Chapter 3

"So Joe Payson caught this guy stealing jewelry from his house, right after our poker game," Nick said as the family talked over dinner. "Joe Payson's a friend of yours. He might not take kindly to you representing somebody charged with robbing him."

Jarrod hadn't told his family anything that Arthur Martin had confessed to him, or any details other than he would try to see the man's wife when he got to San Francisco. "I know he's a friend, Nick, and I won't take the case if it turns out there's some conflict, so don't go worrying about any of it."

"I'm not worried," Nick said. "It just sounds sticky."

"It does that," Victoria agreed. "Does Joe know this Mr. Martin has asked you to represent him?"

"I haven't told him," Jarrod said, "and I'd appreciate it if none of you did either. By this time tomorrow I may not be representing him anyway."

"Is this gonna keep you in San Francisco longer than you planned?" Heath asked. "We were planning on your help when you get back."

"It shouldn't," Jarrod said, "but if I take the case, I'll be busy with it when I get back, so don't necessarily count on me to dig any post holes or anything."

"So in other words, I'd better try to find another hand or two to work for us," Nick said.

Jarrod smiled. "So it'll take two to replace me, huh?"

"I said 'or,'" Nick said.

"I'll only be gone a week, unless something comes up," Jarrod said. "And if I'm not tied up on this case or any other, I will dig post holes or herd cattle or whatever you boys want me to do. How's that?"

"It'll have to do," Nick said.

XXXXX

Jarrod took the early train to San Francisco the next day, leaving the family car behind and opting for just a first class ticket. He did not have to take any work with him, so he had a lot of time to think about Arthur Martin along the way.

It was so curious that he would come all the way to Stockton from San Francisco to rob a house of jewelry. It had to be that he was planning specifically on robbing Joe Payson, but why? Martin promised that everything would become clear once Jarrod talked to his wife in San Francisco, and that piqued Jarrod's interest in that wife. Why couldn't she come to Stockton to bail her husband out? Was she ill or an invalid?

And how did the Martins know about Joe Payson and his late wife's jewelry in the first place? It wasn't like the collection was extensive or famous. Jarrod wasn't familiar with it. He hadn't even known it was worth taking before Arthur Martin took it. The whole thing was very odd.

As the train rolled closer to San Francisco, Jarrod decided he would go to see Mrs. Martin before he even went to his office. Arthur Martin's wife's name was Karen. They lived in a neighborhood that was not well-to-do, even slightly rundown. It was an apartment in a building on the corner of two busy streets – not a lot of peace and quiet around here. Jarrod went up to the big front door, let himself in and found the appropriate apartment just inside on the left. He knocked.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice asked, a cautious voice.

"My name is Jarrod Barkley," Jarrod said. "I'm an attorney. I need to talk to you about your husband. May I come in?"

The door opened slowly, just a crack, and a brown eye peeked out.

Jarrod smiled, removing his hat. "Your husband asked me to come talk to you. He's still in Stockton. May I come in?"

She opened the door somewhat hesitantly, and when Jarrod came in, she kept her back to him. "Is Arthur in trouble?" she asked.

"Yes," Jarrod said. "He got caught stealing some jewelry and he's in jail. I'm hoping it would help if you came to Stockton to see him."

Karen Martin turned around slowly, and Jarrod got the shock of his life. Several shocks, in fact. It was clear she had been a beautiful woman once, but there was a large scar across the right side of her face, the jagged remnants of what looked like a bad injury. She was also standing there using a cane, and Jarrod could see her right leg was bent crookedly under her skirt. He was reminded sharply of some of the wounds he's seen in army hospitals during the war.

But there was one bigger shock. Maybe she was disfigured, but it was perfectly obvious to him that this was not any Karen Martin. "Carol?" he said, the name tumbling out in complete shock.

She said, "Hello, Jarrod."

Jarrod fumbled for words. "Is it really you?"

"Yes," she said. "It's me. Come, sit down."

The room was not lavishly furnished, but there was a sofa. Carol Payson struggled to walk to it, leaning hard on her cane. They sat down together on the sofa and Jarrod reached for Carol's hand, but she would not let him take it. "I thought you were dead," Jarrod said. "Everyone thought you were dead. Joe's been beside himself with grief – "

"I realize that," she said. "I know I need to do some explaining. First of all, Arthur Martin isn't my husband. He's a friend, that's all, one who's become very close to me though."

"Apparently," Jarrod said. "He's been arrested for trying to steal your jewelry."

"For me, at my direction," Carol said. "I couldn't go get it myself. As you can see, I couldn't do that."

Jarrod shook his head. "Everyone thinks you died in that boating accident."

"I was just injured," she said. "Arthur was one of the men who fished me out of the water but my face was badly cut, my leg was mangled. I couldn't let them bring me home to Joe."

"Carol, I don't understand why you thought that."

"Oh, Jarrod, they took me to a charity hospital and the doctors told me I'd be disfigured and crippled. How could I go back to Joe? How could a businessman like him have a wife who couldn't even be seen in public?"

Jarrod understood. She wasn't just being vain.

She went on. "You know about the Ugly Laws. You know if I was seen on the street like this I'd be arrested and maybe put into an alms house or jail, or Joe would be fined for letting me out. People like me, maimed and crippled – they think we're too horrible to be out with normal people and there are laws that prevent me from doing it. I've been shut up in here since the accident. Arthur has been kind and taking care of me and without him I think I would have thrown myself back into the bay."

