"Miss Stanton, don't you look a sight. You should dress like that more often. So, what can I help you with?"
"You arrested a man last night."
"Shore did." Tiny puffed out his chest and gave her a full account of the arrest.
"Thank you for the information, Tiny." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've come to visit with the prisoner."
"Say that again." He removed his hat and scratched his balding head.
"I want to talk to the prisoner."
Dayton stepped closer and puffed out his chest. "The only prisoner we've got is locked away for murder. Don't think you need to be talkin' to the likes of him."
The chair made a loud, scraping noise as Tiny pushed it aside to come around his desk. He stood in front of her with a stern expression on his face, but he was much shorter than she, so his gesture lost most of its power to intimidate.
She glanced at both men. "Please. It's important."
Tiny gazed at her with an incredulous expression. Minutes ticked by. Finally, he nodded. "Dayton, watch the front while I escort Miss Stanton to the back." They exchanged a few more words before he opened the door that led to the cells. She peered down the corridor, but hung back, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior. Behind her, she could feel Dayton's gaze bore into her. She'd never cared for the deputy, but she had no excuse for feeling this way, just a gut feeling that caused an uneasiness whenever she was in his presence.
The jail had two cells. One was unoccupied. The far cell housed the prisoner known as Jake Nolan. Julia took a step closer and peered into the dark gray confines. The man lay on the cot, staring into space. Stale odors from previous inhabitants assaulted her senses. She lifted a handkerchief to her nostrils. She recognized him as the tall man from the Faded Calico, the one who'd stumbled to his room. Last night had left her with the image of a man accustomed to overindulging in drink. Her second impression of the man was even less flattering than her first until he spoke.
"Shut the door, Sheriff. The door blocks the sounds from the street." He didn't bother to look their way, so didn't realize the sheriff wasn't alone.
The intelligence she heard in the few words the prisoner spoke startled her. His words were softly said, but the tone of each syllable had a cultured rhythm unlike the general populace of Brownwood. His appearance didn't support the deep, rich, bass timbre of his voice. Shaggy blonde hair fell loosely over his eyebrows, making it difficult to discern the color of his eyes. A long, thick beard concealed his chin and a wiry mustache hid his mouth. Dressed in dingy, gray-brown trousers and shirt, he reminded her of a dangerous grizzly. She grimaced.
Julia tilted her head to one side and swallowed the bittersweet taste of fear and apprehension. She wanted to appear calm in front of the sheriff and the prisoner, but her knees shook, and her palms grew sweaty. Already, her impulsive decision caused some regret. The repercussions this visit would ignite might prove more upsetting than the confession she needed to make. The great Cal Stanton would not be pleased. She'd be lucky if he didn't disown her.
"Sheriff, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?"
"I can't do that. Your daddy would have my hide."
"Not if he doesn't know." She charmed him with her brightest smile. "Please."
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