Where There's a Will

by Brenda Sinclair

Willow held her breath waiting for the man’s answer.

  “Yes, I did. Pearson raged about being the black sheep while Hartley had been the golden boy and been given opportunities that Clarence felt should have been his in equal measure.” Braymore threw up his hands. “I hadn’t a clue about any of it. I never grew up in Cactus Plains. I knew nothing of the history between Hartley and Clarence, but apparently, they’d been raised as brothers and one day there’d been a falling out of favor and their grandfather sent Clarence packing.”

  “What falling out?” Leonard leaned forward in his seat.

  “Clarence told me his father believed he’d shown too much interest in Hartley’s wife despite the fact she’d decidedly spurned his attentions. But Mitchell Harrison was furious with Clarence for showing such disrespect to his brother and banned Clarence from the ranch, completely disowning him. Hartley didn’t assume ownership until Mitchell passed, so your grandfather had final say at the time as to who lived on the Circle H and who didn’t.”

  “That would cause a riff in the family for sure,” Sawyer chimed in. “It would explain the rather drastic measure your grandfather took against Clarence though, knowing what he’d attempted.”

  “I’d wager Hartley agreed with their father’s decision.” Braymore shrugged. “Pearson never forgot nor forgave the snub.”

  Judge Bailey cleared his throat and stared at Braymore. “And because of this arrangement you concocted with Pearson, you fabricated this forgery but didn’t notice the absence of a period after the man’s initial?”

  Braymore shook his head. “I guess not. Pearson demanded I prepare a forgery and destroy the original, which I refused to do. Of course, I didn’t tell Pearson that. I feared the day might come when our crime was discovered. I practiced Harrison’s signature for days before I signed the forgery, but I never noticed the oddity about the middle initial. Who doesn’t put a period behind an initial?”

  “Apparently, Mr. Hartley M Harrison,” the judge scoffed. “James, please take Mr. Braymore into the next room while we settle this matter. And send for the sheriff to place him under arrest. We’ll deal with his legal improprieties at a future date.”

  “But your honor, you assured me you’d—”

  “I didn’t assure you of anything, Mr. Braymore. I only suggested it would be in your best interests to co-operate. You’ll be punished for your deceptions regarding the will and your attempt on Mr. Pearson’s life.” The judge nodded at the clerk.

  Braymore’s face paled. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t meet with Pearson at the ranch. And I certainly didn’t shoot him or commit any robbery.”

  Daniel produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere on his person. The clerk slapped them on Braymore before he firmly gripped his arm.

  “Thank you, Agent McLennon.” The judge waved his hand. “If it wasn’t you, Braymore, then who do you suppose attempted to murder Clarence Pearson?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest notion. But it certainly wasn’t me,” Braymore blustered as he was escorted out of the room.

  “Judging by his expression, your honor, I tend to believe him.” Daniel shook his head. “I don’t think he’s to blame for what happened at the ranch. And I’ve been giving the situation a lot of thought. I believe I may have an idea about that, but I’m not prepared to make an arrest just yet.”

  “Very well, Agent McLennon. Everyone, please take your seats again while we settle the issues with the will.” The room quieted as everyone settled onto a chair. “Have you anything to add?”

  “Thank you, sir.” Daniel stood.

  Willow and the others listened as he further summarized the situation, including the misunderstanding about their uncle’s supposed death and the robbery.

  “I trust you’ll handle the matter with fairness and swift justice. It is my opinion and that of my superiors at the Pinkerton Agency that the Harrison children have suffered enough from the injustice bestowed upon them,” Daniel concluded.

  “Twenty minutes please, Agent McLennon. I’m going to study these documents for a few minutes and then I’ll meet you in the courtroom to render my official decision from the bench.” The judge picked up a paper and studied it while everyone removed themselves from the judge’s chambers and gathered in the hallway.

  Daniel blew out his breath. “Well, I hadn’t expected Braymore to confess his reasons, but it makes sense that he’d do anything to protect his family.”

