Finish the Western III: A Murder in the Gulch

Cafe Society
61

Belle and Jesse and their children were gone with the sun. They had a lot to do at their own ranch if they wanted to be at the Hastings funeral. And while attending the funeral was not exactly a fun thing to do, it was the least they could do to offer support for the Widow Hastings and her children.

Jesse quickly tended the stock while Belle washed and dressed the children. She planned on sitting at the back of the church so she could quickly slip out if they started to fuss.

She had just finished tying a bow in Tessie’s hair, a bow she knew would be crumpled and dusty and most likely lost before the service was over, when Jesse returned.

“Star is fine,” he said. “She should be foaling within the next week.” Jesse poured the milk into its can and set it into the pantry.

Belle gave him a quick kiss, handed him the baby, and rushed off to dress. With George tucked onto his hip, and Tessie skipping around, Jesse damped the fire in the stove and straightened the kitchen. He took a few extra minutes to review his law books, particularly when it came to arresting suspects, and made a note to himself to find Zeke before the day was done.

“I’m ready, honey,” Belle said. Jesse whistled. Even dressed in somber black she was still a stunning woman.

“Let’s take a ham to give to the Hastings,” she said, grabbing Tessie and heading outside. Jesse took a quick look around to make sure everything was in place, then shut the door behind him. He went to the smoking shed, selected a nice ham, and joined Belle in the wagon, where she was admonishing Tessie to try and not to scuff her shoes.

With a slap of the reins, Goliath took off and the Parker family headed to town.

62

The funeral of Harold Herbert Hastings was better attended than many in Anderson’s Gulch. Hastings had been a respected storekeeper, a longtime resident who had stuck with the town through it’s hard times.

There was an overflow crowd at Zion Methodist Church, where the Hastings family were members. Zion was not a big building, but it was still the larger than the little Presbyterian church on the other side of town, or the tiny Catholic chapel where a priest was now making visits once every two weeks.

Zeke circulated amongst the standing crown outside. Some of the men, uncomfortable in their good clothes, were taking furtive nips from little flasks. There would be some angry wives later on, Zeke thought with a chuckle. He noticed some of the show people, still stranded here, but not feeling easy about going inside. “Miss Fenno” he called, and she turned around to see him, with a nervous smile on her face. “Hello, Sheriff Clayton. Sorry about how I acted yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it. But I want to talk to you later about that Sam Nichols. You two don’t seem too fond of each other, and if he’s in with that Tuttle feller that could mean bad news. I want to talk more about your bow, too, and that new guy you mentioned.”

“Yuri? He’s been coming and going. I’ll see him with one batch of folks, then another. He disappeared for a while not long after the show, but I caught a glimpse of him at his caravan yesterday evening.”

Zeke tipped his hat. “Thanks, Miss Fenno, I see some other folks I have to talk to” and he pushed his way towards where he saw the Parkers and the Charging Bears arriving. The latter had caught up to Jesse and Belle along the way into town.

“Jesse Parker! Am I glad to see you, even if you are in a heap of trouble!” A look of wariness sprang into Jesse’s eyes, but relaxed a little at Zeke’s next words. "I go through on the telegraph line to MacTavish is Solace, and I think I have him calmed down, well, sort of anyway. You can account for most of your time, can’t you?

"Of course he can!“Belle interrupted. He told me about the missing saw, weeks ago, and he bought a new one, just like it, at Hastings Mercantile not long after. Go and check it out.”

Jesse smiled sheepishly at Belle’s angry interjection and Zeke said “glad to see you acting more like yourself ma’am. And I* will* check out what you told me”

Just then there was a general movement towards the church. The funeral procession had arrived, and the casket was being taken into the church, carried by six pallbearers. There were the two McLeods, father and son, Edward Norman( Hastings son-in-law), Billy Hastings, and the McReynold’s twins.

“Mrs. Parker? Belle?” Belle turned and saw Mrs. Gray, wife of the Rev. Gray, the Zion’s pastor. “Nancy, how are you?” “Can’t complain, now that the morning sickness is past. Just wanted to let you know, we’ve set up for the little children, in the Smith house across the way. A couple of the older girls are going to watch them, as it’s hot and crowded in the church. If you would like you can send your little girl and boy over.”

Belle took a look at how Tessie had already found Mose again and was shrieking around the churchyard, running into people. “That sounds like a pure relief, it does. I’ll keep George here, but that litte rapscallion will probably never notice I’m not there.” One of Nancy Gray’s watcher’s, Geraldine Fisk, snagged Tessie and little Mose together. Even Alice Norman, the Hasting’s grandaughter, the same age as Mose, was going over to be looked after, and there were several other relieved mothers as well. Everyone knew how much Nancy Gray liked children, and were greatful to her for her thoughtfulness now.

Some local mamas had been resentful when the Rev. Gray had come back from a District Methodist conference, with a distant cousin as a wife… They’d considered him prime husband material for* their* marriagable daughters, but it was hard not to like Nancy. She’d been a widow of thirty, and had never expected to have her own children, but Julius Gray had met her again at a family get-together and suddenly seen something he’d missed in this calm mannered woman with hazel eyes.

Dr. McCaulley thought of the words from Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer. “It was a relief when the benediction was pronounced, and the service was over.” the church had been hotter than blazes and packed tighter than sardines in a can. At least he’d been near the door, in the back of the church, along with some of the mothers, including Belle. He turned now, as he heard shrill voices shouting outside. Before the casket could be borne down the aisle and block him, he stepped into the open air., and with several others now, saw Geraldine Fisk, at the Smith house, along with Sophie Gehrt, jumping up and down and waving their arms, to get attention.

“Help! Help! She’s gone, he rode off!” Men started running over, along with Zeke, who’d gone inside the church after all.

The girls nearly collapsed as help arrived. They hadn’t wanted to leave the rest of the kids. Crying in anger, Sophie pressed a note into Zekes’ hand. “Here, sheriiff, he left this!”

