Chapter 9

Self-Preservation

11am

Kitty sat still in the hard wooden chair, moving only to shift from an uncomfortable position or look down the barrel of the gun aimed at her chest. She had arrived at 950 Johnson Fork Road right on time, her rented horse and buggy parked outside with her handwritten directions to the place lying in the seat.

During the brief periods of silence, she had been cursing herself for the past two hours. Kitty had a keen intuition and seldom ignored it. Now she was reminded why.

Something hadn't felt right at the livery. She had asked the owner if he knew Charles Metheny, and he did. He was happy to give her directions to Johnson Fork Road and asked if she was another relative coming to help. His brother-in-law had rented a horse from him a couple of weeks ago, telling him that Charles was not well and needed care. When she had explained the reason for her trip, he seemed surprised. He had never heard of Silas Gardner and wondered how Charles would even be capable of handling an estate in his condition.

Kitty found his comments disconcerting but decided to chalk it up to the big city. This wasn't Dodge where everyone knew everyone else's business. Surely he didn't know every man in Wichita, so not knowing Silas was perfectly plausible. And Charles was old, he was allowed to have a relative come and stay with him. It didn't mean he was unable to write down a last will and testament. He had written that letter to her, after all. She hadn't come all this way to let a little uncertainty send her running back home like a frightened woman who couldn't take care of herself.

She was too stunned to process the situation when the man who opened the door was not the frail stranger she had pictured, but was instead Jed Connelly. The Jed Connelly she had known and liked for years, now a person she didn't recognize. The Jed Connelly who was supposed to be in Hays at this very moment, relaying his delusional version of events to a jury she had been praying would understand the nature of his injury.

Her immediate thoughts had been of Matt, as they were when she awakened that morning. Somehow the only witness against him in this farce of a lawsuit was standing in front of her in Wichita, and surely that meant the trial was off. She hadn't even considered that she was in danger until he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the house, slamming the door and sticking a gun in her side.

He ordered her to the chair, taking a seat on the couch directly across from her. She searched his face for clues to his state of mind. Was he more angry or depressed? Confused or lucid? She desperately tried to remember everything Doc had told her about dealing with the man who was now her captor.

"I'm sorry to have to do this," he said sadly, almost apologetically. "But there was no other way."

He didn't sound angry, he sounded more depressed. This is good, she thought to herself. Those seemed to be his two main emotions these days and he could change from one to another without warning. Depressed seemed better than angry, at least in this situation. If she could keep him that way she might get out of this. She closed her eyes and listened to Doc.

Don't get mad at him, it will only make things worse.

"No other way to do what?" she asked sweetly, showing no sign of distress or dismay.

"No other way to make him realize what he did to me. No other way to make him feel it," Jed explained.

Kitty took a minute to digest his answer. He blamed Matt for Mavis' death, and he wanted Matt to feel his loss. Was he planning to kill her to prove his point? Help me keep him calm, Doc.

Losing his wife has been devastating to him. Don't be afraid to acknowledge that. You won't be bringing up something he doesn't already think about every day.

"Mavis was a wonderful woman," she said sincerely. "You were married a long time. You must miss her terribly."

Jed looked up at her and his eyes filled with tears. "She was my whole life, Miss Kitty. He took her away, and he doesn't even care."

She bristled at the comment, forcing herself not to shout her reply. No one cared more about what had happened than Matt. She had been beside him during those dreams, comforting him in middle of the night. She had seen the rare display of emotion after Mavis' funeral, as Matt had agonized over what it would be like for Jed once he knew what had happened. But that was the problem—she had seen those things, not Jed. Not anyone else.

She wanted to tell him how wrong he was, about both Matt's feelings and the accident. It wasn't Matt's fault. Whatever Jed thought had happened, he was mistaken. How could she convince him of that? Tread lightly, she warned herself. You know what Doc said.

He believes these things. They may be delusions to everyone else, but to him they are real. Don't tell him he's wrong, it will frustrate and agitate him.

"The accident was a horrible tragedy, Jed," she began carefully. "I don't suppose any of us truly understands what it's been like for you."

"You don't," he agreed, a sudden edge to his voice. "But Matt will. I imagine he already does."

"How so?" she gently prodded.

"I sent a wire to my lawyer, and he probably showed it to him a couple of hours ago," he figured. "When my head began to clear after the accident, I kept asking where Mavis was. And nobody would tell me. I was frantic with worry, and they kept telling me to calm down. Well, you don't calm down when someone you love is in danger. I expect Matt Dillon is on a train right now, frantic with worry over you. Not knowing if you are dead or alive, having no choice but to wait until he gets here to find out."

She had no doubt that Matt was on his way. Which scenario would he find out? There were two ways this could end, and she had to use the only weapon she currently possessed to ensure her safety and Matt's. She had to use her wits.

TBC