Art glanced down at the envelope in his hand, his brows creased with confusion. It was sealed. His raised an eyebrow at Minnie who said, "I've not read it, but I think I know what's in it. Go ahead and get it over with."
"Why don't you tell me what you believe is in it. I would prefer to hear the story from you first, if you don't mind."
"It's not going to matter." Her stark voice echoed in the small room.
"Humor me," Art answered in reply.
With a deep sigh, Minnie began, "My husband was murdered. No one has been arrested. The police suspect me but weren't able to prove it. The judge eventually ordered them to let me come back to Larkspur on the condition that I remain under the watchful eye of the local sheriff."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
****
Minnie, shocked by his words, lifted her eyes from where they had been examining her toes. No one had said that to her before. Everyone in San Francisco was aware of what a reprobate her husband had been. Art didn't know yet. If he did, he, too, would suspect her.
Hardening her heart against the disappointment she knew she'd see in his eyes, she said, "Thank you. Please read the letter now."
She watched as he opened the envelope with care and scanned the contents of the page within. He looked over the single page once, and she searched his eyes as they again went to the top of the page to read it a second time. Minnie steeled herself against the judgment she knew she'd see on his face.
Arty folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope, which he then tucked into a pocket on the inside of his vest behind where his shiny sheriff's badge was pinned. "So let me see if I understand this," he said, watching her closely. "Your husband was murdered. The police don't know yet who killed him. You are one of their suspects, but they have decided to let you return to Larkspur." When Minnie nodded, he went on, "I am to telegraph the detective each week and let him know that you remain here in Larkspur, and I am to telegraph him immediately if you ever leave the town without my knowledge or approval."
Minnie again nodded.
"It's a bit unorthodox, Minnie, but it was good of them to let you return home." She didn't understand. He was supposed to be suspicious, scandalized, or at least offended by her presence in his town. Then, hitting her with one of the questions she'd dreaded, he asked, "Why are you so afraid?"
How could she explain it to him? What could she say that would not further implicate her in William's death? Did she even know if she could trust him? Hoping he would be satisfied, she said, "If word of this gets out, my father's career could be ruined. I don't want my shame to paint a black mark across the lives of my family and friends. They don't deserve that."
****
Art watched her closely, wishing she'd say more. When she didn't, he gave her a single nod. "I'll telegraph Detective Wilcox and let him know you've arrived and that I've received the letter. In the meantime, I'll be needing to keep an eye on you. While it might not be the best way to go about it, I think I'm going to be coming by a couple evenings each week."
Minnie's eyes widened.
"We won't call it courting, but that's what people will think." Silence met his remark. "It's the only way that we'll be able to have private conversations, and I have a feeling that we'll need to be having more than a few of those in the coming weeks. Unless you have a better idea that will allow me to keep tabs on you while not alerting the town to what's going on?"
"I'm still in mourning," she said.
"That you are." He contemplated the situation and the woman sitting on the cot before saying, "It'll no doubt get a few tongues to wagging, but that kind of gossip has to be better than the alternative, don't you think?"
Minnie's face told him she felt backed into a corner. She acquiesced, but the stubborn tilt of her chin declared her true feelings. "It's been five months since he died. I suppose that will play in my favor with the townsfolk. I'm going to continue to dress in mourning, and that's not open for discussion."
"Maybe something grey instead of black all the time?"
Sadness shadowing her face, Minnie said, "We'll see."
"In that case," Arty said, standing from his chair and setting his hat back onto his head, "I believe it's time for me to smuggle you out of here so that you can go say hello to your parents."
Minnie's eyes toured the small room. "Where are my shoes?"
Recapturing that folksy tone he'd first used with her, Art said, "Well, Miss Minnie, let me tell you how it is. You done stepped in some dung, and it smelled something awful. So I left your shoes out on the back porch." He kept the smile to himself as he watched the delicate blush climb up Minnie's porcelain neck and cheeks.