Chapter 19 #2
“I made sure to dot every I and cross every T because I knew my brother well,” Quentin crowed. “He was a gambler and a charlatan, and a veritable king of the double cross. He made a small fortune out of cheating people, and I don’t just mean at poker.”
“His claim can’t have merit,” Charlotte whispered.
“If this is legitimate—” the attorney began.
“Of course, it’s legitimate,” the odious little man declared. “It’s duly witnessed as required by law.”
“If this turns out to be true,” the lawyer reiterated, “it appears Fenton Sneed signed over the Red Eye and all its contents to one Quentin Sneed. It’s dated last month and would therefore supersede a previously enacted title.”
“But how can he gamble away what is mine?”
“You’re a woman,” Sneed said dismissively. “Easily manipulated, which is why you have no place in business.”
“You’re wrong,” Charlotte protested. “The Red Eye is successful, in no small part due to me. Which is why Fenton trusted me to manage things when he was away.”
“You mean when he was in New Orleans gambling away the roof over your head?” he chortled, gleeful over his apparent victory.
Then his eyes narrowed on her. “Despite your rudeness, there’s a place for you in my employ.
But not as a madam. Once word gets out that the incomparable Miss Charlotte’s cunt is for sale, we’ll have a line around the block. ”
“Now, see here!” Mr. Bennett exclaimed.
At the same time, a searing anger coursed through Charlotte. Fed up with being insulted and scorned, and now possibly cheated, she reacted instinctively. Her hand shot out, and she slapped the loathsome man in the face. The crack of her palm striking his oily skin echoed throughout the room.
It brought her back to her senses. Her eyes widened as a crimson handprint bloomed on his cheek. His hand flew to his face, mirroring her surprise, a beat of silence hanging heavy in the air before pandemonium erupted.
A piglike squeal—a mix of pain and fury—ripped from Sneed. Mr. Bennett scrambled around his desk, stepping between them. Then the door burst open again, his assistant hurrying in—Charlotte hadn’t even realized he’d left. Close behind him came Seth Walker, with Violet at his heels.
“What’s going on here?” the sheriff asked with ringing authority. “I could hear the commotion outside.”
“That bitch assaulted me!” Quentin accused, holding his flaming cheek.
It was a rash reaction, but she couldn’t take another insult. If she went to jail for it, reliving the moment and remembering the glaring imprint of her hand on his pasty cheek would help pass the time.
Violet rushed to Charlotte’s side, speaking over Quentin’s ongoing protestations. “What happened? I stepped out for a moment, and all hell broke loose.”
Mr. Bennett’s secretary was practically shouting to be heard. “I went and fetched the sheriff, sir, since it looked like things might escalate.”
“They did indeed. She struck me out of hand,” Quentin repeated. “Do your job, Sheriff, and arrest her.”
Seth raised his hands. “Everyone, calm down. I’m not doing anything until I get an explanation.” He turned to Mr. Bennett. “Care to explain what’s going on?”
“There was a dispute that became heated on both sides. I can’t say Miss Charlotte’s actions were unprovoked.”
“I never touched her!” Quentin insisted.
“What manner of dispute?” Seth asked, ignoring him.
“He’s trying to take the Red Eye from me,” Charlotte explained. “But he’s a fraud, Seth. I’m sure of it.”
“Seth, is it?” Sneed sneered. “I see how this is going to go.”
“You see nothing,” Seth countered, steel in his tone. “Go on, Charlotte.”
“He claims to be Fenton’s brother, but he looks nothing like him. He must have heard the news of his death and quickly devised this elaborate swindle. How else would he have found out and arrived so quickly from Louisiana?”
“Ever heard of the telegraph and trains?” Quentin replied with dripping sarcasm.
“My guess is you forged Fenton’s signature on those documents,” she accused. “It’s too convenient. Your witnesses aren’t here to be questioned.”
“I can have them on the next train,” he boldly declared.
“That’s awfully convenient, too,” Charlotte pointed out. “To drop everything and travel hundreds of miles, they’re probably in your employ and would say anything.”
“I won’t have a whore impugn my integrity.”
“And I won’t let an oily pig rob me of everything I own!”
“That’s enough!” Seth roared. “The insults and foul language stop now,” he ordered Quentin. Then he turned and frowned down at her. “And you, Charlotte, will calm down.”
