by Julie Weston
Charlie Azgo stalked over to Pearl’s tent, his pistol drawn. “Out of there,” he ordered, lifting the flap. “And behind there,” he called. “Come out in front. Hands up!”
Pearl stepped out, standing clear of the tent, and Ned had no choice but to climb to his feet and move around to the front. Nell waited to see if the sheriff had spotted her. He motioned for the woman and the cowboy to step to the center of the camp, and he followed them. The sheriff hadn’t seen her. But now what was she to do? She couldn’t let Ned be packed up with the moonshiners. He wasn’t part of them, and it was her fault he was even near the operation. Then she realized that Dick Goodlight wasn’t in sight. He must have gone back into his tent about the same time Pearl did, and unlike Pearl, hadn’t argued with anyone loud enough to be heard. Sheriff Azgo walked toward the other tents. If Goodlight was in one of them, he might shoot first and flee out the back. She couldn’t let that happen either.
CHAPTER 18
Nellie hurried to Ned’s horse and, with difficulty, climbed on, her arm beginning to throb again. She urged him forward and almost galloped out of the trees, just as the sheriff leaned toward Dick’s tent.
“Sheriff! I’ll go quietly.” She guided the horse to where he stood and slid off between him and the tent. “Those two talked me into giving myself up.” She motioned to Ned and Pearl. “Ned brought me from the sheep camp to help Pearl escape.” She was out of breath and in pain.
The sheriff stared at her as if she had lost all of her senses. So did Ned. Pearl hid a smile behind her hand and leaned down, letting a small pistol drop to the dirt. Nellie saw but could not hear a plop because of the chaos in camp. Pearl knocked it away with her foot and looked up directly at Nellie.
Nell glanced at Pearl and then at the gun. It was the size of Pearl’s hand and nothing like the gun Nell picked up beside Pitts’s body. Nor like the gun Pearl had threatened Moonshine with. She felt the tent shake under her hand where she had steadied herself.
“Charlie—”
Dick Goodlight grabbed her from behind and then wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled himself out. He held a knife to Nell’s neck.
“I’d as soon slit her throat as look at her, this godforsaken bitch. Move back.”
The noise in camp cut off, except for the dogs.
“Get over here, Pearl. I need your help. Grab the horse.”
Pearl hesitated as the sheriff moved back a couple steps. Then she did as ordered.
“Now follow me.” Dick kept Nellie in tow. The stink of sour mash almost made her gag. She tried to stay on her feet, but he moved too fast and she couldn’t keep up. He dragged her along the path leading to the road. His arm squeezed her chest and she struggled to free herself, ever mindful of the knife. Pearl took the horse’s bridle and stepped along. If she sought help with motions or glances, Nell could not tell. The knife scraped the skin on her right arm under her sleeve. Dick’s breath was deadly as she tried to get back on her feet. If only her arm were not so useless, she thought. They scrambled out of sight of the camp and onto the tree-lined path.
“Let her go!” Ned leaped out from behind a tree, lifted his revolver, and aimed it at Dick.
Dick swung Nell around so she faced Ned and stood between the two of them. She finally managed to get herself upright.
“What’s going on here?” O’Donnell tramped down the path. “Ned, put down that gun. You, let that woman go. You boys think this is an old-timey Western?” Nell didn’t see him shift, but a gun appeared in his hand.
And then Moonshine raced past Ned and leaped on Goodlight. A piece of twine trailed from the dog’s neck, and his growl was as deep as a wild animal’s. Dick began to fall, taking Nellie with him. She kicked her leg behind her, slamming into Dick’s soft parts. “Owwwww.” He dropped the knife and loosened his hold on her. Moonshine grabbed his arm and Nellie slipped away. As fast as she could, she rolled over, landing once on her bad arm. She groaned but scuttled to her feet to run to and behind the horse Pearl was leading. “Moonshine, come!”
Pearl grabbed Nellie’s hand and pulled her close. “C’mon! To the trees.” They began to scramble but Sheriff Azgo dashed around the bend toward them.
“Stop. Everyone stand still. Now.”
Dick leaped toward O’Donnell, grabbed his gun, and fired at Ned. The huge boom stunned everyone. Ned fell sideways and his gun shot into the air. Dick leveled the gun he held to fire again as Ned rolled to his chest. Two guns fired simultaneously. This time, Dick fell backward and a red splotch appeared below his neck. Ned rolled again and pushed to his knees, one arm hanging and dripping blood.
