Murder for Greenhorns

by Kresge, Robert

  “Now go forth into the warm sunshine of this week, welcoming all the bright and beautiful opportunities God grants us. Amen.”

  With that, he closed his Bible. Kate played a little piece her mother had taught her as Barnes walked to the rear and the worshipers stood and filed out, stopping to shake his hand. Most would return shortly with their covered dishes to share and some box lunches for the auction. Kate finished her piece as Monday and Martha were shaking the preacher’s hand at the door. She limped forward on sore feet and followed them.

  “Reverend Barnes, I felt you were speaking directly to me several times this morning.”

  “Good, Kate. I was.”

  “I don’t mean just in your sermon. Some lines of the hymns and psalms you chose, too.”

  “Ahhh. Well, I admit I had some other psalms picked out, but I changed some this morning, after my experiences of the last two days.”

  “Oh, I hope you don’t mean last night. I came in quite late, but I tried not to make any noise. My feet hurt so badly. They’ve done everything but bleed.”

  “I’m sorry about your feet; I noticed you limping a little. Since I was one of your last partners, perhaps I was the straw that broke. . . . No, wait. That wouldn’t be as complimentary as I intended. Come outside and sit by me. I’ll see to it that you’ll have no more standing, walking, or dancing to do today.”

  As they left, Monday led a half dozen men inside, where they picked up the benches and moved them out onto last night’s dance floor. Boys sat on wagons around the makeshift town square. Men came with tables, and women and girls brought food and pitchers of water and lemonade.

  * * * * *

  After the box lunch auction and the meal, families and couples began to drift away. Many wished Jonah a safe journey tomorrow to his next stop in Rawlins. Kate and Becky sent the admirers who’d bought their box lunches off for more lemonade. Becky moved down the bench to sit next to Kate.

  “That sure was some fine dancing you did with Pete Loomis last night, Miss Shaw. What did he do, step on your foot?”

  “Please, Becky. As long as you’re not going to be one of my students, you must call me Kate. We’re only two years apart. I hate to talk about that man Loomis. It spoils this lovely day. If I told the marshal what he did—well, I don’t know what the marshal would do.”

  “Glad the two of them didn’t come bid on our lunches. But they probably blew their money on liquor and cards last night. I bet they’re sleeping off a bad drunk this morning.” She lowered her voice. “You know, Corey’s sweet on you. Wouldn’t stop talking about you all the way home last night. Oops, here they come back.”

  She and Becky didn’t let on what they’d been talking about. Corey looked like he wanted to say something, and Becky looked exasperated.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Corey. Now she’s my friend, too; I’ll do it. Kate, would you come to supper at our place next Saturday night? In fact, come earlier, and we’ll go riding in the afternoon. All three of us.” She looked at her brother and stuck out her tongue.

  Kate was pleased. And glad she’d made a friend of Becky. There weren’t many women near her own age and Becky would certainly be interesting company. Corey was a pleasant young man. What would they think, though, when she and Monday revealed their charade?

  Kate felt Becky and Corey watching her, waiting for an answer. She quickly blurted out, “Of course, I’d love to come. I’ll wear my riding skirt and boots.” She was already moving in the best circles of Warbonnet society. Still, Kate mused, as Becky and Corey went to speak with their parents, she ought to talk to Monday about Jonah’s choice of psalms and hymns this morning. But Monday and Martha were deep in conversation. It would keep until tomorrow. She had questions for Liza Crandall later today.

  Chapter 29

  Monday

  Warbonnet

  Kate and Martha fought their skirts in a stiff breeze to walk up to the cemetery above town with Jonah. The women brought fresh flowers. They stopped at Jack Haskell’s grave first, where Jonah offered a prayer. When he paused near the end, Martha interjected that Jack would have been pleased to meet Kate, to know their children would be in such good hands. After that, she cried. Jonah ended the prayer and put his arm around her shoulders. Martha placed her flowers and went back alone. Kate led Jonah to the grave marked Monday Malone and secured her flowers there.

