Brodie's Gamble Page 3

  Brodie stood, pacing toward the cells, trying to sort out what Maggie revealed. She’d been wronged, kidnapped, and forced to live with a man as his wife. He could understand the rage she must feel, the need to seek revenge and get away. Did that rage include murder? Turning back to her, his features dispassionate, he sat back down, leaning close.

  “Tell me. Why do you think you killed him?”

  “I hit him on the head. He fell to the floor and didn’t move.”

  “Did you check to see if he was still breathing, if he had a pulse?” Brodie rested his arms on his knees, his gaze never wavering from her face.

  “I didn’t want to get too close. If he was alive, I knew my life wouldn’t be worth as much as your stale coffee.” Her face colored. “No offense, Sheriff.”

  “None taken.” Brodie chuckled, acknowledging the quality of the lukewarm brew. “So you left.”

  “As fast as I could and came here. It took a bit of time since we live so far back in the hills.” She stood. “Do you need to arrest me?”

  Putting his hands on his knees, Brodie pushed up from the chair, his face softening. “No, Mrs. Stoddard. Not until we learn if you really did kill your husband.”

  “You want me to go back to the cabin?” The shocked look in her eyes spoke louder than any words. “I can’t.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Mrs. Stoddard.”

  “It’s Maggie King, and why don’t I have a choice?”

  He sighed. “Because you confessed to possibly killing your husband and I have to find out if you did.”

  “He’s not my husband,” she ground out, frustration now warring with fear. “He kidnapped me, made me do things…” Her voice cracked. She squeezed her eyes shut, covering her mouth with her hand.

  No matter her tale or how much he wanted to believe she hadn’t killed him, Brodie had a job to do. Ignoring her outburst, he continued. “He may have just been knocked out. By the time we arrive, I wouldn’t be surprised if Arnie is long gone. You need to show me where the cabin is located, and I’d rather you do it willingly.”

  “How about Colin and I go along?” Sarah suggested.

  “Nae,” both men said simultaneously.

  “You’ll not be going this time, Sarah. I’ll ride along in case Brodie needs help.”

  “But Colin—”

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, Colin pulled her close. “There’ll be no arguing on this. We don’t know what happened and I’ll not put you in danger. We’ll get this done, then meet you at the hotel for supper.” He kissed her temple.

  Her eyes sparked as she pushed him away. “You’ll not be treating me like a child, Colin MacLaren. I can ride and shoot as well as anyone.”

  Colin and Brodie laughed at her overblown boast.

  “Sarah, lass, you can ride and shoot a gun. It’s your aim we question.” Flashing her a cocky grin, Colin turned to Brodie. “You ready?”

  Brodie glanced at Maggie, seeing rage and fear in her eyes. He hoped she’d give him no trouble.

  “Come on, Mrs. Stoddard. It’s time we discover if you really did kill your husband.”

  Maggie’s stomach churned the entire ride to the cabin. She didn’t have a horse, so Brodie had settled her in front of him, an arm holding her tight to his chest. It wasn’t the closeness she minded. His warm body helped protect her from the chilling winds whipping through the trees. What bothered her was the way her body responded to being held so close, almost intimately, against him.

  And the way he continued to call her Mrs. Stoddard.

  “Do we continue on this trail?” Brodie’s warm breath caressed her neck. He should be ashamed, knowing quite well what he was doing, but couldn’t seem to muster any guilt at the way her body trembled against his. She probably wasn’t even aware of her effect on him or how much he enjoyed it.

  “About another mile, then the trail narrows as we get closer to the cabin.” Adjusting herself in front of him, she heard Brodie groan. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  Brodie gritted his teeth, pulling her tight to stop her from squirming. Maggie’s voice held no trace of mockery, and he realized she had no idea how his body had responded to her slight movement.

  He sucked in a breath. “No. I’m fine.” It had been a stupid idea to have her ride in front of him. He told himself the decision saved time by not having to locate and saddle a horse for her. Feeling moisture building along his brow, Brodie acknowledged the real reason. He’d been fascinated by her from the moment she’d stormed into the jail.

