Drina’s Choice

Home > Other > Drina’s Choice > Page 23
Drina’s Choice Page 23

by Agnes Alexander


  “I killed Mr. Keller, Sheriff.” Drina’s voice was so soft he barely heard it.

  He was stunned. “What did you say?”

  “I said I killed him.”

  “But Mrs. Wilcox, it was Aaron’s gun—”

  “I know. I used his gun.”

  Zane was totally confused. “But how?”

  “Don’t bother trying to explain to the man, Drina. He’s made up his mind who shot Cleg. Brit probably sent him here to arrest me for it.”

  “Well, he can’t arrest you for something you didn’t do. I can prove I’m the one who shot him.” Though her voice was weak, she looked at Zane with determination in her eyes. “Several people saw me do it. There was Beulah, Win and … my husband.”

  Zane didn’t know what to say. He’d never thought Aaron killed the man without good reason, but he was stunned to learn Mrs. Wilcox had pulled the trigger. As for the missing women, he hadn’t seen any sign they were on this ranch or had been in the last few days. Brit had to be wrong about that. Besides, somebody had tried to kill Wilcox by blowing up the end of the house. Though he knew Vance hated the man, he didn’t think he’d do such a thing. Something wasn’t right here. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

  Finally, he said, “I believe you, Mrs. Wilcox.” He stood. “Why don’t I go look around at the area where the explosion took place? Maybe whoever did it left some clues.”

  “Do I need to come with you?” Aaron looked him in the eye.

  He started to refuse, but changed his mind. “If you’re able. You might show me just what happened.”

  “I’m able.” Aaron stood, tucked his crutches under his arms and led the way out the back door.

  Chapter 21

  Art Keller had finished one jug of homemade whiskey and had started on the second one. He grinned when he thought of the old man he’d thrown out of the place a few days ago. “I might’a kept him around if I knowed how good he was at brewing this stuff.” He took another big swig and staggered toward the cot in the corner, dribbling whiskey on the floor as he went. “Might as well rest a spell. I don’t need to be nowhere near town when it’s found out the Wilcox house blowed up,” he took another swig and added with a chuckle, “with him in it.”

  Holding the jug close with one arm, he lay down and grinned at the ceiling. Laughing out loud, he swung the other arm out and yelled, “So long, Wilcox. Hope you don’t rot in hell afore my pa and brother greet you. They’ll want a piece of yer hide, too.”

  He hadn’t noticed that when he swung out his arm, he’d toppled a chair. It had crashed against the pot belly stove and jarred the half-closed door open. The corner of the chair back was in the stove itself.

  With one last swig, he rolled over and closed his eyes. He was out cold and didn’t feel the whiskey as it ran out of the jug, down his chest and into his bed. Neither did he hear when the smoldering fire crackled into a blaze and caught the old chair back on fire. In seconds, the chair smoked, then spit and crackled and became a slight blaze. Within a short time the fire ran down the length of the old dry wood of the chair. It nipped at the dribbled whiskey, flamed up and was soon at the bed. In less than half an hour, the cabin was engulfed in flames and everything inside was burned beyond recognition, including Art Keller.

  * * * *

  Brit Vance came bursting into the jailhouse before Zane could get behind his desk. “I saw you ride back into town. Why the hell did you come back without arresting Aaron Wilcox for shooting Cleg Keller?”

  “’Cause no matter what you say, he didn’t shoot him, Brit.” Zane dropped to his chair and motioned for Brit to take the one in front of him. He didn’t offer the man any coffee, not only because he hadn’t started a fire in the small stove, but also because he didn’t want Brit to stay long.

  Brit sat. “Of course he did. It was his gun that—”

  “I know it was his gun, but he didn’t shoot Keller. His wife did.”

  “Keller doesn’t have a wife.”

  “I mean Mrs. Wilcox shot him.”

  Brit frowned. “That little fancy woman couldn’t do such a thing.”

  “She swears she did, and I believe her.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “She had people who saw her do it.”

