Where the Law Can’t Follow (Preview)

Chapter One

Evelyn needed a bit of luck.

Not a lot of luck. Not the sort of luck shipwreck survivors experienced. Not find-a-gold-coin-in-the-dirt luck. She needed just enough luck for a decent head start. 

With a decent head start, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught by Raymond. Getting caught by Raymond would be very, very, very bad. 

A bit of luck.

She folded her second-best dress and added it to her side of the suitcase. Her best dress was still hanging in the closet. 

That was a ruse. When Raymond saw that, he wouldn’t immediately jump on his horse and come after her. What woman left her best dress behind? He would find the dress, some undergarments, her favorite hairbrush, and the cologne he had given her for her birthday. That would stifle his fear of her being gone for good. 

Oh, the note.

She had almost forgotten the note. Nothing elaborate, just that she had run over to her aunt’s for some flour. Biscuits needed flour, and there was none in the cabin. She had made sure of that. 

Raymond was no idiot. He would check for flour. He was cunning that way. He had been verifying her whereabouts ever since they were married. She had found it cute in the beginning—he loved her enough to make sure she was safe.

Hah!

He checked up on her because he was certain that she was stepping out on him. She never had, although she’d had many offers. She blamed her auburn hair for that. There was something about red hair that beckoned to men… all men. Red hair matched with green eyes was a description from a Dickens novel. 

She liked Dickens. He wrote about ordinary, poor people like her. 

She looked around the bedroom, making sure she had left enough behind. Fooling Raymond wasn’t easy. She had bruises that testified to that. Satisfied, she turned back to the suitcase on the lopsided bed. She’d asked Raymond more than once for a new mattress. He had always promised but never produced something better. Another reason to run away. 

Her side of the suitcase was filled. The other side, David’s side, was filled, too. She hadn’t needed to leave so much behind where David was concerned. At eleven, he didn’t have a lot, and she wasn’t going to pack the hand-me-downs Raymond had bestowed on the boy. The clothes were too large and reeked of Raymond’s cigars. 

No amount of washing with lye soap could mask the odor of cheap, foul tobacco. She was sick of it. Raymond had promised time and again to switch to a pipe, but he never had. 

He had broken nearly every promise he had ever made. And every time he did, he blamed her.

That was the long and short of it. His failures were her fault. 

In the beginning, he had acknowledged some responsibility for getting fired from a good job, or brawling at the saloon, or betting on the wrong nag at the county fair races. When his run of bad luck didn’t stop, he unloaded his anger on her. 

She was the reason success had never tapped him on the shoulder. She was the reason he had to battle the men she was seeing on the sly. She was millstone that hung around his neck and kept him in the holler instead of the town. She had shattered every dream he had ever had. 

Her fault.

Not anymore. With that bit of luck, he would be rid of her and their son. She had managed to save enough seamstress money for her escape but not much more. She’d wanted to wait another month or two, but she felt the need to go. 

Her fear might have been stoked by the way Raymond looked at her. Or it might have been the questioning of exactly how much money she had earned with her sewing skills. Something had spooked Raymond, despite her best efforts to reassure him. Maybe her smile was the culprit. Being nicer than usual was as telling as being meaner.

She closed the suitcase and buckled the straps that held it together. The old leather case had been bought from a secondhand store in town. With saddle soap, she had massaged the leather until it looked nothing like what she had purchased. She had hidden it in the loft where David slept, under his narrow bed. 

Raymond rarely climbed to the loft, and he never looked under a bed. Cleaning was Evelyn’s work; he’d made that clear from the beginning. She grabbed the suitcase and stopped.

Was she doing the right thing?

Was she trading an unsatisfying but somewhat secure marriage for a leap into the unknown? Not just her but David, too. Was Raymond so bad that they needed to flee?

She remembered a fable her mother had read to her, about a donkey and his master. The donkey was worked hard and so wished for a new master. The wish was granted, and the donkey discovered that the new master was worse than the first. The donkey begged for one more wish, and it was granted. The new master was meaner than the first two. The lesson to be learned? 

