Chapter 38
Chapter
James nearly dropped his hat. Clevenger set the fire?
What possible motive could he have? The man made a habit of pandering to all the business owners in town in hopes of advancing his political career.
By all accounts, he got on well enough with Taggert.
He’d even been seen supporting the saloon owner at Noreen’s hearing.
A sick swirling churned his gut as Ramona Clevenger’s words began to make a horrible sort of sense.
If she failed to protect her daughter from her husband, that would mean .
. . Arthur Clevenger set the fire, not to harm Taggert but to destroy his stepdaughter.
James couldn’t fathom such cruel selfishness.
How could a man live with himself after such an act?
Harming his own family? Endangering the entire town?
The man deserved to be thrown into a rattlesnake den.
Color drained from Noreen’s face as her mother slowly rose from the sofa, clutching the flour sack she’d been guarding to her chest. Three wobbly steps brought her to stand in front of James.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. Her chin nearly touched her chest as she pressed the sack into his hands.
“I never thought he’d go this far.” The broken murmur of her admission made his chest ache.
“For years he’s blamed Noreen for his inability to convince the city council of his suitability for an appointment.
Her outspoken ways and disregard for his authority reflected poorly on his ability to manage his household.
And her increased temperance work angers the people with whom he’s cultivated alliances.
Things were better for a while after he severed ties with her, making her unwelcome in our home.
” She lifted her head, her gaze overflowing with regret.
“I should have done a better job of standing up to him, but I went along. Wanting to keep the peace. But I’m not going along any longer.
Not when my daughter would be the one paying the price. ”
Her shoulders straightened, and for a heartbeat, James recognized the same fire in her that he so often saw in Noreen.
Mrs. Clevenger nodded toward the parson, standing quietly in the back of the room.
“Brother Cowan assured me that obeying God takes precedence over obeying one’s husband in situations where the two authorities come into conflict.
The Lord commands that we speak truth and act justly.
I can’t do those things if I hide what I know. ”
James hung his hat on the back of a nearby chair, then took the sack that likely held evidence of Clevenger’s guilt.
He waited to open it, though. Better to keep the witness talking.
Get as much of the story as possible now in case she lost her nerve later.
He wouldn’t put it past her husband to try to intimidate her into recanting.
“What do you know, Mrs. Clevenger?” He set the flour sack near his feet and retrieved the notepad from his pocket.
Her throat worked up and down as she swallowed. “Arthur never came to bed last night. That’s not like him. When the fire bell awakened me, the sheets were cold on his side of the bed. I searched the house for him, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t see him until after the fire.”
“How did he look when he came home?” James asked. “What was he wearing, and what was the condition of his clothes?”
Mrs. Clevenger paused, her expression growing thoughtful. “He looked tired. That’s what I remember most. And he was in a foul mood. Snapping at me whenever I asked a question.”
“Were his clothes wet? Dry? Clean or dirty? Did he smell of smoke?”
“Dry and clean. And different from the clothes he’d worn the day before. There might have been a faint smoke odor. I don’t recall.”
If the man had fought the fire, his clothes would have reeked of smoke. Heaven knew his own clothes had spread their stink through his entire bedroom. If Mrs. Clevenger didn’t recall a smoky smell, Arthur had kept his distance from the blaze.
“When I asked about the fire,” she continued, “he told me that the saloon had burned but that he’d guarded the emporium to ensure it remained unharmed.”
Yep. Tended his own needs instead of helping others. A true public servant.
“I assumed his clothes hadn’t been soiled because the fire hadn’t reached the emporium, but then I found other clothes in the laundry pile.
” She nodded toward the flour sack. “The clothes he wore yesterday are in there. They smell of kerosene, and there’s some kind of brownish stain on the hem of his trouser leg and one of his socks. ”
James’s gut tightened as he looked up from his notes.
Noreen’s mother wrung her hands in front of her.
“When I took him his lunch today, I asked him about it because his clothes had looked and smelled normal when I’d bid him good-night.
He said he’d returned to the emporium to work on a project in the storeroom and spilled paint thinner on his trousers.
But when I asked what he’d been working on, he snapped at me to quit wasting his time.