  “Martha was right, Kate. I sense that you’ll be a wonderful teacher and that you’ll care deeply for all your pupils. Indeed, for the welfare of the entire town.”

  Then he moved so he could look her in the face and took both her hands in his. “Kate, I have to know what’s going on. Are you a party to fraud? Are you deceiving this town?” He watched her eyes.

  The questions rocked Kate. She tried to take her hands away, to put them to her face. But Jonah held them tight.

  “Kate, don’t try to pull away. Answer my questions. Tell me the truth.”

  “I, I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.” She looked down and couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve tried to prepare myself for the beginning of the school term and have conducted myself according to the highest standards of my faith, my family, and Miss Bishop’s Normal School. I cannot think what you may have heard, but—”

  “What about you and this man who calls himself Sam Taggart? I know he’s not who he claims to be. Are you party to his deceit, or are you honestly deceived yourself? I can’t ride out of here today and leave your life and possibly your very soul in jeopardy.”

  His earnestness frightened her. She couldn’t catch her breath. At last, Jonah released one hand, and she brought it to her chest. Her heart was racing. All her concerns about the psalms and the hymns came back. Kate swallowed hard and willed herself to be calm. She waved her hand at him as she tried to speak, and he released her other hand. He couldn’t be the killer. But who else but a guilty party could have seen through their masquerade?

  She struggled to get the words out. “How, how do you know he isn’t Sam Taggart?”

  “Three years ago in Kansas, as a young seminary graduate, I ate supper one Sunday with Sam and Emma Taggart. He was considerably older than this young man. What hold does he have over you, Kate, that you’re party to his deception?”

  At length, she calmed herself enough to speak. She told Jonah how she’d met Sam Taggart. She told of meeting Monday the next morning and described their journey north. Kate related how Taggart had been killed on the morning of the third day, how Monday had searched for the killer, then they’d ridden to Warbonnet with the marshal’s body. She told him it had been her idea that Monday pretend to be the marshal and gave him the reasons she’d conceived the plan.

  “Well,” Jonah said at last, “I’ll concede that you’re probably right in assuming the murderer would never be identified. But I’m greatly concerned that you’ve woven a web of lies around this town that will have consequences that perhaps cannot be mended.”

  She told him of the drawings she’d made and of Monday’s efforts with the ranchers, farmers, and miners, and of her own endeavors to rule out townspeople who might have come under suspicion.

  “I believe we may get information tonight that could help us conclude our investigation.” She told him about the letter to Sheriff Boswell in Laramie concerning property records and the previous residences of some area residents. “I still think someone who knew Marshal Taggart in Kansas or Colorado must’ve killed him. The answers we receive may help identify the killer.”

  Jonah was silent for a while. “I believe you’ve told me the truth, Kate. I can understand the turmoil you must have endured in the last two weeks, living this lie. I think you truly have a high purpose behind your actions. But as I’m reassured for your soul, I remain concerned for your safety. Your passion for justice has placed you squarely in harm’s way, and I fear for you. As your pastor. As your friend. As your dance partner.” He smiled.

  “I could offer a prayer here at Sam Taggart’s grave, but I’d like you to do that.
Let God hear what’s in your heart. Ask Him what you should do to make things right.”

  Kate thought for a moment, then bowed her head.

  “Lord, in my pride, I’ve tried to bring justice to a situation that may not be resolved here on earth. In so doing, I’ve endangered myself and the life of an innocent man. By helping place the body of Sam Taggart in this mismarked grave, I’ve tarnished the memory of a man who spent his life trying to bring law and order to the frontier.

  “Forgive me my sins and give me strength for the trials of tomorrow. I promise that if my letter of inquiry comes to naught, I shall confess my sins before the town and throw myself on the mercy of those I’ve come to regard as friends. Let your servant, Sam Taggart, rest in peace, and comfort his widow. Let your will be done. Amen.”

  Barnes offered his own prayer, then read from the 146th Psalm. Kate thought the parts about not trusting in princes and returning to the earth were very appropriate. He shared the Bible with Kate and they read together the passage that went, The Lord looseth the prisoners and openeth the eyes of the blind, but the way of the wicked he turneth upside down.”

