Chapter 8

Jarrod went to his client's house, hoping he'd find him home on a Sunday afternoon. Al Bolen was a man Jarrod's age, widowed when his wife died giving birth to a child who was stillborn eight years earlier. That left Bolen with no one in this world, so he put his efforts into his business.

His business was importing whiskey from Kentucky and Tennessee. After the war ended, the alcohol industry in those states was climbing back up, and for Bolen business was good. Until a local distributor accused him of fraud, claiming the whiskey did not come from Kentucky or Tennessee and Bolen had been overcharging him for years on whiskey that really came from two distilleries in Colorado. It should have been a simple case, easy to prove, but the plaintiff was full of surprises, including – so Bolen said – forged documents showing where the whiskey originated. Business hadn't been so great for that distributor and Jarrod knew a pure money grab when he saw it, but Jarrod suspected that neither Switzer nor his client were above fabricating evidence. And now, perhaps, intimidating witnesses.

Bolen looked surprised to find Jarrod at his front door. "Counselor! Is something happening?"

"Yes," Jarrod said. "May I come in? We need to talk."

Bolen let him inside. Bolen's home was like Jarrod's, a townhome in a nice part of town, but Bolen had no houseman and the place showed it. Right now, pieces of newspaper were strewn all over the place. Bolen didn't even attempt to pick it up.

Jarrod got right into things. "I've gotten wind that Switzer had a little powwow last night with a man named A. J. Bonaventure."

Jarrod stopped, because Bolen's face turned dark and ugly.

"You know who he is," Jarrod said.

Bolen nodded. "Come in. Let me pour you a drink. Have a seat."

Bolen went to his refreshment table and soon had a glass of whiskey for his attorney. As Jarrod took the glass, he noticed Bolen already had a glass of his own half consumed, sitting on a small table beside an armchair he sat down in now.

Jarrod said, "Tell me how you know him."

"He went to prison for assaulting Edith," Bolen said.

"Can you give me the details?"

Bolen grunted. "We couldn't prove the elements necessary to convict him on rape. A jury convicted him of simple assault and he was sentenced to two years. Not enough by a long shot."

"I need to know some things," Jarrod said. "You just said 'we' couldn't prove rape. Have you been completely forthcoming with me about Edith Settle?"

Jarrod leveled those piercing blue eyes on his client. Edith Settle was Bolen's clerk and Jarrod was planning on having her testify to the legitimacy and authenticity of the documents involving the importation of the whiskey from Kentucky and Tennessee. Jarrod had begun to think she wasn't just his clerk.

Bolen kept looking straight at Jarrod as he said, "Edith and I have been involved for years. We've kept it very low key. Bonaventure was a deliveryman for one of the distributors I worked with, and he tried to get Edith – well, he had interests in her that she didn't have in him. I caught him attacking her. I was the main witness at his trial."

Jarrod sat back, thinking. "Is there any reason you can think of that he'd want to get involved in this case?"

"Revenge on me, or money," Bolen said. "He must be getting paid, but Jarrod – what they might think he could accomplish, I don't know."

"Intimidating the witness," Jarrod said. "Frighten her enough to keep her from testifying."

"I could testify just as well."

"Yes and no. Edith is the keeper of the records for you. She's the one who actually handled them, and she's the one who can authenticate them. You can't do that. You never even saw them until this case came up, did you?"

"No," Bolen admitted. "I trusted Edith with everything. Jarrod, I can't let her get caught up in this any more than she already is. If Bonaventure gets anywhere near her or this case – you have no idea when he did to her before. I can't let that happen again."

"I understand," Jarrod said, "and it could be that an offer to settle is about to come up. How much are you willing to pay to keep Edith from being shoved down this road – and if the two of you are involved, shouldn't you be consulting her about it? I understand how frightened she could be, but she has a big fat interest in this too. Maybe you should talk to her."

"I hate to upset her, but you're right," Bolen said. "I'll go see her now. She should be all right at home tonight, don't you think?"

Jarrod knew Edith lived in a boarding house. Bonaventure going after her when she wasn't alone wasn't likely. He nodded.

Bolen added, "But Jarrod, I want protection for her."

Jarrod nodded again. "I'll contact Pinkerton tonight and get somebody to be with her first thing tomorrow morning."

Bolen nodded and finished off his drink. Jarrod downed his, too and they parted company.

XXXXXX

Nick and Heath came into the house at about five, looking grubby and smelling like cattle. Nick would have yelled a greeting, but he saw his mother in the living room on the settee with a young woman he didn't know. Then Eugene, in one of the armchairs that faced the settee, turned around and looked to see who had come in.

"Well, well," Nick said and went into the living room. "Looks like our prize student is home for a visit. I thought you were in San Francisco, Gene."

Eugene stood up, and Nick and Heath both saw Audra was in the other armchair and tea service was on the coffee table before them. Eugene said, "Nick, Heath – this is Donna McCoy. Donna, these are my older brothers."

"How do you do?" Heath asked.

Nick said, "It's nice to meet you."

Victoria quickly said, "Miss McCoy is involved with Jarrod's case in San Francisco and needed someplace safe to get away for a few days."

Nick and Heath both understood immediately, even if they didn't have the details. They really didn't need or want them. Heath said, "Well, you can't get any safer than here. Nick, I'm gonna beat you to the bath," and he turned and hustled off up the stairs.

"And you're going to at least wash up and change clothes before you sit on my furniture," Victoria said.

Nick bowed, deferring. "I'll be back when I'm more presentable."

Nick headed up the stairs too.

"They won't ask any more questions unless they have to," Audra said.

"This isn't the first time we've had the company of one of Jarrod's witnesses," Victoria said.

Eugene and Donna had declined to explain much about Donna's involvement in Jarrod's case. All they said was that she had seen something that might affect one of Jarrod's witnesses, and Jarrod wanted her safe and out of the way until that witness testified. Everyone in the family had a general idea that Jarrod's case was a business claim about whiskey distribution, but honestly, as soon as he said that much about it, everyone lost interest.

"We can show Donna around the ranch a bit tomorrow, Gene," Audra suggested.

"Donna doesn't ride," Eugene said.

"I've never left San Francisco before," Donna said, "and I've had no need to ever learn to ride a horse."

"It's not hard," Eugene said.

"We have a couple very gentle mares," Victoria offered. "If you'd like to learn a little, I'm sure Eugene and Audra will be happy to teach you."

"And I have clothes you can borrow," Audra said. "I've never had a sister, Donna. When we have a female guest, I like to take advantage of it."

Donna laughed a little. "I've never had a sister either. I'm not sure how to act like one."

Eugene said, "Wait! What the saddle soap could be so hard about that? If Audra could learn it – "

By now, Donna was laughing harder and Victoria and Audra were looking perplexed about what the saddle soap. Donna said, "Something you need to take care of a saddle?"

Eugene grinned. "I was keeping it simple. I've never conducted the game before, so I have learning to do too."

"What game?" Audra asked.

Eugene chuckled. "That's going to take a bit of explaining."