Jarrod reached for her hand again, and this time was able to take it. "Carol, Joe has been grieving for more than a year."

"He'll grieve and he'll get through it, but not if he has to look at me all the time," Carol said, and her voice was beginning to shake.

Jarrod went to another subject. "Why did you have Arthur steal your jewels? He's put himself in danger of going to prison, you know."

Carol said, "Maybe he's not my husband, but he's been like a brother to me, and I needed the jewels so I could have him sell them. There's a doctor who can at least straighten my leg, if I can find the money to pay for the operation. If I can walk more normally, if I can find a way to cover up this horrible scar – maybe I can go out in public and not be arrested at night when it's dark, at least. That's what the doctor thinks, anyway."

"You gave Arthur my name in case he got into trouble in Stockton."

"Yes," she said, and she squeezed his hand. "I knew I could trust you if things didn't go well. I knew you'd keep my secret and his if we needed you to."

Jarrod thought about everything she had said, everything he was seeing. She was right, that she'd probably be arrested if she were seen in public. Stockton had its Ugly Laws too, laws Jarrod opposed everywhere he saw them but they had taken hold after the war and the wounded came home maimed and crippled. They weren't going anywhere. But Jarrod knew how deeply Joe had grieved over the loss of his wife. He knew how badly that hurt, since he had lost his own. He also knew how glorious it would be for Joe if he knew his wife was alive. He knew how he would feel if suddenly Beth was alive.

"Carol," Jarrod said. "If I'm with you, I think I can get you to Stockton without being arrested."

"No," she said quickly.

"Carol, Arthur is going to go to prison if you don't stand up for him."

"I can't stand up at all!" Carol said. "And I can't have Joe knowing I'm alive like this. You can't tell him I'm alive."

Jarrod's stomach dropped out of him. If he were to find out that Beth was alive, he knew how high his heart would leap and it would be the most wonderful thing that could ever happen. But it would never be. Beth had died in his arms. He could only imagine her alive, and he did, but he didn't want to talk about it. "Carol, Joe's been going through pain that's as bad as your own. You can end his pain in a moment if you just come home with me. And you can ease your pain too."

"And if he rejects me?" Carol said. "If he decides I'm more a liability in his life – " She choked. She couldn't finish.

Jarrod understood that too. It would be horrible if Joe rejected her now. It would kill her if he rejected her now, and he couldn't really guarantee Joe wouldn't turn her away. And she was still right about the most important and nasty part of all this. Just being in public crippled and maimed, in this day and age in California, was illegal. And what would it do to a man like Joe, a prominent businessman who once had a beautiful wife, to have a crippled and maimed wife that everyone pitied him for, that he couldn't even be seen in public with?

Jarrod put his other hand atop both his and hers. "I can't guarantee anything and I won't lie and say that I can. There would be a risk, but I know how bad Joe is hurting. I know how much he loved you. I don't think he would reject you."

"He'd just hide me away," Carol said. "He'd have to. And that would be worse than the way I've had to hide myself away. I can't do it, Jarrod. I can't go to Stockton, and I'm begging you. Don't tell anyone I'm alive. Don't tell Joe I'm alive. I'm not. Carol Payson is dead. Karen Martin is what's left of Carol Payson, and this is all there is of her."

Jarrod said, "Things might be better if your leg can be improved."

"Better, but not enough to be Joe Payson's wife," Carol said. "Arthur Martin's, yes, he's not a prominent businessman. He just runs a little curio shop that barely breaks even because he spends so much time and money helping people like me. Karen Martin can exist, and without a cane and limp, maybe she could even cover her face enough to go out in public after dark now and then. But she can't be Carol Payson, and nothing can be done to turn her back into that woman. Carol Payson is dead."

Jarrod sighed. He understood – but what he wouldn't give to be Joe Payson right now, to find out his wife was still alive. He'd go running to Beth's arms no matter if she couldn't walk straight or had a terrible scar. He'd run to her and hold her and never let go. He thought that, more likely than not, Joe Payson would do the same thing.

But knowing this now, having taken on this task of coming here for Arthur Martin, he now had a secret he had to keep for a client. There just wasn't much he could do – but there was something. "Carol, who is the doctor who can help your leg?"

"His name is Matson. He works at the charity hospital on Market. But I don't have the jewelry to sell to pay him."

"I'd like to talk to him, to see if there's some way I can help you get your leg improved," Jarrod said. He patted her hand. "Let me look into it, at least. I'm a wealthy man. I want to try to do something for you."

Carol began to cry, openly, seriously cry. Jarrod held her close. "That's not what I intended."

"I know it isn't," Jarrod said, "but if I can't reunite you with your husband, please let me try to do something."

Besides, he had an ulterior motive. Karen Martin, with a healed and strong leg, might be more willing to bring Carol Payson back. And if he couldn't bring Beth back for himself, Jarrod at least wanted to try to bring Carol back to Joe.

"All right," Carol agreed. "Go talk to him, and then you and I will talk. But can you get Arthur out of jail? Is there any chance, without revealing me?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. "There may not be any way to do it even if I did reveal you. He did break into Joe's house. But I can try. I will try."