The man in front of her was young, well-built, and dark-haired, probably only a year or two older than Caroline. His face was strong, his gaze clear and direct. but he had the same shaggy eyebrows as the old Dr. Haskin she'd known, and the same comforting smile. She half-expected him to ask after Aunt Leah's health, before she remembered Leah wasn't her aunt anymore.
"D-Doc Haskin," she stammered, and he smiled briefly at her as they started up the stairs.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Miss Adeline. A year or two, at least. "
Try fifty, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. "Pete couldn't tell me much about your sister," he continued, and he was so blessedly calm she wanted to weep in relief at having someone there who knew what to do. "Has she gone into labor?"
"She's had the baby," Addie blurted out. "Stillborn. But no afterbirth."
"Has she retained all of it or just part?"
"I think all of it," she said, grasping the stair railing as she felt herself sway. Doc Haskin's steadying hand was on her shoulder.
"Why don't you go somewhere and rest?" he suggested gently. "I'll take care of her now."
Would it be deserting Caroline, not to go back to that room? Addie hesitated, her forehead creased with misery. She couldn't go back and face May's blank eyes any longer, or Caroline's suffering. She had to be somewhere quiet for a few minutes or go insane.
"Maybe I will rest a little while," she whispered. "Please see to Mama too. I'm worried about her."
"I will. And Miss Adeline… I'm sorry about your father."
Slowly Addie went down the steps, keeping hold of the railing. The sense of being small and ineffectual came over her, and she was too tired to fight it. A thirst welled up from inside, a desperate need to see Ben. He would hold her in his arms and let her lean on him as long as she needed. Only he could assure her that the world hadn't gone mad.
There was a murmur of voices from Russell's office.
Silently Addie drew closer to the half-closed door, her ears pricking at the mention of Russell's name. The voices belonged to Ben and Sam Dary, the sheriff, and one or two others she couldn't identify.
"… I agree," Ben was saying, his voice weary.
"No horse was used. Whoever did it was on foot, and possibly still is-"
"We have a coupla men out lookin'. He couldna gotten far. If he ain't in the bunkhouse. Most likely we're lookin' for one of your own, Ben."
"The boys swear they didn't notice anyone coming or going out all night. And we've got a lot of light sleepers in there."
"Robbie Keir swears he didn't see who hit him. You got any idea?"
"No. I was hit from behind as I went in the house."
"That is a puzzle," Dary murmured. "Someone who knew his way around the ranch, even the main house."
"It's possible it was someone who-
"Ben," Dary interrupted, and this time his voice was quieter, "it's time to git down to business. M' boys found some evidence in your cabin and in Mr. Warner's room. It's all pointin' in one direction."
"And what direction is that?" Ben asked softly. "Seems t' me you're hidin' somethin', Ben."
"The hell I am. I've given you the go-ahead to search the whole goddamn ranch, including the bunkhouse and my cabin. You're welcome to make use of anything you find."
"Then what d' you have t' ay 'bout Russ bein' strangled with one of the strings from your guitar?"
"What?" Ben sounded stunned.
"Yessir, it was a guitar string, an' it matches up with one rnissin' from the one in your cabin."
Addie could stand it no longer. She strode into the room. Ben was facing a half-circle formed by the sheriff and two other men. In two steps she reached Ben's side.
"That proves nothing," she said hotly. "Anyone could have taken it from his room. People swarm all over this ranch from sunup to sundown."
Ben stared down at her with silent warning. His expression was implacable, but his face was pale under his tan, the only indication of how the news had affected him. None of the rest moved or spoke, astonished by her interruption, appalled by her audacity in interfering with men's business. Sam Dary gathered his wits and made an effort to smile at her.
"Miss Adeline, we're all real sorry 'bout what happened to your pa. But we're fixin' to git to the bottom of all this, soon as we can. Now, why don't you run along an' don't worry your little head 'bout-"
"My head isn't little, and neither is my mind. And I have a valid interest in all this, considering the fact that it was my father who was murdered, and my fiance you're trying to-"
"Adeline," Ben said, his hand closing around her upper arm in a biting grip that belied his pleasant tone.
"The sheriff is only trying to get at the truth. We have no quarrel with that, do we?"
"But-" she started, and fell silent as his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Ben," Dary said, sounding almost apologetic, "she don't need to be here. Would you tell her to-"
"She won't be a problem." Ben gave Addie a meaningful glance. "In fact, you won't make another sound, will you, honey?"
"No," she said with sudden meekness, willing to promise anything as long as she was allowed to stay.
"Go on," Ben said calmly, turning to the sheriff.
"Just pretend she isn't here."
"Well, ah… well… oh, yes… " Dary fished in his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, opened it, and shook the contents into his palm. Addie drew closer, peering at the small object that had rolled out. It was a small, distinctively shaped shirt button, dull gray and metallic. A tiny pattern of scrolls was engraved on the steel surface.
"It's a button from one of my shirts," Ben said quietly.
"You sure?" Dary asked.
"I'm sure. They come from a small place in Chicago, where I had some shirts made a couple of years ago."
"It was found on the floor, right by the… " Dary paused and looked at Addie before finishing. "… by the bed. One of the shirts in your cabin was missin' a button, and the rest of 'ern were just this kind."
"He's being framed," Addie burst out. "Someone could have taken the button and put it by Russell to make it look like Ben-"
"Addie," Ben interrupted, and despite the seriousness of the situation, his mouth twitched with a faint smile. Although Addie had given a promise to keep quiet, there'd been no doubt in his mind she would break it.
"They know you're too smart to leave incriminating evidence behind," she persisted. "Especially your own guitar string! And how do they explain that lump on your head? Someone hit you pretty hard. They certainly can't think you did that to yourself. And besides, I heard someone leaving the house the moment I found Ben. Check around back-I know you'll find footprints there, and-"
"Possible he had a partner who turned on him," Dary commented laconically.
"That's absurd!" Addie exploded, and prepared to say more, but Ben interrupted her.
"One more word of your defense, darlin', and they'll probably take me out and hang me on the nearest tree. Why don't you go make some coffee?"
"I'm not leaving you," she said stubbornly.
"No need," Dary said, his forehead divided with a grave frown. "Only one more question, Ben. If the man who murdered Russ Warner was so quiet the folks in the house didn't wake up, how'd you know somethin' was wrong?"
Ben looked at him expressionlessly. "I had a feeling."
Addie trembled, wanting to cry out and defend him. It was me. I told him!
"Any way you c'n prove you were in your cabin at the time Russ was killed?"
"Yes," Addie said swiftly, knowing Ben would not implicate her even if it meant hanging for.it, She was the only one who could provide him with an alibi. "Just ask me. I was in his cabin with him. All night."