At such close quarters, the noise almost deafened Nellie. Pearl ran to Ned, not Dick. “What have you done?” She swung her foot back to kick him, but stopped and turned, crying.
O’Donnell retrieved his gun from the ground and put it in his belt. He turned to the sheriff. “Now you know who was behind everything.” He stepped over to Dick and shoved him with his foot. “The moonshine. Your sheepherder. Probably Pitts, too.”
Nell and Moonie, Ned and the moonshiners, including Dick Goodlight, all returned to Galena Store, each in a separate auto with the revenuers and the sheriff. O’Donnell followed, at the sheriff’s curt order, in his own automobile after taking the horse to the road and leaving it there to be picked up by a ranch hand. When they arrived, Gwynn was sitting on the porch with Lulu. He jumped up to greet Nell and put his arm around her. She sagged against him, knowing he would stand up for her. Moonshine would too, but he couldn’t talk.
“Caught the whole shootin’ match, I see,” Gwynn said to Charlie. “You been waitin’ for this.” He handed the sheriff the envelope from Twin Falls.
Charlie nodded. “And then some,” he added as O’Donnell’s auto pulled in. It was sleek and black. The sheriff briefly glanced at the photos and shoved them back into the envelope.
“Lulu,” the sheriff said, “can you ring up Ketchum and get a doc and the ambulance from Hailey up here? We have two shot-up men. Then we need a place to sit down: Nell Burns, Pearl, Ned Tanner, Gwynn, and O’Donnell. Goodlight is in no shape to sit. I have some photographs to show around. Can we use your back room?”
While Lulu did as asked, the sheriff talked to Keefe and the revenuers. They left with Long John and Bob and a promise of Dick Goodlight if he survived.
Nell felt at home at Galena after her disorienting travels in the Stanley Basin. The store was neat and orderly, the back room quiet. She knew Charlie had found her photos under the bed in the river auto lodge near Stanley. Jacob Levine must have developed some of them and sent them back up. Now she owed him even more. He was like a guardian angel in the background of her life.
Sheriff Azgo ushered everyone into the back room and brought out the photographs. “These are photos by Miss Burns, taken at the sheep camp in the Basin. The first two are the camp. The next several are Domingo. I also have a report on Domingo’s death from the coroner.”
Nell studied her own work and remembered arriving at the camp and Gwynn’s finding of Domingo. She thought about how she had been trying to distract herself from the dead sheepherder. There were the covered camp, the horse bridle, the tins of supplies, the saddle, the horse—a quiet scene with no person in it.
The sheriff was reading from the report. “ ‘The deceased died from trauma to his head and neck. Although there was a wound in his temple, this was not the cause of death. Blunt force to his head and a broken neck caused this man’s death. The bullet wound occurred after his death.’ ”
Nellie glanced at Pearl, whose pale face turned even paler. She looked back at Nell. They both knew what this meant. The Boss killed Domingo, but who was the Boss? Nell knew in that moment that it was O’Donnell, but she was fairly certain Pearl would not tell. She had sat down next to him and touched him from time to time. He glanced at her but did not shake her off.
The sheriff pointed to the camp photo again. In the rocks above the camp, there was a figure, squatted down and appare
ntly spying on the activities below. It looked like Wolfman to Nell, but she would have to enlarge that section to be sure. So, he had been spying on them and probably more than once. No wonder he wanted the photographs. Charlie brought out another photo, again of the sheep camp, but this time there was a rifle and a flute leaning against the wood base. Alphonso was in the photos, but nothing else had changed, so these were taken a little later. Between the time Gwynn and Alphonso buried Domingo and they all left to find the sheep, the Winchester and flute had been placed outside the camp. Either Pearl or one of the moonshiners had been tramping about the area and returned those items.
Although Nell waited for Pearl to say something, anything, about Domingo’s murder, she did not. The sheriff seemed to wait, too. Finally, he said, “Domingo was dragged through the sage and rocks. Who did this?”
Nell cleared her throat. If looks could indeed kill, Pearl’s stare at her would have done it then by some torturous method.
“Pearl fired the gun because Wolfman Pitts had loosed his wolfdog on Domingo. She was afraid the dog would kill him. She missed and the bullet hit Domingo. If he was already dead, as you say, then the man who dragged him behind a horse did this.”