  Jonah closed the Bible. “That was one of the best passages on justice I could find for you, Kate. I pray the way of the wicked will be turned upside down, but that the Lord will preserve you amid whatever tribulation occurs in that turning.”

  Kate placed her flowers on the grave and they walked back down to the boarding house.

  Jonah collected his lance and valise from the hallway and said goodbye to Martha, Sally, and Buxton. When they all went out to the front porch, Monday was waiting with Jonah’s brown horse saddled and ready. Monday tied the preacher’s valise behind the saddle and Kate looped a full canteen over his saddlehorn. Before mounting, Jonah went up to Monday on the far side of the horse and spoke in a low voice, so Martha and the children couldn’t hear him. Kate heard every word.

  “Miss Shaw told me what you and she are about, Mr. Malone. I’m glad I didn’t blurt out my suspicions on Friday night. I believe you’re a good man, trying to do justice and holding her in high regard. The fact that you intend to go on to Montana proves your honorable intentions and explains why you gave me your dance ticket Saturday night. I’m grateful for that and glad to have become acquainted with Miss Shaw, but I’m greatly concerned that she not come to any harm. When I return here next month, I expect to dance with her again. I’ll pray for her safety and your success.” He offered his hand and finally a smile. “Good luck, Marshal.”

  Kate was relieved the horse’s head prevented anyone on the porch from seeing Monday’s expression.

  “All right, Rev—Jonah.” Monday glanced at Kate. “I promise I’ll do as much to make sure she’s safe as I will to find the killer. Her safety’s important to me, too. Hope that’s good enough for you.”

  They shook hands and Jonah climbed into the saddle. Buxton came and handed up his lance. They all waved as Jonah rode off to the west, where the Oregon Trail would take him to old Fort Caspar and on to Rawlins.

  As the Haskells went into the house, Kate took Monday’s elbow.

  “We need to go somewhere we can talk. I have so much to tell you.”

  Monday led Kate down to the jail. He gave her the stool and went to the bunk.

  “I’ve got something to show you.” He held up the blanket, and in the light filtering through the front windows, she saw it was pierced by many holes. She drew in a sharp breath.

  “When did that happen? You could’ve been killed.”

  “Saturday night, during the dance. I think it was meant as a warning. As to who did it, what do you smell in here?”

  “Well, I smell sweat, old clothes, maybe tobacco of some kind.” Monday pointed his boot at a dark brown stain on the floor near the corner of the desk. “What is that, tobacco juice?”

  “Yep. I recollect a few miners and one or two soldiers were chewing plug that night. Anybody else you recall?”

  She thought of Loomis and the brown stains on his chin and teeth. “I believe Pete Loomis may have chewed tobacco that night, and perhaps that other creature with him—”

  “Crail. Logan’s foreman. Somebody’s sending me a message. Not sure what it is, though. I had a run-in with those two at the saloon early that evening. Joe tells me you did, too.”

  “Yes, Loomis made improper advances to me on the dance floor.” She saw him clench his fists and held up her hand. “But you needn’t be concerned. I dealt with him, just as Becky Masterson had to do with Crail a few months ago. Crail doesn’t bother her any more and I’m certain Loomis will let me alone from now on. I’d be sorry if that contributed to his hostility toward you.” She rubbed the scar on her left hand.

  “Let’s talk about me, Miss Kate. How did Jonah know my name this morning?”

  Kate got up and began to pace. “I’ve been so concerned since church yesterday morning. Did you notice? The hymns and psalms he picked, especially those he had us read, had to do with protecting us or with lying. My passage in particular. His sermon, even his prayers, made me wonder. I noticed you showed a certain wariness of him from Friday evening, but I couldn’t understand why he treated you in similar fashion. This morning up at the marshal’s grave, I got my answer. Jonah once met the real Sam Taggart and knew you were just pretending. I had to tell him the entire story.

