“There’s your proof!” Henry’s palm slapped the tabletop. “He was there.”
“Yes he was. Four days ago when he shot up the church. The tracks were too faded to have been newly made. And they didn’t fit with what happened. They only led to the west side of the building, to the window where he shot into the church. Then they backtracked to where a horse waited. I found hoofprints in the grass that match Emma’s account of the man riding off through the brush instead of on the road. No boot prints leading to the east side of the building where the fire was set. So unless he followed his previous tracks precisely and climbed over the top of the church, he can’t be the one responsible.”
The women fell silent again. Malachi felt like the worst sort of villain, casting aspersions on Emma’s community, especially after their impressive display of unified purpose last night. But maybe that was the true benefit of bringing in an outsider. He could see things, or at least the possibilities of things, that Emma was too close to recognize.
“I know you don’t want to believe that one of your own could be involved,” Malachi said, his voice as gentle as he could make it, “but walking around with blinders on won’t help your ladies, either. I’m not saying that we should start throwing accusations around. That would only rile everyone up and destroy the camaraderie that you’ve worked so hard to build, a camaraderie you’ll need to defeat the skunk who’s trying to drive you out.
“All I’m asking is that you stop assuming that everyone’s motives are as pure as your own. Ask questions. Read between a few lines. We can start by finding out where that turpentine came from.” He tilted his head toward the pie safe. “It looks like it sat in a cupboard or barn for a good long while. It belongs somewhere around here. If we discover where it came from, it might give us a clue to the identity of the person who used it. We should also determine who sent up the alarm. The first person on scene could have been the one to start the blaze. She wanted the fire to be caught early so the message would be decipherable. What better way to deflect suspicion than to be the one who sounded the alarm?”
Henry raised a brow at him. “You have a devious mind, boy.”
He shrugged off her comment, but the action didn’t stop the old guilt from swirling through his gut again. “I spent a lot of years deflecting suspicion in my youth, sidestepping the law in order to survive. I know how it’s done.”
Emma peered at him, her eyes finally sharpening, leaving behind the glaze of denial. “And that might be exactly what one of our ladies is facing—survival.” She turned to the aunts and straightened in her chair, a new energy driving her movements. “Malachi is right. It’s dangerous for us to na?vely assume that none of our ladies could be involved.” She swung back toward Malachi. “But we must not be too quick to cast blame, either. There could be many innocent explanations for what appears to be suspicious behavior, and I won’t have anyone badgered or unduly scrutinized as we struggle to piece the truth together. We will presume innocence even as we seek proof of guilt.”
Mal nodded. “Agreed.”
“We will also keep this discussion strictly between the four of us.” She looked pointedly at each of the aunts. “You cannot speak of it to Daisy or anyone else. Understood?”
Henry gave a crisp nod.
Bertie’s followed a bit more hesitantly. “Will you not tell Victoria? The two of you started this colony together. She’s been with you since the beginning. Surely you trust her?”
Emma’s eyes slid closed for a moment as if Bertie’s words caused her physical pain. “I trust Tori completely,” she said as she opened her eyes. “Perhaps I will share our findings with her once we have gathered some evidence, but at this point, the fewer people who know we are looking, the better. Less chance that something will be overheard that way.”