Murder in a mill town by P.B. RYAN Read Free Book Online

and Duncan’s.
    “Miss?”
    “Yes. Home.”
    He shut the door, climbed up into his seat, lifted the reins.
    “No,” she said through the open window.
    “Miss?”
    She drew in a breath, let it out slowly. “Take me to the state prison, please.”
    There came a moment’s disbelieving silence. “The state—”
    “It’s about a mile that way, I believe.” She pointed down the road.
    “Whatever you say, miss.” He snapped the reins.
    Nell reached into her pocket, pulled out Duncan’s letter, unfolded it. The paper was coarse, cheap, brownish, the penmanship immature but painstakingly inked, with no cross-outs and surprisingly few misspellings—remarkable, considering that he’d had almost no formal schooling as a child, and could barely write his name when she’d known him. Nell suspected that this letter, like the seven others he’d sent her over the past four months, had been copied and perhaps re-copied in an effort to get it just right.
     
    Sept. 2nd 1868, Charlestown Prison
     
    My Darling Girl (for I will never stop thinking of you that way),
    Oftentimes I wonder if you even open these letters, since you have never written one back to me. But I will keep on writing them in the earnist hope that some day you will find it in your heart to write back to me.
    I do not expeckt you to forgive me for how I hurt you but I beg you to believe that I have changed. I was a diffrent man then. I was angrey and I did not even no why. Father Beals says 8 yrs. in this place have humbled me, and it is a good thing I got bagged because humilty is good for the soul and I believe that is true. I believe I am closer to Jesus because I am in this place. Did you ever think you woud hear me talk about Jesus?
    He is a Piscopal chaplan Father Beals but he is a good man, as good as any of our preists I say. Any way he is all we got here so he will have to do. And I reckon it is not his falt he was born Piscopal.
    I have missed you so much these past 8 years. I do not no any fancy way to say it. I just miss you. I do not no how I will make it threw the rest of my time here without seeing you. That is some thing I cannot bear to think about.
    It is no surprise to me that you do not want to write to me after what I did to you the last time we were to gether. I do not blame you one bit. I am more sorry than I can say but you no that if you have been reading my letters. You also no that I need to say it to you’re face like a man, the new man I am now not the old angrey one. Please I no you do not want to write back but please Nell come visit me here just once. I will not keep you long. It will be so good just to rest my eyes upon your face once more. And tell you how sorry I am.
    I no you must want me to stop writing to you, that is why you do not write back. Nell, I swear to God that I will stop writing to you if you only will come see me once and let me say how sorry I am. Just once for a few minutes so I can say what I would have said long ago were I a better man.
    I never thought I was the kind of man to beg but I am humble now and I am begging you. Please come to me Nell. Just once.
    I remain, truly and devotedly,
    Your faithfull and loving
    Duncan
     
    Nell touched a finger to the little scar near her left eyebrow, feeling the half-inch ridge even through the knotted threads of her glove. A knife scar, the least of those Duncan had dealt her the last time she’d seen him.
    “You want to leave?” he’d growled as he kicked her to the floor, then kept kicking her, pausing only to unbutton his trousers. “You can leave when I’m done with you.” He pummeled her as she thrashed, tore her basque open from collar to peplum, yanked at her stays.
He’s scratching me,
she thought...on her face, her chest...
    Then she saw the flash of a blade, the droplets of blood spattering his face, and she realized she might very well be dead before this was over—or wish she was.
    Now, eight years later, Nell was still quite alive, and Duncan