Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,84
you said was staying here at your hotel.”
“No. That’s not him. The Adam Browning I know had a completely different look.”
“Come with us now, then,” Uncle Lance said, getting to his feet. “The man they have in jail is this man. He’s there wrongfully, and I want to see him released as soon as possible.”
“I’ll have to speak to my grandfather and make certain he can spare me, but sure. I don’t want someone in jail on my word who isn’t guilty.” Belfast left them and went to the front desk.
Connie was so excited she could hardly keep from giving a yell. “I’m so happy. Mama will be too. This is such great news.”
“Well, we haven’t gotten him released yet. Hopefully soon.” Uncle Lance handed back the picture.
A half hour later, the trio stood in front of a heavyset man who announced himself to be in charge. He listened to what Uncle Lance had to say and then requested to see the picture. Connie handed it over and waited while the officer reviewed it with a magnifying glass.
“That’s him all right,” the man in charge declared. He had already requested his officer bring Connie’s father to his office. Now they waited. “That’s the man we have in jail. You say this doesn’t even look like him?” he asked Belfast.
“No, sir. Not a bit. The other man was bigger—broader in the shoulders. The hair is all wrong too.”
Finally the officer returned, bringing Connie’s father with him. She wanted to throw herself into her father’s arms but saw that he was in shackles. Poor Papa. It was so uncalled for. He was a man of peace.
“Mr. Belfast, is this your Mr. Browning?”
The younger man got up from his chair and turned to face Connie’s father. “No, sir. That’s the man in the photograph, and like I said, that’s not the Adam Browning who signed the ledger at our hotel.”
“There you have it,” Uncle Lance said, turning to the man in charge. “I demand you release my client.”
Connie ignored the police officer and went to her father. She wrapped her arms around him only to have the officer pull her away.
“You can’t touch the prisoner.”
“But he won’t be a prisoner much longer. You heard Mr. Belfast. My father isn’t the right man.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the heavyset man announced. “Your father isn’t only here on charges of murder. He’s also been arrested for supplying the Indians with whiskey and guns. We have two different men who produced signed receipts and said they personally delivered crates of rifles to your father.”
“I assure you they weren’t signed by me,” Connie’s father declared. “I’ve never seen a single crate at the reservation, much less witnessed their delivery and signed for them.”
“It doesn’t really matter what you claim, Mr. Browning.” The heavyset man rose. “It matters what the evidence says.”
Her father stepped forward, but the guard yanked him back. “Even if you don’t believe me, I can prove my signature. Let there be a comparison.”
“We’ll get around to that soon enough. Take him back to his cell.”
“No!” Connie hadn’t meant to cry out, but now that she had, she wasn’t going to take it back. “You can’t lock him up. He’s innocent.”
“That’s for a jury to decide,” the heavyset man said, waving off the officer.
“Let’s go, Browning.” The policeman pulled on her father’s arm.
“I love you, Papa. We’ll get you set free.”
He smiled. “Your uncle Lance can manage this. I need you to take care of your mother. I imagine she’s frantic.”
Connie didn’t want to worry him. “She misses you, but she’s stronger than any of us give her credit for.”
He chuckled. “You both are.”
“Are you sure this is the right direction?” one of the soldiers asked Tom.
“She said the house was located north of the big bend in the river. We’ve come directly north,” Tom replied. “Maybe we should spread out more.”
Isaac pushed his way through the trees and rejoined them. “I haven’t seen anything that looks like foot traffic or crates being dragged.”
“Over here!” another of the soldiers called. “I found a shack.”
The men hurried through the thick vegetation as best they could. Tom prayed that the weapons had finally been located. It would be to everyone’s advantage if they had.
They halted in the trees a few feet away from a clearing. “I never knew this was here,” Isaac said in a hushed whisper.
The clearing was hardly more than twenty feet or so across. To one side, the little shack stood with plenty of prints in