Chapter Thirty Seven

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 Jack untangled herself from Donovan, the sweet moment between them stolen by Oliver's acerbic words. No, Jack thought, no, we have to have more time. He can't arrest him, not like this. He hasn't done anything wrong!

Oliver Walker stood before them, leaning heavily on his ivory handled candle. His face was red with exertion, matching the crimson of his waistcoat. His eyes bugged as he glared at Donovan and Jack.

"Need I repeat myself? I said you were under arrest!"

Donovan rose to his feet, his movements slow due to the burn across his back. He helped Jack to stand beside him, anger flashing in his dark eyes. "What evidence do you have against me? I was nearly killed in this fire that Max Slate started."

Oliver's chin trembled as he looked between Jack and Donovan. "I assure you, Maxwell Slate is not responsible. I spoke to him prior to coming here to serve as the town's representative of the law in the absence of an appointed sheriff."

Jack's rage burned inside of her. What had Max said to convince Oliver that Donovan was somehow responsible for this? Oliver's hand shook on the handle of his cane, and Jack wondered if Oliver was ruled by threats rather than lies.

"Margaret Hunt told us herself that Max was planning to burn down the Bookers' house, and Donovan and the deed with it!" Jack exclaimed.

Oliver's lips gathered in an ugly pucker. "Well, that's hardly possible given the fact that he is the rightful owner of the lease, now, is it?"

"Rightful owner?" Donovan sputtered. "That land belongs to my sister!"

"You forfeited your family's right to the land when you killed the other two Slate brothers!" Oliver exclaimed, his face blushing a darker shade of red.

Donovan's jaw dropped, his eyebrows drawn together. "That...that's preposterous! Mayor Walker, I'm a lawyer according to the state of Massachusetts, and I can assure there is no such law. Under no circumstances would this land be forfeited to the Slates regardless of the crimes of which I'm accused!"

Hope surged in Jack, but she was wrong to assume that logic would have any effect on Oliver. Donovan's protest only infuriated him and he raised his cane in their direction.

"This has gone on long enough! I am the rightful law in this city, and I make the decisions."

"Mayor Walker," Dr. Benjamin interceded from among the onlookers. "Can we not arrange for a civil hearing for his crimes?"

Oliver's eyes widened so the whites showed. "This is the only way we'll have peace! Donovan needs to face justice so we can put behind the violence and crime of the last few weeks."

Suddenly, Jack understood. Mayor Oliver Walker was terrified of Max Slate, and he knew that he had to give Max what he wanted or risk even further damage to the town of Irvington, possibly the only thing he had ever loved. Oliver was trying to take control in a desperate attempt to regain control. Losing one outsider, one Indian man, was a small price to pay for the peace of an entire town. Jack's desire to escape Irvington was replaced by a resolution to not let Max get away with this.

If they let Max play Oliver like a marionette, Donovan would be killed and his land stolen. Jack swore to herself that she would never let that happen. But what could they do? Donovan could run and never be found, but he would never be able to return to Irvington or to Jack.

Jack trained her eyes on Donovan who still held Jack's hand firmly in his own. He squeezed it tightly and let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging.

"Fine," Donovan said, hanging his head. "If my death can keep Max Slate from killing anyone else, I'll turn myself in."

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