Dead Man's Hand (Caden Chronicles, The)

by Eddie Jones

  “Spend enough time studying people like I have and you become a pretty good judge of character. Get a gauge on how they’ll react. Bill wasn’t going to play nice. Sure I could’ve given him a cut, but I knew he’d want a bigger slice and would keep on threatening me until I gave him a larger share. Pretty soon it would’ve been me doing all the work and Bill living high. Just like it’s always been for me. Wasn’t going to be that way, not this time. Don’t think about going for that knife, boy. You’ll never make it.”

  I froze. I could feel my palms perspiring and nervous sweat trickling down my sides. Licking dry lips I said, “One question. Why put that note in my backpack?”

  “You don’t know? I thought you were the boy-wonder detective and knew everything. I needed to throw you off, make you think there was a body buried on Boot Hill. Otherwise you might have kept looking.”

  “So you shot a bear? Isn’t that … overkill?”

  “That one’s been getting after the cattle and scaring the horses. Was a nuisance. Like you. Marshal wanted me to trap it and let the wildlife folks haul it away. But when you showed up, I got another idea. Turns out a right good one too, judging from the reaction in the graveyard this morning.”

  “So when you came at us with the shovel the other night, that was just to scare us and get Annie to keep quiet.”

  “You wouldn’t shut up about Bill being murdered. Kept the marshal all in a snit about that.”

  “So after you shot Bell and put his body in the trunk of the Charger …”

  Garrett grunted.

  “It’s okay to say it, Deputy Garrett. Confession is good for the soul. Least that’s what I hear.”

  “Thought you’d found Bill’s body for sure,” said Garrett, sidestepping my suggestion. “Especially when I heard you were poking around in the employee parking lot. Guess I caught a break there.”

  “Wish I’d figured it out sooner. I knew something in that car stank, but I didn’t make the connection until I caught a whiff of that carcass this morning. I hadn’t been absolutely sure it was you who killed Bell until you pointed out the fresh grave. Only you would have known where you buried that bear. And there wouldn’t have been any reason to dig a fresh grave and throw me off your trail, like you said. Thanks for confirming what I already knew, Deputy.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “Oh, but I do. You want to know how I know? Because I’ve seen the same scenario played out countless times on cop shows. The last was on Over My Dead Body … and Beyond. In that one a disgruntled employee at a mini-storage business finds several boxes of old letters in one of the units. He starts peeling off the stamps and selling them to collectors. When a coworker finds out, he threatens to tell the owner. After all, tampering with mail is a federal offense. The coworker ends up dead. Near the end of the show the body of a second worker is found—the one the lead investigator thought was the real thief. Took me a while to lay the facts of this case over all the shows I’ve seen, but I figured it out last night in my room.

  “Just ‘cause you see something on TV doesn’t mean it’s real,” Garrett sneered. “You want to know what’s real? This is.”

  He pressed the barrel so hard against Annie’s head that she let out a tiny squeak.

  “Annie, don’t worry. He’s not going to shoot you.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  “Oh, I’m certain of it. And I’ll tell you why in a minute. But first, I want to go back to what you just said about what’s real and not. Let’s start with the evidence in this case. The fact is there were only three people who had access to the hayloft that evening. You, the marshal, and Dallas Joshua James. We know what happened to James, so that rules him out as the killer—just like in the TV show. The marshal might have benefited from Bell’s death, except he’s not that stupid. The loan Bell made to Buckleberry would have tipped off the authorities and made the marshal the prime suspect. That leaves you.”

  “You’re forgetting the old security guard.”

  “No, he didn’t fit the TV plot. But more than that, the fact that you hinted he might have a reason to kill Bell proved he didn’t do it. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just kill Bell up here and toss his body into the gulch.”

  “And what? Have folks say the last time they saw Bill Bell alive was when he was riding up to Rattlesnake Gulch to see Deputy Garrett? No, folks needed to see Bill leave for the airport.”

  “How did you lure him into the barn?”

  “Boy, I swear. If you don’t stop moving toward that knife, I’m going to put a bullet in her shoulder socket. Be a mighty painful way to bleed out.”

