in a gesture of mutual assurance. “I promised to meet Mr. McGowan, try to talk sense with him, but these . . . these violent hallucinations of his about terrible events from his childhood . . .”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but for all my knowledge of human nature, this is quite beyond my abilities to offer a remedy. All we can do now is show compassion . . . and hope the court will too.”
Caden studied each troubled, uncertain face of the whispering men gathered around their unconscious friend. Their words were of disbelief and pity for what Bret McGowan had done but the silence of their deepest fear spoke loudest of all.
After all, how would polite society judge these fine gentlemen? What guilt through association had they already risked if discovered with this murderer still holding the bloody gun in his hand?
Caden glanced up at the open door. Rebecca stood in the moonlit shadows of the threshold, her hand over her mouth. She cried out, reeled, and ran back into the building. Caden grinned. Destiny always keeps her appointments, Mr. McGowan, and so do I.
CHAPTER 20
Friday, September 7, 10:30 p.m.
“Easy there, Hadlee.” Liam put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re not roping a steer.”
Caden and the others watched Hadlee wrap the rope around Bret’s neck. He yanked and tied it to the unconscious man’s hands behind his back. “Three of us couldn’t bring him down,” Hadlee puffed, “and Arley had to cold cock him twice! When he comes to, a fella in his condition, even a friend, might turn around and gore you.” He stood. “Just like a bull.”
“Rebecca has called the police and they will arrive shortly,” Caden informed them. “Please, gentlemen, if you would be so kind to take Mr. McGowan inside.”
He motioned toward the open rear door. “I think there has been enough tragedy for one night and there is no need for any of you to involve yourselves any deeper in this sordid affair.”
Arley turned to him. “Caden? You want us to leave this murderer with you?”
Caden put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Arley, I appreciate your concern, but you must think of the larger significance of this situation. Do you really want your family’s impeccable name and reputation connected in any way to what happened here tonight?”
Liam and Hadlee pivoted on their feet. They stepped away from their insensate friend and stood beside Mr. Caldwell. The men lingered for a breath, as if unable to focus on anything except the raw implication of what they had just heard.
“That’s right, gentlemen,” Caden continued. “All of you have much to risk and nothing to gain by involving yourselves in this troubling occurrence.”
They looked at each other as though waiting for the first reassuring murmur that would allow them to scurry away to their safe beds and wait for the familiar warmth of the next day.
Liam gestured toward the bound man. “But, perhaps we can help Bret. We’re all witnesses to what happened.”
“Are we really, Mr. Dawson?” Caden questioned. “Which one of us can truly say what transpired here tonight?” He stepped over to DeRocha’s corpse. “Each man in his own way happened upon this scene, yet we know how eager the popular press is to embellish the facts and make insinuations that have no basis in truth and serve only to sensationalize their tawdry melodramas for their gullible readers.”
The three men muttered amongst themselves. Hadlee turned and looked down at his unconscious friend. “Maybe you’ve got a point, Doctor,” he said. “The only thing we heard was Bret’s automobile backfiring . . . then someone yelling for help.”
“They could have been arguing,” Liam offered. “DeRocha’s always been jealous of Bret and Gabrielle. Maybe Timothy confronted him. Bret could have shot him in self-defense.”
“If he left the vehicle motor running,” Arley Caldwell said, rubbing his beard. “The shots could have occurred any time and it would have sounded just like his engine backfiring.”
“Or, was he leaving the corpse on our doorstep,” Edward suggested, “hoping to incriminate Doctor Hellreich and the Society?”
“And that, gentlemen, is my point.” Caden walked back and stood beside Edward.
His assistant’s timing was impeccable. Caden could see the seeds of uncertainty taking root in the doubting looks of men who now regretted attending the conveniently arranged private Society meeting this evening. “Any number of things could have occurred between Mr. DeRocha and Mr. McGowan, so, before we rush to any final judgments, I suggest you take my advice and