63

Zeke opened the note. “I have Alice. You have twenty-four hours to deposit $5000 in the bank or I start sending back body parts.”

Edward Norman was supporting his hysterical wife, and Doc MacCaulley was bending over the Widow Hastings, who had collapsed.

“Reverend Gray, bless Mr. Hastings and get him buried quick. We need to get a search party organized now,” Zeke cried. “I want every able-bodied man with a shotgun to meet me at the jailhouse. We’ll fan out in fifteen minutes.”

Grey pointed at Danny. “Bring that shovel, boy, and start digging. We’ll hold a more formal service later, but I don’t think Hastings will mind considering his granddaughter is missing.”

Belle and Caroline pried Mrs. Norman away from her husband, who kissed her fervently but quickly and raced after Zeke. Jesse joined up with Charley. “You don’t know where Mose is, do you?”

“What? Is he missing too?” Panicked, Charley began running toward the Smith house. Jesse grabbed him.

“Dammit, no, Charley, I’m sorry. I meant Big Mose.”

Charley heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Last I saw he was headed toward Solace.”

The townfolk split, the women going to check on their own children and sit with Mrs. Norman, the men racing to find the missing girl. All things considered, Mr. Hastings would have been proud.

64

Zeke got Geraldine and Sophie to describe who had taken Alice.

“Sheriff, he was just suddenly at the back door” gulped Geraldine “he had a kerchief up over his face, but we could see his eyes.”

“They were black!” shrilled Sophie " and he had dark hair. Was real short, not much taller than me."

“Did he talk at all?” queried Zeke. Both girls turned red.

“Uh, sheriff, he used some words I don’t know, but they sounded bad” blurted Sophie. Geraldine chimed in “Tell me which is Alice!” he said, “and his voice sounded funny, or maybe it was just the kerchief.” She gulped “I’m so sorry, he had a big knife, and I was so scared!”

Knife? Voice? Bells started going off in Zeke’s mind, as he took off to the jailhouse. But why was Alice a particular target? And why put money in the bank, for crying out loud? Kidnappers went for cash, didn’t they? Which bank? Zeke took another look at the note, and noticed it didn’t even say. What the hell was going on?

“Men”, he said, “I talked to the girls and looked at this note. There’s definitely something fishy about this, but we do have a possible suspect, that knife thrower with the wild west show. Any of you seen this guy around, know where he hangs out since they’ve been stuck here?” A few hands went up, and Zeke sent out riders in pairs, with orders to report back when they found anything. “I also want men to go stake out the north and the south roads. Get up somewhere you can see but not be seen.” More men rode off. “The rest of you, fan out through town, and keep your eyes open. Don’t do anything stupid, a little girl is at stake.”

From his room Sam Nichols watched the street outside start buzzing with men. But Yuri had acted quickly. After he’d found Sam, as Tuttle had ordered, Sam had had a flash idea. He’d wanted to get back at May Fenno, didn’t he? And no matter what she said about her bow being messed with, she was still a suspect, wasn’t she? Sam knew from Tuttle that the Hastings family wasn’t the real target, and he was going to go along with that, but with maybe a little more planted evidence, he could throw the blame on May. Of course that would mean double-crossing Yuri, not an entirely safe proposition, but Sam Nichols liked a little danger. It was so…so…invigorating. So he’d paid Yuri well, and sent him off instantly. Hopefully nobody had noticed his quick visit here, with the blanketed bundle secured behind him, and he’d got out of town ahead of pursuit.

He turned to the scared little figure with the bandaged mouth, tied hands, and terrified eyes. He wrinkled his nose, as she’d soiled herself in terror. Thank goodness she wasn’t old enough to talk coherently yet, when he turned her loose tomorrow she wouldn’t be able to identify him. Time to get word out to Tuttle now, somehow. since he’d been supposed to head for that ranch out north early this morning.

65

Martha smiled grimly to herself as she heard a knocking on the door. She had not been able to attend the Hasting’s funeral because of Will’s illness, and considering which long-lost relative was about to arrive she thought it would be best not to absent herself from the ranch.

She waved away Graziella, their maid, newly arrived from Mexico and a wonderful cook, and answered the door herself, her face carefully arranged.

“Yes, may I help you?” she asked.

“Hi, Aunt Martha,” Tuttle said, smiling broadly. “I’ve come to help you.”

Martha frowned. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Tuttle’s face fell. Of all the scenarios he had prepared himself for, an outright rejection was not on his list. “It’s me, Aunt Martha, Alfred! I got your letter that you needed help with Uncle Will and the ranch!”

Martha shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. You’re not my nephew. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She started to shut the door.

Tuttle quickly slapped his hand against the wood, holding it open. “Now, wait just a doggone minute. Did you not send a letter back East, asking for help because Uncle Will had suffered an affliction? Why are you acting like this?”

Unseen by Tuttle, Graziella quietly passed Martha the loaded shotgun. She stood ready to lend her weight to shut the door in Tuttle’s face.

“Young man, I’m sorry if you’ve come all this way for nothing. Now, my husband is ill and I have no time for visiting. Good day.” She took advantage of Tuttle’s bewilderment to close the door in his face and lock it. She whispered urgently to Graziella, a plump woman who had a mind like a steel trap and the reflexes of a rattlesnake. Graziella nodded and slipped toward the back of the house.

Martha very carefully moved the curtain aside. Tuttle was standing, completely nonplussed, on the porch. After a few seconds, his face settled into a determined look and he stomped off the porch, presumably to head back to town and rethink his options.

“I hope Graziella can find Clayton,” Martha said to herself, then hurried upstairs as she heard Will’s weak voice calling for her.

66

The noontime stage was early and headed toward Anderson’s Gulch, via Solace - the bridge over Westwood Ravine had yet to be repaired. Its driver and sole passenger took note of the pairs of men that were running every which way. “Looks like some commotion goin’ on.” said the driver.

“Indeed.”

A while later, a shot rang out and a voice demanded “Halt!”

As the driver obliged, his passenger shouted, “What is this? A hold up?”

“Just step out where we can see you!”

