Page 147 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

Marrying a Murderer by Vanessa Brooks

Chapter One

St Elmo, Colorado – 1884

Withdrawing deeper into the protection of the dark shadow, Verity flattened herself against the wall, closing her eyes against the moonlight, terrified her eye reflection might give away her presence. The man had not yet moved from where he stood over the prone body now lying lifeless in the dirt.

Had he seen her? She risked a quick glance through her fingers, he was now crouched low over his victim searching the body of the man she’d just seen brutally murdered.

Turning, he glanced behind him. Verity’s breath became ragged. She snapped her eyes shut again, praying silently. Her heart hammered. The sound of her own blood racing through her veins thrummed in her ears. Had the killer spotted her? It seemed not, for as she peaked through half closed lids, he tilted his head up to gaze up into the darkening sky causing his face to become clearly outlined by the rising moon. A handsome, pleasant-faced man, yet someone to be feared. A murderer.

Suddenly he moved. Her breath caught in her throat. She froze; fist in mouth to stifle a whimper of terror.

Stalking away without a backward glance, the murderer left the dead man where he lay in a pool of darkening blood. Verity’s breath escaped in a whoosh of relief. Sweat dampened her skin. Doubling over, she retched until there was nothing left in her stomach.

Inching away from where she’d been ill, she peered into the street. He’d not returned. Shrouded between the shadow of the two tall buildings feeling terrified to move, she opted to stay where she was. Time passed, yet still she remained hidden. Eventually, feeling braver, she slunk from her hiding place and moved cautiously forward, nervous the killer might return to the scene of the crime.

Drawing her shawl over her head she garnered the courage to venture into the open street. She scurried up the boardwalk to Mrs. Campbell’s boarding house where she was staying.

Having just arrived in St Elmo, Colorado to teach school, the very last thing she needed was notoriety and so she decided not to tell a soul what she’d witnessed. It had been clear in the letter of appointment she’d received that the town was looking for a school master, not a mistress. The last thing she needed now was to become embroiled in a notorious trial as a key witness and risk public ridicule which might lead to the loss of this much needed post. There was nowhere else for her to go. Her parents were dead and as soon as she’d received her teaching certificate, her mean-spirited aunt told her it was time for her to leave. This post was the only one that had accepted her application.

If she should become the center of attention and be gossiped about, the parents and the school board might want her gone. They were not happy to have an unseasoned teacher, yet alone a woman, in the post. Since no male application had been received, they had reluctantly accepted hers. Guiltily she decided it was in her best interests to stay silent, to watch and wait to see how this horrible drama unfolded.

Every morning since she’d witnessed the murder, she encouraged her landlady to gossip. Apart from being regaled by the various town-folks’ health issues, it seemed that no murder had been reported.

Two days later she came down to breakfast to find Mrs. Campbell all a twitter.

“Miss Lasse, something dreadful has happened in town, I would not have heard about it, but for the boy delivering a telegram for you. Apparently, a man has been found dead in the street!”

“Oh, my goodness, how dreadful!” Verity exclaimed.

“Isn’t it? The matter has been duly reported to the sheriff who is investigating. The lad told me he thinks it was murder. I don’t know as I’ll sleep easy tonight knowing there’s a killer on the loose. Oh, my days what is the town coming too?”

Verity nodded, inwardly sighing with relief. She might be able to sleep at night again now that she knew the law had taken charge of the poor man’s demise.

“Do they know anything about who the dead man might be?” she asked.

Mrs. Campbell snorted. “Yes, and you may be sure no one will mourn him! Billy Tucker is no loss to this world.”

Verity found her landlady’s description of the dead man’s character partially reassuring. It would have been far worse to hear that she’d witnessed the murder of a good man. However much she tried, she couldn’t erase the dreadful moment when she’d watched Mr. Tucker’s life blood ebb away. That violent deed invaded her dreams, badly affecting her ability to sleep. Time and again she awoke shaken and drenched in sweat, her vivid nightmares recalling in detail Billy Tucker’s last moments.

“Well, are you going to read it?” Mrs. Campbell interrupted her thoughts, nodding at the telegram she’d placed before her.

“Oh yes, of course.” She scanned the note. ‘I am married STOP No need for your return STOP Have a good life STOP Aunt Susan STOP”

“Not bad news I hope?” Mrs. Campbell asked curiously.

“No, no, not at all… It’s from my aunt and astonishingly she has married.” No need to explain to her landlady that this was her aunt’s way of ensuring that her niece got the message that she was unwelcome and should never return. Verity folded the telegram and slipped into her pocket. Since she had no intention of living under her aunt’s roof ever again, no reply was necessary.

Keeping to the guest house, she whiled away her time by assisting Mrs. Campbell. Sometimes sewing the many threadbare sheets which her landlady used for her guests. Helping with the daily chores, Verity tried to be as useful as she could. Helping her landlady kept the dark memories at bay. She was due to begin teaching at the town’s small school the following week. Since her foray after dark into the streets of St Elmo, she’d not ventured forth in the evenings, not wanting any reminders of that horrible night. Nor had she seen the murderer since that day. She fervently hoped that the man was locked up safely up in a cell. But if he’d not yet been apprehended, she consoled herself with the fact he must surely have left town. Afterall, wouldn’t he be long gone by now?

Sunlight glinted off the whitewashed walls of the wooden school building. Verity took a moment to stand and admire her new place of work. The schoolhouse was surrounded by forest. Woodland reached the outer edges of the boundary. Aspen trees rustled prettily swaying in the gentle breeze. The compact building housed a small square bell tower sat atop the roof. It was a pretty, peaceful place. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she realised she could be very happy working here.

Stepping inside the bright interior, she took a moment to cast her eye over the rows of desks, cupboards, blackboard and potbellied stove, currently unlit before she untied the rope that was the bell pull. With one tug a satisfying clang tolled, ringing out the message that school was back in session.

Her first day as the town’s new teacher went surprisingly well. The lessons ran smoothly, despite her jittery nerves. Sixteen pupils attended. All the children were remarkably well behaved, considering they ranged from six to fifteen. Verity was delighted to find that she had twin girls in her class and found it fascinating that although they were identical in their outward appearance; their characters were as different as night from day.

Grace, a sweet rather shy girl, wished only to please her new teacher; however, Mercy, her twin, appeared to be a headstrong, sassy child who possessed a smart mouth. Verity asked Mercy to stay behind after school. Both six-year-olds obediently remained seated as the other children filed out of the door at the end of the day.

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