by Duane Boehm
The two men were killing some time before Finnie left to clean the Last Chance and were arguing the proper way to cut catfish for the frying pan. The debate was getting lively when Blackie, from the livery stable, walked into the jail.
“What brings you this way?” Gideon asked, relieved to have a diversion.
“I walk past the alley of the Lucky Horse every morning and today Cal Simpson and his bartender were putting a rolled up rug into the back of a buckboard. From the way they were carrying it and the way it bowed in the middle, I think it had a body wrapped in it. They never noticed me and I scurried on over here,” Blackie said.
The Lucky Horse was the other saloon in Last Stand. The place was rowdy and frequented by a rougher crowd. Gideon disliked the run–hole and its owner and only went there when his job demanded it.
Gideon leaned back in his chair. “Do you really think that it was a body?”
“Well, I guess it might not be, but something sure was in that rug,” Blackie said.
“I’ll walk over there and have a look. You two need to keep this to yourselves,” Gideon said.
Finnie jumped up from his seat, tugging his hat down tightly on his head. “I’m not some yappy schoolgirl. You know that I can keep my mouth shut,” he said in his thick accent before disappearing out the door.
Gideon found the alley empty except for its usual stack of garbage and the pungent smell of piss. Traces of the wheel prints from the buckboard were clearly visible. Walking back to the jail, he mounted his horse. The track was easy to see to determine which direction they had left and he caught sight of them a half–mile from town moving at a brisk clip. Deciding to see what their plan was, he hung back out of sight and followed at a leisurely pace.
After about another mile, Gideon found where the wagon had turned down an old logging path. Tying his horse just off the road, he pulled his Winchester from its scabbard and walked down the logging trail until he spied the wagon. Sneaking in close enough to get a view, he saw the two men digging a hole and was content to let them work up a good sweat.
“Are you men digging for gold? I’ve been standing here watching and you’re sure attacking that ground at a feverish pace,” Gideon said with his rifle held leisurely at his waist and pointed in their direction.
The two men froze at the sight of the sheriff. Cal Simpson, the saloon owner, had been hostile towards Gideon since his appointment as sheriff and glared back as if hoping that looks could kill. “We’re out here burying my dog,” he said.
“It’s a long ways to travel for a dog burial,” Gideon said as he walked to the wagon and confiscated their rifle. “Unroll the rug.”
Cal continued to stare at Gideon while the bartender gazed at the ground.
“Alright, it’s not my dog. One of my whores was addicted to morphine and she took too much and died. We’re out here burying her. There’s no law against it,” Cal said.
“What’s her name?” Gideon asked.
“Minnie Ware,” Cal answered.
“What’s your name?” Gideon asked the bartender.
“Leo Jones,” he said, still not looking up from the ground.
“We usually bury our dead at the cemetery. Seems kind of shady to me,” Gideon said.
“You know how those church ladies can be. I didn’t figure they would want some whore buried in the cemetery,” Cal said.
“I never knew you to be so thoughtful, Cal. I might just come up with a whole new opinion of you, but I think that we had better have old Doc determine the cause of death. I wouldn’t want anybody to get away with murder,” Gideon said.
Cal began to protest, but Gideon cocked his Winchester and motioned with it for them to get back on the wagon. He followed the wagon back to town and then forced the two men to carry the rug into the doctor’s office.
The doctor entered the front office after hearing the commotion. Looking surprised at seeing the rug placed on his floor, he asked, “What in darnation is this all about?”
“I’ll be back in a minute to help you. I’m going to lock these two up first,” Gideon said.
“You have no right to lock us up. What law have we broken? You don’t get to make the rules up as you go,” Cal said.
“Cal, you’re about to use up all my goodwill. You can either march across the street or I can knock you silly and drag you myself,” Gideon said.
After giving Gideon one more go to hell stare, he headed out the door. Gideon locked the men up and returned to the doctor’s office. He and the doctor unrolled the rug and lifted the body onto the table.
Minnie Ware was naked with bruising on her face and body. Gideon had never met her and didn’t even remember seeing her around town. The girl looked to be about twenty years old, petite, and pretty. Seeing her made him think about his own daughter. Joann was not much younger than Minnie was. Since learning that he had a daughter and building a relationship with her, he had become much more aware of the plight of young women. Touching the dead girl’s face, he wondered what the story was that she ended up a whore.
“Cal said she died of a morphine overdose,” Gideon said.
Doc Abram held one of her arms and lightly touched a bruise. “That morphine must have made her beat the hell out of herself then. Looks like strangulation to me. You get on out of here and let me do a proper examination. I’ll look you up when I know something,” he said.
Gideon walked to the Lucky Horse. He found the front door locked so he walked around to the alley and let himself in through the back door. The place looked empty until he tried a side door and found two whores sitting at a table drinking coffee. Gideon only entered the Lucky Horse when necessary and did not know the prostitutes. The two women exchanged glances at seeing the sheriff.
“Ladies, I would like to know what you know about Minnie Ware’s death?” Gideon said.
Each of the whores waited for the other to speak before the one on Gideon’s left finally interrupted the silence. “The three of us always have a drink at the end of the evening and when Minnie didn’t come down, I went to her room and found her dead,” she said.
