A Family For The Holidays. Sherri Shackelford
to that conclusion?”
He didn’t doubt her, but he was curious about her reasoning.
“Vic just informed me that the Tyler children were now a part of this jurisdiction, and the sheriff has decided that Vic Skaar should assume their guardianship.”
“Those are some awfully fancy words for Sheriff Koepke.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had some time to think while he was locked up. Whatever Vic was searching for, he hadn’t found the item. Jake had watched Vic exit the building looking grimmer than when he entered. There was still something missing from his motivations. If he’d been responsible for Emil’s disappearance over his poker debt, why search his rooms? Dead men didn’t collect debts.
A sudden realization dawned on Jake. Vic hadn’t found out about Emil’s grandchildren until after he’d searched Emil’s rooms. He also hadn’t discovered what he was searching for, which meant he needed a new plan.
Lily, Sam and Peter had dropped into his lap like a gift. Vic and Emil were definitely tangled in some trouble.
None of that explained why Lily wanted to bust him out of jail. Especially considering she’d practically put him there.
“Why are you here?” Jake asked. “I still don’t know what you want from me.”
“I think that’s obvious. You’re a gun for hire, aren’t you?” She extended the pistol she’d held on him earlier, the muzzle down. “Here’s a gun. I want to hire you.”
Jake flushed. This certainly complicated matters. More for safety than for an acknowledgment of the offer, he accepted the gun.
After flipping open the chamber, he spun the cylinder.
Empty.
Clearly the ancient weapon hadn’t been cleaned or fired in ages. Probably a relic from an elderly relative.
“This gun isn’t much use without the bullets,” he said.
“I know.” Lily scowled. “I forgot about the bullets. I didn’t think having a loaded gun around the children was very safe.”
“It’s not much of a defense either.” While he was grateful she’d relinquished the weapon, he wasn’t finished with his lecture. Lily holding a gun was about as natural as a peacock in a rowboat and just as precarious. “You and I need to have a long and detailed conversation about personal safety and protection.”
“Until then—” she looked him up and down, as though measuring the strength of his resolve “—you may assume the responsibility for the gun.”
Lily Winter took too much for granted. She was far too trusting. What if he was actually an outlaw? What then? She’d just handed a gun to someone she thought was a killer for hire. He could easily shoot her. If he had the bullets, and if the gun’s workings weren’t rusted with age. But that wasn’t the point.
“The gun is mine,” he said. “For now. And we’re not associating. I haven’t agreed to anything.”
She reached for the weapon and he yanked it out of reach.
“You’re stealing my gun?” she cried. “That’s some gratitude for breaking you of jail.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
Her expression turned wintry. “I’ll pay you.”
“How much?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Not enough.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You never intended to accept!”
“I needed to know how much you could afford.”
With an abundance of caution, Sheriff Koepke had barred all the windows in the cramped space. Sunlight persevered, casting blocks of shadows on the floor, illuminating Lily’s expressive face. He shouldn’t goad her, but there was something magnificent about how the sliver of light piercing the barred window lit her blue eyes.
The color reminded him of the feathers on the crown of a barn swallow. The kind of blue that brought to mind the endless summer days of his youth. When he and his brothers had slipped away from their chores and splashed in the stream behind the old barn—before their mother’s death. He’d felt as though his life had been cleaved in two, and everything before her death had dropped into oblivion. He’d thought those memories had vanished from his consciousness, but for some inexplicable reason, Lily and her charges had inspired their reappearance.
The door swung open, snapping him back to the present.
Sam and Peter scuttled inside. They were bundled head to toe against the cold, wrapped like colorful mummies.
The older boy, Sam, tucked his hands in his armpits and shivered. “I don’t think he saw us.”
Peter slammed the door and leaned against the wood panel. “He’s coming!”
“Why aren’t you at the hotel?” Lily rushed to meet them. “How did you find me?”
“I didn’t figure you’d take a gun to the mercantile,” Peter replied. “We watched you from the window on the landing.”
Sam released his fingers from the warmth of his armpits, skipped past Jake and stuck his face through the bars. “How come the gunfighter isn’t in there? I thought you said he was in jail.”
Peter joined his brother. “Do you think a killer carved his initials in the bricks? Do you think there’s ever been a hanging in Frozen Oaks? Do you think there’s ever been a jail bust? Do you think Billy the Kid was ever locked up in here?”
“Enough of that morbid talk!” Lily snatched the boy’s arm and dragged him back a pace. “You can’t be here. We mustn’t arouse suspicion.”
“But it’s Sherriff Koepke.” Peter grasped his brother’s other arm, putting the boy in an odd tug of war. “He’s coming.”
Jake stilled. “No games. Did you actually see the sheriff?”
“We’re telling the truth.”
“We heard everything,” Sam eagerly added. “The sheriff and Vic were talking. Vic is coming to the jailhouse after he has dinner with Miss Regina and smooths her ruffled feathers.”
“Why is he coming to the jail?” Jake prodded. “Did he say?”
Lily shot him a quelling glance. “Don’t encourage them. We don’t have time for questions. They need to leave.”
“I’m not encouraging them, and time or not, this information is vital.”
Possibly even lifesaving. Vic was obviously interested in the boys and their inheritance. Lily was either part of the prize or a hindrance. Jake needed to know which before he made his next move.
“Vic said that he and the sheriff are going to take care of the prisoner,” Sam continued. “Then he’ll finally have everything he wants.”
“Did either the sheriff or Mr. Skaar see you?” Lily interrupted. “Are you certain he doesn’t know you were listening?”
“We were silent as mountain lions,” Sam offered cheerfully. “We were hiding outside his door. Don’t worry, we were real quiet. He didn’t even know we were there.”
“Why on earth were you spying on him in the first place?”
“Because we found this,” Sam declared. He retrieved a folded St. Joseph Star newspaper from the waistband of his trousers and pointed at a block of text in the social commentary section. “Regina and Vic left this