I had laundry to do, and he expected his clothes to be pristine when he returned.
A future city councilman needed to look his best. That’s when I first became suspicious.
He made the claim as if it had already happened. ”
James crouched and opened the bag. The sharp smell of kerosene hit him in the face and wrinkled his nose.
He pulled out the clothing items, one by one.
Sure enough, a brown stain that could easily be paint lined the bottom edge of one pant leg, the color identical to what he’d found in the alley.
A second smear of paint stained the ankle section of a gray ribbed sock.
Certainty gripped James by the throat. Arthur Clevenger was the arsonist. Yet a few dirty clothes wouldn’t be enough for a conviction.
He needed more. He needed to connect Clevenger to the handkerchief.
Ramona Clevenger twisted slightly and nodded toward Miss Evans.
“When Martha and Miss Lockwood came to see me and asked about Noreen’s handkerchief, I knew what had happened.
Arthur started the fire and arranged for my girl to take the blame.
” She shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes.
“His ambition has twisted his mind. He’s convinced himself that Noreen is his only impediment to achieving his goals.
He must believe that with her gone, his success would be assured. ”
Mrs. Clevenger bit her lip and moved hesitantly toward her daughter.
“I should have stood up to him sooner, Reenie. I never challenged him, even when he expelled you from our home.” Her voice trembled as she tried to hold back her tears.
“I didn’t see what he was becoming. I didn’t want to see. I’m sorry, Reenie. S-so sorry.”
Noreen rose from the sofa and pulled her mother into a hug. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. I love you, Mama. Always and forever.”
The ladies huddled around Noreen and her mother, murmuring comfort and encouragement. James hated to interrupt the tender moment, but he needed to ask a few more questions before he could seek out his suspect.
He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Clevenger?”
The ladies parted in front of him. Noreen’s mother wiped her eyes and nose on a lacy white handkerchief, then turned to face him. “Yes, Deputy?”
“Did you ever see your husband with your daughter’s embroidered handkerchief?”
Her brows scrunched together. “I-I don’t think so, though I wouldn’t recognize it if I had. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been privy to the nature of Noreen’s personal items.”
Jane Cowan pulled a fabric square from her pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Mrs. Clevenger. “It would have looked like this.”
What was it with these hankies? First Luella, then Noreen, and now Miss Cowan. All with identical patterns on their handkerchiefs. Was this some kind of new fashion trend?
Mrs. Clevenger ran her finger over the blue embroidered flowers but shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen one like this at our home.”
James frowned. He’d hoped to connect Arthur to the handkerchief. It would have strengthened his case.
“Martha thinks he took it from the clothesline behind the boardinghouse.” Noreen met his gaze, and James’s heart pounded a little harder.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, yet the shock of her mother’s revelation had faded, allowing the feisty grit he loved to flare back to life.
The schoolmarm nodded. “We questioned Mrs. Barker, and she recalled washing the handkerchief when it got mixed in with the towels she’d collected from her boarders’ rooms, but when she took the linens off the line, there was no handkerchief.
She’d forgotten about it since she doesn’t usually wash personal items, but our questions sparked her memory. ”
James made a note to stop by the boardinghouse and ask Mrs. Barker and the other boarders if anyone recalled seeing Mr. Clevenger in the area on wash day.
Miss Cowan turned to Noreen. “Don’t you do your washing on Wednesdays, when you aren’t working at the hotel? How did your handkerchief get mixed in with the towels?”
“You probably don’t remember, but Mrs. Stephens was wearing a heavy dose of rosewater last Sunday. The scent aggravated my allergies. I used my handkerchief all through services.” Noreen met James’s gaze. “Mrs. Stephens sits in the pew directly behind the Cowans.”
Mrs. Cowan braced a hand on the back of the sofa.
“I remember that. Louise doesn’t usually wear such strong perfume.
I hinted that she might have applied it too generously, and she mentioned being obligated to wear more than usual.
She’d received a free bottle in exchange for wearing the perfume to church and telling everyone who asked about it where they could purchase it for themselves. ”
James raised a brow. “And who supplied the free bottle?”