“Do either of you know anything about her or from where she came?” Gideon inquired.
“None of us go around and brag about our past life. It’s best not to tell where you are from so that nobody goes looking your family up and spreading the news that their daughter is a whore,” the one on the left said.
“Who did you last see her with?” Gideon asked.
The question caused both women to look down at the table. “A lot of the times we are upstairs with a man when one of the other of us gets a customer so that we don’t see them. We already talked about it and neither of us knows,” the same whore said and started picking at her fingernails.
“What about Cal and Leo?” Gideon asked.
“Cal wasn’t here last night and Leo is so scared of women that he don’t come within ten feet of us,” the other whore said and giggled.
“So the only thing that you two know is that you found Minnie dead. Is that about the size of it?” he asked.
The girls looked down again, both nodding their heads. Gideon felt sure that they knew more than they were telling, but saw little chance of getting it out of them.
“Take me to her room,” Gideon commanded.
After they led him to Minnie’s room, Gideon dismissed the women. The room appeared tidy and clean except for the bed, which looked as if there had been a wrestling match in it. A small amount of blood spotted the sheets. He looked on her vanity and in her drawers, but found no sign of morphine or any papers to help figure out her past life. Giving the room one last glance, he decided that Minnie Ware had been murdered and that those that might be of some help had no intentions of cooperating.
Gideon walked back to the jail and sat down at his desk. He was still sitting there an hour later, lost in thought on how he was going to solve the murder if no one was going to talk, when Doc Abram entered the office.
“She was definitely stran
gled,” Doc said as a greeting. “Somebody worked her over good and then strangled her. She had had sex, but I’m not sure that means much considering her line of work. Two of her fingernails on her right hand were broken and there was some blood under them. I’d say that the killer is sporting some pretty wicked claw marks. Other than that, she was a healthy young woman.”
“The other two whores in the saloon said that they found her last night, but nobody is talking,” Gideon said.
“I’d say that’s about right. It didn’t happen this morning,” Doc said.
“Looking for somebody scratched up is about the only thing that I have to go on. Maybe I should just round me up every man within riding distance and give them a look over because I don’t think anybody is going to talk,” Gideon said.
“I can’t help you there. Good luck. It doesn’t look good on the town to have such notoriety,” Doc said before taking his leave.
Gideon walked back to the room that housed the prisoners. Both men sat on their beds, looking up as he entered.
“I can charge both of you with concealing a murder. I want some answers,” Gideon said.
Cal stood up and walked to the door. “I wasn’t there last night and didn’t find out about her until this morning. I don’t know nothing,” he said.
“So I’ve been told, but your bartender was there,” Gideon said.
Leo stood up and brushed his pants to remove dried dirt from his grave digging. “I don’t watch who the girls take upstairs. That stuff is all between Cal and the whores. I stay away from them. I’ve seen what the French pox can do to a man and I stay clear of it,” he said.
“Who was in the saloon last night?” Gideon asked.
“I haven’t lived here long enough to know anybody’s name. It was just a bunch of cowboys,” Leo said.
Gideon unlocked the door to their cell. “I’m going to let you two go for now until I decide if I’m going to charge you with anything. Don’t be leaving the area and if you come by any information that can help find the murderer, you best come see me,” he said.
Cal Simpson glared at Gideon as he walked out of the cell.
Gideon asked, “Do you have something that you want to say?”
The two men headed out the door without saying another word. Gideon walked to his desk, finding Finnie sitting in his chair and looking at wanted posters. With the way the day had gone, the sight almost annoyed him, but his friend looked so much better than when he found him that he decided not to complain.
“Are you planning on becoming a bounty hunter?” Gideon asked.
“No, I think I’ve found my calling as Mary’s maid. She sure is a taskmaster, but she is very pleasant about it. She’s quite the sweet young lass, but it’s a sad day to know that I’ve slipped from being a respected soldier to cleaning saloons,” Finnie said wistfully.
“When we get you weaned off the bottle completely, I will get you a job on a ranch. These ranchers always need good ranch hands. A lot of them tend not to be very reliable,” Gideon said.
“Don’t be counting your chicks before they hatch. That bottle still has a powerful hold on me. It’s only out of respect to you that I haven’t slipped. And besides, I can’t rope. Fist fighting and shooting a gun are the only things that I was ever much good at,” Finnie proclaimed.
“Whatever it takes for you to stay sober, you just keep on doing it. I got a murdered whore over at the other saloon and I need to work on that. I’ll see you later,” Gideon said and walked out of the jail.
Gideon walked to the Last Chance. The time was a little after one o’clock and the lunch crowd had thinned. He seated himself at his usual table, catching Mary’s eye as he did so and she walked over to him.
“Do you want a beer and lunch?” Mary asked.
“That sounds good. I also need to talk to you if you can spare the time,” Gideon said.
“I can do that. You look troubled. Had a bad day?” she said.
“I thought that you knew me better than I knew myself. You tell me,” he joked.
“I’ll be right back and put a smile on that face for me,” she said.