“And who was that?” the sheriff asked.
“I don’t know. But Pearl does. It was the ‘Boss.’ ”
Pearl looked at her hands. When she looked up, she said, “It is Ned Tanner.”
“What? I never—” Ned was wounded but jumped up and rushed toward Pearl. “You liar. I had nothing to do with your torture of that m—Basque! I was out herding cattle.”
Nell felt disappointment swarm over her.
Charlie stepped between Pearl and Ned. “Sit down, Tanner.” He turned to Nell. “What do you know about this man?”
Nell didn’t want to answer. “He helped me.” Even O’Donnell hadn’t accused Ned.
Gwynn spoke up. “He beat up Alphonso, turned the sheep camp upside down, wounded two sheep dogs and lassoed and killed my lead ewe. That’s the kind of ‘man’ he is—he’s a coward.”
“I was just following orders—his.” Ned pointed at O’Donnell. “And I quit so don’t bother firing me. You owe me a month’s wages.”
O’Donnell snorted a short laugh. “You know how cowboys are, Sheriff. They’re always up to some hijinks or another. They get bored poking cows and go off to cause some trouble.”
“And I didn’t shoot no sheep dogs,” Ned said. He sat down. Nell wondered if she should comfort him.
Pearl glared again at Nell.
“Tanner here even suggested we torch the woods to scare off the sheep and the Basque,” O’Donnell continued. “Of course, I put a stop to that.”
“That’s not true,” Nell said. She knew she was on solid ground now. “Ned caught Hank, your cowboy, trying to set a fire and he stopped it and went back a couple of times to make sure it was out. I saw him.”
Nell turned to Pearl. “Tell the truth.”
Pearl turned her pearl ring round and round her finger. “I am.” She shook her head and lowered her face.
“And the moonshine operation. You all referred to ‘the Boss.’ ” Nell watched Pearl turn her ring. “It’s Mr. O’Donnell, isn’t it? I heard his voice the night I was kidnapped.” She stood up and pointed outside. “And that was the car I was in.”
“Hahahaha. You must have been drinking that ’shine yourself, Miss Burns.” O’Donnell kept laughing, a strange sound from a face that looked stone dead. “I run a cattle ranch. I’ve got plenty to do and make a good living that way. I’m respected in my county—just ask anyone there. Why would I get involved in some shady moonshine operation? Hahahahaha.” He ceased his laughter. “And you. You murdered Pitts. Who would believe you?” His flat gaze turned to Sheriff Azgo.
Lulu knocked on the door and then her head appeared. “The doc is here and so is the ambulance.”
Gwynn stood up. “I’ll get Goodlight loaded. What about Tanner?”
O’Donnell stood up, his arm around Pearl. “We’re leaving. You know where I live and Pearl works. You’ve heard our side of the story.” They walked out in the general confusion.
Ned sat still, his head in his hands. The sheriff left to help Gwynn and the doctor. Nell didn’t know what to do. She knew Ned was not the Boss. But she couldn’t prove it or that O’Donnell was. They stayed in the room together, not talking. Moonshine lay sleeping next to Nell’s chair. Her dog would not have accepted Ned so readily after the initial attack on the hillside, if the cowboy was mixed up with the moonshiners.
“All right, Tanner. Come out and let the doc bind up your arm. You can ride in the ambulance. I’ll deal with you later.” Sheriff Azgo stayed behind when Tanner left.
“How is your arm, Miss Burns?” He stopped in front of Nell.
“I thought we were on first-name terms, Sheriff. My arm is better, but I need to cut the stitches.” She didn’t look up at him, but just stared across at the gun in his belt. He was not a tall man, and he seemed now as cold as the gun metal.
“I talked again with Luke about Wolfman Pitts and your self-defense. I am not going to charge you. I needed to get you out of that wasp’s nest you so blithely walked into, again and again.”
“It all seemed reasonable at the time. I had few choices. And I didn’t kidnap myself.”
“I know you didn’t. I will do what I can to jail O’Donnell.” Charlie knelt beside her.
“I didn’t kill Pitts,” she said. “I think Pearl did it to save me. She’ll say I did it.” She shrugged.
“Either way, Pitts’s death was self-defense.” Charlie’s face was strong in its brown-ness, but the smile he tried on faded with weariness. “Nell.”
She leaned toward him. “Thank you, Charlie.”
