Quickly, without being noticeable, he scans the area once more. There, at the end of the platform, someone is paying particularly close attention to the lawmen.
Quietly, John says, “Without drawing too much attention to yourself, at the other end of the station, we appear to have gotten an admirer.”
Joey bends down and adjusts the edge of her pant leg over her boot. Surreptitiously, she glances at the person and straightens back up. “Think that’s who’s been watching us for awhile now?”
So, she’s sensitive to people looking on, is she? I’m not surprised. John nods. “He looks a bit familiar, but I can’t place him. Can you?”
She shakes her head and says, “If he tries to follow me, stop him.”
Before John can ask what she means, she steps inside the train station and disappears into the gloom.
The man watching them looks on in interest, but keeps his gaze on John. After just a few moments of looking on however, he raises his hands as Joey sneaks up behind him and plants the barrel of her gun squarely in the man’s back.
John pushes off from the wall and walks over to where the marshal has her prisoner. As he approaches, he hears the man say, “Sargent Major Cardwell.”
Joey doesn’t look convinced, but holsters her gun. “Keep your hands where I can see them, but you can say your peace.”
The young man lowers his hands slowly and turns to John. “I’ve been looking for you for awhile, Sgt. Major. I come from Fort Reno. I have a message for you from Major Richards.”
Finally, John recognizes the young man as Trooper Jack Turner. “Where’s your uniform, Trooper?”
The young man looks pleased at being recognized. “I was hoping you would remember me. I’m not cavalry anymore. My enlistment ended and now, I’m on my way home to Fort Worth. Major Richards asked me to give you this message before I left the area. He paid me an extra twenty dollars to make sure it got delivered.”
“What’s the message?”
The young man looks at Joey. “It’s written. I have it in my vest pocket. May I reach for it?”
Joey nods. “Slowly. If I see you go for that derringer in your pocket, you die.”
He unbuttons the top button of his vest and slowly withdraws a wax-sealed, folded piece of paper, then presents it to John.
John breaks the seal and opens the letter, reading it. He looks at the young man seriously. “Did he tell you what this letter says? Have you read it?”
Turner shakes his head. “I don’t read other people’s mail.”
John sighs and nods. “He’s okay, Marshal. He can go home.”
Joey motions the young man on, then looks at John. “Mind telling me what that was about?”
John waits for Turner to be out of hearing range before he says quietly, “The message is coded.” He hands the letter over.
Lyttle sees the sky. Arbuckle is home. Walters has food. Logan has cream. Richards.
Joey looks at John, clearly confused.
John sighs heavily. “Told you it was coded.” He shakes his head. Quietly, he says, “Arbuckle was murdered by Lyttle, or someone close to him. Judge Logan set it up and Marshal Walters knows about it. He didn’t say how he knows, but I have no reason to doubt his word.”
Joey rocks back on her heels. “That’s quite the conspiracy, isn’t it?”
John nods and turns at the sound of the train horn. He folds the sheet up and puts it in the inside pocket of his vest.
Joey steps closer to the tracks and looks down the line. “Looks like close to a mile. What do you wanna do with this information?”
John strokes his jaw thoughtfully. “Dunno, yet. What do you think we should do?”
She shakes her head. “How well do you know Walters?”
“Twenty years ago, I would have said better than most. Now that I know he’s told Josh to live a lie this long, I can’t say.”
“We only have a few moments before this becomes an issue. Need we confront him with it?”
John frowns. He doesn’t know why Joey seems to be pushing a confrontation about this and is starting to worry she may push things if they’re not careful. “I can’t tell you. We have to be careful. We don’t have any proof that’s what happened. I think we might want to ask Walters a little more about it before we go much further. Just because Richards knows some of the details, doesn’t mean he knows them all.”
Joey nods. “Well, I think we need to find out. Otherwise, we’ll get in a mess of trouble.”