Be careful what you wish for. 

Was she rushing headlong from the frying pan into the fire?

She shook her head. Maybe she was being foolish, but it was a risk she had to take. Raymond wasn’t going to get better. His jealousy and anger would only grow worse. She had decided to burn the bridge behind her. 

So be it. 

Jaw set, resolve reinforced, she left the bedroom.

“Going somewhere?”

The mocking voice was unmistakable. It chilled her heart and stopped her in her tracks. She turned, not smiling. A smile would betray her.

“Aunt fell. I’m taking David, and we’re going there for a couple of days. Just till she can get by on her own. I left a note.”

She recognized his sneer. He didn’t believe her, not for an instant. His dark, bloodshot eyes said he had been drinking. Brushing back his unruly mustache, he sidled toward her. With dirty clothes and dirty hands, he stank of sweat and cigar smoke. His pistol was tucked into his pants. The holster for it had been lost in a poker game.

“Note said nothin’ about her fallin’.”

“I was in a hurry. She’s hurt.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“You’re drunk. We’ll talk when I come back and you sober up.”

She watched his hand, expecting the slap to her cheek. But he didn’t slap her face. He knocked the suitcase from her hand.

“What in tarnation are you doing?”

“Shut up, woman!”  He snatched up the suitcase and slammed it on the table. “Let’s see what we got here.”

“Just clothes, ya damn fool.”

The backhand caught her unawares. Pain shot up her jaw as she staggered away.

“I told you to shut up!”

She glared, anger bubbling up inside. “You hit me again and you’re going to regret it.”

“What you gonna do? Cry? Go ahead and cry. ’Cause I have half a mind to mess up that pretty face so that fella you’re seein’ will send you right back here!”

“I’m warning you.”

He turned away from the suitcase. “Why you got your purse? You don’t need a purse to go to your aunt’s.”

“I always take a purse.”

“More lies!”  He moved toward her. “Who is he? Who you makin’ yourself pretty for?”

“You got the devil in you, Raymond Tate. Stay away from me!”

He swung at her again, but she ducked and moved away.

“Don’t you run from me! You know what that does to me!”

“You’re being a fool, and I ain’t gonna take it! Now get out of my way!”

“Stupid wench! You’re gonna hurt from stem to stern when I’m done with ya!”

Evelyn managed to dodge two lunges, but she knew she couldn’t avoid him for long. And she sure as hell couldn’t run out without her suitcase and purse. Somehow, she had to get him to quiet down or hit him over the head with something. 

She looked around. The iron skillet was on the stove. If she could manage to grab that…

He panted, sweating. She knew it was the alcohol leaking out his skin. She had played this game before, and she always lost. But she couldn’t lose this time. God, she wished she wasn’t wearing a dress. Men always had an advantage.

She faked to one side, and he jumped to block her. That was when she ran to the stove and grabbed the skillet. As she turned, she swung the skillet hard, knowing he was after her.

The skillet slammed into Raymond’s upraised arm. She heard the crack of a bone breaking. Raymond howled.

He hopped away as she backed up. She had never injured him before, and she wasn’t sure what to do. He bellowed and rubbed his arm, cursing like a man who had just been kicked by a horse. 

The door opened. David stepped inside.

“Get out!” Raymond’s anger was beyond anything Evelyn had ever seen. “Get out, boy, before you get what she’s gonna get!”

David looked at her, and she nodded. “Go!”

She saw the doubt in David’s eyes, but he did what he was told. The door closed behind him.

Raymond placed himself between her and the door. 

“Get out of my way, or I’ll break your other arm.”

“When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to break an egg.”

Evelyn panted, her hair askew, her anger-fueled energy ebbing. She was no match for Raymond, even if he did have but one good arm. She couldn’t carry the fight to him. Maybe there was another way out.

“Raymond, we have to stop. We keep going and one of us is going to get hurt bad.”

“That’s you, missy.”

