A Bride's Dilemma

by Blythe Carver

  Knox went to the icebox and pulled the door open. He turned his head away immediately and slammed it shut.

  “What was that?” Baxter asked, wrinkling his nose.

  “Somethin’ bad in that icebox. Milk or cheese or something.”

  Baxter turned in place, his hands on his waistband. “So, what do you think? Looks like he ain’t been here in a while.”

  “When did they report that he stole the equipment from the lumberyard?” Knox asked, thinking back to when the two fellows had made their report.

  “Two days ago? Not long enough for milk to spoil.”

  Knox nodded. “Or cheese, for that matter.”

  “Maybe he’s been staying up at the mill, ya know. In one of their cot rooms.”

  Sheriff Knox looked at the deputy with a clueless expression. “I beg your pardon?” The first thing Knox thought of was the rooms at a brothel.

  “They got cots for when the lumberjacks have a big job and don’t get any sleep. Or when someone gets hurt. It happens.”

  Knox turned away from the deputy, running his eyes over the living room furniture. He went to the other side of the room, which only took a few seconds, and knelt in front of the fireplace. He glanced to the side at the container of fireplace utensils and pulled out one of the two pokers.

  Sticking it in the ashes, he maneuvered what was there to see if there was any indication of how long ago the fire had burned. Judging from the coolness and the settling, he estimated it had been at least a couple days since a fire was burning in the hearth.

  He stood back up and put his hands on the grips of his guns, scanning the room.

  “I wonder where he was staying,” he murmured. “You think he went to his aunt’s for a while?”

  Baxter looked skeptical. “I doubt it. I don’t really think they get along that well. Bea is a strong woman, comfortable in her old age. Doesn’t really need a man for much more than the physical labor. And that wasn’t something Jonah liked to do unless he was being paid.”

  Every turn was making Knox think Jonah wasn’t the man he seemed to be at first. Jonah was a huge lumberjack, a man with a real presence. It was a shame he didn’t have the wherewithal to use his obvious skills to do good.

  “You know for a big man, he doesn’t fight very well,” Knox remarked, stepping away from the fireplace and heading toward the back of the house. There were two doors down the very short hallway leading off the living room. Knox opened one and stuck his head in. It was a washroom. A ceramic tub sat in a corner, two large buckets next to it, along with a pile of unfolded towels sitting atop a short set of dressers.

  He closed the door.

  The room across from the washroom was the only one left in the tiny house. Knox turned the knob and pushed the door open. He cringed and turned his head away for a moment. The smell coming from inside the room was overpowering.

  He whipped out his handkerchief from his back pocket and tied it as a mask over his mouth and nose. He looked back at Baxter, who had his lips pressed together and a look of speculation on his face.

  Knox went into the room and over to the bed, where the big man, Jonah Bell, was sprawled out wearing nothing but his undershorts. He was half-turned on his side with one arm under him and the other hanging over the edge of the bed. The back of his head was covered with blood.

  “Well, well, well,” Knox said, bending over the man while pressing the mask closer to his face. “Would you look at this? I don’t see any evidence of a fight.”

  “Maybe he was drunk and fell over and hit his head,” Baxter suggested from behind him. He’d barely stepped in the room, but his eyes were fixed on the dead man.

  Knox looked up at him. “Could be. But I don’t think so. This looks like a deliberate hit. A right strong one, too. Can’t think of how he would have gotten in this position if he’d fallen and hit his head.”

  “Maybe he dragged himself to bed,” Baxter added.

  Knox looked behind him and ran his eyes over the room. “No blood trail. Look at all the blood on his pillow and around his body right here.” Knox pointed close to Jonah’s head and at the pillow. “This happened here.” He surveyed the scene for another moment before saying, “Go on out and fetch the undertaker. He work as the coroner, too?”

  Deputy Baxter nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  16

  Knox stood back, looking down at the body of the man while he waited for Baxter to come back with the coroner. He examined the room more closely after the deputy left, noticing there wasn’t much to make the room—or the house, for that matter—personal to Jonah. There were no photographs of relatives or paintings hanging on the walls of any significance. His personal items included a brush for his hair and clothes.

