Wyoming Tough - Diana Palmer [45]
“I need to tell you something. I don’t quite know how,” she said when they were resting for a minute with thermoses full of coffee while the cattle grazed in their new fenced area.
He pushed his hat back and wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. “Go ahead.”
She glanced around to make sure nobody was near enough to hear. “Joe Bascomb was at the line cabin,” she said.
“What? Good Lord, girl…!”
“He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t even really threaten me,” she said. “He was hungry, so I gave him a biscuit and some water. He’s in awful shape.”
He winced. “He was my friend. I don’t believe he could deliberately kill anybody.”
“Neither do I. He said that his attorney gave him up when he escaped.” She hesitated. “He said there was a relative of the dead man on the jury that convicted him. That should be grounds for a retrial, shouldn’t it?”
He glanced at her curiously. “That’s why you called the judge in Texas, isn’t it?”
She laughed ruefully. “Yes,” she admitted.
“What did he say?”
“That it should be grounds for a retrial. But Joe needs to turn himself in, and he needs a new attorney.”
“I’d pay for one myself if I could find anybody locally who’d agree to defend him. The dead man’s family is much loved here,” he added. “Nobody thinks the victim was a valuable member of society, but his family is powerful. Not many local attorneys want the stigma of defending his killer.”
“The judge might know somebody who’d do it pro bono,” she added.
“What did you do to talk him into that?” he exclaimed.
“I appealed to his sense of justice. He’s a very nice man. He came into the kitchen to compliment the cook on the food. Whoever thinks to do that at a party?” she added, having been to dozens where the food was taken for granted.
“He must be a nice man,” he agreed with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” He sobered. “But don’t you talk to Joe again, regardless of the circumstances. You get on your horse and leave. It’s dangerous, abetting an escaped criminal. I think he’s innocent, but the court judged him guilty.”
“And you’d ride away and refuse help, would you?” she asked placidly.
“Well, no, I wouldn’t. But I’m in a different situation than you are.” His eyes narrowed. “You work for us. So you do as we say. Got that?”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m not trying to be mean. I just want to keep you out of trouble, if I can. You’d better stay clear of Gelly, too,” he added. “She’s really got it in for you.”
“I’m not afraid of her.”
“You should be,” he replied. “Because Mallory believes the things she tells him. I don’t know why. He doesn’t even particularly like her. She just flatters his ego. He’s never had much luck with women wanting him for himself, and he’s easily swayed because of it. He thinks he’s ugly.”
“Ugly? Mallory?” she exclaimed. “Good heavens, he’s not ugly!”
He pursed his lips. “He’s not?”
She flushed and cleared her throat. “Well, I’d better get back to work. But I wanted you to know about Joe. I hope somebody can help him.”
“Me, too.”
She got on her horse and rode off, leaving Tank more puzzled than ever about her.
MALLORY WAS PREOCCUPIED. Gelly gave him a long, searching look while they ate salads at the local restaurant.
“You’re worried about something, aren’t you?” she asked, smiling.
He shrugged. “My brothers are falling over themselves to help our newest hire,” he muttered.
“That woman,” Gelly scoffed. She put down her fork. “Mal, she’s a con artist if I ever saw one! Why don’t you fire her?”
He finished his salad. “I’d be lynched,” he mused. “Everybody’s crazy about her. Even old Mavie, who hates most people.” It made him feel an odd sense of pride that the people who worked for him valued Morie. He didn’t know why.
Gelly’s blue eyes glittered. “She’s going to cause big trouble if you let her stay. You already told me what happened with your brothers when she started playing that piano. How did she learn, do you think? Maybe she played piano in a bar,” she suggested with just the right note of suspicion. “What do you