John held up his hands. “Now calm down. It’s not what it looks like.”
Glancing at the two other men in the room, Sky paused, then addressed John again. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” John stepped outside in answer.
“Tell me how that hangman’s noose dangling from the limb of that tree is not what it looks like.” Sky tossed a gesture of frustration at the lone tree on the south edge of town.
“Jordan, I know you don’t know me too well, but let me be the first to assure you that I’m not about to let any of these men take the law into their own hands.”
Sky looked Bymaster pointedly in the face. “Have you forgotten that there are eighty men in town? All of them wanting justice—no, justice is not the right word. All of them want revenge! And you have a noose dangling from a tree! Explain to me how that is not taking the law into your own hands!” Sky folded his arms across his chest, knowing he was speaking too loudly, but his anger had gotten the best of him for the moment.
Bymaster held up his hands, palms out, in a gesture meant to calm as he looked around at the gathering crowd who had heard Sky’s tirade and come to see what it was all about.
The crowd only irritated Sky all the more. “What are you planning?” He ground out the words, having finally regained control of his raging anger, although not having lost the anger in the least.
“Some of the guys had this idea that if we made it look like we’d hung Lee Chang and then brought the other prisoners out one at a time, that maybe they’d be a little more likely to talk. See?”
Sky was beginning to see, and he saw the folly in the idea. Anytime a noose was dangled in front of a posse bent on revenge there was bound to be trouble. He said nothing, though, only glared at John.
“What we’re planning,” Bymaster continued, “is to bring out Lee Chang first this morning. We make him lie down on the ground and make it look like he’s dead. When we bring the next guy out we tell him that he’s gonna suffer the same fate if he doesn’t speak up. If he doesn’t speak up, we force him to play dead and bring out the next guy and so on until we get a confession.”
“I don’t like it. The evidence of Ping’s confession alone is enough to hold he and Chang. We just need to talk to Ping and find out who the other three are. We don’t need more confessions.”
John cleared his throat. “He told me last night who they are.”
Sky blinked. “So why are you pulling this charade?”
“They won’t admit to it. They still deny that they were even in town on that night! Except for Chang, of course, who says he was at his wife’s birthday party. We thought if we could get them to admit to some involvement, it would go a long ways toward a conviction at the trial.”
Sky pointed down the street in the direction of the noose. “That’s forcing a man to confess under duress. What if one of them gets so scared that he confesses when he really had nothing to do with it?”
“Well, that’s a point, but do you have a better idea? Some of these men are getting real antsy. They want to head back home to their wives and children. I heard a group of them saying last night that we should just hang the whole lot and be done with it. I’m afraid if we don’t find something more soon, we might have a lynch mob on our hands.” He shrugged. “I’ve wracked my brain trying to come up with a better idea for getting a confession out of someone besides Ping Chi, but I haven’t come up with one.”
“I just told you we don’t need any more confessions to hold these men for trial.”
By this time both the men who had been in the court house had come outside to hear what Sky would say, and the other men who had come over to see what Sky’s outburst was about were no longer pretending they had no interest in the conversation.
“We ain’t about to send these men in for trial with such a flimsy lot of evidence agin ‘em. They’d be let go for sure!” shouted one.
“I like the idea about hanging the whole lot!” hollered another in a pinched, high voice.
Sky turned to face him and recognized Smyth, the obese man who had confronted him and Jenny the day before.
Smyth continued, “Too many Chinese up in these hills anyway. We could sure stand to cull a few of them out.” He pulled a yellow-stained handkerchief from his coat pocket and mopped his brow, which was sweating profusely even in the cool of the morning, as he challenged Sky with his beady eyes.
Sky didn’t say anything, just leveled the man with a cold stare, wondering how men could become so prejudiced. He knew the answer, though. It all came from not believing that God was the Creator of all life. When the miracle of life became a mere accident, men could be deceived into believing anything.
“Never did cotton to so many Celestials roaming the hills hereabouts. I say we do somethin’ about it!”
Sky recognized this ranter as a small-time miner from far back in the hills.
John raised his voice to the growing group of men gathering on the street. “Now, gentlemen, we are not here to do anything but determine whether these men should be held over for trial in Murray. We are neither judge nor jury. We are simply here to aid the process of justice.”
Sky could hear a tinge of nervousness in his voice.
Smyth grinned. “Then I say we aid them in savin’ some money, too. We dispatch with them criminals right here, and there won’t be any costs for housing or food. Not to mention the expense of keeping them heavily guarded all the way from here to Murray, if we hold some of them over.”
The group of men continued raucously laughing and talking.
John laid a hand on Sky’s arm, drawing his attention away from the talk, and spoke quietly in his ear. “You see what I am up against? I have to get some sort of a confession out of the guilty and try to diffuse this situation a bit.
“With the confessions, we’ll be able to convince the men that the accused will never get off at a trial. Most of these men are worried that no one is going to pay for this terrible crime. They just want to do something, and in their minds, like you said, it doesn’t matter to whom. So long as they can go home and say they convicted someone.”