“But it isn’t fair. The Red Eye is all I have.”
“It’s mine by legal title,” Quentin disputed.
“It’s mine by right of adverse possession. Isn’t that right, Mr. Bennett?” She appealed to her attorney, grasping onto something she’d read about years ago. “Since I’ve been living there continuously for ten years, it’s mine.”
“You can’t claim squatter’s rights, you stupid bitch.”
Seth got in Quentin’s face, having to lean down to do so. “One more slur or foul word from you, and I’ll arrest you for public obscenity.” He stared down at the much shorter man, daring him with his glare to push him further. When he shut his trap, Seth looked to Bennett. “What do you say?”
“They both have a valid legal argument. Unfortunately, this will have to be decided in court. Judge Simpson, the territorial judge, is expected through next week.”
“Next week!” Quentin erupted. “While she pockets a week’s worth of profits? I think not.”
Seth sighed, removing his hat and rubbing his forehead. “I suppose the only fair thing to both parties is to shut the Red Eye down until the judge can decide.”
“But the bank has frozen my funds.” She looked at Mr. Bennett. “That’s why I scheduled this appointment with you in the first place. Closing the Red Eye for a week will bankrupt me. I’m already operating on a shoestring budget. If we close, I won’t be able to buy supplies or pay my workers.”
“Perhaps you could borrow the money until you meet with the judge,” Seth suggested. “How much would you need for a week?”
“To meet payroll for thirty, feed everyone, and buy whiskey—$3000. But I can’t get a loan without collateral, and the bank wouldn’t even consider my application because I’m a woman. They made that clear earlier.”
“Since this was your brilliant idea, Sheriff, maybe you could front her the money,” Violet suggested. When he frowned and said nothing—it was a large sum on a sheriff’s salary—she muttered, “I didn’t think so.”
“Even if I win in court, without access to my funds, this will ruin me,” Charlotte protested. “The staff has to be paid. If not, they will find work elsewhere. If I scrape together enough to get through the week, I’ll have nothing to reopen with.”
“Which means Sneed wins either way,” Violet declared before she demanded of the sheriff. “Whose side are you on?”
“I’m trying to do what’s fair and follow the law,” he said quietly.
“I tell you what, Charlotte,” Quentin offered. “Even though you’ve been terrible to me, you seem to care about your people. I’ll keep them on and treat them well if you give in and work for me upstairs. That’s the best deal you’ll get since you’re going to lose when the judge sees my documents.”
“Disgusting pig,” Violet hissed as Charlotte whispered, “I don’t do that kind of work anymore.”
The bastard shrugged, clearly enjoying her predicament. “I’ll give you until morning to decide. Otherwise, I’ll see you next week—in court.”
When Sneed walked out, he almost collided with a young man wearing a deputy’s badge who appeared in the open doorway. He was out of breath, as if he’d been running.
“Sheriff, we’ve got a problem at the jailhouse.”
“Not now, Rob. I’m in the middle of something.”
“I suppose it can wait, but not too long or he’ll get away.”
With narrow-eyed focus, the sheriff asked his deputy, “Who will?”
“Joe Larson. He, uh, busted out—again.”
Seth cursed under his breath. “I’ll be right there.”
The deputy nodded and left. With the instigator of the commotion gone, Bennett’s secretary returned to his outside office.
It seemed to be business as usual for everyone, while her entire life was spiraling out of control.
“Surely there’s something I can do?” she asked of Mr. Bennett.
He shook his head, his expression grim. “If we were in the city, we could get an emergency injunction. But here in the territory, justice often has to wait. I’m sorry, Charlotte.”
“Just like always, you men joined forces and made it impossible for her to win.” Violet took her arm. “Let’s go. We’ll find a way to come up with the money.”
She looked sadly at her friend, who, like her, was facing the impossible choice of losing her livelihood or working for a pig like Quentin Sneed. Before she broke down in tears, she headed for the door.
“Don’t go,” Seth advised. “Let me handle my situation, then we’ll put our heads together and come up with another plan—”
“No, thank you, Sheriff,” she said stiffly. “You’ve done enough damage with your plans already.”
“Charlotte, wait!”
But she didn’t stop, or even turn, as she and Violet headed back to their side of town.