“Jake, when we go before a judge you can’t be in the kind of mood you just showed me,” Peter told him. “You can tell the judge what you just told me because it’s very touching and helps people understand, but you can’t say it with that dark, menacing way you have about you when you’re upset. And you shouldn’t mention that you would have killed the rest of the men left alive back at Dune Hollow if it weren’t for Evie. That just makes you look more ruthless.” He shook his head. “Not that you aren’t ruthless at times.”
“A judge? Do you know something I don’t?”
“Jake, we’ve already talked to a prosecutor and a judge about this,” Jeff told him.
Jake straightened in a defensive mode. “I hope the prosecutor you talked to wasn’t Harley Wicks,” he said with obvious anger. “This is partly his fault.”
Peter always felt nervous around an angry Jake Harkner wearing six-guns. He ran a hand through his hair. “Jake, you are less intimidating when you sit, so please do me that favor. I can tell you’re getting worked up again, and you need to learn to control that for what I have planned. If you will sit back down I’ll explain. And no, it wasn’t Wicks.”
With a deep sigh, Jake walked back to the bed and sat down next to Randy.
Peter met his gaze sternly. “Have you forgotten I’m actually good at what I do? And I know you all too well, Jake. Jeff got the scoop on what happened and what Wicks had to do with it, so I talked to a different prosecutor. With the help of a young attorney here in Denver named Hawk Monroe, I got this whole thing removed from Wicks’s control. And Mr. Monroe helped me gain permission to practice here in Colorado so I can represent you.”
Randy let out a little gasp. “Thank you, Peter!”
“I’ve heard of Hawk Monroe,” Jake told him.
“There is a book about the Monroe family here in Colorado. It’s called Savage Destiny. The Monroe name is well known here. The father, Zeke, was half Cheyenne and very involved with the Indian problems here years ago. He once owned quite a big ranch in southern Colorado. Hawk Monroe is his grandson. He had to go out of town, or I would have brought him with me to meet you. Be that as it may, I can represent you if that’s what you want, Jake.”
Their gazes held in mutual understanding. “You helped me get out of that job from hell in Oklahoma so Randy and I could find some peace in Colorado, Peter, but peace doesn’t seem to last long wherever I go. And I do know you’re good at what you do, so yes, your help is welcome. Like you said, you know me better than most men, so maybe you know a way to keep this from looking as bad as it really is.”
“Peter, Harley Wicks’s sister let Mike Holt into the dance that night,” Randy explained, “hoping to cause a ruckus and get Jake kicked out or in trouble for fighting. She said she didn’t know Holt had a gun. I don’t know if that’s true or not.”
“I heard,” Peter told her. “That’s how I got Wicks off the case.” He turned his attention to Jake. “I told Wicks that if he backed off of this, you and Lloyd won’t press charges against his sister for letting that man into the ballroom.”
Jake nodded, suddenly rising and wiping at tears. “I’m sorry, Peter. The last four days have been a nightmare. Seeing Lloyd lying near death just about put me in my own grave.”
“I understand completely, believe me. It would be the same for Lloyd if it had happened to you. I saw him after you were shot in Guthrie, and he was devastated. I know how close you two are. The bond is admirable, and it might help you in this.”
Peter shuffled through some handwritten notes while Jake stood at a window and lit yet another cigarette.
Jeff got up and poured more coffee for everyone.
“Like I said, I spoke with a prosecutor named Randall Prescott,” Peter continued, “and I consulted with a judge. Both agreed to hold a hearing, not a trial. The public can be there, but there won’t be a jury. The judge will decide whether or not to actually bring charges against you. He said he can’t just let you off without some kind of chance for others to have their say and without some kind of public explanation. It wouldn’t look right, and judges are voted in, so he obviously wants to please the citizens of Denver. And until the hearing, you can stay right here with Lloyd, as long as you promise not to try to leave Denver.”
Jake drew on the cigarette, staring absently out the window. “I’m not going anywhere, especially if Lloyd is still in that bed.” He turned to Peter. “Things might get ugly at that hearing.”