John nods and leans against a post set in the edge of the platform. “You got that right. Between this and Richard, we have enough to keep us busy for quite some time. My question is, how did Turner know to look for me here?”
With a quick glance at him, Joey shrugs and turns back to watching the train approach. The engine passes by them like a lumbering giant. Just as the train stops, the clothes of both lawmen are whipped around by the train releasing its steam.
The pair of them look through the crowd for the marshal, finding him searching through the crowd. When he sees the pair of them, his face breaks out into a smile.
As he approaches, he says in his deep voice, “Marshal, Deputy.”
John can feel the surprise on his face as he looks at Joey. “Did you tell him already?”
She nods, a little uncertain. “Hello, Marshal. We have quite the tale to tell, if you wouldn’t mind following us to get the prisoner.”
John looks at Walters a moment and asks, “Do you mind about my deputizing?”
Walters’ grin is wide as he says, “Of course not. I was hoping to find a way to get you in service as a deputy for me. Between you and Jake, it’s almost like my old command is back together.”
On the way to Lyttle’s office, both John and Joey describe the capture of Wheeler, and the attack here in Norman. Joey finally describes getting the telegram and her fears about Lyttle not being able to catch Richard.
Walters whistles several times during the description of the attack. As the narrative wraps up, Walters looks at Joey. “So, why aren’t you on the trail after that beast?”
Joey shrugs. “Lyttle beat us to the trail by half a day. We’re waiting to see if he comes back with him. Plus, we have to turn over the treaty.”
Walters grunts, noncommittally. “So, do you have it on hand?”
Joey nods, reaches inside her vest and then produces the tightly rolled document.
Walters looks at it a moment, then unrolls it. He looks over it quickly and rolls it back up, then stuffs it inside his own vest.
Just outside the sheriff’s office, John, tired of beating around the bush, asks in a flat tone, “What really happened to Major Arbuckle?”
“Didn’t you know? Ate his .45.”
John shakes his head. “Not so sure about that. Were you in town when it happened?”
“I was in Oklahoma-town. Why you ask?”
“Just curious. You know, hear a few things, get curious. Hear a few more things, ask a few questions. You know how things are.”
Walters shakes his head. “Not sure what you’ve heard, but the doctor that examined him said that it was suicide. He even left a suicide note.”
John opens the door and shows Walters in. Dawkins looks up from his desk and, on seeing the two marshals and deputy enter, stands. “Ma—Marshals! I’m—I’m glad to see you! To what do we owe this honor?”
John motions to the back at the cells. “Prisoner transfer.”
Dawkins nods. “I’ll be well rid of him. He makes more noise than Bessie, my mule.”
John looks at Joey and grins. “How about we make his day a whole lot worse?”
Joey smirks back. “Well, he deserves to know what’s in store for him, now that he’s tried to murder a marshal.” She turns and looks at the deputy. “Do you have a set of cuffs we can use for a few days?” She points toward Walters. “He can make sure you get them back.”
Dawkins looks at the three lawmen and sighs, then nods. He reaches inside the desk drawer and p
ulls out a pair of reinforced cuffs. “These are my personal set. Please see to it I get them back.”
Walters nods. “They’ll come on the next train down here.”
Ten minutes later, Wheeler proves to be more intractable a prisoner than expected.
After listening to the constant stream of complaints, foul language and the prisoner trying to bolt, twice, while still in the county jail, John raps the man on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Joey had the right idea, before. John looks at the man he just knocked unconscious with a deep sense of relief.
The cuffs are returned to Dawkins and Bessie is borrowed, temporarily, so the marshal can get the prisoner to the box car he is being transported in.
Once the prisoner is dropped off in the car, Walters gives a perfunctory wave bye and the train is on its way back to Guthrie.
John looks at Joey and sighs. As they walk Bessie back to the county jail, they discuss their impression of Walters’ response.