  The mere presence of a woman had never affected him the way Maggie did. No matter how much he pondered the reason, he couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer. Yes, even with her disheveled appearance, she was pretty—beautiful in fact. The ordeal she’d been through, the fear he saw on her face, enraged him. Her determination to report what happened, even if it meant going to jail, moved him in a way he couldn’t define. He’d never met a woman who seemed so innocent, so full of contradictions. Perhaps his attraction was pure fascination and nothing more.

  “There.” Maggie pointed to a rundown cabin hidden in the trees ahead.

  Colin arrived first, dismounted, then drew his gun. A moment later, he helped Maggie to the ground and waited for Brodie.

  “Show us where you left him.” Brodie stepped toward the open door, then stopped as he glanced around the interior.

  Maggie moved in front of him, then drew back, a hand coming to her throat.

  “He’s gone.” Turning in a circle, she scanned the room. “He was right there.” She pointed to a spot close to the fireplace.

  Kneeling down, Brodie touched an almost dry stain on the floor. Rubbing it between his fingers, he glanced up at Colin. “Appears to be blood.”

  Colin continued to search, finding nothing. “If he were bleeding, he would’ve left a trail. I don’t find anything.”

  “Let’s take a look outside.” Brodie led the way to the back of the cabin, searching the bushes, around the woodpile, and inside a poorly maintained stable. Pushing his hat back on his head, he furrowed his brows. “You probably knocked him out. Once he regained consciousness, he got on his horse and rode out.”

  Maggie nodded, hoping it were true, believing she couldn’t be that lucky.

  “Brodie,” Colin called from behind the stable. “There’s something you need to see.”

  Maggie followed, stopping when she saw what appeared to be a shallow grave.

  Colin picked up a handful of dirt, letting it fall through his fingers. “Fresh. My guess is it’s a few hours old. If it were longer, there’d be a crust on top from last night’s drizzle, and possibly animal markings.”

  Brodie’s blood went cold at the discovery. He’d hoped whatever they found would clear Maggie. The mound of dirt before him didn’t bode well for her.

  “I’ll get a shovel.” Brodie continued to survey the area as he walked back to the stable.

  “Get two, Brodie. I’ll look for a blanket.”

  Maggie continued to stare at the mound of dirt. It hadn’t been there when she fled and ran toward Conviction, leaving Arnie’s crumpled body on the floor of the cabin.

  Weeks ago, after a fight with Arnie, his younger brother, Joel, had ridden off. She didn’t want to think about the reason for their fight, knowing he’d left because of her. Arnie would’ve killed him if he’d stayed. After Joel left, Arnie sent their middle brother, Syd, to San Francisco. He hadn’t returned.

  “You’ll need to step away.”

  Maggie startled at Brodie’s voice, his appearance pulling her from thoughts of Joel and Syd. Without a word, she moved several feet away, watching as the two men began to dig. It didn’t take long before they spotted clothing, the body lying face down. She stifled a gasp, her body going still when she recognized the shirt Arnie had been wearing.

  “Do you recognize him?” Brodie asked, seeing her ashen expression.

  “It’s Arnie.” She backed away, shaking her head, glancing bet
ween Brodie and Colin. “He was in the cabin when I left. How could he be here? I don’t understand.”

  Brodie didn’t know what to make of her claim of possibly killing Arnie, then finding his body buried behind the stable. Kneeling down, he brushed away more dirt before his gaze caught sight of a wound on the back of his head where Maggie had landed her blow. Turning the body over, he sucked in a breath.

  “Colin. Take a look at this.”

  Bending down, Colin stared at Arnie’s face, which was bludgeoned beyond recognition.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Brodie confirmed Maggie hadn’t tried to get away. He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind as she looked at the body of the man who’d caused her so much pain. A man she may have murdered.

  Brodie stood, brushing dirt from his pants, then his hands.

  “How many times did you say you hit your husband?” he asked Maggie as he moved toward her.

  “He was not my husband,” Maggie hissed, then calmed herself, knowing getting angry with the sheriff wouldn’t help her at all. “Once, on the back of his head.”