CHAPTER 19
Nell dashed into the boarding house. “Goldie! Mrs. Bock!” She carried mail in one hand and held the door for Moonshine with the other.
“Lands’ sakes, girl. What’s wrong?” Mrs. Bock came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish cloth.
“Look at these letters! They’re from the tourists at the Stanley Basin campout. I mailed them photos a couple weeks ago. Every one of them has cash in it! I can’t believe it!”
“Why not? Ain’t that your business? Selling photos?” She dumped the cloth on an entry table and took two of the letters. “Now, isn’t that nice. Thank you for the photos and all the excitement on their trip. Hmph.” She returned the open letters. “Did you know that O’Donnell got off scot-free? Charlie tried to bring charges against him for murdering that Spanish man, but another cattle man said he was at an association meeting during the whole hullaballoo. The local commissioners wouldn’t even talk to him about the moonshine operation.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Some meeting. From what you told me, it must have lasted a coupla weeks!”
“What’s this one?” Mrs. Bock pointed to a large manila envelope under Nellie’s arm.
“Just a brochure from the railroad, I think. They send them to me from time to time.” She pulled the top open. “See? An advertisement.” A piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
Goldie leaned down to retrieve it. “Some advertisement, I’d say.” Her whole face turned up in smiles. “It’s a check. Looks pretty official to me.”
Nellie reached for the check. “Oh, my.” She brought out the brochure. Her photographs of the Sawtooth Mountains, the Salmon River, Pearl and Ned both, the tourist camp, and even the sheep camp were splashed in black and white across the pages. “Look Moonie! My photos and the train will bring more people to Idaho!”
Footsteps clunked up the back stairs and the door opened.
“Mrs. Bock, is Nell Burns here?” The sheriff’s voice called.
“I’m here,” Nell called back and led Goldie into her own kitchen.
“I have your photos, Miss Burns, er . . . Nell. I thought you would want them back.”
“We heard O’Donnell skipped, Sheriff.” Goldie flapped her apron. “He’s as slippery as a fish.
”
“If Nell’s friend, Pearl, had helped, we might have snagged him,” Charlie said. “She persuaded the revenuers that she was just an innocent bystander, but no one believed Tanner ran the moonshine operation. He’s just a cowboy—and on his way back to Oregon.”
“What about Dick Goodlight?”
“He’s on his way to jail, probably not for very long.”
“I wouldn’t want to be Pearl when he shows up again,” Nell said.
“Do you want coffee?” Goldie used a hot pad to lift the ever-present pot off the stove.
Nell had opened the pack of photos. “I don’t want these,” she said, handing over the pictures of Domingo. “I never knew him, but he played the flute for Pearl to dance to.” She leafed through the rest. “Here’s the sheep camp, Mrs. Bock.”
Goldie took and studied the photo. “Hmph. Looks like close quarters to me. I think Alphonso is still there. Gwynn stopped by on his way up the other day.”
The sheriff looked over her shoulder. “It is close but the outdoors is a green and stone world. The stars shine like diamond chips at night and when the full moon rises, it is like being in a wonderland.”
“Yes, it is,” Nell said, smiling at Charlie.
Goldie looked from one to the other. “Should I make myself scarce?”
Nell felt herself blush. Even the sheriff appeared off-kilter. “I came also to ask Miss Burns if she would help the sheriff’s office with an assignment. Her photos helped solve the murder of Domingo. There are several other . . . circumstances where her photography skills would be useful.”
When Nell opened her mouth, he added, “For pay, of course.”
So far, the sheriff’s “circumstances” had been murders of one kind or another. Even as she shuddered, she heard herself echo his words, “Of course.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julie Weston grew up in Idaho and practiced law for many years in Seattle, Washington. Her debut fiction, Moonshadows, a Nellie Burns and Moonshine Mystery, was published in 2015 (Five Star Publishing). Her memoir of place, The Good Times Are All Gone Now: Life, Death and Rebirth in an Idaho Mining Town (University of Oklahoma Press, 2009), received an honorable mention in the 2009 Idaho Book of the Year Awards. Her short stories and essays have been published in IDAHO Magazine, The Threepenny Review, River Styx, Clackamas Review, and other journals. Both an essay and a short story have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes. She and her husband, Gerry Morrison, now live in central Idaho where they ski, write, photograph, and enjoy the outdoors. www.juliewweston.com.