“Don’t make this worse than it already is. You saw David. He’s scared to death. Us fightin’ is only going to do more harm.”

“You think I’m just gonna step aside and let you give yourself to another man? What kinda man do you think I am?”

“I think you was kind and gentle once upon a time. And you wanted what was best for us both.”

She spotted a flicker of doubt in those dark eyes. Maybe he could be reasoned with.

“Remember how it was? We was good in the beginning. We was close, you and me. We did right by each other. You know we can’t go on like this. Me leaving is best for both of us.”

He bowed his head, as if in prayer. She took that as a good sign.

“I want you to find happiness, and I think you want that for me.” She laid the skillet on the stove. “We don’t want David seein’ us fighting like she-cats.”

She edged toward her suitcase, watching him, trying not to set him off again. The stench of him rolled over her, and she fought the urge to gag. If she could just get her purse and suitcase, she would be gone in seconds. But she couldn’t run. He was like a wounded bull. If she ran, he’d come for her. 

She found her purse and slipped to the suitcase on the table. Breathing fast, she grabbed the suitcase and started past.

He didn’t move

She wanted to shout “Hallelujah,” but she didn’t dare. 

One more step.

That was when he grabbed her hair.

A scream escaped her mouth as he jerked her back and threw her to the hard wooden floor. The thump left her helpless for a second, allowing him to drop a knee into her stomach. Air rushed out. She blinked as his fist smashed into her jaw.

“Worthless slut.”

He grabbed her hair and slammed her head on the floor. Stars danced in her vision. 

He meant to kill her. She felt his good hand grip her throat and squeeze.

“After I’m done with you, I’ll do the boy. He’s worthless, too.”

Weak, her blows on his arm did no good. He grinned through the stars and dark surrounding her vision. She tried to kick, but she had no power. 

Then she remembered the pistol.

She fumbled with his pants, knowing that his one good hand was in use. Panic drove her as she jerked the pistol free. If he felt her, it didn’t show. 

She didn’t have time to aim. She raised the barrel and fired.

 

Chapter Two

For a few seconds, Evelyn thought the bullet had missed. Black blobs swam across her vision, and her fingers searched for the pistol without success. Then the fingers on her throat loosened. Raymond tipped to one side and rolled off her. 

She gasped, drawing in a gunpowder-laced breath that stung her throat. The acrid smell filled her nose. Desperate, weak, she rolled away from him and struggled to her knees. That was when she spotted the blood.

Lots of blood.

For a moment, she thought it might be her blood, as her dress bore red stains. But she felt no pain. That was when she knew it was Raymond’s. 

While she wanted to get away, she hadn’t meant for him to die. 

She crawled to him and jerked loose his shirt. His undergarment showed a large hole that spurted blood. Without thinking, she tried to staunch the flow. 

Blood slipped through her fingers. She was fighting a hopeless battle. She used the sleeve of her dress to help, but it did nothing but soak up more blood. 

“Don’t, Raymond, don’t die.”

Her voice sounded hoarse. The words pained her throat. Worse, the admonition did no good.

“Bitch.”  

It was a whisper, the last word of a man she had once loved. Seconds later, Raymond stopped breathing. Blood stopped coursing between her fingers. Death had come for Raymond. 

While Evelyn knew he deserved his fate, she still felt bad. She had never considered herself a killer. 

Still a bit wobbly, she scooted away from him and simply stared. 

What was she to do?

She couldn’t call for the sheriff. While he might believe Raymond had attacked her, the sheriff and a jury of men weren’t going to let her off the hook. Wives who killed their husbands were not praised or even tolerated. They might not hang, but they would get sent away. 

No, the authorities were out of the question. She had David to protect. She couldn’t stand trial.

David.

He was outside. He had, no doubt, heard the yelling and the gunshot. He probably thought she was dead, as Raymond was bigger and stronger and had a pistol. She couldn’t abide that. Struggling, she pulled herself to her feet and half stumbled out the door.

David stood by the horses. Fear stretched his face. “Mama?”