  “You didn’t hit him anywhere else?”

  She tried to glance around him at the body, but he blocked her view.

  “No, it was once. I’m certain of that.”

  “What did you use?”

  “The first thing I could pick up—my iron skillet. I don’t understand, Sheriff. Are you saying he was hit more than once?”

  “I’ll look inside for the skillet, Brodie.” Colin gave him a meaningful glance as he left them alone.

  Maggie watched him walk away, fear gripping her.

  Brodie crossed his arms and studied Maggie, waiting until she swung her gaze back to his.

  “We’re going to take the body to town for the doctor to examine, then you’re going to tell me again what happened this morning.”

  “But, I—”

  Brodie held up a hand to stop her at the same time Colin walked toward them, an iron skillet in his hand.

  Brodie’s steely gaze bored into hers as he pulled a set of handcuffs from a pocket. “Marguerite King Stoddard, I’m placing you under arrest for killing your husband, Arnold Stoddard.”

  “Wait.” She shot a look at Arnie’s body, her stomach roiling at a face so smashed no one would be able to recognize him. She tried to twist away as Brodie grasped her arm. “I hit him on the back of the head, not his face.”

  “We’ll talk about it in town,” Brodie answered.

  “No.” She ripped her arm from his hand, then walked to the shallow grave and pointed. “I didn’t do that to him. I hit him once and he dropped to the ground. We were inside the cabin, not outside.”

  “Enough. You’ll have your time before a judge.” Brodie gripped her tighter this time. “I don’t want to hear any more lies, Mrs. Stoddard. No matter what he did to you, I’ll expect the truth about how he died.”

  “I came to you, told you what I did. I didn’t do what you see there.” Panic rose as tears welled in her eyes. “You have to believe me.”

  Yanking her around to face him, he grasped her shoulders. “I don’t need to believe anything, Mrs. Stoddard. You’re the one who’ll have to tell a judge and convince a jury. Until then, you’ll be a guest in my jail.”

  Chapter Three

  “Are you sure about this, Brodie?” Colin lowered himself into a chair as Brodie walked in from locking the cell door behind Maggie.

  Tossing the keys on his desk, he let out a heavy sigh. “What would you have me do, Colin? She admitted hitting him, thought she’d killed him.”

  “Aye, she admitted hitting him on the back of the head. Do you think she bludgeoned him, dragged him outside, and buried him?”

  Removing his hat, Brodie ran a hand through his hair. It had taken both of them to carry the body into the doctor’s office so he could provide his opinion on the man’s death and check for other wounds. Brodie guessed the man had been a little under six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds. About five-foot-five and whisper thin, he’d be surprised if Maggie weighed more than a hundred twenty—much too small to carry Stoddard outside. Although he hadn’t studied the area as he should’ve, there was no indication Arnie had been dragged from the cabin.

  “I don’t know and it’s not my job to decide. She’ll get a trial when the judge comes to town. The jury will determine her fate, not me.” As much as he believed what he said, he also knew another trip to the cabin was needed to discover what had been missed.

  “When is the judge expected?”

  “A few more weeks.” Sitting down, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I could take her to San Francisco for trial, but I’ve no one to keep watch on the town while I’m gone.” Strumming his fingers on the desk, he looked past Colin when the door opened.

  “I heard you arrested a woman, Sheriff.” Jack strolled inside, shutting the door and taking a seat as if he were an actual deputy.

  “Don’t you have work to do somewhere else, Jack?” Exhaustion forced Brodie’s patience to a thin line.

  “Nope. Thought I’d help you out. You know, like watch the prisoner while you have supper.”

  “A wonderful idea, lad.” Colin stood, ignoring Brodie’s fierce expression. “Sarah is expecting us for supper. It will be good for you to get out of here for a while.”

  “He’s right, Sheriff.” Jack flashed him a smile.

  Brodie sent each an exasperated glare. “You don’t go anywhere while I’m gone, Jack. Don’t go back to the cell to talk to her, and do not, under any circumstances, unlock the cell. I’ll bring her supper when I return. Do you understand?”

