by Marja McGraw
My Annie’s mother, Judith, said she thought she heared heard somebody skulking outside there house the other night, but when William went outside with his rifle, no one was there. He said he figgered it was probly a varmint or some such thing.
My Annie is ninteen years old now, an this be our third year of mar marig bein married. We are thinkin it might be a good time for childrun of our own. A year ago I would not have given it any thought, because of the killins an all, but I think now is good. Mebbe I have quit bein careful enough, jist like the rest of the town.
So the sheriff and his Annie were thinking about starting a family. Maybe it was a good time. Since nothing else had happened, very possibly the killer had moved on. The sheriff could have been right about the murderer being the cowpoke who’d been passing through. At any rate, the town was settling down. Maybe I never would find out who the killer was.
Setting the book down, I picked up more pages from Ambrose’s manuscript. If nothing else, Wolf Creek had provided me with some interesting reading. Ambrose continued with his story of a San Francisco lunatic killing off women he thought were prostitutes.
At this stage of the book he took off in a different direction. He wrote some fluffy things about a man and woman going to a ball of some sort, and the killer watching them. He was probably the only writer I’ve ever read who could fluff up a stalker. It would have been laughable if it weren’t for the fact that I worried he was, in reality, writing about Wolf Creek.
I set the pages aside and wondered what was taking Pete so long. I waited another five minutes before walking toward the door to start a search for him. Bubba raced out the door before I could leave, and when I heard him bark I knew he’d seen Pete. Like many dogs, this one had a distinctive bark for different situations. This was his happy woof, so I knew it had to be that he’d found the man he was still trying to apologize to.
I sat down at the table again and waited for Pete. It didn’t seem he was in any hurry, so I walked out to the kitchen and started some water boiling for tea. We’d become quite adept at heating the cook stove, and it was even easier when not all of the embers had died out. That was the case this time, thankfully.
“I found the cemetery,” Pete said, walking in the front door. “It’s really not very far from here. I didn’t stop to read tombstones, but the fact is there are still some there. Most of them have fallen down, though, and a few are broken.”
Something about his demeanor told me he wasn’t telling me the whole story. I’d wait. He’d tell me when he was ready. I knew it didn’t involve Cowboy Bob or he’d have come storming in the front door. But he was keeping something from me, and it had to do with the cemetery.
“Would you like a cup of hot tea?” I asked.
He raised his right eyebrow at me. I knew better – he was a coffee-or-nothing man when it came to caffeine.
“I’ll take that as a no. Let me drink my tea and then we can go take a look at the tombstones. How about something to eat? We haven’t had much today.”
“I think there might be two wieners left. Want me to barbeque them?”
“My mouth is watering already. Do we have any buns? I know we’ve finished the bread.”
“Yeah, there are two buns left. There’s a can of beans, too. Why don’t you heat those, and we’ll have franks and beans again. We should probably save the buns for breakfast. We can make some kind of toast with them.”
“Good thinking. We really need to take stock of what we have left. Actually, we should have taken some of Cowboy Bob’s food while we were there. He owes us.”
“That he does, which leads me to something else. While I was walking around, looking for the cemetery, I gave more thought to trying to talk to him. If I cover you from the trees, maybe you should try to talk to him. If he sees me, he’s probably going to fly off the handle. Since we both have guns, this would not be a good thing. Know what I mean?”
Maybe this was what he’d been holding back--the fact that he was going to let me become involved with the cowboy, without giving me an argument.
“We’ve got to do something. We’re running out of food. Besides, one more confrontation and I’m liable to shoot him.” Pete would never admit he couldn’t think of an alternative.
“I’m relieved to hear you say that.” And I was. “Somehow we’ve got to try to get through to him and make him understand we aren’t after his gold. We ended up here because we got lost, and that’s the whole story. Maybe when he watched us looking for clues to the old murders, he thought we were looking for his precious map.”
“Could be. In fact, that makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it.”
I walked over to the cabinet and found the last can of beans, and a can of peaches. Lunch might be light, but at least we’d be eating. Taking stock, I saw a can of Pinto beans and a can of diced tomatoes. I could make some chili without the chili or meat in it. In other words, I could make beans with tomatoes. At least I had some salt, pepper and garlic I could add.
“The wieners are down at the creek. I’ll start the barbeque before I go get them,” Pete said, leaving the room and walking outside.
I had a new gut feeling, and it was that we were going to get to leave Wolf Creek soon. I couldn’t explain it, but I had the feeling the cowboy didn’t really want to do us any harm. I hoped I was right. But looking back, he’d had plenty of opportunity to shoot us, or hurt us in some other way. He certainly had some kind of connection to Wolf Creek, or how would he have known about the map or the gold? My suspicion was that his connection was to Daniel Mack. After all, he was staying in Mack’s cabin, and he knew there was a map, which was also in the cabin. Either he was a relative or he’d read something about Mack and his gold somewhere.
Over the years, a lot of people had spent time and money looking for the Lost Dutchman Mine in Arizona. Maybe Daniel Mack had made a discovery that never went past his family. Otherwise those same people who searched for the Lost Dutchman Mine would probably have overrun Wolf Creek by now. Things were beginning to add up in my mind, at least where the cowboy was concerned.