She looked at her hands and sleeve, the blood blots on her dress.

“No, David, it’s not mine.” 

She held out her arms, and he came to her. Though tall and lean, he wasn’t yet a man. She hugged him and spoke into his ear.

“We got to get out of here. Your daddy’s been shot. Now, you make sure the horses are ready. I’m going back in to tidy up a bit. Don’t be afeared, David. We’re going to be alright.”

She held him for several more seconds before she turned and reentered the cabin. While the cabin had been a place of pain for her, she was thankful that it was far away from any neighbors. She doubted anyone had heard the muffled gunshot. 

Since Raymond didn’t suffer from an overabundance of friends, his body wouldn’t be discovered for days, maybe weeks. That would give her time to find another home far from the hills of southern Indiana. 

Raymond hadn’t moved, a favorable sign. She grabbed a worn blanket from her bedroom and laid it over the body. She wasn’t terribly superstitious, but she still didn’t like his dead eyes following her about. 

Stripping off her dress, she splashed water from an ewer over her hands. Then she fetched her best dress from the closet. She no longer had a need to use it as a ploy. She tossed her stained dress into the potbelly stove and set it on fire. Maybe that would cause the sheriff a moment or two of doubt. 

Probably not.

Satisfied that she had done all she could, she grabbed her purse and suitcase. A last look at the blanket gave her an idea. She dropped her things and returned the blanket to the bedroom. With any luck, the sheriff would reason that Raymond had accidentally shot himself. Since she hadn’t been there to save him, she was innocent. 

Did that make sense?

It was as good an explanation as the truth. If someone did question her, all she had to do was change the time of her departure. Even as she grabbed the suitcase, she was pretty sure that version of events wouldn’t hold water. 

She had no choice. She had to get David and herself as far from the cabin as possible.

David stood beside the horses. His expression said he needed some sort of explanation. Evelyn decided she had to satisfy some of his questions.

“We’re leaving, and we ain’t coming back.”

“Daddy?”

“He’s staying here. I’ll explain everything once were safe away. For the moment, you got to trust me, David. Running is the best thing we can do.”

“Is he comin’ after us?”

“No, that won’t happen. You can rest assured of that.”

She hugged him. They had a long adventure ahead of them. 

“Until we’re well away, don’t say a word to anyone. Hear me? We’ll settle on a good story later. Say a prayer that God will guide us to safety.”

“Yes, Mama. I’ll pray good.”

They climbed onto their horses. Evelyn anticipated that the journey would ruin her best dress, but that couldn’t be helped. With a last glance over her shoulder to make sure Raymond’s ghost wasn’t trailing them, she clucked to her horse. 

Her flight began. She commended her spirit to God and the angels, praying that they would look over her and David. The nearest rail station was in Cincinnati. With luck, they would reach it before dark.

Despite her need for speed, Evelyn spared the horses. The last thing she needed was to be noted for trying to get away. If anyone asked, she was prepared to tell them that she was visiting her cousin in Gary, Indiana. That explained the tickets she’d bought for a train to Chicago. 

She didn’t try to sell the horses, as that would be a signal that she wasn’t coming back. Instead, she paid for a week’s boarding. When she disappeared, the stable master would sell the horses. That would muddy the water even more. 

Darkness arrived before they reached Cincinnati. The train car was mostly empty, which gave her a chance to explain things to David. Evelyn didn’t relish the task, but she needed to bring him into the fold. He had to know the reason they couldn’t discuss…Raymond.

“David, I want to explain what happened at the cabin. If I could, I would spare you this knowledge, but it’s important that you and I tell the same tale. You understand that, don’t you?”

He nodded. Evelyn read the emotion in the tearing of his eyes. At eleven, he possessed a sensitivity she didn’t find in older boys or men, and she had hoped to spare him some pain. That was impossible now. While she hated imparting the truth to her son, he had to learn what being a man was all about. It was for his own good.