  “At least he had the decency to file away that original will and not destroy it,” Leonard observed.

  “I can almost sympathy with him. Almost,” Willow added.

  “Let’s take a seat in the courtroom and wait for the judge’s ruling,” Sawyer suggested, guiding everyone down the hallway.

  A half hour later, Willow required every bit of restraint she could muster to keep herself from leaping for joy. The judge read aloud in court the last will of Hartley Mitchell Harrison in its entirety and Leonard was granted ownership of the Circle H. She couldn’t be happier for her brother. The judge’s gavel pronounced the matter complete and binding. Decision final. Matter of the estate closed.

  “I hereby order the preparation of a warrant for the arrest of Clarence Pearson,” Judge Bailey declared before stepping down from the bench and heading for his chambers.

  Willow hoped Clarence Pearson would rot in jail for a long time. She gazed heavenward and smiled, hoping her parents were together and looking down at her and Leonard and knowing justice had finally been meted out.

  “Are you ready to go?” Adam whispered.

  She met his eyes. “Yes, I am.” She slipped her hand around his arm and allowed him to escort her from the courtroom.

  Daniel held the door for everyone as they filed out. “I hope they find Pearson, now that there’s a warrant for his arrest.”

  “The authorities better find him before I do. I’ll rip him limb from limb,” Leonard blurted.

  Willow grabbed his arm. “Don’t even think such a thing. You’ll just find yourself in trouble and who will run the ranch with you in jail?”

  “She’s right, Leonard.” Daniel set his hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let the authorities handle him, and trust the courts will do their job.”

  “Braymore will be jailed, but the judge might take into consideration he didn’t destroy the original will,” Sawyer noted.

  Daniel nodded. “Braymore will serve some time behind bars and probably lose his law practice also.”

  “You’re right. I’ll trust the courts will see justice is done. At least, the Harrisons have the ranch back, and hopefully, our names will soon be cleared of all wrongdoing. Daniel will find the culprit who shot Pearson. I’m certain of it. This calls for a celebration.” Leonard beamed. “How about supper at the hotel? My treat?”

  Daniel and Sawyer seconded the idea immediately, and everyone walked out of the courthouse, agreeing the day couldn’t have gone better.

  Willow couldn’t agree more either. Finally, her life was her own again. The family ranch would be saved, operated in her brother’s capable hands. The ranch employees’ jobs were secure and everyone’s future had brightened. Including hers.

  Chapter 29

  Three nights later, Adam followed Daniel and Leonard toward the Circle H bunkhouse with Red on their heels. Adam’s timepiece indicated seven o’clock and he figured most of the ranch hands would be turning in for the night in another hour. Daniel wore his suit and bowler, and he removed his Pinkerton badge from an inside pocket.

  “What are you up to?” Adam said, accusingly.

  “You’ll see.” Daniel yanked open the door and waved the other three men inside before following and closing the door behind himself.

  A cloud of cigar smoke hovered in the air and burned Adam’s eyes, and the stench of unwashed bodies met his nose. A mouse scurried across the floor and disappeared through a hole in the wall. Adam made a mental note to remind Leonard to bring a couple mousetraps out here tomorrow.

  Holding up his badge, Dan
iel cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, may I have your attention for a few minutes.” His voice boomed throughout the room.

  Every head turned toward the speaker. Chairs scraped the plank floor as men deserted their poker hands and pushed away from a large round table. Several ranch hands moved toward their bunks, their booted feet shuffling across the floor. A collection of worried expressions met Leonard’s eyes.

  “Boss, what’s goin’ on?” one grizzled old fellow demanded of Leonard.

  He shrugged, also having no idea what the Pinkerton had in mind.

  Daniel gazed around the room, meeting eyes with every man there. Adam couldn’t guess at his brother’s intention.

  “This will only take a few minutes of your time,” Leonard assured his men.

  “Then you can return to your game or your whittling or whatever you were doing,” Red added.

  “What does the Pink want with us?” another man ventured. “We ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

  “Who said anyone did something wrong?” Red replied.

