I tried to steady my breathing, but my pulse raced. The hunter game. What if he’d been playing that the night Samuel was killed? Had he been firing his gun to scare his little girl and killed Samuel by mistake? Did he know he did it?
“Did you ever see any other people during your game?” I asked.
“Only once. A man in a black jacket was out by a shed.”
“Did he see you?”
“I think so. He shouted something, but I didn’t stop. I was too afraid.” A shadow of a smile crossed her face. “That night I got away. Pa shot two times, but he didn’t get me. I got to the house and hid under the bed, but he never came home. I fell asleep. The next morning, he was back.”
I drew in a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Was that the same night the bullet whizzed past your ear?”
“No, that was a different time. These shots seemed far away. I was running fast and not looking back because that’s when the enemy will get you, like Pa taught me.”
I got up from the bed and went to the window. This bedroom faced the barn. The doors were open, and I could see Harley brushing the horses. “You’re going to stay with us for a while.”
“I can’t. I need to go to Pa.” She sat up and pushed back the covers. “He’ll beat me real bad if I don’t come home with food.”
“We’ll let him know where you are and that you’re going to be a guest for a few days.”
“But he needs food. I was supposed to bring it back to him.”
“Would you feel better if we took some meals out to him? Would that get you to rest?”
She nodded, but her face remained pinched and worried. “I guess so.”
“Now lie down and close your eyes.”
Louisa turned on her side and tucked her hands under her chin. “This is such a soft bed.” Her eyelids fluttered, then closed. I tucked the covers more securely around her small frame and sat watching her. She twitched as she drifted off to sleep. What would become of this poor, hunted child?
I paced in front of the fireplace as I described to Alexander and Jasper what the little girl had told me. I’d never before seen Jasper sink into anything, always stiff and formal, but for the first time, he collapsed onto a chair. “Dear God,” he said.
“It’s like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe story,” Alexander said. “We have to get her away from that man.”
Neither of them seemed to have grasped the other possibility. “What if they were out in the woods the night Samuel was killed? What if Kellam shot him by accident?”
What was left of Alexander’s color drained from his face. “Kellam’s shack is not far from their property.”
“He might not have even known he did it,” I said.
“There were two shots,” Jasper said. “Aimed right into the middle of his chest.”
“It can’t be accidental then,” Alexander said.
My mind raced ahead of the two men. “Samuel saw them. He saw what he was doing to Louisa. She said Samuel called out to her. Then there was shouting and two gunshots. Kellam shot Samuel because of what he saw.”
“Rachel didn’t hear voices,” Alexander said.
“Didn’t you tell me she was playing the piano?” I asked. “She might not have heard voices, just the gunshots.”
“Yes, and the music room is on the other side of the house,” Alexander said.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“We go into town and tell the sheriff what we know,” Alexander said. “And pray he’ll do something about it this time.”
“Not in this weather,” I said. “We’ll wait until morning. There’s nothing he can do between now and the time this storm passes.”
Chapter 28