“He’s not exactly lying, but he’s not telling the truth, either. I could see it in his face. He knows much more than he’s saying, for a fact. Honestly, I think we need to look into it a lot more deeply, otherwise, we may be in a whole passel of trouble.”
Joey sighs disconsolately. “Investigating a senior marshal, a county sheriff, and a circuit judge leaves us open for an ungodly amount of political problems, but I think you’re right. We need to look into it.”
When they drop off Bessie, Dawkins informs them he still hasn’t heard from Lyttle and is beginning to get a little worried.
Once they are on their way back to the hotel at a sedate pace, John asks Joey tentatively, “Think we should bring Josh in on this?”
Joey thinks about it for several minutes. “All things considered, do you think we can trust him with this sensitive of information?”
John strokes his jawline. “I think so. Problem is, he’ll want to know the name of the informant and I wanna keep it quiet. Only reason he brought me in on this is because he trusts me to keep his name out of it all.”
Joey sighs heavily. “Good point. I honestly don’t know. I know pa trusts him, even considering he’s been living a lie the entire time they’ve known each other.”
“I don’t know that I do, but that’s just me,” John says sardonically. He shakes his head. “I guess we can try to feel him out, but since Walters is actually his boss . . .” He shakes his head again. “I don’t know.”
As they get in front of the hotel, John sees the ravages of the fire in Paul’s livery. The last time he saw it, it was in the gloom of dusk. He spends a moment just looking in dismay at the charred remains of his friend’s business. He sees what looks to have been some kind of a tool room, but isn’t certain that’s what it was.
He shakes his head, appalled. He’s not sure what Paul’s gonna be able to do to rebuild it, especially since he’s so hurt, now.
Joey sees where he’s looking and nods. “Yeah, it’s a depressing sight in the full light. He’s going to have to rebuild, but it’s gonna take some time. I just hope he can. Norman won’t be anywhere near the same without his livery being here.”
John looks at her seriously. “Norman won’t be the same without the Emerald Fields. Given how Sean is acting, I don’t know if he’s going to be able to keep it open.”
Joey shakes her head. “Sean may wanna give it up, but Brigit is gonna fight to keep it alive.”
“Think so?”
She nods. “Absolutely.”
As they go inside the hotel, John is surprised to see Josh helping Paul down the stairs.
John rushes forward to give his friends a helping hand.
Chapter 21
Jake looks on with wonder as Paul fumbles around with his fork. Poor fellow. Must be starving, he’s been out for the last few days.
Paul grunts in frustration as he continues to struggle, but no one is brave enough to try and offer to help feed him.
The large man has been awake for just about an hour or so. After answering the call of nature, his next words were, “Food. Now. No need for it to be cooked.” Jake laughed and helped him inside the restaurant.
John said the prisoner transfer and the hand-off of the treaty was smooth and easy.
Jake thought his blood-brother wasn’t telling him something, but decided to let it pass until he could be confronted directly later.
When Jake went upstairs to check on Paul, earlier, he heard Brigit and Sean’s voices coming from the young Irishman’s bedroom, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He’s glad they’re talking to each other. Now, at least.
He turns and looks at Andy. She is happily eating away at her lunch. When Paul made it to the table, the sweet little girl asked if he was alright and when he said yes, she started crying. Her tears are now dry and she is able to enjoy her meal.
Thankfully, today’s lunch is sandwiches. This is one of those days he hates the idea of cooking. Jake looks down at the piece of ham sitting between the hunks of bread and is struck with the feeling of being glad Laura did the baking for the week last Sunday, as the bread they have left is mostly fresh.
As Jake considers the food, there’s a sound that begins intruding on his consciousness. He looks around the table to see if anyone else happens to be noticing it. Both John and Joey appear to be paying closer attention than the others.
After a few moments everyone else perk up and the racket of the chairs moving out from the table is almost deafening.
Jake, John and Joey are the first out the door, guns drawn and hammers pulled back, then followed by David, Rebekah and Brigit. Andy hides in the kitchen without being instructed to.