  Annie began to sob. I gave up all hope of reaching the knife.

  “I faked a call from that movie producer’s assistant to get Bill to think he’d landed that part,” Garrett said confidently. “Bill bragged to a few people at the canteen that he was heading to Hollywood. I asked him to meet me in Lazy Jack’s. Told him there was a problem with one of the projectors, and I needed him to take a look before he left for the big lights. Bill always thought and acted like he knew more about the theatrical equipment than the rest of us. I played to his ego and it worked. The idea was to pop him and dump his body later in a place where the critters would find it.”

  “But then James arrived,” I offered.

  “Pulled right into that barn in his sporty Dodge Charger like he owned the place. Surprised he didn’t hear the gunshot. Might have too, if that car of his wasn’t so blasted loud. I hid behind the bales of hay, watching. He looked around for Earp’s gun and didn’t find it. ‘Course, that’s ‘cause I had it. Instead of driving to the employee lot, he just left the car in the barn with the keys in the ignition. He did that a lot. Later he’d pay one of the hands a few bucks to park it for him. Gave me the perfect place to dump the body.”

  “So you knew about James phoning Mr. Earp and asking to borrow his Schofield?”

  “Of course I knew. That wasn’t the first time James had needed to borrow the gun. That old codger always hung it on the same peg in the first stall. I figured if someone did find the revolver they would pin the murder on either Earp or James but not me.”

  “But I showed up.”

  “Bad timing for me, but it’s all going to work out.”

  “I know you used an IP-spoofing program to route the calls to a phone-tree program and dial the marshal at set times to make it appear that Bill Bell was in Los Angeles, but how did you clone Bell’s voice?”

  “One of the things a mall cop has is lots of time on his hands. I got pretty good at chatting up the tech guys at the wireless store. They showed me some neat ways to hack into a person’s voice mail and download their calls. Strung together a few audio files with Bill’s words from his voice mail greeting. Not too hard if you know what you’re doing—which I did.”

  I broke eye contact with Garrett and gave Annie a sympathetic look. “Sorry I had to trick you into helping me, but I couldn’t think of any other way to make sure he’d follow you up here.”

  Her face twisted with confusion. “What … do you mean, tricked me?”

  “In the blacksmith shop. I knew you’d probably check with the coroner to see if what I said was true about James being hit on the head. Once the coroner confirmed it,” I said to Annie, “your only chance of staying alive was to find your uncle and tell him everything, including how you’d seen Deputy Garrett in the graveyard that night and how someone, probably the deputy, clubbed you on the head as a warning to keep quiet.”

  “I did talk to my uncle before I went to the mine. How’d you …”

  Her look of bewilderment was replaced by anger. “You tricked me!”

  “Sorry, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed him to confess.” I moved my hand to my jacket pocket. “Don’t shoot,” I told Garrett. “I want to get this digital recorder out to check and make sure it recorded everything.”

  I hit the rewind button and played a short segment. The quality of the recording was ex
cellent.

  I took a tentative step toward Annie.

  “Stop right there.”

  “It’s over, Deputy.” Keeping my eyes on the gun, I moved closer.

  “I’m warning you, boy.”

  “Question is, which of us do you shoot first? Annie or me?” Another step. “Try for me and she’ll go for the knife. Might get it, too. And if she’s as good with a blade as she is with Mr. Earp’s Schofield …”

  I took another step.

  Garrett swung the gun away from Annie’s head and fired at me. I couldn’t help but jump. But I didn’t fall back, nor did I clutch my chest as the farmer had. Instead I simply shook my head while trying to clear the ringing in my ears. A puzzled look contorted Garrett’s face. He must’ve been wondering how he could have missed at such a close range when the door behind me burst open and Wyatt Earp entered.

  Aiming his shotgun at Garrett, Mr. Earp tossed me a pair of plastic handcuffs and said, “Deputy Caden, would you mind doing the honors?”

  Garrett, still eyeing the smoking gun in disbelief, made no attempt to resist.