Sky saw the error in John’s logic. What was to stop a lynch mob from forming after some confessions? Wouldn’t they feel even more justified in meting out their own form of justice if the prisoners confessed? Suddenly the fact that John was going to pretend to hang the men didn’t seem to be what he should be concentrating on. He hadn’t realized that the spirit in the camp had become so cutthroat. He wondered where Jason was. They might need to utilize their guns to protect the prisoners before this investigation was over. “I still don’t like it,” he said to John as he turned on his heel and went in search of Jason.
20
As Sky headed back in the direction of Jed’s boarding house in the early morning light, he contemplated what his best course of action might be. There had been a day when he would never have questioned whether asking his cousin for help was the right thing to do or not. There had been a number of times, when they were younger, that Sean had needed help to track down criminals, and Sky, Rocky, Cade and Jason had always been included in that number. He and Jason had worked well as a team. In fact, on several occasions it had been due to their team work—and the fact that they had each known what the other was going to do before he did it—that the outlaw they had been tracking was caught.
But recently Jason had been a loose cannon. He had let his desire for revenge on Chang consume his whole being to the point where he had even pushed God out of his life. So could he count on Jason to be willing to use his gun to protect Chang?
Sky sighed in frustration. He couldn’t risk it. If Jason was part of the plan that he was forming even as he walked, he would have to be out of Sky’s line of vision and Sky knew that would not be a wise move if he truly wanted to protect the prisoners. If he asked Jason for help and something did go wrong, he might use the confusion of the moment as an opportunity to exact his revenge on Chang, and Sky would never be able to forgive himsel
f. No, Jason would have to be excluded from this one.
As Sky entered the front room at Jed’s, he saw Jason looking like he had just crawled out of bed. His blond, curly, too-long hair was in wild disarray. He sat, his boots wrapped around the front two legs of a chair as it leaned back against the log wall. He nursed a cup of coffee. Sky eyed him. Well, he looks a little better than he did yesterday.
“Good morning, Jason.”
“Morning.”
“Have you seen Jed?”
He nodded. “He headed down to the livery for a minute. Said he’d be right back.”
“Thanks, I’ll go talk to him there.” He turned toward the door, hating the strain that stretched tight between them. They had been so close once.
“Sky.”
Sky stopped and faced his cousin.
“I was wrong in what I said about Chang last night. I know I need to forgive him. You pray for me about that, would you?”
Sky blinked in surprise. “You better believe I will. I have been.” He turned back toward the door, but his movements stilled once more as he contemplated. Should he include Jason in his contingency plan after all? The contrition he had just seen on his cousin’s face was no bluff and he praised God for softening Jason’s heart. But should he put him through what might become such a great temptation so soon after his newfound resolve?
He decided to compromise; he would ask for Jason’s help but make sure he was within eyesight at all times. “Jason, some of the men are talking about forming a lynch mob. We might have a little trouble on our hands today. Can I count on you to back me up if I need your help?”
There was a catch in Jason’s voice as he said, “Just like old times, huh?” He cleared his throat.
Sky smiled. “Something pretty close anyway. Usually it was me backing you up, remember? You were the hothead who always rushed headlong into a situation without thinking first, and it’s only because of my lightning-quick reaction time that you are alive today.”
There was a full-fledged grin on Jason’s face now. “I seem to remember things a little differently. You remember that time Tiny Jack had wedged himself into that hollow log out in the desert and told us we would have to shoot him if we wanted to get him out?”
“Now just a min—” Sky began to protest, but Jason cut him off.
“What did you do but pick up that mean-lookin’ snake that was slithering past and proceed to toss it into one end of that log? Only when you picked it up, it bit you on the calf. Remember that? Tiny Jack came out of the other end of that log like a race horse at the starting line. After I tied him up, I killed the snake, sliced your leg with my hunting knife, and proceeded to suck the venom out of your leg, remember? Now who was backing up who on that day?”
By this time Sky was laughing so hard, remembering, that he held his stomach. “And when we got the snake home, Dad looked at it and told us it was nothing more than a harmless garden variety snake that could do no one any harm.”
Jason gave a snort. “And I sucked your blood,” he said in disgust.
Sky guffawed again. “All the way home that day I was sure I was going to die.” He studied the amusement dancing in Jason’s eyes and realized how much he’d missed the times like this together.
“Well, I hope I don’t have to suck any more of your blood,” Jason said. “But no matter what, you can count on me today if you need help.” His face abruptly turned serious as though he wanted to make sure Sky knew he really meant what he said.
“I’ll count on that.” Sky opened the door and went in search of Jed, hoping to catch him and Wild Bill Currey together.
Just as he stepped out the door, though, he saw Trace Johnson coming down the street.
“Mornin’,” Trace called.
Sky nodded. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. I don’t have a lot of time, but I have this hunch and if it pans out, I think you’ll be glad we followed it. If it doesn’t, we won’t have lost anything, either.”
“What kind of a hunch?”