The stage door swung open and out stepped a youngish looking man, his true age betrayed by a shock of neatly kept hair and Vandyke beard, both grey. “I suppose you want me to raise my hands?”, he asked while doing so.

“Where you headed?”

“Anderson’s Gulch!” By now, the passenger had picked out his interregators. Not very well hidden to his trained eye but probably sufficent for anyone else. These didn’t look like robbers, most likely they were involved with the others that had been seen earlier.

“State your business!”

“Employment!”

The interrogators talked amongst themselves for a bit, then yelled “Proceed!”

With the passenger reboarded, the rest of the trip was uneventful.

Due to the recent events, Zeke decided to meet the stage lest any more surprises creep in. He still wasn’t quite prepared for what was to happen. “Howdy, uh, Sheriff?”

“Yep. Sheriff Clayton. Does that bother you?”

“Not at all.” The fellow with the Vandyke beard stepped down, revealing that the sheriff had a good six inches on him. “I heard your town is looking for a librarian.”

Zeke tried to stifle a laugh but wasn’t very successful.

“S’okay, I get a lot of that lately.”

Relieved, Zeke laughed a bit more. “Mind if I ask why you picked this town?”

“Sounded like a good place to settle down. You see, I retired not too long ago and was looking for somewhere quiet. Tell me, is all the commotion normal?”

“Not at all. Everything was pretty much fine for the past couple of years. We’ve had two apparent murders recently and now a kidnapping.”

The stranger thought for a moment, then flashed a badge at Zeke. “Sounds like I showed up just in time, Sheriff Clayton.”

Zeke was floored. Surely, that badge didn’t say what he thought it did! “Let me see that again.” The stranger smiled and handed over the badge. It read PINKERTONS, plain as day.

“I think we should keep this quiet for now.”

“Agreed, Mister…?”

“Knight. Percival Knight”

67

As Tuttle rode back towards the Gulch he considered how to proceed next. Martha’s ploy had stymied him, but it could only be a temporary reprieve for her. He had family documents, and a photo, to prove his identity. Then there were the powers of attorney he had tricked his brother out of. So he needed a lawyer.

As he continued south he decided he’d make finding Nichols his first priority. The plans he’d made, when he heard about the ranch and it’s resources, would not be put off by a former housekeeper. * Not when he’d already had murder done.*

Up ahead he saw a wagon and a carriage stopped on the road. A pair of men on horses, were talking to the drivers, but as he watched the vehicles geed up and came towards him. Largely uninterested, he did notice the woman with the red hair under her hat. Quite a looker he thought, and the young girl in the wagon wasn’t far behind in that department. He thought he’d have to see about finding a woman later.

By the time he made it to town Tuttle was tired and dusty. After getting cleaned up he considered how to find Sam. Retracing his way to the Tumbleweed he noticed the “Bank” that he’d seen Nichols head to once. Stepping inside, it took only a couple of questions, and a small bribe, to find out where Sam was keeping himself. As he tapped at the drab back door of the weathered house where Sam had rented a place, he heard some scuffling sounds inside, the footsteps approached. “Who’s there?” Nichols voice called roughly, from behind the door. “Nicky, it’s me” said Tuttle, in a low voice. “We need to talk” The door opened a crack, then wider, as Sam saw his visitor. “Come on in quick!”

“Thank God you’re here!” he hissed

“What’s going on?” Tuttle laughed, as he heard the scuffling again. “You got a girl hiding in there?”

“Actually I do.” was the surprising reply.

It took a while to explain about Alice, and for Tuttle to tell about his initial failure at the AAA. Neither of the two were put off by the actions of the others, though.
Crying started coming out of the closet, and, with an oath, Sam got up and opened the door on the scared little girl. She shut up as he poured her a little glass of water, then, when she started to blubber “momma” again he shoved her back.

Tuttle had a thoughful expression. Thinking hard, he rubbed his chin and said “You can’t keep that kid much longer, till tomorrow at the latest. Look, you want to be a hero?”

Nichols barked a short, sarcastic laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Well, if you help me find a shyster in this town who can deal with my biddy aunt, and who isn’t too fussy, I think I know how you can make capital out of the brat.”

“A shyster, huh? Well, look no further” Nichols chest swelled a little in arrogance. “I’m licensed to practice law. You have to know the loopholes to get by in this cold, cruel world. Now tell me what you have in mind. I have an idea the next few days are going to be very interesting.”

68

There was one person in Anderson’s Gulch who wasn’t unhappy at all about the chaos surrounding the deaths of Hastings and Goldstone, and the disappearance of Alice Norman. That was Sam Hawkins, the newspaper owner.

Well before sunrise on Friday morning Sam arrived at the office, after a short night, to print up that week’s copy of the Jackson County Democrat. He’d given himself extra time, as he expected to print extra copies of the paper, with big headlines on the murders, and Alice, along with non-local telegraphed news.

Hawkins hadn’t volunteered for any search parties, but he’d asked a lot of his nosy questions, and he knew that the little girl had not been found at once. It was a mystery to most how Alice could simply have vanished without a trace. Sam had seen the meeting between Sheriff Clayton and a stranger who’d been on the latest stage, but he didn’t know yet what that was all about.

Whistling, Hawkins unlocked the door to the Democrat, and as he did something fell to the ground. He leaped back but laughed to himself when he bent down an picked up a piece of paper that had been wedged into the doorseam. Unfolding it he read, in shaky, penciled handwriting "My partner tryed crossing me, I dont want to go to jale. Try looking in the Rushan caravan for the girl. "

All Sam Hawkins senses went on high alert. This could only mean one thing. He looked longingly at his press and the paper that was stacked there, ready for printing. He already had the front page set. What a story! But even Sam Hawkins had a conscience, and so he closed the door and went tearing off down the street, heading for the sheriff’s office. but as he ran he was composing a new front page in his head.

