In one hand the dapper lawyer carried his black leather briefcase. Under the other arm he balanced a tray with a teapot, cups, sugar, cream, and hot cinnamon scones.

"I thought perhaps a decent cup of tea would cheer you up. Lemon wasn't available. I hope you like milk."

"It's fine, thank you. I don't understand why you're doing all this for me," Tamsin said as Dimitri set the tea tray on the wooden stool in her cell and removed several hard-boiled eggs from his pocket. "You don't know me. You don't know if I'm lying about the murder. You have no reason to trust me, yet you've left your home and other clients to come here and concentrate on my case." She chuckled. "And you've brought breakfast."

Pleasantly embarrassed, Dimitri tugged at his high collar and cleared his throat. His black coat and waistcoat were immaculate, his white shirt was starched, his trousers bore a knife-edge crease, and his shoes were shiny enough for Tamsin to see her reflection.

He looked totally out of place in this dingy jail cell that smelled of stale urine and despair. Yet, he managed to appear undaunted by the bleak surroundings.

"Ashton trusts you," he said. "I've never known him to be wrong about a person's character." He smiled. "And I do have some aptitude in that area myself. I'm convinced you're not a murderess."

"Even believing in my innocence, you're going beyond your duty as my lawyer. Not that I don't appreciate it. I do, it's just that I don't have any money to-"

"You must not be concerned with finances. Ashton has generously guaranteed all my expenses. He offered to pay my fee, but I'll accept none from him, ever." Dimitri gestured grandly. "Ashton saved my wife's life. That's how we met him. My dearest Helen was coming west from Baltimore to join me. She and Ashton were on the same train traveling through Missouri when it was attacked by Confederate sympathizers."

"During the war?"

"Yes." Dimitri nodded. "Yes, in '62. When the rebels entered the car, demanded all the passengers' valuables, and began shooting, Ashton threw himself over my wife and took a bullet to protect her. Wounded, he killed two of the marauders and drove off the others. Neither of us will ever forget that gallant deed." He chuckled. "Besides, Ashton plays a tolerable game of chess. And you have no idea how difficult it is to find a decent opponent west of Baltimore."

"Ash is a good man, isn't he?"

"The best," Dimitri agreed. "Smart, absolutely fearless, and honest to the bone. He should have taken up the study of law. He'd have made a fine judge." He smiled, revealing a silver filling in an eyetooth. "I'm not blind, Mrs. MacGreggor. It's clear what the relationship is between the two of you. And you needn't fear; Ashton has none but the most honorable intentions toward you. I'm certain of it."

"I wish I had your faith." Tamsin rose to pace nervously. "Have you spoken with Henry Steele?"

"Yes, I have. He's quite adamant about what he found in the barn. He'll be a good witness for the prosecution. I always advise my clients to avoid being found standing over a body whenever possible." Dimitri chuckled at his bit of humor and adjusted the knot of his perfectly tied cravat.

Tamsin nibbled her lower lip and studied the little man. Had she seen Dimitri Zajicek on the street, she would have passed him without suspecting that beneath that graying cap of hair, with its center part and heavy layer of Acme Hair Oil, nestled a steel-trap mind. Strange that two such different men as he and Ash should have developed such an obvious respect for each other.

She smiled. So Ash played a good game of chess, did he? He was full of surprises. If she survived the rope and Ash his outlaws, she'd have to challenge him to a match. Her grandfather had taught her chess when she was eight, and it had been a passion ever since.

"A trial date has been set," Dimitri announced, pulling her back to her present situation. "Monday, a week."

"You can't let Henry Steele preside," she replied. "I'm certain that he killed his own brother. What other reason could he possibly have for being in that barn that late at night? I heard Sam order him off the ranch that day. They were furious with each other. Apparently it wasn't enough for Henry to covet his brother's wife. He must have hated Sam enough to shoot him in the back."

"Henry Steele cannot judge this case. It's illegal and impossible. Leave that to me. But if you hope to cast suspicion on a judge, we must have more evidence than his being there," Dimitri reminded her. "You were there, and you're innocent. It could have been a third party who committed the crime. A disgruntled employee? A passing horse thief?"

"If it was, then there were two of us there to steal horses that night." She shook her head. "It makes no sense. Unless Sam Steele was the horse thief. Someone took Dancer and Fancy from the livery stable the night before, and they weren't the first horses to go missing in this town according to the boy who mucks up for the hostler."

"You mentioned the lad before." Dimitri whipped out a pencil and a small leather-bound notebook. "Give me his name and his exact words."

"I'm not sure of his name, but he was about fourteen with olive skin and black hair. He said, 'Sam Steele trades in horses. Some people say he's not particular whose they are.' "

"You're certain that's what he said?"

"Yes. And you should question Mr. Edwards, the livery stable owner. He seemed a dishonest sort to me. Either he sold my horses to Sam, or they were in league with each other. Sam insisted he had bills of sale for both animals, but I didn't see them. They could have been false."

"Or the papers never existed," Dimitri suggested. "I'll put bills of sale at the top of my questions for the widow Steele. If there are such papers, she should be able to produce them."

"If Sam Steele's widow, Sarah, I believe I heard him call her, was behaving improperly with the judge-"

"Then she may be a hostile witness as well," the lawyer finished. He pursed his lips. "Leave Mrs. Steele to me, Mrs. MacGreggor. I've questioned deceitful witnesses on the stand before." He moistened the pencil point with the tip of his tongue. "Can you remember anyone, other than this Mr. Edwards, who saw you ride into town with your horses?"

She shook her head. "There may have been a cowboy outside the feed and grain store." She nodded. "There was, but he mounted up and rode out. I don't think he ever looked in my direction, so I couldn't give you a description."

"Very well. Let me follow up these leads. You're not to worry, Mrs. MacGreggor. Criminal law is my favorite aspect of the justice system. I'll do my best for you and Ashton. I promise you that."

"And you won't let Henry Steele preside over my case?"

"If he tries it, we'll scream loud enough to bring the governor running."

"Just as long as he runs fast enough to get here before I go to the gallows."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Amen to those words."

Dimitri finished his cup of tea and departed, leaving Tamsin alone in her cell until noon, when Helen Zajicek appeared with a basket lunch. She took one look at the plate of beans and the dry biscuit that the deputy, Joel Long, had provided and shook her head in disgust.

"I wouldn't feed that to a dog."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, but I'm really not hungry," Tamsin protested as Helen began to unpack her hamper.

"Tish, tish. You need to eat to keep up your strength. You must not become downhearted. Have faith in Mr. Zajicek. He is an excellent barrister, and he will stop at nothing to provide you with the best defense."

"I'm sure he will," Tamsin replied. But her real faith lay in Ash. She kept hoping he'd relent, break her out of jail, and force Henry Steele to confess he'd committed the murder.