the roof collapsing behind him. . . Franklin's head exploding . . .




Daniel grabbed her arm to keep her from going any farther. He stayed


by her side, but Cole had already moved to the center aisle and was


diligently searching the audience for signs of hidden weapons.




"He was in the bank. I saw him put his gun to the back of a man's head


and shoot him. I saw everything, " she shouted, "because I was


there.




" She was pointing at Bell when she made her accusations, but her


attention was centered on the woman who'd tried to kill Caleb and who'd


shot Marshal Cooper. Rebecca was shaking her head in denial as she


started to stand, then fell back against the chair. Her face was so


white she looked as though she were rapidly bleeding to death.




The crowd was going wild, the judge was pounding his gavel, and in the


fracas a young deputy in the back of the room shouted, "Those men are


armed, Judge." He then tried to bring his rifle up.




Before anyone in the crowd could summon a scream or dive for cover,


Daniel's gun was out, his arm fully extended, his target the center of


the deputy's forehead. The man hadn't even gotten his rifle past his


waist when he realized it was too late.




"Put the gun down, boy." The command was given in a deep, yet


surprisingly calm, voice.




Out of the corner of his eye, Cole had seen Daniel draw his gun on the


deputy and had already whirled around to face the only other men in the


courtroom who were armed. The sheriff was one, a deputy standing in


front of the side door was the other.




It was an instinctive reaction on the sheriff's part to go for his gun


as soon as his deputy shouted, but Cole had his gun trained on him the


second his fingers wiggled. Cole simply shook his head at the


sheriff.




The message was clear.




Rebecca frantically searched the audience for Donald. He had promised


her he would sit in the third or fourth row. She slowly slipped her


hand into her pocket.




The judge came out of his seat and leaned forward with both hands


planted on his desk as he roared, "What's the matter with you people?




Don't you know better than to draw on two U. S. marshals? Even I can


see their badges, and I'm as blind as a bat." Rafferty's voice lashed


out over the crowd and was so thunderous he was able to get through to


them and avert a panic. A collective sigh rolled through the assembly


as everyone calmed down. Several men chuckled with relief.




Rebecca was slowly bringing her derringer out of her pocket, holding it


steady in the palm of her hand with her thumb pressed against the


barrel. She found Donald quickly, he was sitting at the end of the


fourth row next to the aisle on her side of the courtroom. He was


close, very close, and as she watched him, he gave her a barely


perceptible nod before turning his attention to the deputy guarding the


side door on her left. She understood what he was telling her and


looked at Bell.




The judge took his seat, adjusted his flowing black robe, and squinted


at the assembly. They still appeared to be a little unnerved, and he


decided to give them another minute to recover.




"Marshals, you can holster your guns, " he ordered. "Which one of you


is Daniel Ryan? " "I am, Your Honor." The judge motioned him to the


bench. "You sure cut it awfully close getting here, " he remarked.




Daniel didn't offer any excuses or explanations. "Yes, Your Honor, we


did."




"I happen to know a great deal about you, son, because I make it my


business to find out everything I can about men like you, and I have


only one thing to say. It's an honor and a privilege to finally meet


you." Daniel didn't know what to say in response. The judge had


already turned his attention to Cole. "What's your name, Marshal? "


"Cole Clayborne." Rafferty nodded. "I've heard a tale or two about


you as well. Of course, I know the stories can't possibly be true. "


"I'm sure they aren't, Your Honor, " Cole answered, wondering why the


man wasn't getting to the urgent matter at hand. Cole kept glancing at


Daniel to make sure he was still in control. He noticed the way Daniel


was watching Bell, and knew that wasn't a good sign.




The judge rose to address his assembly. "All right now. I've given


you enough time to soothe your ruffled feathers and settle down. From


this point on, I don't want to hear one peep out of any of you. If I


do, I swear I'll order these fine marshals to escort you out the front


doors." Silence resulted from his firm decree. Rafferty turned to


Jessica and sat back. "Young lady, who are you? " "My name is Jessica


Summers."




"State your business with this court." She took a step closer to the


center of the bench and looked up at the judge.




"I witnessedţ" "I'm your witness, " Rebecca screamed.