To keep her quiet and sleepy Sam had dosed Alice Norman with a little brandy in a glass of water. The hungry, exhausted and bewildered child had quickly fallen asleep. She didn’t feel a thing when wound into a blanket and balanced like a traveling bundle on a horse, or when she was slipped into the traveling wagon formerly used by Yuri the knife thrower.

Sam Nichols chuckled to himself as he slipped silently away. When he’d sent Yuri away he told him to wait at least a day before returning. That was about up now, he would hopefully return as arranged. Now he planned on backing off and keeping an eye on developments. He felt an enormous sense of satisfaction, that his own plans seemed to be meshing with Tuttle’s.

69

Upon reading the note left in Hawkins’s door, Zeke hollered to as many men as were nearby and galloped off to Rushan cave. It was actually the opening to an abandoned mine, near the Triple A ranch.

Nichols had thoughtfully wrapped Alice up in Yuri’s blanket and tied her feet together so she couldn’t wander off and get lost in the cave. The little girl was scared and wailing, and as Zeke reached the cave he thought he’d never heard a sweeter sound.

Alice was hidden in an alcove just inside the entrance, and Zeke had no problem pulling her out. She was dirty, sweaty, and rather smelly, but that didn’t stop her frantic father from tearing her from Zeke’s arm and hugging her close.

“Take her back home,” Zeke said, as Alice subsided into sniffles. “Get her cleaned up and I’ll try to talk to her, to see if she can tell us anything.”

Her father was already racing back to town. Zeke nodded to the other men. “Let everyone know, we found her,” he said, heaving a huge sigh of relief. Then, to his dismay, his stomach gave out a loud rumble. Glancing up at the sky, he was amazed to see the sun at its zenith. It was time for lunch.

As he stepped out of the cave he could see the Triple A ranch from its entrance. He watched as a rider stopped, then turned back toward him. He laid a hand on his pistol and waited.

To his surprise, a lovely woman with healthy meat on her bones reined her horse in front of him. Zeke’s jaw dropped as he stared at this vision, with her dark hair plaited into a neat braid and liquid brown eyes. “Your servant, ma’am,” he stammered.

“Sheriff Clayton?” she asked, glancing at his badge. “I am Graziella Marquez, the Anderson’s new housekeeper and cook. My mistress sent me to find you.”

“I will come at once,” Clayton said, in a daze. He climbed into his saddle and followed—Graziella? What a beautiful name!—back to the ranch.

70

The early afternoon sun shone on the growing thunderhead far to the southwest. As Mae watched it, she could actually see it growing. She hadn’t even noticed that was standing still right in the middle of the street.

“Sure to be a twister in that,” said Sam Hawkins behind her, startling her.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he offered, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” she returned. “I guess I’m just a little bit jumpy.”

“Understandable. Specially with all that’s been goin on here of late.” He eyed her questioningly. “You were looking at that there thunderhead, weren’t you, Miss?”

“Well, it had caught my eye, but I was actually first looking at the church bell tower. Something doesn’t seem right about it.”

The newspaperman squinted up at the tower, silhouetted slightly by the angle of the sun. An uneasy feeling came over him.

“Miss Fenno,” he said, “Would you please ask the sheriff to meet me in the church right away? I think someone’s been hanged in the bell tower.”

As she ran off to find Zeke, Hawkins took another look at the developing storm. “Yep. There’s gonna be a right nasty twister in that one,” he said to himself. “Hope it misses us this time.” And he nervously made his way to the church doors.

71

For those that are lurking, I made an error. I misread “caravan” as “cave.” For purposes of this story, let’s assume that the Wild West show is camped out near the Triple A Ranch and that the caravan is indeed Yuri’s. We can assume that Yuri, being a new member of the troupe, has a less than ideal location for his caravan, a little apart from everyone else. After all, he is a furriner. So, instead of an alcove, Alice was found tucked under Yuri’s cot, and Zeke, being a fair man, is not going to automatically assume that Yuri is the kidnapper just because Alice was found in his caravan. I apologize for the confusion.

72

As he stepped into the empty church, Hawkins peered around from behind the door nervously. The shutters had all been closed from the last service and beams of sunlight shafted thru some of the wider slats, highlighting the dust in the relatively still air.

As he made his way towards the bell tower door, behind the pulpit, he was painfully aware that his progress across the squeaky floor was completely obvious to anyone who might have still been in the building. Gulping down the lump in his throat, he stilled himself by noting that only the brave and inquisitive newsmen get the good stories.

The door to the bell tower entry was ajar and noticed bootprints in the red dust covering the floor and stairs. It looked like the prints pointed in both directions, up and down, so he figured that there was likely no one still there.

Didn’t calm him very much, tho, nor did his pathological fear of heights help as he made his way up the narrow, dusty stairway. About every ten steps, the stairs opened up to a landing and turned around 180 degrees, so the top of the tower was effectively hidden from his view.

By the time he had steeled himself to the task of making it to the top, a slight wind had begun to blow. Steadying himself needlessly in the open bell tower, he slowly approached the figure hanging just the other side of the bell. A sudden gust of wind blew the figure directly at him, startling him with both fear of falling and the realisation that the figure was light enough to be blown around.

Grasping hold of the figure, he saw that it nothing more than a couple of sacks tied up to mimic a body from afar. A crude note was pinned to the chest area, the poor penmenship spelling out, “Our darkie Sherriff - DEAD!”

Another gust reminded him of how high up and seemingly (to his fear) unprotected he was. From the high vantage point, tho he thought he saw a figure standing down by the gunsmith shop, then quickly limping away. From the other side of town, he saw what must have been Zeke and two other men running towards the church.

73

Zeke, Percival Knight, and Dave McReynolds pounded up to the church, fearful of what they were going to find at the top of the tower. The last thing Zeke wanted was another death to deal with!

What the trio found was possibly worse. Knight’s brow furrowed in thought as he examined the note, Dave began cursing softly under his breath, but Zeke’s face turned to stone, and he turned away without other reaction. He felt as if a hammer blow had been dealt to his chest. This town had been good to him, not like when he was growing up. Just this afternoon he’d met a beautiful woman, and she seemed to like him too!