  Knox spotted a pile of clothes in the corner and went over to them, leaning down to look closer. A heavy scent of sweat and dirt rose up into his nose, and he pushed the handkerchief with one hand, so it blocked the smell almost completely. Unfortunately, he couldn’t breathe with his mouth and nose covered, so he wrestled quickly through the clothes and pulled out a pair of trousers. They were dirty and wrinkled, but the weight told him there was something in the pockets. He was hoping it was a wallet. He wanted to see how much money Jonah carried around with him and if he had anything personal in there that would give a clue as to who did this.

  While he waited, Knox thought of the various people who could have committed the murder. The people closest to a murder victim were almost always responsible, but Knox couldn’t bring himself to believe Melissa or her brothers would be capable of such a thing. Especially when it seemed to Knox that Jonah was an overgrown bully, a man who gave off the presence of someone strong, capable, and intimidating but inside was nothing more than a scared child.

  It had only taken that one instance when Melissa paid for Jonah to get out of jail, and the man had screamed and wailed like a banshee because she had said things he didn’t like. Sometimes Knox wished he had stayed inside the jailhouse so he could hear the conversation. He wanted to know what she’d said that upset Jonah so much.

  There were, of course, other people who could have killed the lumberjack. The two he’d been fighting in the street, for one. That reminded Knox that he would have to speak to Buddy Corsack. As far as he knew, the man he’d put in the jail cell with Jonah was the lumberjack’s only friend. And Knox wasn’t sure they were actually friends to begin with.

  He searched the trouser pockets and pulled out a leather wallet with a satisfied half-grin. He dropped the smelly pants and glanced over at the body. It was time to get some fresh air.

  He left the room, carrying the wallet into the living room, and then out to the front porch, which was just a small slab of rock with a roof that probably wasn’t big enough to shelter Jonah when it was raining because of his large size.

  Clearly, the small house wasn’t made for a giant like Jonah.

  Had been.

  Knox flipped open the wallet and pushed his fingers through the folds, looking for anything of significance. The only thing he found was a small scrap of paper with a name and some numbers written on it. It meant nothing to Knox, but he was aware that it could become important in the future. He tucked it back where he got it and pushed the wallet into his own back pocket just as Baxter and a pale-skinned man with hair almost as black as Knox’s reaching his shoulders rode up to the house.

  “Boss,” Baxter greeted Knox as he dismounted. “This here’s Jack Canterfield, the undertaker and the coroner.”

  Jack dropped down from his saddle, already holding out his hand for the sheriff to shake. “Good to meet you, Sheriff. I kinda figured this was how we were gonna meet.”

  Knox stared at him in surprise, his eyebrows lifted. “You knew Jonah Bell was going to die?” he asked a little breathlessly.

  Jack’s eyes opened wide, and he hesitated, staring back at Knox. “Uh, no, uh, that’s not what I meant.” The coroner looked uncomfortable for a moment before a smile b
roke out on his face. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was more businesslike than anything. “Just under these circumstances. A death. That’s… sort of my job.”

  Knox gave the man a pleasant look. He decided he liked the undertaker and stepped to the side so the man could pass. “He’s in the bedroom,” he said. “Feel free to assess the situation and report to me, please. I’ll be right here. Had to get some fresh air.”

  “All righty.” The man slipped into the house carrying a large black shiny leather bag.

  Knox turned to Baxter, who was standing to the side and had watched the exchange in silence.

  “What do you think of him?” he asked. He was relying on the deputy to give him opinions of the various people in town he encountered.

  Baxter treated the question casually, shrugging his shoulders and saying, “He’s a good fella, I reckon. Don’t know why anybody would go into a job where they had to look at dead bodies all the time and sometimes do an examination.” He shuddered. “That’s not the job for me.”

  “That’s part of our job,” Knox remarked.