  The fellow shook his head and muttered, “Come bargin’ in here, near to frightenin’ everyone to death.”

  “Just folded the best hand I had all night,” another man grumbled, standing with his arms folded over his chest, glowering at Daniel.

  Adam stood hands on hips. “I’m certain my brother will explain himself in due time.” He met eyes with Daniel and then gazed around the room. Most of the men appeared confused by their sudden arrival, but Adam noticed one of the ranch hands appeared particularly annoyed and shifted from one foot to the other as his gazed darted from Daniel to Red and back to the Pinkerton again. The fellow’s obvious nervousness set off an alarm in Adam’s mind and he’d bet anything the man had something to hide.

  “For those of you I haven’t formally been introduced to, my name is Daniel McLennon and I’m a detective with the Pinkerton Agency. I’ve been hired to assist the local Texas lawmen in solving the case surrounding the attempted murder of Mr. Clarence Pearson, and the robbery the same night of several thousand dollars from the Circle H Ranch safe.” Daniel tucked the tips of his hands into his vest pockets and wandered throughout the room as he talked.

  Adam noticed his older brother never turned his back on the disgruntled-looking ranch hand who appeared decidedly more nervous than the others. Had Daniel judged the fellow’s outward appearance as troubling also?

  “I’ve heard enough,” the fellow in question muttered and moved toward the door.

  Red blocked his exit and waved him back toward a vacant chair. “Nobody leaves here until I say so.”

  The ranch hand narrowed his eyes and glared at him.

  “Sit down,” Red reiterated.

  Daniel waved the fellow toward the chair. “Please take a seat. I’m almost finished.”

  The ranch hand walked across the room and flopped onto the chair, muttering something to himself.

  “My colleagues and I have given extensive thought to the identity of the person or persons who might be responsible for the attempt on Mr. Pearson’s life.” Daniel’s hands dropped to his sides. “And after talking to Red and interviewing several of the ranch hands here on the Circle H, I’ve deduced there are only a couple possibilities.”

  “Get on with it,” one of the ranch hands blurted. “If you know who you’re looking for, then arrest him and we can get back to playing cards.”

  “Patience, sir. I’ll wind this up in a minute.” Daniel crossed the room and stood beside the discontented ranch hand.

  “Firstly, the attempted murderer and robber must have been aware of Mr. Pearson’s presence on the ranch that night, even though Mr. Pearson attended the horse races earlier in the day and put in an appearance at a celebration later at the Cactus Plains Hotel.” Daniel leaned against the wall. “The robber in all probability believed Mr. Pearson owed him the money, otherwise why suddenly commit a robbery? And he more than likely guessed that Pearson had opened the safe while in the ranch study.”

  “Pearson owed all of us several months’ wages,” the grizzled ranch hand scoffed. “You reckon we all took what was coming to us?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Not at all. Most of you had demonstrated patience with Mr. Pearson and wouldn’t resort to violence or an illegal act to acquire funds, despite the fact they were certainly due you.”

  Red stood arms crossed over his chest. “Why would my men rob from the ranch safe? If one of them required money, I advanced the fellow a few dollars myself to keep him in tobacco or whatever he needed.”

  “That’s true,” the grizzled ranch hand chimed in. “That feller keeps an accountin’ of what’s owed him in a little book in his trouser pocket. Show him yer book, Red.”

  The foreman slipped a hand into his rear trouser pocket and extracted a small black notebook. He waved it in Daniel’s direction and then returned it to his pocket. “I know to the penny what every man here owes me. And what Pearson owed them as well. Of course, Leonard paid everyone when he arrived home. The boss doesn’t owe us a penny until next pay time comes around.”

  “And I’m certain every man here appreciated being paid,” Adam added.

  A muttered round of thanks and words of agreement rumbled throughout the room.

  “What’s your name, sir?” Daniel inquired of the unhappy fellow seated beside where he was standing.

  The man startled and glared at Daniel. “Mitchell. Douglas Mitchell.”

  Daniel met eyes with the foreman. “How much does Mr. