Give Me Tonight(106)

"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."

Dary turned crimson, looking away from her. Addie kept her eyes steadily on him, ignoring Ben's hard stare. Dary seemed to be choking with embarrass­ment. Finally he looked at Ben. "That true, Ben?"

"Tell him the truth, Ben," Addie said.

Ben's green eyes snapped with anger. "Keep it un­der your hats, if at all possible," he said, his mouth twisting. "I don't want her reputation dragged through the mud."

But they all knew it was too late for that. The whole town would be delighted and scandalized by the story. Russell Warner, strangled in his own bed while his daughter slept with the foreman. There was no way anyone could keep that under his hat for long.