  “Deputy Garrett, you of all people should know to inspect your weapon before heading out into the field,” I said, picking up the gun. “Especially in a ghost town that uses blanks for bullets.”

  I handed the Glock to Earp. “I believe this is how the ghost gunfights work, is it not?”

  Earp smiled. I took Annie by the arm and helped her up. “Thanks for wanting to keep an eye on me,” I said, thumbing back a strand of her hair.

  “Now let’s go get Billy the Kid’s body out of that car.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ONE HERO FOR A DAY

  Marshal Buckleberry found Billy the Kid’s body in the trunk of the Charger. Pat Garrett was charged with two counts of first-degree murder, one count of killing a bear, one count of attempted murder (me), kidnapping, and assault with a deadly weapon. Other charges remained pending. For the remainder of the week, I was the hero of Deadwood. No need to call the media. As soon as the sheriff radioed that Bill Bell’s body had been found, the journalists wheeled around and raced back. Had Buckleberry spent a hundred grand with a media firm, he could not have received better advertising.

  BILLY THE KID AND JESSE JAMES GUNNED DOWN IN DEADWOOD. COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINER CALLS KILLING, “WORSE THAN THE SHOOTOUT AT O.K. CORRAL.”

  The Santa Rosa Gazette featured my picture on the front page. The local NBC affiliate ran my interview on the home page of their website. The editor of Cool Ghoul Magazine called the marshal and asked if he could interview the “ghost detective.” I told the marshal I’d have to think about it—that I might be busy with another murder case for a while.

  “What case?” Mom asked. We stood on the bottom of the bunkhouse steps passing Dad our luggage.

  “Yeah, Nick. What case?” my sister repeated.

  Annie arrived carrying a straw basket full of fruit, flowers, and vintage books. She presented the basket to my sister, adding, “Something to remember us by.”

  Wendy squealed with delight. “This is awesome! Dust and Diamond. I so love Donn Taylor’s poetry. Thanks, Annie.”

  “What about me?” I said. “Don’t I get something as a keepsake?”

  Annie peered into my eyes, her face softening. “Well … I was hoping to surprise you in the hayloft later. But since you asked.”

  She pulled my face close to hers and, pressing her cheek against mine, whispered, “I’ve been keeping a secret. My uncle never told me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Oh? Is that the gift?”

  She cupped my head in her hands, turned my face close to hers, and pulled me down, kissing me on the forehead like a small child. I couldn’t understand why until my eyes found the silver cross resting against her soft skin. She released me, unhooked the clasp, and placed the necklace around my neck.

  “Not for good luck,” she said quietly, “but for a good life.”

  She kissed me quickly on the lips and hurried off.

  “Wow. That was awkward,” my sister remarked. “Maybe you two should get a room.”

  “Wendy!”

  “Sorry, Mom. Just saying …”

  “Speaking of just saying,” Mom said curtly, “what’s this other case you think you’re investigating, son?”

  “We better hit the road,” I responded. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “It’s not that long, son.”

  “It might be if we have to go by way of Dallas.”

  “Dallas! What’s in Dallas?”

  “I phoned a professor at a divinity school down there. Said I was investigating the disappearance of a man named Jesus Christ, and I understood the body went missing and was never found. He said if I stopped by he’d be more than happy to go over the circumstances surrounding the man’s death with me.”

  “Mom,” Wendy bleated. “Make him stop. Please?”

  “Lots to see on the drive down,” Wyatt Earp piped up. “Got a haunted mansion in Denver, writers’ college in Colorado Springs, and a Cadillac ranch in Amarillo.”

  “Cadillac ranch? Then it’s settled,” said Dad. “Dallas it is.”

  “Frank!”

  “You know how I’ve always wanted a Caddy, hon.” Gesturing toward our waiting toaster car, Dad added, “saddle up and let’s ride.”

  LEGEND OF THE DEAD MAN’S HAND

  The dead man’s hand is a two-pair poker hand, namely “aces and eights.” This card combination gets its name from a legend that it was the hand held by Wild Bill Hickok when he was murdered on August 2, 1876, in Saloon No. 10 at Deadwood, South Dakota.

