Harvest Moon (Jordan-Alexander Family 2)

“What did you take?”

“I didn’t take anything,” Charlotte said. “It wasn’t like we were stealing. Miss Brennan gave it to us.”

“It wasn’t Miss Brennan’s to give,” David said. “Now, please answer the question. What did you take?”

“I got some of her dresses. The yellow one and the green one. And I got a couple of nightgowns and a silver and black necklace,” Charlotte answered. “I lost it, though. Too bad. It was real pretty.”

David ground his teeth at Charlotte’s description of Tessa’s rosary. “Did Miss Brennan give Miss Roarke’s room to anyone else at the Satin Slipper?”

“Yes, sir. That morning.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting Charlotte to volunteer information was next to impossible. “Do you know who got the room?”

“Mr. Alexander, you know who got her room,” Charlotte reminded him.

“Yes, I do,” David admitted, “but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell the rest of the people here who got the room.”

“I did,” she mumbled.

“Louder, please, so everyone can hear.”

“I did.”

“Thank you, Miss Winston,” David said. “Now, I have just one more question. Did you like Tessa Roarke?”

“Huh?” Charlotte seemed genuinely puzzled by the question.

“Did you like Miss Roarke? I mean, she was one of you. You worked together. You both went with the gentlemen customers—”

Tessa gasped aloud.

“I don’t know whether I liked her or not,” Charlotte answered honestly. “I didn’t really know her. She kept to herself. She and her boy. She didn’t whor…go with the gentlemen, like the rest of us. She just served drinks. That’s all.”

“Thank you again, Miss Winston. I have no more questions at this time.” David held out his hand. “You may step down.” He helped her down from the stand, then walked back to the defense table and sat down.

Tessa reached out and placed her hand on top of his.

David looked at her.

She didn’t speak. She simply squeezed his hand in a gesture of approval and encouragement and love and a dozen other emotions she couldn’t put a name to.

David’s heart thumped at her touch. He smiled at her.

“The territory of Wyoming calls Miss Myra Brennan to the stand.” Jeremy Cook made the announcement.

The spectators in the courtroom recognized drama when they saw it. Almost everyone in town had witnessed the confrontation between Myra and David Alexander on the sidewalk the day Tessa Roarke was released from jail. And nearly everyone in town had seen Tessa dash into the saloon, intent on reclaiming her property.

Dressed in an exquisite black satin moiré dress in the latest Paris fashion, Myra Brennan walked to the front of the courtroom, raised her right hand, and repeated the oath. She carefully seated herself in the chair Charlotte had vacated.

“Please state your name and your occupation for the record,” Jeremy said.

“Myra Belle Brennan. I’m the proprietor of the Satin Slipper Saloon here in Peaceable.” She spoke softly, carefully.

“Do you know the defendant, Miss Roarke?” Jeremy Cook strolled over to the table where David and Tessa sat and pointed a finger at Tessa.

“Yes, I do.”

“And did you know the victim, Mr. Arnie Mason?”