Let There Be Light (30 page)

“Thank you, Mr. Wheeler. I very much appreciate your help.”

Wheeler stopped at the door. “Would you like this open or closed?”

“Close it, please.”

He nodded and closed the door. She could hear his rapid footsteps fading away.

Jenny looked at the spot where she last saw him and her mouth turned down. “You just see that they find the file, mister. I want Dan Tyler dead!”

She set her purse and satchel on top of the magazines, eyed the chair, then shook her head. She paced the floor for a few minutes, wringing her hands, then finally eased into the chair. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes and tried to think of just how she would shoot Dan Tyler and get away with it.

After a few minutes, she raised her head. “No, Jenny, there’s no use trying to plan it, now. You’ll have to figure it out once you find him and know the circumstances. But when I do find him, he’ll wish he’d never laid eyes on Captain William Linden!”

Suddenly the small room seemed to be closing in on her. She jumped from the chair and opened the door. “There. That’s better.”

She returned to the chair, and sat down with a sigh. Time seemed to drag. Every time Jenny heard footsteps in the hall, she looked up expectantly only to be disappointed. The person always passed on by.

Periodically, she glanced at the clock. When two hours had passed, she hissed, “Come on, Wheeler. Come on.”

Finally, after almost three hours, the footsteps she heard in the hall belonged to Eldon Wheeler. He came through the door, carrying a file folder, shaking his head. “Sorry, Miss Blair. Since we didn’t know what state Dan Tyler is from, it took longer than I thought for the clerk to find his file.”

“But you have it there, right?”

Wheeler pulled up one of the wooden chairs. “Sure do. I haven’t looked at it, yet.” He sat down and opened the file.

She waited patiently while his eyes ran over the first page. He flipped to the second page, read it over, then looked at Jenny. “Mr. Tyler is from Chattanooga, Tennessee, and he has a good record as a Confederate soldier. Served in the cavalry for most of the War, then was transferred to Andersonville to be a guard.”

“Chattanooga,” Jenny said, rubbing her temples. “That’s in southeastern Tennessee, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right on the Tennessee-Georgia border.”

Jenny rose to her feet and picked up her purse and satchel. “Thank you, Mr. Wheeler. You’ve been a real help.”

Wheeler set the wooden chair back where it had been. “You’re welcome, Miss Blair. I’m glad we were able to find the file, even though it took so long.”

Jenny set the satchel down and extended her right hand. “Please tell the clerk I appreciate his effort, too.”

“Sure will,” he said, gently shaking her hand. “And if we can be of any further help, please let us know.”

Jenny nodded her head and hurried out the door. She hired another buggy outside, and her heart was racing while the buggy conveyed her to the railroad station.

She purchased a ticket on a train to Raleigh, North Carolina, where she would take another train to Chattanooga.

Two days later, Jenny’s train arrived in Chattanooga at ten o’clock in the morning. Bone weary from the long days and nearly sleepless nights since leaving Harrisburg, she picked up her purse and satchel and followed the other passengers from the coach.

When she walked out of the terminal onto the street, it hit her that she was in the very city where Dan Tyler lived. She patted her purse, feeling the lump made by the revolver inside. The revenge she sought was almost in her grasp. This thought gave her a fresh boost of energy, and the weariness she had felt was gone.

She made her way to the line of buggies and approached the first. The youthful driver was giving his horse a drink from a bucket as she drew up. He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be finished in a second or two. Where can I take you?”

The horse was slurping the last of the water in the bottom of the bucket.

“I’m here to look up an old friend of the family. I don’t know his address, but he lives here in Chattanooga. The conductor on my train said I needed to go to the Bradley County Courthouse—they would help me locate him.”

“All right,” said the young man, tossing the bucket on the floor
of the buggy, next to the driver’s seat. “County courthouse it is.”

He helped Jenny into the backseat of the buggy, climbed up onto the driver’s seat, and put the horse in motion. “Where you from, ma’am?”

“Pennsylvania.”

He nodded as they passed a heavily loaded wagon, pulled by two horses. “Well, welcome to the Deep South.”