  “Who?”

  “Beulah…”

  “Beulah would lie for Wilcox. Who else?”

  “The old mountain man they call Win.”

  Brit frowned again. “I thought the Kellers killed him.”

  “Somehow, he survived and managed to get to the Wilcox ranch. He was there in the house when it happened.”

  “He’d probably tell you whatever they asked him to. What did he say about it?”

  “When I went to the bunkhouse to ask him, he said Keller broke in the end window and held them all at gunpoint. Everyone had to throw their guns down, but Mrs. Wilcox had one of Aaron’s guns hidden under her skirt and nobody knew it. When Keller started to shoot her husband, she whipped it out and shot him.”

  “I don’t believe it. No woman can shoot that well.”

  Zane shrugged. “Well, Win said she wasn’t a good shot, either.”

  “But Keller was hit between the eyes.”

  “Yeah, but Mrs. Wilcox was aiming at his arm. She missed, and the bullet went between his eyes.”

  Brit laughed in spite of the anger on his face. “Only a woman could do that.”

  Zane smiled. “Yeah, and I figured a woman as lady-like as Mrs. Wilcox wouldn’t tell such a story unless it was true.”

  “You’re probably right.” He shook his head.

  “Now, let me tell you about the explosion.”

  “What explosion?”

  Zane told him what he knew.

  “Damn. Adeline is going to have a fit. She’ll think she has to tell her pa about it. I hope the old man doesn’t come out here to see for himself.”

  “So, what difference does that make?”

  Brit hadn’t told Zane his father-in-law wanted the Rocking Chair Ranch. “You know women. She’ll think she’s in danger because of it.”

  “Oh.”

  “How about the whores? Did you find them there?”

  “Not a trace, Brit. I don’t think they’ve been there, but if they have, they’re gone now. I wouldn’t waste my time saying Aaron helped them escape from the saloon. Besides what difference does it make?”

  “Hal needs them back.”

  Zane stared at him. “Is it Hal who wants them back—or is it you?”

  Brit bristled. “Why would you ask that?”

  Zane frowned. “Because Hal hasn’t said a thing about them coming back. In fact, he seems to be doing fine without them.”

  Brit changed the subject. “Well, I guess I’d better go tell Adeline what happened on the ranch before she hears about it in town.” Brit plopped his hat on his head and headed out the jailhouse door without waiting for Zane to say anything else.

  The sheriff stared after him. What was his problem? Why was he in such a rush to tell his wife about the explosion? What business was it of hers, and what did her father have to do with it? And why was Brit so damn interested in what went with the whores?

  He frowned again. “Maybe Aaron’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to believe what Brit says.”

  He frowned and continued talking to himself. “But he came here to better this town. He wanted to make sure the people were ready for the railroad, and he’s gone out of his way to see that people are treated fairly. Why, he’s even bought some of the ranches that were about to go into foreclosure and has leased them back to the owners. What man would do that unless his only purpose was to help the townspeople?”

  Somewhere, deep down, he thought there could be another reason; but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure what it could be.

  His mind turned to Aaron. Though it wasn’t really serious for either of them, when they were young, they’d been rivals for Betsy Keller’s attention. Her death had ended that. He also knew the Kelle
rs blamed Aaron for the girl’s demise, but everybody knew it’d been an accident. The young woman headed to the Rocking Chair for some unknown reason. Before she reached the house, she was attacked by three men, raped and murdered and left on the side of the road. Aaron had helped Zane track down the killers, who hanged for the crime, but the Kellers had the warped idea Aaron was to blame, because she was going to his ranch when the incident happened.

  Aaron could have killed all of them the day they came to the ranch to avenge Betsy’s death, but he didn’t. That didn’t change their need to kill him, and from that day, they attacked him at different times over the last five years. Since they always failed and Aaron didn’t harm them, Zane felt the whole incident was behind them. Though Aaron had a reputation at The Swinging Door, he’d never given the sheriff any trouble. He didn’t often come to town, but when he did, he would camp out there for a day or two. The whores all liked him, and he seemed to enjoy their company. Especially Lottie. Of course, Zane had tasted her favors a few times, but he didn’t make a habit of it. He wanted to keep his reputation as clean as possible because he liked his job and he wanted to keep it. That was one reason he’d befriended Vance when he came to town.