"I'm telling the truth, " Jessica insisted.




"She's lying, Judge, " Rebecca countered. "I was there." Heads turned


back and forth from one side of the courtroom to the other as


accusations were volleyed. Daniel crossed behind Jessica and handed


the judge a paper.




Rafferty noted the seal at the bottom of the sheet, read the contents,


and nodded. "Well . . . well . . . " Shaking with rage, Jessica was


irrationally determined to make Rebecca tell the truth. First, she


knew, she would have to make the woman lose her control.




"Move back, Jessica, " Cole ordered when she took a step forward.




Jessica quickly did as he ordered, but didn't take her attention off


the woman she was determined to destroy.




"Cuff that prisoner, Sheriff, " Daniel ordered.




"It was you, " Jessica shouted. "You set the fire. You tried to kill


my son. You hurt Grace. You shot Marshal Cooper. Surprise,


RebeccaţCooper didn't die. Oh, yes, he's alive and well, " she


taunted. "And quite able to recall who he saw and what happened. The


judge is reading all about it right now. Cooper wrote a nice long


letter." The news staggered Rebecca. She collapsed against the back


of her chair and stared at Donald, imploring him with her eyes to help


her.




Donald was thoroughly enjoying himself. There was a hint of a smile on


his face as he sat there with his head tilted ever so slightly to the


wall while he watched and listened. How thoughtful of the marshal to


insist that the only living person who could possibly identify him stay


on the opposite side of the courtroom. She couldn't see him in the


crowd, not with the sea of faces gawking at her and Rebecca. Thanks to


the overly cautious marshal, Donald didn't have to worry.




He would continue to sit back and patiently bide his time. He knew


Rebecca expected him to help her escape, but he had no such intention,


of course. He would wait it out and then sneak away. The poor dear


was looking quite desperate now. Donald knew exactly what would happen


as soon as he gave her asignal. She would jump to her feet and attempt


to use that pathetic little gun she had hidden in her pocket. One of


the lawmen would shoot her, of course.




Donald also knew what Bell would do. He wouldn't continue to stand


there with his head hanging down, his shoulders stooped, and his hands


limp at his sides, looking like the sheriff's whipping boy. Why, he


hadn't moved a muscle since he'd shuffled across the room to the


railing in front of the star witness.




The cold-blooded murderer was as cunning as a fox. He was waiting for


his opportunity to spring into action. The sheriff had already relaxed


his guardţthe old fool was still looking around for his handcuffsţand


barely paying his prisoner any notice at all, which Donald knew was


just fine with Bell. The sheriff was going to have to get close to


Bell in order to shackle him, and when he did, Bell would attack.




Donald expected him to go down in a blaze of bullets, and while the


deputies and the marshals were firing, Donald would fold into the


inevitable stampede as the crowd swarmed out the doors to escape.




A man in the back row jumped to his feet and reached into kis hip


pocket, drawing botk Cole's and Daniel's attention.




"Hands up, " Cole shouted as he strode up the center aisle amid the


spectators, his gun trained on the stranger.




"I'm unarmed, I'm unarmed, " the man stammered. "I just needed my


handkerchief." He then sneezed, drawing smiles from those around


him.




Jessica was trying to figure out who Rebecca was looking at in the


crowd. Who would she know in Blackwater . . .




"Cole, " Jessie screamed as she rushed across the room, "he's here.




The leader . . . he's here." Daniel raced toward her and jerked her


back just as Donald gave the signal to Rebecca.




Rebecca leapt to her feet and fired one shot through the sheriff's


temple, but before his legs could begin to fold, Bell was behind him


and had his gun. He fired at the deputy guarding the side door,


hitting him in the center of the chest, then whirled and fired at


Jessica. Daniel shoved her to the floor in the nick of time, but the


bullet caught him in the left shoulder.




Pandemonium broke loose as the crowd jumped to its feet, obstructing


Cole's view.




Bell, diving for cover at the side of the witness-box, fired at Daniel,


but the shot went wild, for Daniel was already in motion. He shot the


gun out of Rebecca's hand. She screamed and fell backward. Daniel hit