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The man leaned forward in his chair, his steel-blue eyes clashing with Keern’s. “Mr. Herrington, if she didn’t wield the sword, then I don’t see how I can arrest her.”
Jacob clutched Keern’s arm. Keern eased back at the gentle pressure from his cousin’s hold. The constable knew Jacob. Maybe he could get somewhere.
“Wade, can you at least bring her in for questioning?”
The man’s flashing eyes lost their edge as they shifted to Jacob. Chief Constable Murray took a deep breath.
Keern lowered himself into one of the leather chairs facing the desk, then glanced out the large windows on the adjacent wall. The sun had disappeared behind the trees, and the clouds above them were lined in pink and purple.
“Jacob, look, I’ve got to ride out and tell the girl about her father. You and your cousin can ride with me, as long as you keep him in line.”
Keern fumed, but knew it wasn’t really directed at this man, but at Shena. The woman who had betrayed him and cost him his brother.
Keern, Jacob, and Chief Constable Murray arrived at the Wakefield house after nightfall. A guard let them in the front gate, and they rode on to the house.
In the light of Aos, the largest moon circling Tarun, the place appeared cold and sinister. The branches of the large agoba trees arched outward, casting looming shadows across the enormous house and the stone pathway leading to it.
They approached the huge, curved wooden doors, and Murray grabbed the brass knocker, rapping it against the door, sharp and loud.
A long time passed, and he rapped again.
Finally, the large door creaked open, revealing a burly man almost two meters in height, with a straggly brown beard and equally straggly, shoulder-length hair.
“Bahrd, I’ve come with bad news,” Murray said. “Henry Wakefield is dead.”
The man’s eyes darkened as he scowled.
“I’ve come to talk to his daughter,” Murray continued.
The man’s face closed up. “Can’t say I know where she be.”
“Then you’d better find her,” Keern demanded.
The man’s shoulders squared and he leaned forward. “And who’s going to make me?”
Keern started forward, but Jacob grabbed his arm.
“Bahrd,” Murray interjected, “I need to speak with her. Go find her.”
The man glared at Keern, then glanced back to Murray. “I don’t think lookin’ll turn her up, Chief.”
“Do you think she’ll turn up by tomorrow morning?”
Bahrd shrugged.
“I see. Let’s put it this way. I want her at the courthouse by nine tomorrow morning, or I’ll come out looking for her. Got it?”
The large man shrugged again. “Whatever ye say, Chief.”
Keern itched to plow past the man and search the house room by room until he found the lying bitch, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere right now. He followed the chief constable and Jacob away from the Wakefield house.
Tomorrow, he would see Shena again. His heart stumbled a little at the thought, an image of her sweet, smiling face swirling through his head, which just cranked his anger up a notch.
Shena had been awakened by the loud knocking, not that she’d been sleeping very heavily, with Bahrd hanging around her door, watching her. She heard men’s voices outside, but couldn’t hear their words. At the thunderous sound of Bahrd’s boots on the wooden stairs, she clung to her covers, watching the door.
He appeared in the doorway, a gigantic, looming shape backlit by the moonlight from the large window over the stairs.
“Looks like yer an orphan, lass.” He stepped toward her and dragged the covers from her body. She lay on the bed, shivering in her light cotton nightgown. His gaze raked over her.
