Chapter 2

The next morning Jarrod went into the sheriff's office, his sidearm already in his hand, holding it out to the sheriff. "Well, I guess you'll talk to him at least," Sheriff Madden said.

Jarrod nodded as the sheriff took his gun. "I'll give him that much and talk to you later about what I decide about defending him."

The sheriff put Jarrod's gun in a desk drawer, got up and opened the cell block door. Jarrod walked toward the only occupied cell in the block. Alan Kyles looked up at him.

Alan was the youngest Kyles son, in his mid-twenties, tall and all gangly arms and legs but with a definite hound dog look in the face. Now that both his brothers were gone – Korby in prison and Emmet dead to pneumonia - he was the only son Jake Kyles had left, but Jake was nowhere around here this morning. "Morning, Mr. Barkley," Alan said without getting up off the cot.

Jarrod waited until the sheriff went back into his office. "Alan," Jarrod said. "I've been asked to talk to you about taking your case."

Alan snorted. "I don't know. You'd didn't do that much for Korby."

Jarrod turned to leave. "Suit yourself."

"Wait," Alan said, getting up and coming to the bars. "You considering representing me?"

"I'm thinking about it. I'm at least willing to hear what you have to say."

Kyles shook his head. "Not til you tell me that what I tell you is between you and me. Tell me you'll take my case, and I'll tell you what I know."

Jarrod didn't come in here ready to tell him that. "You tell me what you know, and I'll keep it confidential whether I take your case or not."

"What security I got in that?"

"The security of a man whose word is good, unlike yours. Now, tell me what you know."

"I didn't do it."

"Who did?"

"Man name of Allman, one of the ones who said I did it, but I'll bet you anything he's left town and won't be back to testify against me."

"Why would he and another one blame you?"

Alan hesitated. He looked toward the cell block door.

"The sheriff can't hear us," Jarrod said. "Tell me the truth, Alan. What's the whole thing about?"

Alan hesitated and finally said, "Money."

"I need more than that."

"The other one who said I did it – name's Stuart. Him and Allman and Trace, they was all in cahoots in a ring that got some Chinese here to Stockton to work as servants for some of Stockton's finest."

"'Cahoots'? You saying something illegal was going on?"

"Damn straight. Them Chinese was kidnapped out of China, brought here and sold to them they're working for."

Jarrod straightened up. For a moment he thought it was preposterous. There were plenty of Chinese around, but then he remembered more than one of Stockton's finest families complaining that Chinese help inside the home was hard to find. Jarrod felt his blood boiling. "Come now, Alan. Even if that were true, how would you know anything about it?"

"Korby was involved in it. He told me all about it before he went to prison."

"And how are you involved with it?"

"I ain't. I got nothin' at all to do with it, never did have."

"But you knew about it and didn't say anything to anyone."

"I don't squeal."

"But I'll bet you got at least one payoff out of this, didn't you?"

Alan nodded, reluctantly.

"What was the fight about?"

"Allman wanted to kill me. Trace and Stuart wanted to pay me off again. They argued. They never did get along much anyway."

"All right, tell me this. How did three wasted men and your brother Korby run a Chinese slavery ring when they didn't have a brain between the four of them?"

The hound dog eyes looked straight at him. "Col. Ashby. It was his operation. He paid the bills while Korby and them others did the work. And somebody else."

"Who else?"

"You gonna take my case?"

"Depends. Who else?"

Alan Kyles sighed and turned away. "You ain't gonna like it, Counselor."

"Give me a name, Alan, or I'm walking out now."

"Attorney Summers."

Jarrod felt stabbed. "Gerald Summers?" He was an Assistant District Attorney, a prosecutor in this county, well liked and well respected.

Alan nodded. "He's been paying the bills since Col. Ashby got killed."

"How do you know this?"

"Korby told me. Summers was in it all along, arranging getting the Chinese outta China and over here. He's kept that up but he's making most of the money now, too."

"And Korby told you that, too? He's in the know since he's been in prison?"

"I went to Trace with what Korby told me and wanted to be dealt in. They wouldn't do it, but they paid me a pittance to keep my mouth shut. Allman got tired of paying me. Why they was ever stupid enough to fight it out in a bar on a Saturday night – "

"Yes, why?"

"I don't know, but they did! Allman pulled the knife and killed Trace, then when everybody started seeing what was happening, he couldn't kill me. He talked Stuart into blamin' me. Guess they figure to get me out of their hair even if they couldn't kill me. Guess they figured nobody'd believe me."

Jarrod shook his head. "I don't believe any of this, Kyles."

"No? Maybe you ought to check in with the Tanner family or the Potter family, check on them new Chinks they got working in their houses. Summers arranged it and Allman, Stuart and Trace did the heavy work, and it all came finished just two weeks ago."

"Are you willing to tell the sheriff all this?"

"And dig my own grave on slavery charges? That ain't a whole let better than murder charges, Counselor. I told you, and you gotta keep it secret, I know. It's what you lawyers do and it's what you gave me your word on. I ain't sayin' nothin' to the sheriff or anybody else until my trial."

"What if I can get you a deal?"

Kyles snorted. "How you gonna get me a deal when the man who's up to his neck in this slavery thing is the man prosecutin' my case?"

Jarrod turned away. He felt as trapped in a cell as Kyles was. Everything Kyles had told him was information he had to keep confidential until Kyles released him from the obligation. "What have you told the sheriff?"

"That I didn't do it and Allman did."

"Did you say why?"

"I didn't say anything more than that."

Jarrod let everything turn over in his mind. He wasn't sure that whatever he did, it would be the right thing. But it did boil down to whether he believed Alan Kyles knifed Jubal Trace to death, and he believed those hound dog eyes. Alan did not do it. "I'll take your case," Jarrod said, "and I'll have to look into the rest of what you've told me, but only I and anyone who works for me will know what you've said to me until you cut me loose to talk about it, or unless someone else talks about it."

"I can't pay you."

"I know that. You'd never have enough money if you saved every penny you earned from the day you were born."

Jarrod banged on the cell block door, and Sheriff Madden came to let him out. Once they were back in the office, the sheriff returned his sidearm, and he could tell just by the way Jarrod moved and by the look on his face that Jarrod was taking Alan Kyles's case.

"You gonna go enter your appearance?" the sheriff asked.

Jarrod looked up at him and nodded. "He's got a credible defense. How I'm gonna put it together I don't know yet, but he's got one."

"I appreciate this, Jarrod."

Jarrod gave him a small smile. "I hope you still feel that way when this is all over."