  Baxter swung his eyes to meet Knox’s and nodded. “Yeah, but he does it even when lawmen aren’t needed. Then he takes them back to his office and prepares them to be buried.” Baxter said the words as if he couldn’t believe such a job even existed.

  Knox chuckled. “Well, somebody has to do it.”

  Baxter nodded again. “Yep. Not me, though.”

  “Come on.” Knox gestured with his head toward the entrance. Baxter followed him into the house and to the bedroom.

  Jack was leaning over the body, looking closely at Jonah, pulling back tufts of hair, lifting his eyelids. He looked up when the two men entered.

  “You were right,” he said. “He’s dead.”

  Knox blinked at the man, confused until he realized it was Jack’s form of humor. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. What caused it? Blow to the head?”

  Jack gave the sheriff a look of approval and pointed with two fingers at the bloodiest spot on Jonah’s head. “Yep. Right there. Skull is cracked open, and you can see some of his brains in there if ya look hard enough.”

  “Think I’ll leave that to you,” Knox responded. “What else can you tell me?”

  “He’s been dead for a while. Rigor mortis has set in. He’s cold. I’d say he’s been dead since last night sometime. Stands to reason.” Jack stood up, pulling a cloth from his bag and wiping his hands with it. He moved his eyes over the body once more and then looked at Knox. “If ya asked me, he was laying in bed, and somebody snuck in and hit him. He died in the same position he was killed in.”

  Knox chewed the inside of his bottom lip. “But to be hit that hard, don’t you think it would have moved him?”

  All three men looked at Jonah Bell. Knox realized suddenly that there was a good chance someone had used a tool of some kind that wouldn’t have knocked Jonah off the bed simply because of his sheer size.

  “When I get him back to my office and can take a closer look, I’ll let you know what instrument was cause of death. Or at least a general idea.”

  Knox nodded.

  “I’ll need a couple deputies to help me carry him out to the wagon once I retrieve it. Shall I stop by the jailhouse and see who’s there?”

  Knox thought that was a good idea and gave the man a nod of approval. “Sounds good. Come on, Baxter, let’s get out of here.”

  He gestured with two fingers so the deputy would follow him out of the house.

  Once they were outside, Knox stood by while Baxter lit a cigarette. The two men were quiet for a few minutes while the coroner rode off to fetch his wagon.

  “So, what’s your thoughts on this, boss?” Baxter asked.

  Knox raised his eyebrows at the deputy. “I should be asking you this. I just got here two weeks ago, and there’s already been a murder. I don’t know whom to suspect. I’m gonna need you on this one, Deputy. I hope I can count on you.”

  Baxter gave him a definitive nod. “You can, boss. You can.”

  17

  Melissa stood up when she saw the sheriff and deputy turn onto their path from the main road.

  “What do you think this is all about?” Theresa asked from behind her. She glanced back to see her sister-in-law had stood up, lifting her knitting with her before dropping it in the basket next to the chair she’d been sitting in.

  “I don’t know,” Melissa retorted, a little irritated with the sheriff. She was sure there was nothing good to come from this visit. He probably wanted to know where Jonah was. “I’m sure it has something to do with Jonah. I’ll have to move out of town before I stop being associated with him now. How disappointing.”

  “I hope he doesn’t start trouble here at the ranch,” Theresa responded. Melissa looked over her shoulder at the woman, giving her a confused look.

  “Why would the sheriff start trouble here?” she asked. Secretly, she was wondering if Theresa was as irritated by the sheriff as she was. The last thing she needed was a handsome man like Robert Knox always seeing Jonah whenever he looked at her. She wished she’d never met Jonah, much less agreed to marry him.

  “No, I meant Jonah,” Theresa responded. “I worry about my children when feuds like this start.”

  Melissa moved her eyes back to the sheriff and deputy. “Let’s just see what he wants first before we start to worry,” she said.

  The two women moved to the edge of the porch. Melissa looked to the right at the field where the children were playing. It was a warm day, and the plan was to go to the river behind the house and swim when the ladies were ready to do it.

