Chapter Ten

Captain Baedon Riley returned to his office carrying a sheaf of yellow papers. "It appears Marshal Dillon here has been burning up the telegraph wires—with some very enlightening results, I might add." He threw the papers down on his desk and turned to the man who had accompanied Matt and Kitty to police headquarters. "You say you killed a man—William Henderson—to be specific, three years ago in Mississippi.

Joseph nodded.

Riley lifted a telegram from the top of the pile. "According to the doctor who treated Henderson for a fatal gunshot wound to the chest, he was very much alive an entire week after the date you claim the murder took place. He did, however, have a secondary wound that shattered his right femur—a wound Henderson claimed happened a week earlier. And the doctor concurred. So, Mr. Beaumont, you may have shot and injured Henderson, rendered him helpless, even, but you are not responsible for his death."

Kitty gasped and turned to look at Matt, who stood silently by the window watching the proceedings with interest.

Riley turned and addressed Kitty. "In the eyes of the law, the only thing Joseph Beaumont is guilty of is your abduction, Miss Russell, from the Market Street train station. Do you want to prefer charges against him?"

Kitty shook her head. "No. Joseph was as much a victim of Maurice Dupré's warped mind as I was. He was kind to me, and, in fact, tried to help me." She looked across the room and smiled fondly at the man who had, in an odd sort of way, become her ally during all the days of her imprisonment. "I just want to wish him luck and see him return to his family—where he belongs."

"That can be arranged," Riley replied and opened the door for a sergeant to bring in a handcuffed Maurice Dupré. Riley suppressed a smile as Dillon moved for the first time, crossing the room in two long strides to stand behind Kitty's chair, a supporting hand briefly touching her back.

"Mr. Maurice Dupré has already confessed to the murder in Abilene, Kansas, of his brother, Alain Dupré, as well as to the murder of one William Henderson in Mississippi three years ago. The courts will deal with these matters in due time. However, Miss Russell, he is also guilty of orchestrating your abduction and holding you hostage. This is a crime, of a lesser degree than murder, but a crime nonetheless. I now ask if you wish to prefer charges against Maurice Dupré."

Kitty hesitated. "Before I answer, can you explain exactly what would be involved?"

Riley nodded. "If you prefer charges, you will need to remain here—or return—until a jury can be convened and a trial can take place. The jury will then determine Dupré's guilt or innocence. Sentencing will, of course, depend on the verdict. If, on the other hand, you choose not to press charges against him, he will be extradited to Kansas immediately to stand trial and be sentenced for his brother's murder. And there is, of course, the matter of the earlier murder in Mississippi. The two states can work out those details between themselves. What is your preference, Miss Russell?"

Kitty squared her shoulders. "In that case, I won't press charges against him. I'm well aware of what he did to me, and I don't need a jury to confirm that he did it. It's more important that he be sentenced for Alain's murder than for my kidnapping." She turned and focused her eyes directly on Maurice Dupré, revulsion clear in their sapphire depths. "You may have mocked and maligned him, Maurice, but your brother was more of a man than you ever were—or ever will be."

xxxxx

That night Kitty nestled into Matt's arms. "Thank God that nightmare is over."

"I was real proud of you today, Kitty." He kissed her temple. "I was kinda worried when they brought Dupré in, but…"

"I'm not afraid of him, Matt, just repulsed by him."

He laughed. "No, I was worried for him," he teased. "I saw the look in your eyes, and I was afraid you might tear him limb from limb."

"Don't think the idea didn't cross my mind."

He slid her off his chest and turned them on to their sides so he could face her, his hand resting on her waist. "You know, there's still the matter of The Lucky Kitty. The authorities are reviewing the paper work to see if your name is on anything."

"I doubt it—things were just in the talking stage. I never signed anything, and I didn't give Alain any money. In fact, he never even asked me for any."

"Just the same, you need to know where you stand legally."

"I don't want it, Matt, and I don't want to have anything to do with it. Too many bad memories."

"All right, we'll take care of it tomorrow." His hand stroked her hip. "I should have said this earlier, Kitty…I really am sorry about your friend."

"I'm sorry, too…about Alain. I was young when we met, but even then I knew he was a good man, and he deserved so much better."

"And I'm sorry your dream didn't work out for you."

"That's the way it is with dreams, Matt. When one dream doesn't come true…well, we just make a new one." She pressed closer to his body. "You've never talked about your childhood dreams, Matt."

"I…I don't guess I ever thought about things like that, Kitty. And now…well…"

"I know, Matt, I know." A sudden sadness swept over her; she understood only too well that he wasn't one to dream of a future he never expected to have. Changing the subject, she said, "What I told Captain Riley today isn't entirely true. It's not just that I don't want to tell my story to a jury. Even more—I don't want to stay around for a trial. Let's go home, Matt. Soon."

"Home? You mean to dusty, dull and boring Dodge…where there's nothing to do?"

"It may be dusty and dull, but it's where you are." She smiled. "And from now on, that's home to me." Then she shifted in his arms until she was lying beneath him, aligning her hips with his and tugging his powerful frame down to hers. She felt his breath tickle her skin as his mouth teased her breasts and traced a slow, scorching path down her stomach. She writhed with pleasure when she felt his hand delve into the warm, moist recess between her thighs, deliciously torturing her sensitive flesh with calloused fingertips. She watched him brace himself on his elbows, and she gave a soft gasp of pleasure when he entered her, wrapping her legs around his back and rocking with him, pulling him closer, deeper into the center of her being. And when, at last, their mingled cries of ecstasy resounded in the night, she held him close, whispering his name. Later, as he slept in the circle of her left arm, she dropped a kiss on his shoulder and pushed the damp curls back from his forehead, speaking softly into the dark. "This is my dream now—to spend the rest of my life in your arms."

TBC