Jenny wanted to slap the cap off his head and pull his hair out. She restrained herself. “Thank you.”

As the buggy made its way toward downtown Chattanooga, Jenny looked around. It was a beautiful morning. She noted the plentiful pink and white dogwood trees along both sides of the street. Their pleasant scent rode the gentle breeze that brushed her face. She breathed in the delightful aroma, smiling and allowing herself to enjoy it.

The pleasure of the aroma lasted only a few minutes, then the reality of her quest to find Dan Tyler set in. Once again, her young face put on its mask of determination. She was there to kill the man who had murdered her father and subsequently caused her mother’s death.

Soon, Jenny was out of the buggy and making her way inside the stately courthouse. She drew up to the reception desk. A middle-aged woman smiled at her. “May I help you, young lady?”

Jenny explained that she was trying to find an old family friend who lived somewhere in Chattanooga and needed help in locating him. The receptionist gave her directions to the proper office, and a few minutes later, she was standing before the desk of a matronly looking woman in her late fifties. “Can I help you, dear?”

“I sure hope so. I’m from up north, and I’m trying to locate a man named Dan Tyler. He was a sergeant in the Confederate army during the Civil War. I was told by the military records people in Richmond that he lives here in Chattanooga.”

The woman smiled. “Well, you’ve come to the right person. I know Dan.”

Jenny’s pulse quickened. “You do?”

“Mm-hmm. Actually, I knew the whole family. They didn’t live here in Chattanooga, however. They had a cattle ranch some twelve miles west of here.”

Jenny’s features pinched.
“Had
a cattle ranch? You mean they’re not there anymore?”

“Correct. The ranch no longer belongs to the Tyler family. Dan’s parents both died several years ago. He was an only child. While Dan was away in the War, he had renters living on the ranch to take care of the place and the stock. When he came home in April, after the War was over, he sold the place to a family named Freeman.”

The weight of the woman’s words was pressing like a steel rod against her spine. “Do … do you know where Dan is now?”

“Sorry, I sure don’t. But the new owners probably know. I suggest you go to the ranch and ask the Freemans.”

This gave Jenny a thread of hope. “Can you tell me how to find the ranch?”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll draw you a map. It’s really an easy place to find. You can’t miss it.”

Jenny left the courthouse with the map in her dress pocket and hired a buggy to take her to the ranch. She felt relief when she showed the driver the map, and he told her he knew the area well. He had been past the ranch many times.

In just over half an hour, the driver turned the buggy off the road onto a tree-lined drive, and within seconds, Jenny got her first glimpse of the house Dan Tyler once called home. It was a large two-story white frame house that stood in a grove of trees, surrounded by an array of brightly colored flower gardens. A closer look showed her that the house could use a fresh coat of paint, but the magnificent flowers led her eyes away from that fact.

As the buggy drew nearer to the house, Jenny saw a middle-aged couple sitting on the front porch. They were watching the buggy, and when it drew close, they both stood up and walked down the porch steps.

The driver pulled rein. “Hello, folks. I have a lady here who would like to talk to you.”

The couple smiled at Jenny.

“I’m Ben Freeman,” said the man. “This is my wife, Florence. We haven’t met before, have we?”

Jenny smiled. “No sir. My name is Jenny Blair. I’m from Pennsylvania.”

She gave her story about Dan Tyler being the last man to see her father alive at Andersonville Prison Camp, then explained what she was told at the courthouse in Chattanooga, and said she desperately needed to find Dan Tyler. She needed to ask him some questions about what her father might have talked about before he died.

Ben scratched his head. “Well, Miss Blair, when Dan sold us the ranch, he told us he was going out west to meet up with two of his army pals and start a new life.”

“Do you know
where
out west?”

“No. Dan didn’t tell us.”

Jenny’s heart sank. “Would there be anyone around here he might have told?”

“Don’t have any idea. Guess all you can do is ask some of the neighboring ranchers and farmers. Dan might have told some of them exactly where he was going.”

Jenny spent the rest of the day having the buggy driver take her to the surrounding ranchers and farmers. None of them had any idea where Dan Tyler might have gone.