  She looked back to the lawmen as they got closer, hoping they weren’t planning on ruining that.

  “Howdy,” Baxter called out first. From the way the sheriff glanced at his deputy, Melissa was immediately suspicious of their reason for calling.

  “Howdy to you,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest and narrowing her eyes. “What’s going on? If you’re here about Jonah, I don’t know where he is, and I don’t plan to. I’m not marrying him anymore. I want nothing to do with him. He’s a scoundrel and a liar and a thief.”

  Melissa was surprised to feel a hand on her shoulder. She looked at Theresa, who was giving her a sympathetic look. She realized her voice had been trembling, and her body had tensed with anxiety. She tried to relax, but the look on the sheriff’s face didn’t help matters. He was studying her like she was an art exhibit.

  Baxter jumped down from his saddle and came close to her, holding out one hand. “Actually, dear, it is about Jonah, but we’re not looking for him. We found him. He’s dead. In his home.”

  Melissa’s skin lit up with chills as she heard a gasp come from Theresa. She felt like she’d been punched. Flashes of memory from when she and Jonah had been getting along, when they were first in love, when they decided to marry, flew through her mind.

  Yet, no tears came to her eyes. The good memories were followed by the bad ones, the more recent ones, and she clenched her jaw shut.

  “Was it the drink?” she asked in a softer voice than she’d expected. Theresa’s hand on her shoulder squeezed comfortingly.

  Baxter shook his head. “Looks like he was hit with something. On purpose.”

  The shock was making Melissa feel numb. “He was murdered?”

  Baxter didn’t respond out loud. He simply nodded, a solemn look on his face.

  “I don’t believe this,” Melissa said softly, dropping her eyes to the ground. “I guess I do believe it. I mean, this is what you’re telling me. But… I just…” She shook her head, turning to Theresa.

  “You weren’t going to marry him, were you?”

  It was the sheriff who spoke that time. He was just getting down from his horse when she turned to stare at him.

  “No,” she replied firmly. “I am not… I was not planning to marry him. I had broken it off. I did so the day I came into the jailhouse and bailed him out.”

  “I remember him b
eing pretty upset that day,” the sheriff continued. “He was screaming like crazy.”

  Melissa stared at Sheriff Knox as he came closer. Exactly what was he implying? It certainly seemed to Melissa like he was leading the conversation somewhere. She tilted her head to the side.

  “I’m sure he was. I was doing my best to ignore him, as I recall.”

  “Were you able to keep ignoring him?”

  Melissa blinked at the man.

  “What are you saying?” she asked in a voice so soft she was sure he barely heard her.

  “I’m not saying anything,” Sheriff Knox continued. She didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice, regardless of what he was saying. “I’m just asking you questions. Were you able to keep ignoring him?”

  Melissa let her jaw go slack and lowered her eyelids, looking out at him from under them. “Yes. I was. I haven’t seen him in a long time. You seem to think I would have the strength and the composure to murder someone and then act shocked when I find out. Is that what you think of me, sir? Well, you don’t know me, do you? You don’t know me at all.”

  Melissa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Knox’s attractiveness wasn’t enough to justify him treating her like a murderer.

  She folded her arms over her chest and turned away from him.

  “It’s just a few questions,” Knox asserted, reaching out to stop her from leaving. “If you don’t have anything to hide, you shouldn’t be worried. Besides, I wasn’t saying I thought you were the guilty party. I just have to ask questions so I can find out who did.”

  Melissa didn’t care for his excuses. As far as she was concerned, the fact that he could even consider her as a suspect was offensive. She lifted her chin in the air.

  “What questions do you have then?”

  Knox licked his lips, glancing at his deputy. Melissa had known Baxter for some time. She liked the deputy. She didn’t want any rifts placed in their friendship because of this new sheriff. Melissa had grown accustomed to feeling safe in her town because she could rely on the lawmen. This sheriff would have to get to know the people he was protecting if he planned to do a good job at it.