Colorado Clash (12 page)

She slammed the door so hard the glass shivered.

Amy took Ned’s hands in hers. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just couldn’t help it. That old crone.”

“Don’t worry about it. Ralph called her out a couple of years ago just the way you did. That’s why she started using the stage.” He smiled. “I feel sorry for Ralph.”

Amy laughed. “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?”

But for all the humor of the moment, Mrs. Riley’s words worried Amy. The town was beginning to see Ned as the number one suspect. In a situation as volatile as this one, that was a frightening realization.

The woman who approached Fargo was the handsome blond sister of the dead man he’d discovered. Karen Byrnes had changed into a ruffled white blouse and black skirt. A red woolen shawl over her shoulders flattered her blue eyes and rose-colored lips. She carried a large cloth purse over one arm.

Fargo had just left the Gold Mine when she waved to him and hurried to meet him. After sitting with the Raines brothers he welcomed contact with a gentler soul. The way she filled out her blouse made talking to her even more enticing.

With the clatter and clutter of wagons and buggies behind her, she reached him slightly out of breath. “I’ve been looking for you for the past half hour, Mr. Fargo.”

“You could always call me Skye.”

“Skye, then. Thank you.”

The ivory skin was tainted only around the eyes. She’d been crying.

“You probably won’t like what I have to say.”

“I doubt that but let’s hear it first and see.”

She touched his arm with careful fingers. He liked that. “I’ve been playing detective. I promise I won’t do it again. But I thought of a woman named Ingrid Haller. Her son was one of the three boys killed. She told me about a man named Rex who saw somebody talking to the boys just before the first one was killed.”

“Did he say who?”

“No. Not to her anyway. I was wondering if you and I—”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I work alone. I’m not even taking Tom Cain along with me. But I appreciate your offer.”

Before he knew quite what she was doing, she slid her arm through his and began walking them down the street. A pair of lovers out for a stroll. That was the mood she was obviously trying to set. A smart young woman able to put her grief aside to get what she wanted. In order to find the man or men who’d murdered her brother.

“Rex is a recluse. For most people he won’t even come to the door. And he has a dog.”

“This seems to be the town for guard dogs.”

“Do you know Helen Hardesty?”

“Matter of fact I do.”

“Rex’s wolfhound is the father of Helen’s wolfhound.”

“Can’t wait to meet him. Helen almost sicced hers on me.”

“She’s a feisty lady.”

“I noticed that.”

“Anyway, Rex won’t talk to you. You’ll need me along.”

“He has an eye for beauty, then.”

“Why, thank you. But no, that isn’t it at all. I knew him growing up before he was a recluse. He was an usher at our church and I sang in the children’s choir. Once a week I bake bread for him and bring it over.”

“Makes sense. But just because he’ll let you in—us in—doesn’t mean he’ll tell us anything.”

“I think he can be persuaded.” She tapped her purse. “I’m bringing him this week’s bread. And not just one loaf but two.”

“A very enterprising young woman.”

“Well, if I don’t keep busy, I’ll lose my mind. Thinking about Clete—” She choked back tears.

Holding her arm closer to his side, he said, “Then let’s go see Rex.”

 

Eyes.

A few weeks ago when Ned Lenihan walked down a Cawthorne street everybody had a smile and a hello for him. Made sense. Lenihan was generally a mild and friendly man to just about everybody. From helping people build their barns to giving money to those in need, Lenihan was known to care deeply about the welfare of other folks.

A few weeks ago that had all changed. The secret strongbox filled with money. The robbery. The murder of the Englishman and driver. The murders of the three boys. And now it was all changed and likely changed forever.

Eyes.

As he walked to the sheriff’s office he stared into the faces of old friends and found strangers. Found in those eyes distrust and contempt. Found in those eyes anger and a certainty that he had been involved in all of it.

The gazes lashed him. Even the few who spoke to him only grunted, as if they were embarrassed to even acknowledge his existence. What was the word in the Bible? Pariah. Yes, that’s what he’d become. A pariah to his own town.

When he finally reached the sheriff’s office, he noticed that people stopped in their tracks to watch him. Did they think he was going in there to confess? Wouldn’t that be a good show for them all?

He opened the door and pushed in.