She had the driver take her back to Chattanooga, telling him she needed to stay in a hotel for the night. She explained that she would need one that was not too expensive. He recommended the Ridgeside Hotel, which was clean, but quite reasonable. It was also relatively close to the railroad station.

At the hotel, Jenny was directed to a small, but sparkling clean, comfortable room. When she laid her purse and satchel on the bed, her first inclination was to lie down and drown in its softness. But practicality dictated that she have a substantial meal. She hadn’t eaten since having a light breakfast in the dining car a couple of hours before the train arrived in Chattanooga.

She removed her hat, shook the road dust from it, and laid it on the bed. Then she moved to the dresser and looked at herself in the mirror.

Turning back to the bed, she opened the satchel and took out her comb and brush, as well as her night garments and a fresh dress for tomorrow. Returning to the dresser with comb and brush in
hand, she released her hair from its pins, letting it fall to her shoulders. She poured water from the pitcher into the washbasin and dipped in a cloth. She passed it over her dusty face, then dried it with a towel. Feeling somewhat refreshed, she drew the brush through her thick blond hair several times, then secured it at the nape of her neck with the pins.

She patted an errant strand into place, put the hat back on, then shook the creases from the dress she had been wearing since she left home. Moving back to the bed, she picked up her purse and opened it. She touched the revolver as if it were some prized possession, then took out the dwindling wad of currency, counted it, and put it back. With purse in hand, she left the room.

In the hotel dining room, Jenny chose a table near one of the windows. A diminutive young lady wearing a crisp white apron approached the table with a menu in hand. Speaking in a southern drawl, she said, “Good evening, Miss. Our special is a roast beef dinner with all the trimmings. Or you can order off the menu.”

At the mention of food, Jenny suddenly realized how hungry she was.

“The special sounds good to me. And a pot of tea, please.”

“All right. I’ll be right back with your tea.”

As the waitress walked away, Jenny eased back in the chair and let her gaze roam around the room. The place was almost full, and suddenly she realized that at every occupied table, there were couples or families. She was the only person there who was alone.

Her thoughts ran to her parents. Both dead.

Then to Nate Conrad. She had lost him.

Jenny sighed.
I see nothing but loneliness in my future
.

The waitress returned, carrying a tray with steaming teapot, cup and saucer, cream and sugar. She poured the tea into the cup, saying the roast beef dinner would be there shortly.

Jenny pushed the sugar bowl and small cream pitcher aside, picked up the cup, and took a sip. Her mind went to Dan Tyler. She felt frustration caused by the fact that she had failed to find the dirty killer. Now what? She was just too tired to think about it at that moment.

Soon her dinner was served by the waitress. Jenny managed to
devour most of it, and felt a bit more energy coursing through her body as she walked to the counter and paid the bill.

When she entered her room, she laid the purse on the dresser and took off her hat. With her mind on Dan Tyler again, and feeling the frustration of not finding him, she fidgeted and paced the floor. How was she going to stand it, knowing her father’s killer was walking free and unpunished somewhere out west?

Jenny’s pacing went on until deep into the night. Finally she sat down on the edge of the bed and resigned herself to the fact that the west was too big for her to be able to track Tyler down, even if she had the money to go out there.

She must accept it. She would never have the satisfaction of exacting justice on the man who murdered her father, and by so doing, took the life of her mother.

Feeling sick at heart, she prepared herself for bed, put out the lanterns, and slipped between the covers. Moments later, sleep claimed her.

Suddenly, Jenny was dreaming.

Time had slid back some ten years. She was on a picnic with her parents at the Harrisburg Park. Other families were there. Children were laughing, playing, and having a good time.

Nine-year-old Jenny was among them. She knew most of the boys and girls; they were her schoolmates.

While playing a game of tag with the other children, Jenny noticed a girl her age who she knew well, sitting alone at a picnic table, crying. Her name was Maggie Knowles. Maggie’s mother had died of consumption a few months previously. At the moment, Maggie’s father was playing horseshoes with some of the men on the other side of a stand of trees, and apparently thought Maggie was involved with the other children in their games.