Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [110]
“Which one is that?” She inched closer. “Oh, the bank robbery. That’s a good one.”
Georgie folded the paper. “You know, Bettina, after looking these over, I’m beginning to wonder just what it is that’s so appealing about Mr. Comer.”
“What do you mean?” She dug around in her ear.
Georgie grasped her wrist and pulled, giving a gentle shake of her head. “I mean, he preys on the unsuspecting and takes things which aren’t his and has even been rumored to kill people.”
“Only lawmen.” She wiped her finger on her dress. “He ain’t never killed no real people.”
“Lawmen are real people. Many of them have wives and children. Brothers and sisters. Mamas and daddies. Why, look at Sheriff Nussbaum. What would you think if Comer killed our sheriff?”
Bettina laughed. “Aw, he wouldn’t do that. Not to Nussbaum.”
She slowly straightened. “Does the sheriff know Frank Comer?”
The girl’s eyes darted to the window, then back to Georgie. “Well, I wouldn’t know nothin’ about that. What I meant was, Nussbaum don’t think ill o’ Frank any more than you or I do. So Comer pro’bly wouldn’t do nothin’ to him.”
“But that’s just it. I am beginning to think ill of Mr. Comer.” She patted the papers on her lap. “There are accounts in here of him robbing banks, stagecoaches, trains, and all sorts of things. I just don’t see what there is to admire about that.”
“He don’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“What he’s doing is selfish and harmful to others, and it’s against the law. And I, for one, am through being sympathetic toward him.”
Bettina scratched her head, loosening her braids. “You’re just sore about them hats.”
“I am. I’m not only sore, I’m furious. How dare those men do that. Think of all the women who worked so hard on their entries.”
“But that’s just it.” Her eyes lit up. “It worked out even better. If he hadn’t burnt ’em all up, none of them other women would’ve signed yer pledge and brought in all them entries. You made bunches o’ money fer them bird folks up north. You oughta be thanking Frank. He done did you a favor.”
Georgie held on to her patience. “I know I told you I thought Mr. Comer was there that night, but now I’m not so sure. Still, that’s beside the point. The point is, they didn’t do me any favors, Bettina. They tied me up and burned my hats.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Well, if’n you don’t think it was Frank, then how come yer all mad at him?”
Ding.
“Never mind. We’ll talk about this later.” She slipped on the earpiece. Before the call was over, Bettina had sidled out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Luke rode clear to Industry to mail his report. He couldn’t send it directly to his captain or even the headquarters in Alice. So he posted it to a contact in Bentonville who’d make sure it was delivered.
Prysborski’s death was no hunting accident. When Luke had gone out to Ragston’s Saturday to check on his phone, he’d been told there wasn’t a thing wrong with the service. Ragston just wanted him to join a poker game between himself, Necker, Duane, Blesinger, and Finkel.
Luke had excused himself to check the lines anyway, just so he wouldn’t have to lie to Georgie, and ended up cleaning off a bit of Spanish moss. Upon his return, the boys’ voices filtered through the windows in soft, urgent tones.
Without making a sound, Luke had eased up to the house and crouched beneath the kitchen window. A row of hedges would block him from view should anyone wander by.
“Prysborski’s heart wasn’t in the last job or the one a’fore that.” Ragston’s voice. “Had he been one o’ the ones Landrum had caught, we’d all be in jail.”
“But did you haf to kill him?” Finkel asked.
“Better that than the lot of us rotting in some cell.”
“I just don’t know why Frank didn’t say nothin’ to me.” Necker’s voice.
“What’d you expect?” Ragston asked, his inflection filled with disgust. “He sent ya to strip them gals’ float and ya ended up terrorizing the town operator and burnin’ hats the whole county had a hand in making.”
“That was Duane’s idea.”
“Since when you takin’ orders from a kid?”
“Hey—” Duane’s voice. “I ain’t no kid.