Pete Rule sat behind the small desk to the right of Tom Cain’s. Lenihan was both disappointed and relieved. Disappointed that he wouldn’t have his confrontation with Cain and relieved that the confrontation wouldn’t happen. His feelings were all crazy these days.

Rule had been writing on a large pad of paper. His eyes showed surprise when he saw who it was. “Morning, Ned.”

“Cain not around, Pete?”

“Over to the courthouse.”

“Oh.” Lenihan stood there looking around as if he’d never seen the sheriff’s office before.

“Something I can do for you, Ned?”

Lenihan appreciated Rule’s tone. The two had never been close friends but they’d always been friendly. Rule had had to suffer Cain’s arrogance the way everybody else in town had and Lenihan often found himself feeling sorry for the deputy.

“Well, I was going to talk to Cain.”

“Maybe something I can help you with?” Rule dropped the pencil he’d been using and leaned back in his chair. “You all right, Ned? You look pale.”

“I feel pale.”

“Why don’t you sit down in that chair there? How about some coffee?”

“Coffee would be good.” Lenihan’s voice was faint and he felt dizzy. He’d begun to sweat. He inched his way to the chair and sat down while Rule got him coffee.

“Here you go, Ned. You sure you’re all right?”

Lenihan took a deep breath as he accepted the tin cup of coffee. “It’s getting to me, Pete.”

“What is?” Rule said as he took his place behind his desk again.

“You know what I’m talking about. You know damned well what I’m talking about.”

Rule nodded. “It’ll blow over, Ned. You know how people are. They reach for the easiest answer. And for some reason right now you’re the easiest answer.”

“But it’s the wrong answer.”

“I know that and I tell everybody that.”

“The way I figure it, Cain’s behind this. He’s the one stirring this up.”

“Well—”

“You know it’s true.”

“How’s the coffee?”

“C’mon, Pete. Help me. You know Cain’s behind this.”

“It isn’t just Cain, Ned. It’s everybody. You work there. You’re in charge of things. It’s logical in one way—even if it’s wrong.”

“Is it logical that I killed those three boys—even if I was involved in the robbery, do you really think I could kill those three boys?”

“It isn’t logical to me. But people start talking and”—he leaned forward on his elbows—“you need to tell me everything you know, Ned.”

Exasperation in his voice, Lenihan said, “You’ve known me for twenty years. I recommended you for the job when Cain first came here before I knew what he was like. You’ve known Amy and her family longer than I have. And you’ve still got doubts about me, Pete?”

“I’m just being a deputy, Ned. That’s all. If you tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it, I’ll believe you.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“All right. I’m throwing in with you. I’m going to bring it up with Cain the next time I see him. He should be back here in a while.”

Lenihan paused. “You ever consider the possibility that Cain is behind all this?”

“Aw, c’mon now, Ned. Just because you didn’t have anything to do with it doesn’t mean that Cain did.”

“He’s still after Amy.”

“He gave that up.”

“That’s what he says. But think about it. With me out of the way he might still think he has a chance with her. He’s not the kind of man who gets turned down very often. And it embarrassed him. A lot of people sort of laughed about it and he knew that. Maybe this is his chance to get up a lot of money and take another crack at Amy. He’d have a clear field if I was out of the way.”

Rule went over and poured himself more coffee. He tipped the pot in Lenihan’s direction but Lenihan shook his head. Rule came back and perched himself on the edge of the desk. “You’re wasting your time thinking about that, Ned. And I’m saying that as your friend.”

The door opened and Tom Cain walked in. His eyes reflected his surprise at seeing Lenihan sitting across from Rule.

“You stop by to confess, did you, Ned?” The rueful, condescending tone Lenihan was used to hearing.

“You might be the killer yourself, Cain.”

“That’s just like a guilty man, isn’t it, Pete? Trying to put the blame on somebody else. We see that a lot, don’t we?”

“We were just having a talk, Tom.” Rule’s eyes met Lenihan’s. “And he wasn’t confessing to anything. He’s just worried that so many people think he’s the man we’re looking for.”

Lenihan was already on his feet. “I want you to stop spreading rumors about me.”

