“That’s right, Tessa. When you cause a scandal, you pay the price. My price is the truth.”
“I didn’t kill Arnie Mason,” Tessa said. “That’s the truth.”
“Do you know who did?”
Tessa shook her head. “It happened so fast. And the room was dark. I couldn’t see clearly. I only saw the movement. And…” She suddenly remembered the feel of warmth on her face. “And something hit me in the face.”
“What hit you?”
“I don’t know. Something light. Warm.” She shuddered, brushing her cheek with the back of her hand. “I thought it was blood.”
David began to pace the length of the room. “Did Arnie Mason have any enemies that you were aware of?” He turned to face her.
Tessa let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “I didn’t know Arnie Mason. I’d seen him around the Satin Slipper, but I didn’t know him.” She looked her attorney straight in the eye.
“What was he doing in your room if you didn’t know him?”
“He wanted something from me. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Did you lure him up to your room so someone else could kill him?” David asked the question, though he dreaded the answer.
“What kind of a person do you think I am?”
“Answer the question,” he demanded. “Please.”
“I woke up and he was there.”
David looked skeptical. “You always sleep fully clothed?”
“I’d been on my feet all night. I was tired. I dozed off. There’s no law against that.”
“But you invited him to your room?”
“No.” Tessa’s face mirrored her disgust at his question. “I didn’t invite him.”
“Then how did he get in?” David raked his fingers through his hair in a show of frustration.
“I’m thinking he opened the door and walked in. Just like everybody else.”
David ignored her sarcasm. “Why didn’t you simply lock the door?”
“Because,” Tessa answered bluntly, “the doors on the rooms of the Satin Slipper don’t have locks.”
That surprised him. He’d never thought about the lives of the women who worked in places like the Satin Slipper. Never wondered if they’d all chosen their profession. Saloon girls were simply there. To serve.
David studied his client for a moment, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. He wondered suddenly if she’d had a choice. “So you couldn’t have kept Arnie Mason out of your room, even if you wanted to?” Or anybody else, he added silently.
“No.” Tessa met his gaze and David caught a fleeting glimpse of the vulnerability she kept hidden deep inside. “That was the price I had to pay for our shelter,” she told him. “A room of my own, but without a lock on the door.”
Before David could formulate another question, the back door opened and Coalie stepped inside, the full bucket of coal bouncing against his leg. When David reached for the heavy bucket Coalie heaved a mighty sigh. Then he looked at Tessa, his eyes shining with excitement.
“Coalie, why don’t you show Miss Roarke where she’ll be staying while I fill the stove and make some fresh coffee?” David didn’t have the heart to spoil the boy’s pleasure. He set the bucket by the stove, scooped up a shovelful of coal, and added it to the glowing embers.
Coalie grabbed Tessa’s hand and led her across the main room to the door on the left side of the short hallway. “This is your room, Tessa,” he told her as he turned the porcelain knob. “See, it’s got a lock and key and a window and…” He opened the door with a flourish.
“Curtains.” Tessa breathed the word reverently, hurrying across the tiny bedroom to touch the red-checked material.
“They ain’t Irish lace.” Coalie’s brow wrinkled when he recalled how he and Tessa used to lie in bed at night and talk about living in a grand house with Irish lace curtains at the windows and a silver crucifix on the wall. “And you don’t have a silver crucifix, but there’s a bed big enough for two and room for a cradle, and there’s feather pillows and quilts and everything.” He looked up at Tessa, seeking reassurance.