“Your father is dead. That’s the be-all and end-all of what happened. He was choking me, trying to kill me, and I managed to fire the pistol in his britches. He bled out before I could stop it. You understand?”

“You was fightin’?”

“We were. He didn’t want us to leave. I did what I had to do.”

“Did he…”

“Suffer? Some, I guess, but not for long. And I was convinced that once he done me, he was going to do you, too. He couldn’t very well leave one of us alive.”

David nodded. “That makes sense.”

“You know what kind of man your father was. Not a good man or a kind man. You can blame me for choosing a man what didn’t have a caring bone in his body.”

“I don’t blame you, Mama. He worked his pain on me, too.”

“I know, despite how I tried to stop him. He won’t do that again to anyone. You have to remember that.” She reached out and took his hands. “Now that I’ve said all that, you have to forget you ever heard it.”

David blinked and drew back. “Forget?”

“Forget. Erase it from your memory. This is what you have to tell everyone who asks. We left before your daddy came home. We have no idea how he died. In fact, unless someone tells you, you’re going to allow that he’s still alive.”

“Pretend he’s not dead?”

“That’s the God’s truth. He left us. We couldn’t manage things in Indiana, so we started west. There’s a lot of open territory west of St. Louis. We’re headed there because we need a new start. Maybe your daddy will come for us, and maybe he won’t. You and me can’t worry about that. We have a new life ahead. We’re not looking back.”

“But he’s never going to come.”

“Not no way, not no how.”

“I have no recollection of what happened at the cabin. When we left, it was empty.”

“That’s right. I’m not asking you to lie and say things was sugar between him and us. We had a falling out. We had to move on. He didn’t like it, but it was best.”

“That’s all I got to say?”

“That’s it. Think you can remember?”

“I’ll remember, Mama.”

“Good. Your daddy was not a well-liked man. So I don’t know if anyone will come looking for us. The less we say about what happened, the better. It’s easy to say too much and difficult to say too little.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good. Now get some sleep. When we reach Chicago, we’re going to switch trains and go to St. Louis. From there, we’ll find another way west. I don’t yet know where we’ll light down. We will trust on the good Lord to guide us.”

David nodded and closed his eyes. 

A wave of exhaustion washed over Evelyn. The excitement of Raymond’s death had run out of steam. She was fatigued. Yet she wasn’t quite ready for sleep. No matter how she told the story, a lawman would press her until she made a mistake. A mistake would land her in court. Court might land her in…

She didn’t want to contemplate where she might end up.

The mostly empty car smelled of onions and people in need of cologne. She wasn’t sure where the onion odor came from, but many riders brought food with them. Staring out the window into the darkness, she felt a sadness fill her. 

She had never intended for Raymond to die. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve a violent death; by most judgments, he could expect little else. Still, he had been her husband. She had been raised to accept the bad with the good. She had no cause to celebrate his demise.

Her mind drifted. While she didn’t sleep, she did enter that space filled with inattention. Her brain slowed. Her vision hazed over. Her heart rate dropped. If needed, she could become instantly alert—and she would need to be once she reached Chicago. 

She had never been there before, and if rumors were of any value, Chicago was filled with men and women who feasted on travelers. She was the country mouse coming to the big city. She told herself she would question any overture that offered help. Not every hand was a helping one.

Where was she going?

To the west were the territories. The stories about them were legend. Gold, buffalo, Indians, wolves, rattlers—she had absorbed any number of tales told by journalists venturing into the rough-and-tumble. Every man wore a pistol. Every woman could shoot a fly off a horses hide and not harm the horse. 

How much of that was true? 

She woke David as they entered Chicago, a huge city compared to what they were accustomed to. They found a bench in the station, as the next train for St. Louis was several hours away. She had David stretch out, his head on her bag. He fell asleep, even as he promised to stay awake. 

An hour later, the man’s voice made her jump.

Raymond.

No, it couldn’t be Raymond. He was dead.

Kenneth.

Raymond’s older brother had the same voice.

Her heart beat fast as she turned halfway around.