Justin's Bride

She tilted up her chin slightly. “She’s my cat. I can name her what I like.”

“Alice?”

“I’ve never liked those silly names like Boots or Snowball. I wanted to give her a real name. Something she could be proud of.”

He took a step closer. In the tiny office, that action left less than two feet between them. She tried to slow her breathing.

“She’s just a cat,” he said.

“I know, but...” Her words died in her throat when he reached toward her. Her body began to hum in anticipation. Her palms got sweaty and her blood heated. He was going to touch her, right here in her office where anyone could come in and—

He stretched his arm past her and picked up the kitten. “Good afternoon, Alice,” he said softly and stroked the animal under the chin. The kitten looked up at him, then started to purr. Her rumble seemed far too loud for a cat her size.

Megan abruptly sat in her chair. She understood exactly how Alice felt. If Justin had touched her, she would have purred as loudly. She’d told herself she could survive anything for a year. This was the second day of his stay and already she was in trouble. She had a bad feeling it was going to be a very long twelve months.

“I want to talk about the murder,” he said. His voice was still low and pleasant, but when she looked at his face she saw the tightness in his expression. “About a month ago a saloon girl was killed. What do you know about that?”

“Nothing. Why would I?”

He set the kitten on the desk. “Because someone who lived here for many years was brutally murdered. She didn’t die in her sleep or have an accident. Someone found her and beat her to death.”

Megan folded her arms in front of her and clutched at her waist. Justin’s anger was a tangible force in the room. It filled the small space and used up all the air until she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

“I’d heard—”

“Nothing. I know. Damn.” He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. Brown eyes bored into hers. “What is wrong with all you people? Why doesn’t anyone care about her? Why didn’t you want to know what happened?”

“I didn’t know her. Of course, I’m sorry she met with such an unfortunate fate, but there is no reason for me to know a saloon girl.”

“That makes her death all right with you.”

“No.” She grabbed the arms of her chair and glared at him. “Not at all. I wouldn’t want anyone to die like that.”

“Weren’t you concerned for yourself? Your safety?”

She drew her eyebrows together. “Why should I be? Someone who wanted her dead wouldn’t be interested in a respectable woman.”

Justin bent over her and placed his hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her fingers under his. His coat fell open, blocking her view of the rest of the room. His face was inches from hers. “How do you know?”

She wanted to get away, but squirming would be undignified. She refused to let him know how he was upsetting her. “The sheriff said her killer was just a drifter. There were several in town around that time. He said it was an argument over...services.” She could feel the heat on her cheeks.

“And no one cared.”

“You have no right to ask me these questions or to make me say these things.”

“Explain that to Laurie.”

“Who?”

“The dead girl. She had a name, you know.” His dark, angry eyes refused to release her. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. “She was just your age, Megan. Not much taller than you. Not nearly as pretty, though. But because she worked in a saloon and took money for what you offered me for free, it’s all right that she’s dead?”

“No!” She jerked her hands free and pushed at his chest. “I never offered you anything.” She banished the memory of their times by the stream. Nothing had happened.

But she’d wanted it to.

Justin straightened. Only then did she realize the door was open and that anyone could have overheard their conversation. She sent up a quick prayer, then rose and moved around him to close it.

“Keep your voice down,” she said quietly.

“Ah, yes. Your precious reputation.” He mocked her, then took her chair without asking. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, trapping her by the door.

She glanced at the desk. Alice had curled up on the order forms and had gone to sleep. The sight of the sweet kitten reminded her that Justin had brought her the cat as an apology for the harsh words he’d said yesterday. Here they were, arguing again.

She tugged at the waist of her dress, then looked at him. “You didn’t really expect me to know her, Justin. I’m sorry she’s dead. I’m sorry I don’t know anything, but you can’t blame me for her life or her death.”

He placed his hat on his lap. “I suppose not.” He thought for a minute. “Did anyone demand a more thorough investigation?”

“Not that I remember. Sheriff Roberts told everyone it was one of the drifters who had killed her.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “Justin, I’m sorry. He was the sheriff. Why wouldn’t he tell the truth?”

He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He dangled his hat from his hands. “I’m not saying he lied on purpose. I just wonder why he didn’t bother looking into the case further.”

“You think there was another killer?”

“I don’t know.”

He looked desolate. Megan had to hold herself back to keep from going to him. She wanted to touch him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. Except she didn’t know that to be true. And even if she did, Justin wouldn’t want comfort from her.

“Her name was Laurie,” he said.

“You told me.”

“Laurie Smith.”

Megan grabbed on to the door handle for support. She stared at his bent head, then watched as he looked up at her. She tried to school her features, but couldn’t. Heaven knew what he saw on her face. His dark eyes gave nothing away.

“So you remember.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “She was the one—” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

“The woman I was accused of beating seven years ago. Interesting, don’t you think?”

“She cleared your name.”

“So I heard.”