While I waited for Pete, I picked up the sheriff’s records again.
The town picnic is jist a cupple of days away, and the town is reddy ready for it. We all need a distraction from the last year or so. My Annie was the one who thought up the idear. She says she remembers picnics from when she was a youngun livin in a big town. To this day, I am still surprised her an her parents decided to settle here.
My Annie has been actin sort of off the last days. I find her smiling at nothing, an when she looks at me she smiles even bigger. I do not know what is in her mind, but I sure belive it is something good. Certain times she looks like she wants to say somethin to me, but then she turns an walks away. She will tell me in her own time. I seen her prayin more than is usual, too. Her belly seems to be ailin her jist a bit, but it passes an then she is smilin agin. Jist as long as she looks happy, I aint gonna shake the barrel an ask questions.
Annie is nineteen years now, and on Sunday we will celbrate our weddin day. I still can’t belive we have been wed for nigh on three years. My woman is such a litle bit of a thing, not much bigger than the childrun she teaches. An when she takes her hair down at night, it is so long an so black like. Not all black, but close to it. She is the first gurl I have seen that has the dark hair with such blue eyes. It almost startles me when I see those eyes. Listen to me. This is sheriff’s notes, an here I am goin on about Annie. Iffin someone was to read this, they would think I had gone soft in my head.
The ladys in town are cookin up a storm, makin foodstuffs for the picnic. The childrun are thinkin up games a body can play. Annie’s mother and father are tellin the childrun about games they did at the big city picnic. The fellers are thinkin about playin horseshoes. Annie’s father tole them about this game of tossin shoes from horses and makin points for where it lands. People think of the darndest things to do. I do not think there is a need for a sheriff or a barber that day, bu
t I have been aksed to oversee the day. I feel right proud to be aksed.
Looks like we might have a spot of rain. I am hopin that the sky will cleer before the picnic.
It sounded like Annie had a secret, and I had a feeling that I knew what it was. If I were to guess, I’d say that little Annie was probably going to have a baby. I wondered if she’d seen the doctor, or if in those days they just waited until their monthly periods went away to figure it out. Although the sheriff hadn’t been well educated, I don’t think she could have found any other man who cared for her as much as Sheriff Croft did. I couldn’t remember the sheriff’s first name, so I checked my notes. His name was Joseph Croft. The name Joseph made me think of someone who was strong of personality and soul, and who would live life being fair and humble. I shook my head, wondering where those thoughts had come from – probably from the notes the man had left.
I stirred the beans and suddenly had a mental picture of Annie in my head. I wondered what the sheriff had looked like. Could there be a photo of the couple somewhere? I’d have to search. Maybe the Meltons had one at their house or in the store.
Chapter Twenty-five
Pete barbequed our franks and we ate them with the beans. The canned peaches were dessert. After eating, we thought we’d take off for Cowboy Bob’s cabin. I was sure he’d had time to calm down, and I didn’t want to wait. We’d been in Wolf Creek for several days. It had been a long week, although I had to admit that for the most part I’d enjoyed myself. However, it was time to move on.
I’d been rationing out my chocolate bar and thought about eating another bite. I longed for it, but decided I’d wait until evening. There was no telling how long it would have to last. Sighing, I headed for the door, ready for a confrontation with the cowboy. I knew it had to be done, and I sincerely hoped I was wrong about it being a confrontation.
Walking through town, I made plenty of noise and tried to draw attention to myself. Bubba followed a short distance behind me, and eventually moved forward to walk beside me. I whistled, sang and generally made noise. I stopped singing when the dog woofed at me. My suspicion was that if he’d been a person he would have covered his ears. I’m known for singing off key and too loud on the rare occasions I make music.
Pete quietly headed toward the cabin, but he walked behind the blacksmith’s shop and the doctor’s office. He did everything he could not to be seen or heard. I hoped our plan would work. He was going to wait behind the last house. Once he saw me reach the top of the incline, he’d race up and watch through the trees. Hopefully, all of the cowboy’s attention would be on me.
All our planning was for naught. The cowboy wasn’t at the cabin. I’d boldly walked up to the rough wooden door and knocked. When there was no answer, I knocked a second time, but I knew it was useless. The door was closed and when I looked around, I realized the horse was gone, too. I figured Cowboy Bob must be out trying to follow the directions in which the new map would lead him.
It felt so anticlimactic and frustrating. I was ready for a showdown of some type. I reminded myself that things usually happen for a reason, and wondered if maybe the cowboy was still in a snit about what happened at the sheriff’s house. It might be best that he wasn’t at the cabin.
Turning back toward the trees, I could see Pete clear as day. He’d have to find a different spot to hide when we returned. Yes, sometimes things really did happen for a reason. I wiggled my fingers at him and he stepped out of the trees, realizing I could see him. Since we were alone, we looked around for a better hiding place. There were some thick bushes closer to the cabin, and although it might be tricky, he’d try to work his way over to them and hide there. If he climbed up the incline farther down, he might be okay.
