married, you knew me better than anyone. I’ve shared things with you... things that I’ve never shared with anyone before you.” She blushed, thinking of the intimate moments they’d shared in bed, the warmth of his breath as it blew against her bare skin.
Leonard looked at her and could only shake his head.
“I know it seems bad,” Lucille said, “but I swear to you that we’ve never killed anyone. We’ve never even hurt anyone. That gang the papers have been writing about isn’t us. They’re only impersonating us.”
He licked his lips. “I suspected as much,” he said, the words coming out in a croak. It didn’t matter; they made Lucille happy to hear them.
“We’ve only ever taken from the rich,” Lucille went on.
Irene joined her now. “That’s right,” she said. “And we give away almost everything we earn to those less fortunate.”
“Earn?” Leonard asked, a look of horror on his face. “You earn none of it. You steal it. They are not one and the same.”
Lucille’s temper began to flare now. “Do not speak of us as common thieves,” she said and felt Irene’s hand on her shoulder, drawing her back. It was her attempt at telling Lucille to calm down. Lucille shook her off. “The last train we robbed enabled us to save half a dozen farmers from losing their homes. The money we gave to them came from rich bankers and politicians who stole it from them in the first place.”
“Rich bankers and politicians do not steal from people,” he said.
“Do not be so naïve. A farming family works their land every day, building their home and taking care of it, loving it all as a part of their family. Then a banker comes and tells them they can no longer live in the house they built with their own hands or till the land they’ve worked every day for a decade. That none of it is really theirs because they ran into a patch of bad luck and missed some payments. Is that not theft? Taking that land and that home? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you think the bankers are in the right?”
Leonard looked her in the eye and said nothing.
Irene hovered nervously about. “D-Do you want me to leave?” she asked. Whether she was talking to her or Leonard, Lucille wasn’t sure.
Leonard held his breath a moment then said, “No. Your husband’s not home, and no matter what you’ve done, I do not believe you deserve to be placed in danger. You both take the bed, I shall sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Thank you,” Irene said, looking relieved.
“I’d like to talk to you some more about this,” Lucille said.
Leonard looked at her, and this time he really did look exhausted. “Not now,” he said, his throat scratchy. “I must think.”
Lucille’s heart pounded. “What about?” she asked, breathless.
“About all of this,” he said. “About whether or not I wish to stay married to you.”
Her breath ran out of her chest and she felt her body gasp for air as though she were drowning. “You cannot leave me,” she said and felt Irene’s hand on her shoulder once again.
“I cannot bear to look at you right now either. Please, go to bed and leave me be.”
“Come on,” Irene said softly. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”
Lucille allowed herself to be led into the bedroom, hardly aware of what was happening. Her greatest fear used to be getting caught by Marshal Decker and going to jail. Now, she realized, the only thing she was afraid of was losing Leonard.
* * *