  “But did I do the right thing?” He leaned back in his chair and scratched his head. “I still can’t swallow everything Aaron said, but I’m going to be watchful of Brit Vance. I need to look after myself. The first thing I have to do is look for the culprit who dynamited Aaron’s house. It’s my job to look for outlaws. If Brit insists on finding the whores, he’s going to have to hunt them himself or wait until I take care of the more important business.”

  Getting up from his chair, Zane grabbed his hat and headed out to saddle his horse. Like I told Aaron, I’m going to ride out and check to see if Albert Running Bear can go back to the ranch with me in the morning. If anybody could find and follow old tracks that half-breed can. Maybe he’ll go out to the Wilcox ranch with me. I want to clear this up as soon as possible.

  * * * *

  Adeline got up from the pink cushioned chair in front of her dressing table and stared at Brit. Her eyes were full of confusion with a tinge of disgust. “How could you let this happen?”

  “I didn’t let it happen, Adeline. As a matter of fact, I just found out about it myself.”

  “Maybe it’s a lie.”

  Brit walked to the side of the room where a marble fireplace adorned the wall. He slowly took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, tossing the match in the grate. “It’s not a lie. The sheriff was out at the ranch and he saw the damage himself. The whole end of the house is gone.”

  “No. No. No.” Adeline stamped her foot and wrung her hands as she advanced toward him. “It can’t be true. Daddy won’t put up with such a thing happening to his house. You’ve got to fix it.”

  Brit felt anger begin to rise, but he took a puff of the cigar and tried to calm himself. “What the hell do you expect me to do, Adeline?”

  “I don’t know. All I want you to do is fix it!” She screamed as she lunged at him and began beating his chest.

  He grabbed her arms. “Calm down, Adeline. You might as well face it. There’s nothing I can do. Somebody stuck dynamite under the corner of the house and blew the side off. They almost killed his wife in the process.”

  “I don’t care about her. I just care about the house. If he can’t get that house, Daddy won’t come here to live.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be upset, but he’ll manage to cope.”

  “My daddy doesn’t cope. He wants what he wants, and he wants it when he wants it. Now, you’ve messed things up good. I’m going to write him and tell him what you’ve done.”

  He let her arms go and tossed his cigar in the fireplace. “You’re not going to write your daddy tonight, Adeline.”

  “How dare you forbid me to write Daddy!”

  He sneered at her. “It won’t hurt for him not to know for a while.”

  Adeline glared at him for a moment, then without another word she raised her delicate hand and slapped him as hard as she could.

  Brit was so furious he reacted without thinking. He slapped her back.

  Adeline fell backward and her head hit the marble fireplace. There was a loud crack. Though she was dazed, she managed to right herself. Looking at him as if she couldn’t believe what he’d done, she grabbed the poker and raised it to hit him.

  Moving quickly, he snatched the weapon from her hand. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “You hit me, you beast,” she spit out.

  “And you have no idea how good it made me feel.” Brit felt a surge of power he’d never felt before. Now was the time to take control of her and her actions. “I’ve wanted to hit you for a long time.”

  She stared at him. “How could you?”

  “Do you think I like being married to a bitch like you?”

  She looked at him. Her anger seemed to be turning to fright.

  He was elated to see it. “You’ve always acted like you’re better than anybody else in this town, including me. Of course, I know you’re simply a spoiled brat who lets her daddy control everything she does. No man wants a wife like that.”

  “Brit…I didn’t…”

  “Shut up and listen. I’m not through. I want you to know I would divorce you tomorrow if it wasn’t for the fact that I want to get your father’s money, and to get it, I’ll stay married to you.”

  “How dare you.”

