by Marja McGraw
I picked up the 1881 record book and turned to the last entry again. I reread it and flipped through the blank pages, only to find that there was one last entry at the back of the book. The handwriting had reverted back to being legible.
Wolf Creek is empty now. Everone has left, even them that waited and took there things with them.
After I kilt Doc, I boarded up the saloon, with him in it. I aint wantin no one to enter in that place agin. I think that mebbe litle Olga found my Annie an when she turned around she saw Doc walkin away. Her scaredness probly took over her mind an she thought she saw a monster, an she come back an scared the whole town.
The town folk surprised me and never spoke of what I done, that is the ones who were still around.
I went down the mountain and got a gravestone for Annie and the babe. Preacher Wright did a right nice service for us. Annie’s ma and pa were pleased with his prayers an helped the preacher an his family move away later when they left. William said he did not blame me for not findin the killer sooner. He said Doc had us all fooled. I do not think he is right. I should have seen the Doc for what he reely was. Annie’s ma jist quit talkin. It was all too much for her.
So now I am leavin too. I do not want to leave my Annie here alone, but I can not stay longer.
If any person ever reads my records, my hope is that they will not think me a bad man. I did what I had to do. The women were kilt, but so was Doc. It is over.
Fate let me find out who the killer was in my own way. I’d always wonder where the anger came from that drove the doctor, but I guess it didn’t really matter in the long run. Yes, it was over.
I picked up what was left of my chocolate bar and finished it. Pete and I were going home.
Chapter Thirty-two
Pete and I left Wolf Creek the next morning. Before we left, I walked up to the cabin to leave what was left of Jake’s food. I knew he’d be needing it. He was already out searching for his gold, I assumed, so I left the food inside the cabin.
It struck me as I left the cabin that Jake Mack had come to Wolf Creek after his wife’s death. He needed a mission, and the gold filled that need. Joseph Croft had left Wolf Creek because of his wife’s death. It was just a passing thought, and I shook it off.
I knew as I walked toward the Croft house that it was time to let it all go. While the deaths were still fresh in my mind, I had to remember they’d happened over a hundred years ago.
Walking into the house, I discovered that Pete had already loaded all of our belongings into the Jeep. He was anxious to kick the dust from his feet and leave this town. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t see Bubba, so I figured he was either chasing one last rabbit or Pete had already loaded him into the Jeep, too.
I walked around the house and looked everything over before we left, making sure the fire in the stove was out and that we were leaving things pretty much as we’d found them. Everything looked right. Pete had even boarded up the windows again.
Turning, I found him standing in the doorway. “We had quite an adventure here.”
“Yes, we did. I won’t miss Wolf Creek, but I’ll never forget it either. Did you remember to pack the photos we found?”
“I did.”
“Good.”
We walked out the front door and Pete closed it firmly behind us. He nailed boards across the doorway.
~ * ~
We left Wolf Creek without a backward glance. The farther we drove, the more animated our conversation became. There was still a lot of joy in the world, and we planned to join the living.
The conversation turned to a wedding on our way toward my mother’s home – our wedding. I’d been telling Pete I wanted a long engagement, that I had oats to sow before we took the big leap. Pete was a patient man and he’d never pushed the point. I was the one who initiated the wedding conversation.
“How about November?” I asked.
“What about November?”
“Good month for a wedding, don’t you think?”
He smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
We were quiet for several miles after that.
“Did Annie and Joseph Croft have anything to do with your decision?” he asked. He’s a very smart man.
“They did. Why waste time being engaged? Who knows what the future holds? Let’s go for it.”
“Do we have to tell your mother anytime soon?” Pete knew how pushy my mother could be, and she usually prevailed when it came to, well, almost everything.
“Yeah, we do, but it’ll keep her busy, which is a good thing.”
~ * ~
We stopped in Bullhead City, Arizona, on our way back to Los Angeles, and stayed overnight with my mother and stepfather. Over dinner that night we told them the story of Wolf Creek. By the time we finished the tale, my mother had tears in her eyes. I guess we have more in common than I realized.
Mother had a lot to say about the gall of Cowboy Bob for stranding us in a ghost town, and she was really winding up for a snit when Pete told her about the wedding. I guess he was trying to head her off. Frank, my stepfather, appeared grateful for the diversion.
“Livvie, your daughter and I are getting married.”
“I know that,” Mother replied, “but let me say one more thing about that cowboy. He should – ”
“No, I mean in November. We – ”
“November! Why that’s only a few months away, and there’s so much to do.” And she was off and running, tossing her diatribe about the cowboy aside.
I almost kicked Pete under the table after clenching my teeth and sighing, but thought better of it. Like Frank, my stepfather, I was glad for the diversion.
Bubba received lots of attention after my mother calmed down. He rolled over onto his back and patiently let my mother examine his wound. He smiled his toothy smile at her the whole time she looked at him. She’d become used to this, and it didn’t unnerve her like it had at one time. She pronounced him healthy and put him out in the backyard.
~ * ~
We left Bullhead City early the next morning, after my mother served us a killer breakfast. She thought we both looked thinner than we had a week earlier.
We arrived back in Los Angeles and didn’t even think about going back into the office until after the weekend.
Pete called Stanley Hawks, our friend and employee, and let him know we were back if there was anything that absolutely couldn’t wait.