  The real town of Deadwood, South Dakota, is named for the dead trees found in its gulch. Deadwood was famous during the “wild west” for its lawless reputation, gunfights, and killings. Deadwood gained fame for the murder of Wild Bill Hickok, gunslinger and lawman. Jack McCall was found guilty of Hickok’s murder and hanged.

  FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION

  Questions written by Sarah Lynn Phillips

  1. Ghosts! Early in the book Nick said there was no such thing as a ghost. But as time went on, he wasn’t so sure. What do you think? What evidence supports your answer?

  2. Nick made the following statement: “Just because you believe in vampires, werewolves, and witches, doesn’t mean they’re real.” What do you think? How do you determine what’s real and what isn’t?

  3. Nick found a Bible that had stories of ghosts and other odd happenings highlighted in yellow. Take a closer look at these passages.

  • 1 Samuel 28:3-20 – A Midnight Meeting with a Dead Man

  • Matthew 14:22-33 – A Ghost Walking on Water?

  • Matthew 27:50-53 – Earthquake, Open Graves, Walking Dead

  4. What would you say if someone told you they saw a ghost?

  5. Jesus died, but three days later his tomb was found open and empty of all but the grave clothes (Luke 24:1-12). Do a little detective work with Nick. Investigate where he was seen. By whom? For how long?

  • Luke 24:13-16, 28-32, 36-43, 50-53

  • John 20:11-30; 21:1, 4-14

  • Acts 1:3

  6. Using the evidence found in Question 5, what clues can you find that show how Jesus appeared to be different after he died? How do these descriptions of a “dead Jesus” differ from how movies and books normally portray ghosts?

  7. Nick tells Mr. Earp, “My sister is sure she’s seen a ghost. She says when we die that’s it. No heaven or hell. We only end up wandering earth looking for our bodies.” Spy out other opinions about what happens when people die.

  • Jesus: John 14:1-3; Luke 23:39-43

  • Paul: 2 Corinthians 5:6-8; Philippians 1:23, 24

  8. Wyatt Earp never thought about heaven until his wife got sick. What causes people to think about life after death?

  9. Do the decisions we make now have consequences after we die? Check out the vision of John in Revelation 20:12.

  10. In Chapter 18, Mr. Earp told Nick, “Those lies we believe
about our lives are the real ghosts that haunt us …. Those whispering voices that tear us down and leave us feeling worthless and ugly. It’s those spooks you need to be worried about.” What are some secret “what-ifs, wish I hadn’t, and I’m not good enough” statements that bother you?

  CADEN CHRONICLES

  SKULL CREEK STAKEOUT

  BOOK TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  A CASE I CAN SINK MY TEETH INTO

  Death found me on a hot June morning in Walt Disney World’s Tower of Terror.

  Minutes before I heard about the vampire in Transylvania, North Carolina, I pulled the seat belt across my waist and showed my hands to the bellhop. Behind me buckles snapped shut; arms shot up. The smiling service attendant in his maroon and gold cap bid us a pleasant stay at the Hollywood Hotel and retreated into the boiler room. Service doors sealed us inside, and the elevator yanked us up.

  The young boy seated next to me whispered to his mom, “Why did he make us raise our hands?”

  “So when they snap our picture it looks like we’re having fun.”

  “And to prove you’re not holding anything in your hand,” I offered. “See, if you place a penny on your palm, like this, when the car drops the coin will—”

  “Don’t you dare try that, Grayson!” said the boy’s mom, glaring at me.

  I shoved the penny back in my pocket and muttered, “Wasn’t suggesting he do it. Just saying that’s why they make you put your hands up.”

  The car stopped on the thirteenth floor. Doors opened. Our elevator car rumbled down a darkened hallway, and the theme song from the Twilight Zone began playing through headrest speakers. A short ways in front, Rod Serling magically appeared, warning riders: “You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension—a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You’ve just crossed over into … (dramatic pause) … the Twilight Zone.”