“And what makes you think I’m doing that?” He brushed past Lenihan, making sure he nudged him on the way over to his own desk. He took off his Stetson, hung it on the hat rack and then seated himself. “The people in this town aren’t stupid, Lenihan. They know you need money and they know you knew all about the money in the strongbox. Doesn’t take much to figure out who might be behind it.”

“How about you, like I said? Or the Raines brothers?”

“You accusing them, too, are you, Lenihan?” Cain’s smug manner only infuriated Lenihan all the more. “Pretty soon you’ll start accusing everybody who passes you on the street.”

“Easy, Tom. There’s no solid evidence against him. There’s just a lot of suspicion.” Rule’s voice was sympathetic and obviously irritated the lawman.

“You throwing in with him, are you, Pete? Seems to me you need to be a little more objective when it comes to suspects.”

“How about you, Cain?” Lenihan said. “How objective are you? You’ve hated me ever since you started chasing Amy around. You couldn’t stand the thought that she turned you down. You’ve been waiting for a chance to bring me down ever since.”

“If I wanted to bring you down, Lenihan, it wouldn’t take much. I’m older than you and not in the peak of condition but I’ll be happy to fight you with fists or guns anytime you name it.”

Lenihan’s mind blanked. Some unconscious force took over him. He found himself diving through the air straight across Cain’s desk, smashing into the startled lawman and knocking him out of his chair. He didn’t stop there. Before Rule could reach him, Lenihan struck Cain in the face twice. Despite the small size of his fists, he managed to bloody the lawman’s mouth and to give him a small cut above the left eye.

Rule shouted, “You’re just making it worse, Ned!” He got his arms around Ned’s shoulders and jerked the small man to his feet. Then he shoved him back several feet.

By now Cain was struggling to his feet. Shouting curses, touching the blood on his lips in disbelief. His eyes showed the insanity they often did when he was in any kind of altercation. As his hand dropped to his six-shooter, Rule shouted, “No, Tom!”

And to make sure Cain didn’t draw and fire, Rule lodged himself in front of his boss. “You need to simmer down and so does Ned.”

“Who’re you working for, Pete?” Cain shouted. “Me or Lenihan?”

“For you, Tom. But I sure as hell don’t want to see anybody get killed over this.”

“And what if he’s the one who killed those boys? Do you want to see him die then, do you?”

“I don’t believe he’s the one, Tom. But if he is, then I’ll have to see what I think then.”

“You get out of here, Lenihan,” Cain bellered. “Right now you’re hiding behind Pete. But if he wasn’t here you’d be dead, you understand?”

Rule faced Lenihan. Seeing that Lenihan was about to say something—still looking belligerent—he pushed him toward the door and said, “Out and out now, Ned. Right now!”

Lenihan, shaking his head, staring down at his bruised knuckles, looked up and scowled at Cain. And then, still shaking his head, left the sheriff’s office.

 

“What the hell’s that for?” Sam Raines said.

“I’d say that isn’t any of your business.”

“Well, since I’m the one that cleaned up all your puke a little while ago, I’d say it sure is my business.”

“Well, I’ve been known to clean up your puke when I need to.” Which was true. Sam did his own share of alcohol vomiting, too.

The shack behind the stage line had once been used for drivers to sleep in. It contained two cots, a potbelly stove, wooden flooring and no windows. One driver had remarked that it was one step up from a prison cell. No meals were made or eaten here. The Raines brothers had taken it over after the stage line got a reduced room rate from the worst hotel in Cawthorne for its drivers. At least the hotel rooms had windows and didn’t have the suffocating smell of men to whom bathing was often considered an offense.

After the confrontation with Fargo earlier, Sam had guided his brother back to the cabin where he had promptly sprayed chunky vomit all over the floor. Sam had stashed Kenny against a tree and then proceeded to swamp up the disgusting awful puke. He’d dragged Kenny inside and pitched him on his cot. And then he’d taken some sleep himself.

When he woke up he saw Kenny sitting on the edge of his cot holding his Winchester. Couple of things wrong here. Kenny wasn’t exactly a master with a rifle. Even when they’d been little boys hunting, Sam had been the one with the eye and the trigger finger. The second thing wrong was that Kenny’s shooting hand was wrapped in a bandage. And Sam could tell that it still hurt him because just in the past minute or two Kenny had winced three times. So what the hell was he doing with the Winchester?