“Did you ever say what color of hair that girl had? The one whose parents were murdered back east?”
Trace frowned. “I don’t recall saying, but blond.”
“Alice Fraser has blond hair. Did you notice her at the funeral?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe I’m stretching a bit,” Sky continued, “but do you think this man you’re looking for might have a penchant for blonds?”
“Could be, but I don’t quite see the connection.”
“What if he had an interest in the blond girl back east? He took her out a couple of times, but then when he wanted to get serious, her father put an end to it? Maybe the robbery was a cover-up for his real intention—murder?”
Trace ran a hand down his long beard in thought.
Sky went on. “A couple of months ago Fraser mentioned in passing that this lunatic—that was his exact word—was interested in his daughter. He told her suitor in no uncertain terms that he was not to call on Alice again. You following me now?”
Trace nodded, understanding lighting his eyes.
“I need to know the man’s name. His tracks are all over here, and Lee Chang recognized his description. I think he had something to do with this.” Trace thought for only a moment. “Percival Hunter.”
Sky frowned. His heart rate quickened as all the pieces suddenly began to fall into place. “He rode the stage up from Lewiston with you and my wife, Brooke, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Trace nodded.
“Well, my wife wasn’t afraid of Percival then. She was very comfortable around him, in fact.” Sky was thinking out loud. “But on the night of the murder she saw a man, which she claimed was you, in the alley by Fraser’s store. Now, you told me you weren’t here that night, and all of a sudden at the funeral that day my wife turned pale as death itself over something. Was Percival Hunter at Fraser’s funeral?”
Trace nodded.
Sky rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe Brooke saw him and it was him she was afraid of. Now what does that tell you?”
“That something happened to make her afraid of Hunter between the time she first met him and the day of the funeral.”
“Exactly. I think he was the man in the alley. Maybe he saw her and somehow got to her and threatened her into silence.”
Sky’s body trembled as he spoke. He snatched his hat from his head and raked a hand back through his hair in agitation. To actually say these things out loud and realize that they made sense caused his blood to run cold with fear for Brooke. That someone had been near her, threatening her and causing her terror, was unforgivable.
He straightened at the next thought. He had seen Percival’s tracks in the barn yard even before the night of the murder. Hunter had been following Brooke for a while.
Rage coursed through every vein in his body. He pictured Brooke’s strawberry-blond curls and forced himself to say the next words even as his heart hammered with dread at the thought. “I think he will be paying our farm a visit, and maybe I can help you get the information you need to arrest him and get a conviction. Probably not for this crime, because Lee Chang doesn’t seem to want to talk, but hopefully for that other one.”
Trace Johnson eyed Sky as he turned his hat around by the rim. “Are you too close to this one to think clearly?”
Sky chuckled nervously. “Probably, but I’m all the hope you’ve got.”
Trace nodded. “I’ll head out to your place right now if it will make you feel any better.”
“Yeah, I think it would, thanks. My mother and dad are out there. Dad’s a lawman, but he’s not expecting any trouble, so you might want to give him the heads-up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Sky pushed his hat back onto his head.
Trace moved off silently in the direction of his horse.
Sky prayed like he never had before that the Lord would protect Brooke until he could get home again.
Brooke moved the horse confidently through the brush now, not bothering to
keep quiet. Pierce City was just over the next little rise. She ducked under a large branch that stretched across the trail and moved ahead, intent on her goal.
When she had first left the house, all of Sky’s warnings about the men of the posse, not to mention thoughts about Percival Hunter, had come to mind. However, the heavy feel of the .22 in her dress pocket reassured her. If anyone accosted her, she would simply pull it out, point it in their direction, and they would have to let her pass.
She pressed on, wishing she had told Sky the truth earlier. Then this little morning jaunt would not be necessary. But she knew innocent men might be convicted if she didn’t arrive and tell all she had really seen. Which, when she stopped to think about it, wasn’t much, but she must have seen something important…otherwise why would Percival have threatened her the way he did?
What had she actually seen that night? She fiddled with the loose ends of the reins as she tried to think of anything incriminating she might have seen and just not recognized.
The snapping of branches caught her attention. She lifted her head and pulled her mount to a stop, listening. Another horse was coming through the brush to her right!
Sweat broke out all over and she jerked on the reins, but the horse was confused by the sudden jolt and only backed up a few steps.
Percival Hunter rode his horse into the trail in front of her.
She gasped, her heart pounding in her ears. Too late! She froze, unable to think of a thing to do. All the threats this man had made against her came rushing to mind and she swayed in the saddle. Jesus, help me!
“Well,” Percival chuckled sardonically, “if it isn’t little Mrs. Jordan! Simply out for an early morning ride, I suppose?” He eyed her coldly. “You wouldn’t be on your way into town to confess your little lies, would you?”
Brooke’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t have spoken if she had wanted to, but suddenly her mind cleared. She had to get away from this man. Now! Spinning her horse around, she spurred it back down the trail toward home.
Rocky Mountain Oasis Page 23
