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Emily had been removed from her home, and was staying in the same boardinghouse where Jeremy now had a room. According to the Ranger, who they were waiting on, he had gathered a lot of information on Smith and Sanders that Jesse could use for the trial. Emily hadn’t uncovered anything worthwhile in the mansion before she’d been escorted from her home.

It turned out Louis’s favorite whore had been the recipient of his largess. Yet the town, and the law enforcement organization, still treated the man’s memory as if he had been a fine, upstanding citizen.

Once they got ahold of Jeremy’s notes they would outline their strategy. Since the prosecution presented their case first, they had some time. The Ranger was supposed to have met them several days ago, but had sent one excuse after another why he couldn’t meet them. He’d at least provided, by courier, the list of witnesses he interviewed who would be able to testify. But nothing on what they’d said.

Hunter could feel Jesse’s frustration with the man, and he had reached the point himself where he wanted to just get Jeremy’s investigative notes and let him go on his way. He had too much riding on this trial to babysit a drug addict.

The hotel room Jesse and Hunter were staying in had every available space covered with papers, diagrams, notes, and evidence. Jesse had a lineup of character witnesses, but without Jeremy’s various interviews from the last few weeks, they had next to nothing.

“We should have had Jeremy give us his information as he went along. Keeping it all to the end was stupid. I should know better than that,” Jesse said.

“It was his idea. I trust him. I’ve worked with him for years, and that’s the way he manages his investigations. He says it doesn’t come together for him until he lays out all the facts and interviews, then can see a pattern. Believe me, he’s solved plenty of cases that way.”

“Was that before or after he became addicted to morphine?”

Hunter’s stomach muscles tightened. “That’s a good point.”

About three hours later, Jesse stood and stretched, rotating the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders. “I have to get out of this room. What do you say we take a walk over to the boardinghouse and see where the hell Jeremy is?” His clipped tone told Hunter just how irritated his uncle was.

Hunter shrugged into his jacket. “After we get something to eat. I’m starved.”

They continued to discuss the trial and what they could expect from the prosecution side as they dodged shoppers and office workers on their lunch break. As much as he tried to be confident, Hunter knew he was in a lot of trouble. The three strikes the State had against him were pretty strong.

He was also concerned about how Emily would be perceived by the townspeople once the District Attorney brought their relationship out into the open. The jury would hear about her trip to Guthrie, how Hunter followed her to Galveston, and most likely about their attempted escape. He would do anything to protect her from this, but hopefully Jesse’s strategy would soften the blows a bit.

This would be a mud-slinging trial. Jesse intended to subpoena Emily to testify to the beatings she’d endured at the hands of her husband. Her maid was on the witness list as well as Millie. He felt it was important to impress upon the jury that Smith had a darker side that he never showed to the public.

Jesse had cautioned Hunter that their testimony could go both ways. It only strengthened the prosecutor’s contention that Hunter killed Louis to free Emily from his grip.

According to the little bit of information Jeremy had provided, he had several Smith and Sanders clients ready to testify to their business practices. That might cast some doubt with the jury because irate clients who stood to lose a lot of money could certainly be pushed to violence. But they still had no viable suspect.

Except him.

They were just about through with their lunch when a man burst into the café. “Hey, the boardinghouse over there on Avenue O is on fire. Flames shooting up to the sky. What a mess!”

“Emily!”

“Jeremy!”

They both spoke at once. Jesse tossed money onto the table, and they ra

ced from the café. It was about a seven block walk to the boardinghouse. Jesse tried to wave down a taxi, but none were available.

Instead they shared a tense, silent run as they sprinted past shoppers and strollers. They were both out of breath when they rounded the corner on O Street.

The fire had apparently been doused, but smoke still rose in the air from where the firemen had soaked the area. The top left-hand side of the house was completely charred. Hunter scanned the crowd, his heart pounding. There were so many people gawking and blocking the entrance.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jesse grabbed him by the collar as he broke through a cluster of men in front of him.

“I have to get inside. Emily.”

“Hunter!” He swung around just as Emily plastered herself against him.

“Thank God you’re all right.” He ran his hands over her back, then cupped her head, studying her eyes. “What?”

Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, obvious signs she’d been crying.

“Jeremy.”

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