Now this. Maybe he’d been kidding himself that the Gulch was a safe place. Maybe, maybe … He felt a hand shake his shoulder, and his blank eyes snapped into focus.

“Sheriff Zeke? Sheriff? You listenin’ to me?” Dave gave his shoulder another shake.

“I hear you” came the flat voice.

“Sheriff, I don’t know who did this, but they’re scum! We all know you, it can’t be somebody from the Gulch.”

“You think that huh, McReynolds?”

“Well, I know you’re a good guy! It doesn’t matter that you’re a, I mean, I don’t care that you’re…” Dave stopped, turning beet red, wishing he could find a crack in the floor to trickle away into.

Zeke gave a mirthless chuckle. He knew Dave was a fine young man, just prone to trip over his tongue, but before he could speak again the four men in the tower heard another set of footsteps pounding up the stairs. The Rev. Gray emerged onto the landing. His face showed relief when he saw the “body”, but then, wordlessly, Percival Knight handed him the note. His eyes blazed with a fire that wasn’t exactly heavenly.

“Who in blue blazes has the unmitigated gall to do this in our church?” he raged. “When I find out I’ll whip him up one side and down the other!” He went on in the same vein for a minute or two, until winding down and catching his breath. He looked at the others. “Sorry, I just let the devil get hold of me. Let’s cut this thing down and get rid of it.”

As Zeke and Rev. Gray cut down the dummy,Knight questioned Hawkins about his first sight of it. The group trooped down the stairs, and Hawkins, fidgeting, took off for his newspaper offices, his head tipped down against the wind, which was blowing harder. He was a journalist after all. Zeke sent Dave back to the sheriff’s office, and the Rev. Gray turned into the church itself, to make sure nothing else had been disturbed.

“Sheriff Clayton, where’s the best place to get some coffee about now? And it’s almost time for supper, isn’t it? May I stake you to a good meal? I think we have some things to go over.”

Zeke pondered their options. “Well, the Phoenix serves decent food.”

“Let’s go then.”

Knight leaned forward slightly in his chair. The remains of supper were scattered on the table.

“Sheriff, not to put too fine a point on it, but it looks as if you could use someone with my background.”

Zeke twirled a fork in his fingers and heaved a sigh. “You’re right, I know that. I’ve not had to much trouble in the Gulch. For the most part rowdy drunks have been the worst of it. Some theft, some rustling. I can handle that stuff, handle it good. Up till now I thought I was doing a good job. But two murders, a kidnapping, and I hardly know where to begin, except for the questions I’ve asked.”

“Don’t put yourself down, sir. I’ve heard folks speaking of you. Now, let’s get down to business. Let’s go over what’s been happening, and start getting things straightened out.”

74

Zeke filled in as much as he knew, even throwing in Jesse’s arrest. “MacTavish over in Solace has backed off a bit, once I vouched for Jesse’s character. But he’s got a downed bridge and a dead schoolteacher, and his townsfolk want answers.”

Knight nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all if they were connected somehow. Now, tell me everything you know about your recent visitors.”

Zeke ran down the members of Prairie Dexter’s Wild West Show, and Captain Tuttle and Sam Nichols. After a visit at the Triple A, with Martha Anderson sharing her worries about her wayward nephew and the lovely Graziella’s excellent coffee warming his belly, he felt the need to tell Knight everything, even about the Triple A’s new housekeeper.

“I think I shall have a conversation with Tuttle, first,” Knight said, wiping his mouth. “He seems to be the most nefarious. And Nichols will be next. I want to know exactly what his past is with this May Fenno lady.”

Both men jumped as the sound of gunfire erupted outside. Zeke grabbed his hat and ran outside, with Knight right on his heels.

75

Running down the street a short ways, to where a two clusters of people had gathered. Amidst one, Zeke and Knight found Sam Nichols lying in the street, bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in his shoulder. Attempts were being made to staunch the flow, and a bystander said the doctor had been summoned.

No such aid would be needed for the other man in the street. He’d been shot in the chest, twice. Nobody seemed to know who the dead man was, but when Zeke took a look at him he knew he’d seen him somewhere before. Going through his pockets gave no clue, there were no letters or cards to provide identification.

Doctor Macaulley had arrived and was examining Nichols, who was cussing up a storm due to the pain and the shock.

“Hold still and let me cut this shirt away further, I need a clear field to see what’s been done. I said hold still! Or this is going to hurt a lot more than it needs to.”

“You old fart, this shirt cost me five dollars! I ought to bill you…Oww! Ah, shit!! You poked me on purpose!” exclaimed the injured man.

“You bet I did. Ah, there we go” said the doctor, as he extracted the bullet. “I’m going to pack this shoulder and we’ll haul you back to my clinic to finish the job”

Percival Knight watched the efficient motions of the old doctor and was impressed. A big city man himself, he hadn’t expected the level of expertise that Macaulley exhibited.

As Nichols was lifted onto a stretcher Zeke tried to question the man who’d been so hateful to him.

“Nichols, can you tell me who the dead man is? What started all this?”

“I shot him in self defense! He wasn’t anything to me, and you can’t make out like it was!”

Zeke sighed in exasperation. “I’m not trying to blame you.” Yet, that is, he thought. I’m just trying to figure out what happened."

Doctor Macaulley spoke up. “Sheriff Zeke, I know you need that facts, but you’ll have to hold off just a while. I need to get this man inside and out of this weather.”

Drops of rain had started to fall, out of the black clouds that had now been blown overhead. It was only mid-evening, but by now all the light seemed to have fled.

Knight tapped Zeke on the shoulder. “Sheriff Clayton, I can identify the dead man.”

“You know him?”

“He’s one of the reasons I’m here. He’s John Starling, the man that Mr. Parker, then you, told you about. I expect this Sheriff McTavish from Solace can confirm my identification.”

“Well damn, I thought I’d seen him before, now I know from where, that mess a few years back.”

