Millie was beyond scared and on to livid when Jacob came over to the church and explained what had happened at the jail. She wasn’t worried about herself, but Tate. Was her sister really dead—or still hiding somewhere and Curtis was trying to flush Darcie out by bringing Millie and Tate back to St. Louis? She strongly suspected the latter and was determined to prove it. She was ready to shoot, both barrels of questions and red temper by the time she swung open the jail door, knocking the door knob straight into Dagmar’s…thigh since he was so tall.
“I want to see that warrant, Marshal Wilerson.” Millie thrust her hand out, ignoring Curtis getting up from his chair.
“You’re under arrest, Millie Donovan for the murder of…”
“Oh, shut up Curtis. I’m reading.”
Robbins started to grab her arm, but thought better of it when five men took a step closer.
“Marshal Wilerson, have you checked with the St. Louis Police Department to be sure this is on their records, and not a forged document?”
Adam didn’t get a chance to answer before Curtis quickly interjected, “He doesn’t need to wire the department because it is real.”
“What was the cause of death then?”
“Uh, blunt force of an object.”
“Where did it happen?”
“At home.”
“Were there any witnesses?”
“No.”
“Wasn’t there someone helping her with your infant son?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it was me?”
“Uh, a neighbor saw you leave the house and notified me.”
“Where were you when this happened, and why weren’t you there helping take care of your new son?”
“I had things to do so I had to leave for a while.”
Millie paused with her rapid questions, giving Curtis time to think he had proved his accusation. Then she turned on the tears…
“Did you bury her in her favorite blue dress?” she whispered, shocking all six men with her turn of questions.
“Uh…”
“Were there many friends and neighbors at the wake at your home?”
“Uh…”
“Was it Father Devin or Father Tim who conducted the ceremony at the Cathedral?”
“Uh, Father Tim.”
“Marshal Wilerson, be sure to wire to the Cathedral of St. Louis office for the record of Darcie’s service and internment, besides the police department. There would also be a notice in the newspaper of her death, because I’m sure Curtis would have done everything proper for his beloved wife.”
Curtis was losing traction and she wanted to finish nailing his case shut. “How did my father handle his daughter’s death?”
He stared at Millie, knowing he didn’t have a case against her, because no way would Ennis Donovan miss his daughter’s funeral. Curtis lunged at Millie, getting both hands around her neck and getting one hard squeeze in, making Millie drop to her knees before the men wrestled Curtis to the floor.
“Millie…” Adam tried to help Millie off the floor, but she slapped his hand away and crawled up to Curtis’s face which was smashed against the wooden floor.
“I helped deliver your baby girl into the world after you kicked Darcie out of your bedroom, and her name is Amelia Moran.”
Curtis’ shocked look pleased Millie, because it meant that he hadn’t found Darcie. “So, you haven’t seen that child yet…and you never will. And you have no right to Tate either, because I have a signed and notarized paper stating that I am Tate’s guardian now. This was filled out when Darcie filed her divorce papers against you…which I bet you’ve already been served. You thought you could kidnap us, and get Darcie to drop the divorce and come back to you to continue as your punching bag.”
Millie gathered up her skirt to stand and straightened her shoulders. She looked at Curtis first, and then Adam. “Never, ever, under estimate a policeman’s daughter.” She spun on her heel to march out of there before she really blew her curls, but she turned back for one shout, “…or any angry woman for that matter.”