The group is met just outside the door by a group of fifteen riders led by Lyttle. As the riders approach the hotel, Jake notices a couple of bodies draped over a horse.
From the looks on the riders’ faces, Jake guesses the mission wasn’t a complete success.
As the group comes to a halt just in front of the hotel, Lyttle dismounts and approaches.
The lawmen release the hammers on their guns and then holster them.
John steps forward. “Hello, Sheriff! Looks like your ride wasn’t a complete failure! C’mon in and we can figure out what to do.”
Lyttle motions to one of his men, points to the horse with the bodies and then in the direction towards his and Doc Lopez’s offices.
The rest of the men dismount without a word. Lyttle shakes his head at them and says, “You men go on home. I’ll get your money for you later today.” He puts his reins on the hitching post and follows everyone from the hotel back in.
Jake goes to the kitchen and tells Andy everything is safe for her to come out now. He grabs a pitcher of water, a glass and throws together a plate for the sheriff.
As he heads out to the restaurant with his daughter, carrying the plate of food and drinks, he sees that there appears to be a long table in the center of the room.
Most of the group of people are there, with the exception of Brigit and Sean. Jake hands the plate of food and cup with pitcher over to Lyttle, before seating himself across the table.
Lyttle nods his head and says, “Thanks. I haven’t had hardly any food for the last few days.” He sets the plate down, bows his head a moment, looks up and tears into the sandwich.
Jake seats himself across the table from the sheriff and turns to John. “Did I miss anything?”
John shakes his head. “In fact, I was about to ask the sheriff what happened, myself.”
Lyttle finishes his bite, swallows and says, “Food first.”
Jake laughs. “Well, at least he has his priorities straight.”
John sighs disconsolately, leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and levels a look at the sheriff. “Then, we’ll wait.”
Lyttle looks around at the people sitting at the table, watching him with expectant faces and sighs. He takes one more big bite, swallows it and says, “Alright! Fine! I get the point.” He shakes his head.
Jo
hn readjusts his position and smirks. “Figured you would see it my way. So, what happened?”
Lyttle drains his glass of water twice and sighs in contentment. He adjusts his position in his seat and clears his throat.
Jake stands up and helps Brigit get Sean into a chair.
Once everyone is seated and everyone has been able to get their drinks filled, Lyttle looks around once again, then sighs. “Alright. So you all know what happened leading up to my forming the posse and heading out on the Arapaho road, right?”
Everyone nods. Andy walks up to her father and holds her hands out, in a silent request to be held. He smiles down at her, picks her up and places her in his lap.
Lyttle looks at the young girl and frowns. “Anyway. So, after we left, the trail went almost due west. They were about two hours or so ahead of us, but weren’t trying to hide their tracks. The first afternoon and evening went quietly. We stopped tracking at full dark, about five miles inside the Arapaho lands. The following morning found us wandering around a bit as we had to find the trail again, but were underway quickly enough. We tracked them the rest of the day, but about halfway through the Arapaho lands, they turned northwest. I was surprised, because it looked like they were headed towards Fort Reno. Well, we made it just south of the fort’s lands and ended up seeing signs that we were being tracked by the Arapaho.”
He refills his cup and drains it. “So, it was close to the northern edge of the Arapaho lands that we found the bodies. From the looks of it, it appears that they just bled out finally. I want to have someone identify the bodies, though.” He looks around the table and receives several nods. He nods in affirmation. “So, last night, just before we thought to make camp, one of my men found a cow skull with two arrows jammed into it.”
Jake whistles low and looks at John. His blood-brother’s eyes are wide at the implications of the warning. “So, I take it you and your men rode all night to get away from the Comanche then, huh?”
Lyttle nods. “It was pretty late last night that we saw the Comanche War Party less than three miles behind us. We didn’t stop ‘til we got back to the unassigned lands. That was about two and a half hours ago.”
Deputy at Large Page 17