“And more ‘mess’ since his release from prison. That stage that fell into the ravine? He may have had a hand in that, and trying to pin it on Mr. Jesse Parker was a side benefit. I think now that before I talk to Tuttle I need to find out what was going on between Starling and Nichols. The latter doesn’t have such a savory reputation in my circles, that I can tell you.”

“And so can I!” came the hard voice of May Fenno, who had come up to the pair without them seeing her approach. “It’s about time you knew what a piece of work he is!”

76

The rain was coming down harder. The townspeople squealed as they ran for cover. Zeke, Knight, and May all ran for the jailhouse.

Huffing like horses as they reached the shelter of the snug jailhouse, Zeke stirred up the coals on the stove to heat it for coffee while Knight made his introductions to May.

May sat down, exhausted. “I’ve been running for nigh on four years,” she said. “I can’t run anymore.”

“Tell me,” Knight said.

She sighed. “About 10 years ago, I was working as a teacher in San Francisco. My sharpshooting was just a hobby at the time, but it didn’t seem very respectable, you know, to make a living at it. So I taught school.”

She paused as Zeke handed her a towel. She patted her neck and face. “There was a little boy, Walter Devon, in my school. Sweet, adorable little boy. He didn’t like reading much, but that boy could add sums quicker than anyone I’d seen. His parents were farmers, trying to get a winery started.”

Knight nodded. He’d heard of Walter Devon, of course, but he didn’t let May know. He wanted to know what she knew.

“Anyway, one day, Sam Nichols comes around. He seemed like a nice man, and he started courting me. Little did I know it wasn’t me he was interested in.”

Zeke frowned. “What did he want?”

May grimaced. “I was a schoolteacher. He was interested in my students, particularly the younger boys.”

Zeke shook his head. “I don’t understand. Was he looking to hire help?”

Knight snorted. “Hardly,” he said. “Go on, May.”

“Sam would always manage on our rides together to pass nearby farms owned by families with young boys. Then, one day, he vanished. Along with little Wally.”

Zeke sat down, a sick feeling in his stomach. “Did you look for him?”

“The whole town turned out and searched for weeks. Wally went to bed one night, and the next morning, when he wasn’t up for his chores, his father went to wake him. He wasn’t there. Then the town realized that Sam was gone as well.”

May’s eyes began to well. “They blamed me too. After all, Sam was my beau. They burned down my house. They barred me from the schoolhouse. I left.”

Knight nodded. “Then what? Obviously you found Nichols again?”

“I ran into him, quite by accident, about six years later. I was in some little southern California town. By that time I was tired of starving and was doing my sharpshooting act. I blamed myself for Wally’s disappearance. If I’d only been more astute! If only I’d picked up on the clues! So, I’m doing my act for spare change outside the saloon in town, and after I’m done, I see Sam. He’s just standing there, smirking. I ran up to him and asked him what he’d done.”

Zeke turned to the stove as the coffee started to bubble. He poured for Knight and May, but his stomach was churning too much to partake any himself. They all jumped as thunder crashed outside.

“What did he say?” Zeke asked.

“Oh, I can’t repeat it. It’s too horrible. Something about a Sultan and how he loved buying little boys with sweet–” May gagged at the memory. “I screamed at him. I told him I’d turn him into the law. He laughed at me, saying that he’d say I was involved.”

She shrugged. “I was alone. No one would believe a street performer. So as he turned and walked away I plugged him in the leg. Then I ran.”

May sipped her coffee. “About a month later, Dex comes up to me and asks me to join his act. It was good pay and I’d be traveling, hopefully away from Sam. I was afraid he’d implicate me in Wally’s kidnapping. He could certainly blame me for laming him. But I hadn’t seen him these past four years. But I’m not going to run anymore. If he’s done this to Wally God only knows how many other little boys he’s done it to.”

“Do you think he found you by accident again?” Zeke asked. “Quite a coincidence, you both meeting up here after four years.”

“I think Sam is getting old,” May said. “If he’s been kidnapping boys for the last ten years someone is starting to get suspicious. He must be planning to get out of it. If the Sultan will let him,” she added ominously.

“More than just suspicions, Miss Fenno,” Knight said. “We have hard concrete proof. In fact, we think one of his former victims is here.”

“Here! What do you mean?” Zeke exclaimed.

“We think that after the Sultan is tired of them, he kills them, or has them killed,” Knight said grimly. “We believe that in addition to procuring, Nichols may also be the man who cleans up the mess.”

May’s jaw dropped. “Then how is one of his victims here?”

Thunder crashed again. “We think at least one of them escaped,” Knight said. “And Nichols is here to make sure he never reveals what happened to him.”

May sat stunned. “Then Sam must finally believe me a threat also,” she said slowly. “Since I can attest to his interest and what he admitted to me. But how did he know to find me here?”

Zeke frowned. “When did Prairie Dex start drinking, you said?” he asked. May and Knight looked at him, confused by the apparent non sequiter.

“About six months ago,” she said. “He started getting letters. After he read them, he’d burn them and grab the bottle. I tried to talk to him about it once but he screamed at me. I’d never seen him like that. So I started taking on more and more of the management of the show, trying to ease his mind.”

Knight snapped his fingers. “Sheriff, I am honored to be working with you. We were wondering how Nichols was able to track Miss Fenno all this time.”

“Track me? What are you talking about?”

Knight smiled kindly at May. “I believe in coincidences, Miss Fenno, but I don’t trust them. I think it’s time we find out exactly how and why Prairie Dexter decided to pluck you from obscurity.”

May looked from Zeke to Knight, confused, then gasped as her mind made the connection.

Then she screamed.

77

Her scream was drowned out by an immense peal of thunder. As the rumblings died down, her scream morphed into great racking sobs. The full import of the treachery surrounding her life had hit her, and it was enough to make her loathe life itself.

Zeke and Percival eyed each other embarrassedly, neither one of them knowing how to sooth the ache that enveloped Mae. Zeke reached out his hand to her as the outside door blew open with a great gust of wind. The sound they then heard shocked everyone out of their current enlightenment and filled them with dread.