“What now?” he asked, walking back toward the incline.
“That’s becoming your favorite question. Isn’t there something you’d like to do for a change?”
“Now that you mention it, I’d still like to take a look at that old saloon, or go fishing again.”
“Me, too, but I’d also like to see the doctor’s house.” I paused and thought about my reply. “That is, I’d like to see the saloon. The fishing? I can take it or leave it. Maybe the doctor left some paperwork or something behind. Why don’t you go check out the saloon while I visit the doctor’s place? I’d also like to look at the Melton home. Maybe there’s photo of Annie and the sheriff.”
Pete looked resigned. “No, I’ll go to the doctor’s house with you and we’ll save the saloon for tomorrow morning, right after we talk to the cowboy. It’s getting late, and by the time we look at the house the sun will be going down.”
“Okay. I honestly didn’t mean to stop you from looking at the saloon, or from going fishing. I have a feeling we’re going to be able to leave soon, and I want to try to figure out who the killer was before we drive away from this town.”
“I know.” He was such a good sport about things.
I touched his arm and he stopped and turned toward me. I reached up and put my hands on his cheeks before giving him a kiss. “I love you, Pete. You know, on second thought let’s go break into the saloon.”
“You do know how to get to me,” he said, “but this time let’s do it your way.”
“All it takes is a kiss?”
“No, just the fact that you care.” Pete had been married when he was young. The marriage didn’t last long. His wife hadn’t liked the fact that he was a cop. She worried wouldn’t come home some night, and instead of trying to work things out, she divorced him and married a safe doctor. Pete had once told me that he didn’t believe she’d really cared about him, but she was afraid of being left alone if something happened to him. He never mentioned it again.
When we reached the bottom of the hill, he took hold my hand and we headed for the doctor’s house. I didn’t really expect to find much. I figured that as a doctor he’d probably taken all of his things with him when he’d left. Medical instruments didn’t grow on trees, and I couldn’t imagine him leaving anything behind. Still, he had left some things in his office.
While we walked, I told Pete about Annie probably being pregnant.
“Sandi, you’re beginning to sound like you’re talking about friends.”
“In a way, I guess I am. I’ve read so much about her in the sheriff’s records that I almost feel like I know her. I can even describe her. She was very small, even by the standards of the 1880s, and she had almost black hair, probably about the color of yours. But she had blue eyes, and Sheriff Croft said he’d never seen eyes like hers before. He was obviously very much in love with Annie, and she was young. He married her when she was sixteen.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he writes about celebrating their third anniversary, and he mentions she was nineteen at the time.”
We reached town quickly, or at least it seemed that way. The doctor lived between the Stanton home and the Ambrose house, behind his office. His house was boarded up, like most of the others. The door was stuck pretty tight, but Pete was able to pull boards off the window easily, because the doctor hadn’t taken as much care when he’d left as some others had. He climbed through a window and helped me follow behind.
I stood just inside the room and surveyed my surroundings. It appeared everything had been left. If it weren’t for the fact that the doctor’s possessions were worn with age and dusty, it would have looked like he just stepped out to deliver a baby or something. It was a one-bedroom house, and I decided to start searching that room first. The door was closed, and it screeched when I forced it open.
Inside the room I found everything as the doctor had apparently left it. I opened the wardrobe and it was filled with a man’s clothing. Doc appeared to have been the local male fashion plate, not lacking for something fresh to wear each day. There were two pairs of extra shoes sitting in the bottom of the cabinet, too.
I turned and glanced at the rest of the room. There was an old suitcase sitting on the bed. Over the year
s it had deteriorated, but not as much as one would expect. So the doctor had planned on taking his personal items with him, but apparently something had stopped him. What on earth could have happened in this town? People leaving their things behind, from clothing to furniture to valuables. Ambrose had left his manuscript, and Sheriff Croft had hidden his records. It just didn’t feel right. The doctor had been ready to pack, but hadn’t done it.
“Pete, come on in here,” I called.
“What is it? Did you find something?” He stuck his head through the open doorway.
“Look at this. Once again, we have someone who left everything behind. He didn’t even take his clothes, but it looks like he was about to start packing. What do you make of this?”
“I don’t know, but it concerns me. It’s like people were frightened. Maybe we’re too stupid to know that we should be, too.”
“I wonder if there could have been some fast-spreading disease. Or maybe little green men from Mars put in an appearance and beamed everyone up to their ship.”
He gave me one of his get real looks.
“I was only joking,” I said, “at least about the little green men. But there could have been a disease or something like that.”
He scratched his arm. “I hope not. I’d hate to catch something here in this Godforsaken place.” He glanced around the room before speaking again. “No, if there was a disease here and the germs lingered, the cowboy would be sick. Besides, I don’t think germs would last for over a hundred years.”
I shrugged my shoulders and headed for the chest of drawers. “Maybe there’s something in here.”
Pete joined me and started opening drawers. We didn’t find anything of interest, so we returned to the living room and kitchen area.
“I feel like I’m in a time warp or something.” I glanced around the room at the doctor’s belongings. Maybe there really were little green men. Yeah, right.