  “In the end, Jonah said he understood what we were trying to do. But he was afraid we’d face mortal danger in our quest and feared that the damage we may have done with our lies might never be healed. He asked me to offer up a prayer for all of us—you, me, Sam Taggart—and to tell the truth to the people of Warbonnet as soon as possible, if Roy doesn’t bring us the information we need this evening.”

  She went to a front window and looked out toward the street. She began to twist a strand of hair around one finger, working it into a tight curl.

  “This living a lie has been preying on my mind. It was such a relief to tell someone like Jonah the truth. I understand now why you unburdened yourself to Bull. How are you doing?”

  “Not too good. At first, I thought there was nothing to it, lying to a bunch of strangers. After a rough start, I found it was easy. But that was two weeks ago. Now I find I’m not lying to strangers any more, but to friends, and that’s hard. Must be like what you’re going through.”

  Kate spoke in a barely audible voice without turning from the window. “I fear we are come to a hard place, you and I. We must find a way to identify the killer or give up and admit what we’ve done. Or rather, what I made you do. Jonah made me realize I was willful and selfish in, in enticing you to misrepresent yourself.”

  “That’s a load of— well, it’s a load, Miss Kate. You didn’t make me do nothing I didn’t want to do. I was already coming to Warbonnet with you. I gave the marshal my word I’d help him see you here safe. I always meant to ride on to Montana after making a good try here to find that killer.” Kate turned from the window to look at him.

  “But I’ll regret it if I have to leave you in a town that might be sore at you. Reckon the only way I can prevent that is to make sure we figure out this murder. If you say it’s got to be by tomorrow, then I’ll do whatever it takes to lay this thing to rest and make you a hero to this town. I’ll be the liar they can blame.”

  Kate was stunned. That was quite a speech. If she thought he’d forsaken her for Becky Masterson, he now sounded like the same cowboy who’d grudgingly admitted watching her bathe back on Box Elder Creek two weeks ago. God, only two weeks ago. She returned to the stool.

  “All right, Monday. Then let’s assume we may get some help—divine help or just the assistance of Sheriff Boswell—when the mail arrives tonight. Until then, let’s make a short list of the possibilities. Oh, I almost forgot. Jonah gave me valuable information. When he met Taggart three years ago, the marshal didn’t have a mustache. That means the best likeness from his Kansas days may have been the one pinned on your board out front. The first one I gave you may not have helped your inquiries.�
��

  “Hmmm. I used the name Taggart as well as showing that picture around. Whoever shot his picture at the jail full of holes mighta done it because they saw a drawing of the Sam Taggart they knew. That could explain why nobody reacted to my drawing with the mustache. If you could do another one, I could take it around again.”

  “That’s a good idea. Maybe we can rule out some suspects. I’ve learned some other things since I saw you yesterday.”

  “All right. There’s pencil and paper in that top drawer.”

  Kate opened the drawer. She found a stub of pencil, a calendar, and a sheet of paper covered in little “M”s and double “M”s in various styles. “What’s this?”

  Monday seemed embarrassed. “Oh, that’s just my thinking on a brand. For someday, when I get my own ranch. Forget that. Let’s talk about the two weeks we been here.”

  “Last Wednesday was when I settled on Len Odom as my leading suspect among the townspeople. When he fired at you and proved to be a good shot without his glasses.”

  “I see. If I try to do the same thing, we could mark the night when somebody shot the eyes out of your drawing. That was the night before our picnic. A week ago Sunday, the 31st.”

  “Then that Saturday,” Kate went on, “the day before, was the day I first saw those two skunks, Crail and Loomis. They came into town with Mr. Logan that day, and I felt their hot eyes on me, though I didn’t know who they were.” She’d like them to be suspects, just because they were so threatening and had probably cut up Monday’s bed.

  “Anyway, I’ll put Len Odom first on our list. But we know he doesn’t keep a big black horse at Fitch’s stable, or anywhere else in town; we would have found it. I wish I could find a way to make his wife Jane a suspect, too. She hates me and works me mischief at every opportunity. I should be glad they have no children in my school, but I despair—”