Mary returned with a lunch of boiled ham, potato slices, and a beer. She sat down beside him and patted his arm. “What’s troubling you?” she asked.
“Before we get to that, how is Finnie working out?” Gideon asked.
“He needs a shot of whiskey when he gets here and a shot on his way out the door, but I certainly get my money’s worth on his labor. He’s quite the charming Irishman when he’s not pining for a drink,” Mary said.
“I’m glad to hear that. He was quite the character in his day. I hope we can get him dried out and he can find himself. Kind of like I did,” he said before sipping his beer.
“Have a little faith in him. I think he wants it,” she said.
Mary had been a whore in the Last Chance before its saloon owner had been murdered. The deceased proprietor had surprised the whole town by willing the saloon to her. Gideon wondered how she would take the news of one of the town whores being killed.
“Mary, one of the girls at the Lucky Horse was murdered,” he said.
“Oh, my God. Do you know who did it?” she asked.
Mary’s face betrayed how badly the news shook her and with all that she had been through in her life, it took a lot to do that.
“I don’t have a clue and I’m not getting any cooperation from anybody over there. I can’t even find out who was over there last night. That’s why I need your help. I was hoping that you could get the news out and see if anybody mentions being over there. Maybe somebody saw something,” he said.
“You know this hits close to home and I know full well how some men are. I will do whatever I can for you. You know that,” Mary said.
“I know. I hate to keep dragging you into these things. I guess I need to get the city council to start paying you for all the spying that you do for me,” Gideon said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I hope that you can get to the bottom of this,” she said.
“Me too. I don’t have a good feeling about it,” he said and took a bite of ham.
Chapter 6
Two days had gone by since the murder of Minnie Ware and Gideon was no closer to solving the crime than on the day he started. Mary had talked to a couple of cowboys that had been at the Lucky Horse that night, but neither of them had seen anything unusual and there was no reason to doubt their stories.
Frustrated by his lack of progress, Gideon decided to head home early in the afternoon and take Finnie along to introduce him to Abby. She had been after him to bring Finnie home for dinner and the meal gave Gideon an excuse to get out of town in hopes that beginning fresh the next day would lead to a break in the murder.
Finnie was a reluctant guest and took considerable persuading to talk him into coming. Gideon had expected such a dustup and it was one of the reasons he had postponed the introduction until now. The Irishman groused on the ride to the cabin, nervous that he was no longer fit to meet Abby. Gideon finally reached back into his saddlebag and pulled out his whiskey bottle, letting Finnie take a bigger swig than he would have liked in order to calm him. The drink seemed to help as he quieted down and complimented Gideon on his fine looking cabin and barn.
Gideon’s Redbone Coonhound jumped off the porch and started baying at Finnie. “Good Lord, that dog is loud. I never knew you to coon hunt,” Finnie said.
“Nobody can sneak up on us with Red around, but I don’t hunt him very much,” Gideon said.
“I would think not,” Finnie said.
“Looks like Sarah is here,” Gideon said at recognizing Ethan’s horse and buckboard tied by the barn.
The two men walked into the cabin, finding Sarah sitting at the table beside Abby and patting her arm while the expecting mother sobbed.
Alarmed, Gideon started rapidly firing questions. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
Abby gulped a breath of air before speaking. “I’ve been think
ing about what you said and maybe you’re right that I’m too old to have a baby and we don’t even have a cradle or anything. I gave all Winnie’s baby things away. I never thought this would happen again,” she said between sobs.
Gideon avoided looking at Sarah, but he could feel her glare boring a hole through him nonetheless. Concentrating on calming his wife, he said, “Abby, you know how much I want this baby. I was just shocked at the news and did not choose my words well. It has been a year of huge changes for me. And I will make you a cradle. It’s not as if the baby is due tomorrow. We have lots of time.”
“I’ll be in my fifties when this baby moves out,” Abby said and put her head down in her arms and began wailing.
Gideon glanced at Finnie. His friend looked as if he might bolt for the door and he thought about following him if he did. In all the years of knowing Abby, he had never seen her cry over much of anything. She could get mad as a wet hen, but seldom shed tears. He worked up the nerve to glance at Sarah who was smiling at him knowingly.
“Gideon, I know you don’t have any experience with this, but expecting women can be emotional. I don’t know what it is about pregnancy, but it makes our moods go wild. We can be crying one minute and giggling the next. One time when I was pregnant with Benjamin, I cried because Ethan mentioned that his shirt needed a button sewn on it and I thought that he was picking on me. And you might want to choose your words more carefully from here on out,” Sarah said.
Abby began composing herself, raising her head up and wiping the tears away. “I’m so sorry for my behavior. Please introduce your friend to us,” she said.
“Abby and Sarah, this here is Finnegan Ford. Better known as Finnie,” Gideon said.
The two women greeted him, before Finnie said, “I’ve spent many a night by a campfire with Gideon listening to him talk about your beauty and charm, and I must say that it was no exaggeration.”
Abby giggled at the compliment. “Well aren’t you sweet. I don’t think there’s much about me that could be taken for beautiful or charming at this moment. I wish I would have made a better first impression,” she said.