  Jack almost danced with excited energy. “I sure do, Sheriff. I’ll stay right here at the desk until you get back. You can count on me.”

  Slamming his hat down on his head, Brodie walked toward the door. “Don’t let me down, or this will be your first and last day sitting at that desk.”

  Slapping Brodie on the back, Colin chuckled as they crossed the street. “So is this what you expected when you took the job?”

  “Hell no. Drunks, an occasional theft or mischievous prank, saloon brawls, certainly cattle rustling. A woman murdering her husband never crossed my mind.”

  “According to her, she wasn’t married to Stoddard, not legally anyway.” Colin sobered as he thought through what he knew. “A good lawyer could weave a tale of her being justified in getting away by any means necessary. Being kidnapped, held as a prisoner, and beaten wouldn’t sit well with people around here. Do you know of a good lawyer in Conviction? Someone who’s defended someone for murder and not just public drunkenness?”

  “No. It appears I’d better start looking.” As the sheriff, he couldn’t do much to help her, other than gather all the evidence he could find and locate a decent lawyer. The rest would be up to her.

  Brodie opened the door of the restaurant, seeing an anxious Sarah perched on the edge of her chair. A broad smile flashed across her face when she spotted them. “The lass is glad to have you back, Colin, although I don’t know why.” For the first time all day, he relaxed. The peaceful moment didn’t last long.

  Waiting until they took their seats, Sarah speared Brodie with an icy glare.

  “I hear you arrested that poor girl for killing the man who kidnapped and forced himself on her.”

  “Can we let Brodie eat before rounding on him, lass? It’s not been a good day for him, either.” Colin leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek.

  “Not a good day? Maggie King is sitting in a cell for doing what was right, and Brodie is sitting in a nice restaurant.” Sarah sucked in a breath, then let it out in a slow whoosh, sending Brodie a conciliatory look. “I know you must do your job, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “Aye, you don’t have to like it, and neither do I. You and Colin were both there when she confessed. I’ve no choice now that we found a body.” He nodded when the server arrived with two whiskeys for Colin and him, and a switchel for Sarah.

  Stirring her
drink made of water, vinegar, honey, and ginger, she took a sip and smiled. “I would ride all the way to town just to get a glass of this.”

  “Not drinking whiskey tonight, Sarah?” Brodie asked, nodding toward her glass. “I’ve never known you to pass up a whiskey when you’re off the ranch.”

  Colin picked up Sarah’s hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. She nodded at his unasked question.

  “We have news.” Colin settled her hand in his lap, waiting for Brodie to respond.

  Brodie’s hand stilled as he glanced between the two. “What news?”

  “Sarah is with child.” Colin’s broad smile lit his face.

  His eyes widening, Brodie stood, walked around the table, and leaned down to kiss Sarah on the cheek, then clasped Colin on the shoulder.

  “It is not just news. It’s magnificent news. I’m certain the family is excited.”

  Colin shook his head. “We came to town to see the doctor and make sure what Sarah thought was true. We’ve yet to tell the family.”

  Sitting back down, Brodie picked up his glass for a toast. “Then I’m honored to be the first to know.” After being almost shunned for weeks by his family, Brodie couldn’t explain what it meant for him to be the first to learn they were having a baby. “To Sarah, Colin, and the wee bairn.”

  Sarah blushed as she took a sip of her drink.

  “The doctor told you not to drink whiskey?” Brodie asked, setting his glass down.

  “Nae.” Sarah shook her head. “He said an occasional sherry or wine could be medicinal. The man was not so approving of whiskey. I don’t much like sherry or wine so…”

  “You drink it when Kyla pours you a glass.”

  “Aye, Brodie. To be polite. And don’t you be telling Kyla that or there’ll be hell to pay.” Sarah sent him a withering glare. She loved Colin’s mother and never wanted to hurt her feelings.

  “You know Ma wouldn’t care if you told her. Maybe it’s time you confess about the sherry.” Colin leaned back as the server set down their meals of sliced beef, roasted potatoes, beans, and biscuits.