There was only one thing that made a nose like that. Rushing to shut the door, Zeke saw the rain wrapped funnel sillouetted by an almost continue display of lightning, both behind it and around it. The massive vortex looked just like what the stovepipe of the jail’s wood burning heater and stove might appear to a field mouse.

Zeke stood almost transfixed by the sight. He had seen tornados from every sort of advantage point one could, even having been in some that damaged his childhood home. Of course, back then, any time one came tracking near him, he was able to take shelter in a cellar. Whether a root cellar or one made just for tornado didn’t matter, everyone knew you were safe if you were underground.

The jail had no cellar. In fact, only two buildings in the entire town had one, the church and the saloon/hotel/restaurant. Both of those buildings were across the street and down the road from where they were now.

In addition to that, the funnel was massive. More massive than he could have ever imagined that a tornado could be. He felt short of breath and as tho his very skin was peeling from him as the maelstrom made its way closer to them. Large chunks of misshapen hail thumped on the ground outside and clattered on the roof, almost drowning out the roar of the storm.

As he stood in the doorway, he saw the ominous solid cloud engulf gunsmith shop right next door, splintering it instantly into rubble. A broken two by four slammed into his gut, the broadside of the board impacting just below his heart.

Thrown back by the force of impact, he lay on the floor in shock, barely noticing that Percival was dragging him into the jail cell, and shoving all three of them into the corner of the cage furthest from the door. At the last moment, he grabbed the mattress from the bed and covered them.

The roar was deafening as something kept pelting them as the jail self destructed around them from the force of the giant tornado.

As soon as Percival was sure they had indeed died, it was all over. Unable to hear anything at all from the ringing in his ears, he tried to move whatever it was that was pinning them down. An unbelievable pain shot thru his leg as he saw the ramrod piercing his thigh by the eerie light. He became woozy and everything went dark.

The pile of debris inside the twisted metal cage lay motionless as the storm wound its way out of town towards the local homesteads and farms.

78

Being high summer it wasn’t past sunset yet, but the night would be coming soon. The eerie quiet that hung for a while over the town of Anderson’s Gulch was now pierced by the shouts of those anxiously searching the rubble for survivors, hurrying against the coming dark.

Nearly a quarter of the town lay in ruins. Some buildings that had survived, had a lot of their internal furnishings sucked out through windows that had been open to dissipate the summer heat.

Dr. McCaulley’s clinic had survived, luckily, but he knew he was in for a rough time. He’d been contemplating retirement, but the townsfolk just couldn’t bear for him to quit. Now he was old and tired, but he headed out the door with his black bag, grimly determined to do his best, for those that had been injured. He had to leave Sam Nichols alone in the clinic, but at least he was sleeping under the influence of the sedative he’d been given, after he’d been shot by Starling.

“Doc!” “Doctor MacCaulley!” “Here!” Over here! Voices came from all around and Jonas MacCaulley ran from injury to injury, setting an arm here, bandaging a bleeding head there. Many smaller hurts would have to wait, and the doctor wished he had Mose Doubletree there to help him. “Woof!” he thought to himself, huffing and puffing, "This town needs a younger doctor. I’m just gettin’ too old for this!

Men were beginning to carry lanterns by the time the ruined jail was reached. Pieces of the roofing were pulled off by a team of hitched up mules, then the jail cage was reached. “Anyone there?!” someone hollered. A scuffling noise was heard, then groans and a feminine toned voice calling “Get me out of here!” Anxious hands and shovels pulled away wood and brick, and Danny, Sally’s would be beau, ran up with a wrench and a metal file, tools from the blacksmith shop, which also had luckily survived. The young man was the center of all eyes as he manuvered and filed at metal bars, to free those trapped within.

May was brought out first. She could hardly believe it, but for a few scrapes and bumps she was largely unhurt. Between the men’s bodies, the mattress, and the jail cell, she’d been cushioned in a small open pocket of space.

Zeke wasn’t so lucky. He was awake, but according to MacCaulley he had three or four broken ribs, from when the board had struck him across his torso. the board’s end, that had been near his heart, had gouged a bloody wound that had just missed puncturing his chest wall. “Get to Knight!” he gritted, as he was placed on a stretcher, after being bandaged. Knight was found unconscious, with the bar speared through his thigh. As the doctor looked at it he wondered, with so much blood lost, if he could save the leg. He’d amputated before of course, but he hated doing it. “You there!” he snapped, as he pointed at four more rescuers. “get this man back to my place, I can’t work on him here.” As Knight was carted off Silas Jenkins, the undertaker, hurried up to MacCaulley.

“Doc, my place is gone, smashed to kindling, coffins and everything. Horses too.” and here his narrow face twisted in a pained grimace. We got three dead so far, they’re going to the livery barn, but Rev. Gray sent to tell me that since your place can’t hold all that’s hurt, they’ll be at Zion Methodist. He’s got it opened up. We couldn’t use the school, it’s gone too."

“Thanks, Silas, that will be a help. Boys! Take Zeke here to the church, I’ll be over later.”

“Doctor!” and MacCaulley turned to see again May Fenno. “I’ll go with the Sheriff, and help out at the church. Seems I must have been saved for something, and Lord knows I know how to take care of scrapes and cuts, after teaching school.”

“That’ll do miss, that’ll do” said the tired grateful doctor. “Soon as I take care of Mr. Knight, is it? I’m going to need to rest myself, I’m about worn out. I’ll be over there when I can, to help out.”

The storm, before hitting Anderson’s Gulch, had angled in to the south of the properties belonging to the Charging Bears, the Parkers, and the Andersons. Those folks had of course seen it and taken shelter. Belle, Jesse, Tessie, and little George, had hidden in a root cellar that Jesse had dug as one of his first improvements to the property, when he’d bought it.

They emerged to find things unscathed, with dark clouds receding to the south.

“Jesse, it doesn’t hardly look like the Gulch can have escaped being hit!” said Belle, in a worried tone. “Let’s get some things together and go see what we can do to help.”

