Chapter 28
Violet could have dropped in place by the time she walked in the front door.
But dropping wasn’t an option.
First, she had to deal with Lin. She could not put off having the discussion.
She slipped out of her coat and hung it on the hook inside the door. Unwinding her scarf and removing her hat required one functional hand, and taking the glove off her left went smoothly when she bit the fingertips and tugged. The bare, swollen right hand stuck out of the sling.
The boots were a task she would have preferred not to undertake. The small black buttons took ages to unfasten one-handedly but eventually she got her feet out of them and into her house moccasins.
A nap would have gone over well, but it would have to wait.
Lin sat at the kitchen table, so engrossed in the McGuffey reader that she didn’t look up when Violet walked into the room.
“Your concentration skills are admirable.”
The woman raised her gaze with a smile on her face. It froze there when she saw the wrapped arm, swollen hand, and trace of blood on Violet’s chin.
“You hurt? How? How you hurt?” Lin stood and put her hands out as if to help her friend, but she let them fall. “Where? Where to touch so I don’t hurt you?”
“It’s fine.” She dropped into the chair that Lin pulled away from the table for her. When her guest went to the stove and put the kettle on, she didn’t protest. A nice cup of tea would be soothing. Funny, how a cup of water that had leaves soaking in it made such a difference in one’s outlook.
Violet waited until Lin served tea. When both cups were poured and she had declined a biscuit with jam, she held a hand out to the vacant chair.
“Lin, please sit. We need to talk.”
Her guest’s eyes grew more guarded than they were under normal conditions. Violet noticed her lower lip quivered before she pulled herself together. Lin sat and folded her hands on the table. The posture showed she had grown accustomed to hearing unpleasant news.
Violet took a deep breath and sighed it out. She reached her left hand into her skirt pocket and removed the piece of paper. She handed it across the table and watched the other woman uncrumple it.
Lin stared down at the likeness. The artist had probably been given a verbal description and had drawn from that. The product looked enough like Lin that even though she could not read the English words on the poster, she saw the truth of it.
“That’s a Wanted poster. I took it off the board at the mercantile. Do you know what a Wanted poster is?”
Lin closed her eyes for a long moment. She opened them, met Violet’s gaze, and nodded.
“Yes, I know.”
“Do you know why you’re being sought by the sheriff?”
Another nod.
“So you know you’re wanted for murder? And you didn’t tell me?”
Lin’s forehead wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. She dipped her chin to her chest. Then her eyes widened, and she shook her head so hard her braid whipped over her shoulder. “No! No—no murder! No, not me.”
She believed her. The thought that she would murder someone, especially her own brother, hadn’t set well with Violet. But she’d had to see what kind of response the accusation brought. Lin’s innocent eyes told the story.
But why, then, did she not seem surprised by the Wanted poster? Lin accepted it, almost as if she expected to be found out…but about what?
“This poster says you’re wanted in connection with the murder of Sun Zhiang. Do you know that person?”
“Zhiang my brother.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No. I no kill—he my brother!” A tear slid down Lin’s cheek. “I no kill.”
Violet could not bear the grief in the other’s eyes. She went on in a gentler tone. “Do you know who killed your brother?”
Nodding, Lin answered, “Bad man. Very bad man.”
“Do you know what he looks like?”
When Lin hesitated, Violet saw fear in her expression. “You need to trust me. I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.”
A sip of tea for each of them, and a few moments to find strength for the one who would need it most. Violet could tell the story Lin prepared to relate—because in her heart she felt they were close enough that she would confide in her—would not be pretty.
Then Lin began to speak, and Violet had a difficult time keeping from asking her to stop. The horrors were overwhelming, and much worse than she feared.