Stanley said he’d called my mother when we hadn’t checked in, but she’d said not to worry because we were camping and probably didn’t have cell phone reception. If she’d only known, she would have had several law enforcement agencies, local and state, out looking for us.
I laughed when Pete related his and Stanley’s conversation to me. “He’s right. She would have made a terrible stink.”
I spent the weekend searching the Internet, trying to find out anything I could about the people of Wolf Creek. I found more than I thought I would.
Joseph Croft moved to Los Angeles where he went back to school before becoming a P.I. He investigated murders and did his best to track down the bad guys. Talk about a small world. Who could have imagined I’d be following in his footsteps?
The Muellers developed a brewery and made a name for themselves in the beer industry. Their brewery is still in business, and the brand is one I’m familiar with, having tried it a few times.
Charles and Antoinette Ambrose moved to San Francisco where the doctor set up another practice. He was a success, although his wife left him for a gambler. He wrote a fictional book based on the Wolf Creek murders, and it had been popular. I decided I already knew everything I wanted to, and didn’t try to find a copy of his book.
I couldn’t find anything about William or Judith Melton. Maybe they started another store somewhere, but I’d never know. I felt fairly certain they spent a lifetime mourning their only daughter and grandchild. Before I knew what had happened to Annie, I’d wondered why they took their personal belongings and not the store s
upplies. I guess they just didn’t care anymore.
I found some information on the good Reverend Wright. He started a new church in Washington State, and he and his wife enlarged their family. Jonathan and Anna Wright had one more daughter and four sons. I’d try to contact any living relatives and return the jewels we’d found hidden in the old house to them.
Surprisingly, I found some information on Alvin Smith. With such a common name, the only reason I knew it was him was because he became a highly successful attorney and commented on his life in Wolf Creek. He frequently told his story about being the town drunk who found his salvation when he left.
I couldn’t find anything on any of the other residents of the small town. Frankly, I was surprised I found as many of them as I did.
~ * ~
On Monday, Pete and I returned to work. When I arrived at the office, Stanley and Felicity DuBois, my best friend and Stanley’s girlfriend, were waiting for us.
We repeated the entire story of Wolf Creek and Jake, and they were spellbound by the incident. I showed Stanley the sheriff’s records, the map of the town and the photo of Annie and Joseph Croft, along with the pictures of the ghost town. He was a computer nerd, and I thought maybe he could run down the preacher’s family for me, if any of them were still around.
“This is fascinating. I’ll start searching right away.” Stanley turned his chair back to his computer and began typing.
“Oh, and Pete and I are getting married in November,” I said, as casually as possible.
Felicity beamed. “Well, it’s about time. Let’s go look at wedding dresses this afternoon. I know this adorable dress shop, and they have absolutely the best selection. They’ll give you a discount, too, because I’ve modeled for them in the past.” That was my friend, the hand model. Well, to be fair, she mostly modeled jewelry, but many times they photographed her sitting and wearing jewels that complemented the clothing. Occasionally she posed for make-up ads, too.
“Wanna see the jewelry Anna Wright was hiding?” I asked.
By the time we’d finished examining all the things I’d brought back from Wolf Creek, Stanley had found descendants of the Wrights. He was good at what he did.
I didn’t waste time and found a phone number to call. I reached someone named Benjamin King, and explained who I was and what I wanted, after confirming that his grandmother had been Olga Wright.
“You know, Miss Webster, there was a family legend about the jewelry, but none of us ever believed it. My Grandma Olga swore it was true, because she’d seen the jewelry one time. I can’t believe they’ve been found.”
We talked for a few more minutes, I asked for his address and we hung up.
“I guess that’s the last of it. Now things can get back to normal and we can forget about Wolf Creek.”
Pete walked over to my desk and looked into my eyes. “You’ll never forget Wolf Creek, Sandi, and I wouldn’t want you to.”
My heart melted for this man who knew me so well, and I smiled up at him.
Picking up the photo of Joseph and Annie, I set it on the bookshelf behind my desk.
~ * ~
Over the next week, I found time to go through all of the papers we’d taken from Dr. Jackson Summers’ office and home.
I had difficulty dealing with the fact that Doc had prepared the death certificates for the very women he’d murdered. He must have had a cold heart.
Eventually I found an envelope containing personal papers belonging to Summers. Among them was a story from a newspaper.
Mrs. Jennifer Summers had been stabbed to death by her son, Jackson. During the trial it came out that his mother had beaten him mercilessly as a child, over every little infraction. From the sounds of it, she may have had mental problems. Relatives stated that her husband had left her, and they felt she might have been taking out her anger on her son. As a teenager, he’d fled the house and worked at odd jobs to support himself, avoiding his mother as much as possible.
He entered medical school with the help of a man he worked for, but had to leave when his mother feigned illness and he was forced to take care of her.
According to testimony, he awoke one night to find her standing over his bed with a knife, screaming at him that he’d ruined her life, saying his father’s leaving had been his fault. She stabbed him in the arm as he turned away from her. Jackson fought with her, and after wrenching the knife out of her hands, he stabbed her repeatedly, finally having had his fill and all the years of his anger catching up to him.
While he was being transported to prison, there was an accident and he escaped. He was never found.
Too bad the authorities didn’t know about Wolf Creek. Annie and the others might have lived to a ripe old age. But what happens in ghost towns, stays in ghost towns.
