Free These Honored Dead by Jonathan F. Putnam Page B

so, Your Honor,” he said, his voice cracking as it rose, “what the parties had here was an agreement to agree, not an agreement on the ultimate res itself. When they came to no final agreement regarding that res —the bounty land of Major Richmond—Dr. Patterson was free to walk away, and that’s exactly the right he’s exercised.”
    Logan rose to respond, but Judge Thomas waved him back into his chair. “I’ve heard enough for one day,” the judge said. “Save your breath. The clerk will put you down for trial in the September Term.
    “In the meantime,” the judge continued, “the court takes notice of the evident hostility between the two litigants. Dr. Patterson, Major Richmond”—the judge punched the air with his cigar as if jabbing an invisible opponent—“stay clear of each other. If I hear of either of you disturbing the other before I resolve this dispute at trial, I will have you jailed. Understood?”
    Each man grumbled it was, and the judge directed the clerk Matheny to call the next matter. Prickett turned to me and said, “Then why did she lie about the murder weapon? She told us she’d never seen one like it. But the sheriff and I were out at her cabin again last week and we found another ‘Bowie’ knife, an exact match, hidden in her backhouse.”
    I gaped, my heart pounding, as the prosecutor moved forward and took his position in the well of the courtroom.

C HAPTER 10
    T o my great frustration, I couldn’t figure out what to do next. Any number of possible explanations for the presence of the second knife occurred to me—perhaps the killer had brought two with him and had stowed the second one after committing his horrible deed—but I couldn’t see how to prove or disprove any of them. Given Rebecca’s insistence that I leave her alone, a return trip to Menard to search around her house, or perhaps to confront her and get her explanation for this new evidence, seemed out of the question.
    In the meantime, I felt powerless to help Rebecca avoid the onrushing jeopardy. I hesitated to trouble Lincoln further, at least until I had learned more and could offer him something beyond bald assurances of Rebecca’s innocence. For the first time since my bout with near-fatal illness, I found myself wishing I’d read law after all. Perhaps then I would have known how to deflect Prickett’s unfounded suspicions.
    I was still lost amidst these unproductive ruminations a few days later when my store door was thrown open and a blur of a small child shot inside. As Jesse started spinning around in a circle in the reception area, humming with his arms outstretched, Rebecca hurried in behind him.
    I strode forward and took her hands, and I flushed as I felt her warm skin against mine and breathed in her intoxicating scent.
    There was the briefest flicker of warmth in her eyes, but then she released my hands and her face hardened. “I’m glad we found you, Joshua,” she said. “Can I ask a favor?”
    “Of course. Anything.”
    “We’ve come from the doctor’s. There’s a bunion on Jesse’s foot I wanted him to look at. But now I have some business to conduct in town. Can you keep an eye on Jesse for an hour or so? He’s always running off and I’m losing track of him.”
    “Certainly,” I said. “Has he brought his McGuffey Readers with him?”
    She looked at me warily and said, “I left those at home, I’m afraid.” She added soundlessly, mouthing the words for my benefit, He doesn’t read . Aloud, she continued: “He’s brought his jacks and a set of dominoes. And he likes little cakes, if you have any, when he’s hungry. He’ll keep his own company and out of your way, don’t worry.”
    I reached out to give Jesse a friendly pat on his head, but he skittered away, scrambled up and over my counter, and started pawing through the goods on my lower shelves.
    “How old is he?” I asked as we watched him play. “He doesn’t look eight years yet.”
    “Just turned ten,