The bossing tone in his wife’s voice reassured Jesse that his wife was getting back to being herself again. He’d been worried about her for a good while. He gave her a mock salute, and a “Yes ma’am” as he turned for the barn.

But before he could go far a shout from the road reached them, and they saw the whole Charging Bear clan already approaching them, along with Mose Doubletree.

79

Mose had a large satchel with him, and as the Parkers came alongside the Charging Bears, he called over to them.

“Thought I’d bring along all my things” he explained. “I figure the teas and tonics can help calm a lot of folks, and that’s as good as anything sometimes. Got some stuff for pain too. You can’t heal the body without healing the mind I always figured. Oh, and Miz Parker, I have some more of those herbs I gave you before, so you can have enough for a while. No such thing as an instant cure, you’ll still need building up.”

“Why thank you Mose, I’d just been wishing for some more. It seemed to put new heart into me.” Belle was touched by Mose’ concern.

As the families neared the town they began to see more signs of the storms passage. On the west side of the road they saw a couple farms with damaged buildings. As they passed into the Gulch they pulled up at Zion, which had people swarming in and out, but looking further down the road the path of the tornado was plain, in a trail of smashed buildings. Mose jumped off the Charging Bear wagon and hurried inside the church.

“Oh Jesse, look! The schoolhouse must be gone! Will is going to be* so * disappointed when he gets back. What about the jail, and the Tumbleweed? They’re off that way. This is terrible!”

“Belle, honey, it’s getting on for dark. First thing we’ll do is find somewhere to put you and the children up for the night.”

Before he could go any farther Caroline leaned over from her wagon and said “Look, somebody’s bringing in Zeke Clayton! Looks like he’s hurt. Bet the jail’s gone.” Turning to her husband she said “Charley, you and Jesse go on into town and do what you can. We women can take care of ourselves for now. We’ll find someplace to bed down.”

Charley was a big man, but Caroline’s voice had an edge to it that he’d learned to respect. “C’mon, Jesse, I guess we men are going to have to obey our womenfolk.”

As the two left, and the wives tried to find a place to pull their wagons up Sally looked towards the church and gave a little squeal. She’d seen Danny hurrying along, following after Zeke. “Oh, Mama, please, let me go now, please?”

Caroline had followed her glance and in a sharp tone told her “Girl, first you are going to help me and Belle find places for the children. We may have to stay for a couple of days.”

“But Mama, if we do that someone will still have to go back and take care of things! Danny could help again couldn’t he? I could go ask him!”

“I think this time we’ll send one of the men back, but we’ll see.” Sally settle back with a small pout on her face. She loved her little brother but taking care of him could be such a pain sometimes!

A quiet voice spoke up. “Caroline, Belle, I’m glad to see you are well.” both women turned to see the strained face of Martha Hastings. "Oh Martha, " exclaimed Caroline, “I still can’t believe all that’s happened to you lately! Was your house hit?”

“We weren’t in the direct path, but we got shingles torn off the roof and the toolshed blew down. I don’t know about the store yet, Ed’s gone to see about it. But I got here and saw you.” She looked over the women and children. If you want, you can come stay with us, like you did before."

“Wouldn’t that be an awful strain on you just now?” asked Belle.

“If the truth be told, right now I welcome the kids, and the noise and crowding. Ed and Nancy, and Alice of course, are staying over. Their house was damaged. Having guests helps keep my mind off…things.”

Caroline made Sally happy by sending her into the church after all, to find Danny. “Girl, I don’t want no dawdling! You find that boy…” “He’s not a boy, Mama!” “…and ask him to help you haul our things to the Hasting’s house. I’ll be watching the time, missy.” Sally leaped off the wagon and hurried away, while Caroline and Belle took Tessie, George, and little Mose, and followed Mrs. Hastings.

The quiet of the Hastings house was broken in the wee small hours of the morning, by the shrieks of little Alice Norman, caught in a nightmare about a dark closet. “Mommeeee!” she screamed “he walked funny!”

80

The next day most people in town worked at clearing debris. A site out of town was designated as a temporary dump, and wagons went back and forth with broken lumber, brick, and other assorted trash, and store owners whose establishments had been destroyed sorted through the mess, looking for what they could salvage.

Surprisingly only five bodies lay at the livery barn, while men worked quickly to slap coffins together, since Silas Jenkins’ mortuary had been totally wiped out.

Zeke Clayton, inspite of his injuries, was proving a difficult patient to keep down. May did what she could for others at the church. Early in the morning she’d gone to find Prairie Dex, but he seemed to have disappeared, possibly lost in the storm. On hearing this the remaining members of his show gave up, broke their camp near the AAA, and took off for greener pastures. May wasn’t so distressed at being out of a job as she was worried about finding out what had really happened with her bow, now that the show had disbanded.

At the Hasting home family and guests worked to take food, extra clothing, and blankets to the church, and others who were now homeless. Jenny Hastings and Sally watched children, their own family’s and a couple of others. Alice seemed to have got over her nightmares from the previous evening, but she was much quieter than usual, just sitting watching the others, with her thumb in her mouth, something her mother thought she had given up.

Doctor McCaulley would have like to let Sam Nichols, injured as he was, be returned to his rented rooms, but that part of town had recieved heavy damage. Sam was making life difficult for everyone around him, being as demanding as possible.
Art Brown and Ferson Harris, former employees of Sam Goldstone, decided to search through what little was left of his store. Out of jobs they figured they’d take what they could. The small safe was intact, but they couldn’t open it, so the two left if for later. There were clothes and some tools as well. A heavy metal pole from God knows where had been thrust by high winds into the floor, like a spear, and so Art and Ferson tried to work it free, for metal salvage. To their surprise they found that there was a hollow space under the damaged floor. Tearing up the floorboards revealed a tiny cellar that neither of them had known about, although they could see now where the trap door to it had fitted. It looked like there was some boxes, covered up, down there, so the two looters threw a tarp over the hole to conceal it, until they could haul up whatever hidden goodies were down there.