who violated the sanctity of my home and has not yet explained his circumstances. I assume you have an explanation."
"I do," Kevin said.
"Then please explain, young man," Asa said. He folded his arms and stared hard at Kevin. "You have five minutes to persuade me not to contact the police."
Kevin sighed and glanced at a bare wall that would someday support his grandma's hideous cuckoo clock. He would gladly give up everything in his possession to see that stupid clock again, if doing so didn't place him in even more jeopardy. He turned to Asa.
"I entered your shed because I needed shelter from the weather."
Asa smiled.
"Wallace has several hotels and boarding houses, Mr. Johnson. No man chooses a hard floor in a cold room over a soft bed in a warm room."
"He does if he leaves his wallet on a train," Kevin said.
Celia covered her mouth with a hand.
"When my train stopped here yesterday, I got off. I'd intended to continue to Missoula, but I thought Wallace looked interesting and decided to stay for the night. So I got off the train, walked around a bit, and looked for a restaurant. When I saw one, I reached for my wallet and found an empty pocket. By the time I got back to the station, the train was gone."
"I see," Asa said. "So, naturally, when you discovered that you had no money, you walked nearly a mile across town to my rock shed, opened the door, and made yourself comfortable."
"Asa!"
Kevin looked at his great-great-grandmother and noticed that her eyes and expressions had softened considerably. Perhaps he had an unexpected ally in this unexpected trial.
"No, sir, I looked first for a telegraph office. I figured if I could find one, I could wire my family for money, pay for a room, and catch the next train out. When I saw that the office was closed, I wandered some more."
"What about the hotel lobbies?" Celia asked. "You could have warmed yourself there."
"I walked into a few," Kevin said, "but the proprietors sent me out when they realized that I wasn't a paying customer. I wandered into this neighborhood around midnight. I didn't want to enter a house and take a chance on getting shot, so I looked around some more and found your shed. When I saw that the door wasn't locked, I walked in."
Kevin felt a surge of satisfaction when he finished his impromptu narrative and then a surge of panic when he realized he had made claims that could be proved false. He didn't know for a fact that eastbound trains rolled through Wallace every day or that the town had a telegraph office that closed at night. He didn't know the location of the telegraph office. He had said too much and had left himself vulnerable to a withering cross-examination.
Asa didn't speak right away. He instead rubbed his hands together, hardened his expression, and stared at Kevin for what seemed like an eternity. When he finally spoke, he didn't cross-examine the defendant. He did something far worse: he asked about the suitcase.
"Would you mind if I took a look inside that case?"
"I would mind, sir. Some of the items are personal in nature – very personal. I would prefer to be spared the indignity of displaying them."
Kevin tried to put down the butterflies in his stomach as he watched Asa's expression change from a garden-variety frown to a sly grin. He suspected that the older man very much wanted to see the contents of the case but didn't want to embarrass his wife and impressionable son.
"You are fortunate, Mr. Johnson. I know for a fact the shed was empty when I opened it last, so I know for a fact you didn't remove anything of value," Asa said. "I don't think much of your story. I've heard more plausible tales in saloons. But I don't believe you mean harm to anyone, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt."
Celia smiled softly at Kevin and then walked to the marble-topped serving counter, which divided the cooking and dining areas. She then looked at the head of the table, raised her brows, and scolded her husband with a
"I do," Kevin said.
"Then please explain, young man," Asa said. He folded his arms and stared hard at Kevin. "You have five minutes to persuade me not to contact the police."
Kevin sighed and glanced at a bare wall that would someday support his grandma's hideous cuckoo clock. He would gladly give up everything in his possession to see that stupid clock again, if doing so didn't place him in even more jeopardy. He turned to Asa.
"I entered your shed because I needed shelter from the weather."
Asa smiled.
"Wallace has several hotels and boarding houses, Mr. Johnson. No man chooses a hard floor in a cold room over a soft bed in a warm room."
"He does if he leaves his wallet on a train," Kevin said.
Celia covered her mouth with a hand.
"When my train stopped here yesterday, I got off. I'd intended to continue to Missoula, but I thought Wallace looked interesting and decided to stay for the night. So I got off the train, walked around a bit, and looked for a restaurant. When I saw one, I reached for my wallet and found an empty pocket. By the time I got back to the station, the train was gone."
"I see," Asa said. "So, naturally, when you discovered that you had no money, you walked nearly a mile across town to my rock shed, opened the door, and made yourself comfortable."
"Asa!"
Kevin looked at his great-great-grandmother and noticed that her eyes and expressions had softened considerably. Perhaps he had an unexpected ally in this unexpected trial.
"No, sir, I looked first for a telegraph office. I figured if I could find one, I could wire my family for money, pay for a room, and catch the next train out. When I saw that the office was closed, I wandered some more."
"What about the hotel lobbies?" Celia asked. "You could have warmed yourself there."
"I walked into a few," Kevin said, "but the proprietors sent me out when they realized that I wasn't a paying customer. I wandered into this neighborhood around midnight. I didn't want to enter a house and take a chance on getting shot, so I looked around some more and found your shed. When I saw that the door wasn't locked, I walked in."
Kevin felt a surge of satisfaction when he finished his impromptu narrative and then a surge of panic when he realized he had made claims that could be proved false. He didn't know for a fact that eastbound trains rolled through Wallace every day or that the town had a telegraph office that closed at night. He didn't know the location of the telegraph office. He had said too much and had left himself vulnerable to a withering cross-examination.
Asa didn't speak right away. He instead rubbed his hands together, hardened his expression, and stared at Kevin for what seemed like an eternity. When he finally spoke, he didn't cross-examine the defendant. He did something far worse: he asked about the suitcase.
"Would you mind if I took a look inside that case?"
"I would mind, sir. Some of the items are personal in nature – very personal. I would prefer to be spared the indignity of displaying them."
Kevin tried to put down the butterflies in his stomach as he watched Asa's expression change from a garden-variety frown to a sly grin. He suspected that the older man very much wanted to see the contents of the case but didn't want to embarrass his wife and impressionable son.
"You are fortunate, Mr. Johnson. I know for a fact the shed was empty when I opened it last, so I know for a fact you didn't remove anything of value," Asa said. "I don't think much of your story. I've heard more plausible tales in saloons. But I don't believe you mean harm to anyone, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt."
Celia smiled softly at Kevin and then walked to the marble-topped serving counter, which divided the cooking and dining areas. She then looked at the head of the table, raised her brows, and scolded her husband with a
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