The preacher’s wife bit her lip, a pained expression on her face. “Clevenger’s Emporium.”
James looked to Noreen. “I assume your stepfather is aware of your allergy?”
She nodded. “When he and Mama were first married, he bought her a vial of expensive French perfume. It was a fancy blend of rose and lilac, I think. Whenever she wore it, I ended up with a headache, red eyes, and a runny nose. One time, I even had trouble breathing. After that, Mama never wore the scent, and Arthur grumbled about wasting his hard-earned money.”
Ramona Clevenger’s forehead scrunched. “How did he even know about your handkerchief?”
“He saw it at the courthouse,” Martha explained, “after the hearing. Noticed her initials. Knew it could be used to incriminate her. He couldn’t have known when Noreen would launder the handkerchief, but creating a situation where she’d be likely to soil it would increase the likelihood of her washing it.
All he’d have to do is watch the boardinghouse clothesline and snatch it whenever it appeared. ”
“Sounds like he’d been planning this for quite some time.” James frowned. “Premeditated arson of an inhabited building is a capital offense.”
Punishable by life in prison with hard labor or hanging depending on the mood of the judge.
An outcome Clevenger had tried to force upon Noreen.
James clenched his jaw and forced himself to breathe.
As much as he wanted to yank Clevenger from behind his counter and pound his fists into the man’s paunchy stomach, he couldn’t afford to let rage have its way.
If he was to prove Noreen’s innocence, he needed a cool head and a calculating mind.
Forcing a bland expression onto his face, James pocketed his notebook and collected his hat. “I think it’s time I had a word with Mr. Clevenger.”
The preacher strode forward. “I’ll come with you.”
“I’ll be fine, Parson.” He waved the man off, but the clergyman kept walking.
When Brother Cowan reached James’s side, he clapped him on the back and offered a friendly smile.
“I know you will, son, but sometimes it helps to have a witness to corroborate one man’s story over another.
Clevenger has powerful friends in this town.
If it’s just your word against his, he could bring your character into question, claim you manufactured evidence to protect your sweetheart.
It might help to have an objective third party bear witness to your conversation. ”
The suggestion rubbed a raw spot into his hide. He shouldn’t have to defend his character when he had a proven record of acting with integrity. But Taggert had raised a similar concern earlier, which validated the parson’s point.
James shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He couldn’t afford to let his pride get in the way of Noreen’s best interests. He repacked the flour sack with Clevenger’s dirty clothes, then handed it to Miss Evans since she stood closest to him. “Keep an eye on this evidence until I return.”
“We will.” Martha voiced the vow, but everyone in the room nodded. Everyone except Noreen. She stared at him in a way that set his pulse to throbbing.
He swallowed and forced himself to turn away.
Those eyes, glowing with admiration, trust, and something else he dearly wanted to explore, threatened to distract him more than the imaginary target painted on Clevenger’s belly.
He needed his wits about him, and imagining how it would feel to hold her and kiss her in a proper manner was not helping matters.
Focus, Paxton!
He made it halfway to the door when Noreen called to him.
“James. Wait.”
He halted, of course. He’d have the entire walk to the town square to get his head on straight. If Noreen needed something from him, he’d not deny her.
As he pivoted, he almost failed to get his arms out of the way before she threw herself against his chest and grabbed hold of his waist. Blood pumping through his veins at a dizzying rate, he closed his arms around her and hugged her tight.
Man, but he loved this woman. Fire and sunshine, sass and sweetness, courage and compassion, all rolled into one amazing package.
He leaned his cheek against the top of her head, then dropped a kiss onto her hair, wishing they were alone so he could soothe her worries more thoroughly. Shoot, his own worries might need a little soothing, too.
“It’s gonna be all right, darlin’,” he promised.
She lifted her face. “I know. Even if the worst happens, it’ll still be all right. God will work it out for good.”
That’s when he recognized what had changed in her gaze.
Peace. Somehow, in the middle of a tornado-level storm, she’d found peace.
His heart swelled as he traced the curve of her face with the edge of his finger.
God was indeed at work, and James prayed that work would include justice.
For as much as he trusted God’s plan, he really didn’t want to court Noreen through steel bars.