  “Oh, yes, I dare.” He moved his face close to hers. “Do you realize all those nights you refused to go to bed with me I was with one of the beautiful women at the Swinging Door? Every one of them is more woman than you are.”

  Adeline put her hands over her ears. “I won’t listen anymore.”

  He laughed and took hold of her wrists. “Oh, yes, you will. Did you know I own The Swinging Door Saloon, which gives me access to all the women at any time? My favorite was Lottie, but she ran away.”

  “No,” she cried.

  “Yes, my dear, stupid wife. But don’t worry. I’ll find Lottie, and she’ll be there for me. I was going to kill her, but I changed my mind. I intend to move her into our house as one of your maids.” He laughed again. This time it sounded evil. “Of course, she won’t have to serve you. Only me.”

  “You horrible man.”

  “You’re so right. I am horrible. Now, get over there and finish dressing. We’re going down to supper.”

  “I don’t want anything to eat.”

  “I don’t give a damn whether you want to eat or not. You’re going downstairs with me, and you’re going to be pleasant in front of Fanny. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

  Adeline looked as if she might argue, but she didn’t. She moved to the bed and slipped the coral colored silk dress over her head and adjusted the neckline. She sat at her dressing table and started to pin up her hair. Pulling her hand away, she looked startled. “Oh, no.”

  “What is it now?”

  “My head’s bleeding.”

  He walked over and parted her hair to look at her head. “It’s a simple little cut. I’ll hand you a wet cloth and you can clean it.”

  “But, I could be hurt. Maybe we should send for the doctor.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Adeline. He’d laugh at you.” He moved from the pitcher of water and handed her the cloth. “Clean yourself up. If you were hurt, do you think you could be sitting here?”

  She grabbed the cloth and did as he asked. In a matter of minutes, he could see no blood and the injury was almost invisible. “Now, fix your hair.”

  She twisted the long thick auburn locks into a neat bun on the back of her head then turned back to him with hate in her eyes.

  “You look beautiful as always, my dear.” He then held his arm out to her. “Shall we go?”

  Seething, she took his arm and they went down the winding stairs together. As they entered the dining room, Fanny came in with a platter. “Good evening, Sir and Madam.”

  Adeline muttered
, “Good evening, Fanny.”

  Brit nodded. He then turned to pull out his wife’s chair.

  She started to sit, but wobbled. “Brit, I feel strange.”

  He figured she was putting on an act. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer. Her eyes turned back and she slumped to the floor, barely hitting the back of her head on the table as she went down.

  Fanny’s scream pushed Brit into action. He rushed to gather Adeline in his arms. “Oh, darling. What’s the matter?”

  Fanny sat the platter down. “Oh, sir, I think she fainted.”

  “I’m not sure, Fanny. I think it’s more.”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus. Help her.”

  Lifting Adeline, he stood. “Get the doctor, Fanny. I think she’s sick.”

  “Yes, sir.” Fanny ran out the door and disappeared down the street.

  Heading for the stairs, Brit looked down at his unconscious wife. “Don’t you dare die on me, you bitch. You haven’t inherited your pa’s money yet.”

  Chapter 22

  Drina had taken as much time as she dared removing her clothes and washing behind the screen in the corner of Aaron’s room. She slipped into her night gown and brushed her long hair. She could think of nothing else to do to put off the inevitable, so with a deep sigh she moved to the bedside table and blew out the light.

  Though she knew it was the only practical thing to do since the end of their house was gone, this was still hard for her. Aaron’s bedroom was safe and Beulah had insisted she’d make up the other undamaged upstairs bedroom for Milly. In her practical mind Drina agreed, but she was still nervous about climbing into Aaron’s bed. It wasn’t the bed that bothered her. She’d slept in it before. It was the fact that her husband had already climbed between the covers and was waiting on her.

  With another sigh, she lifted the covers and slowly lay down. She wasn’t sure whether she should turn her back to him or how she should position herself. She finally decided to simply lay flat on her back.

 

‹ Prev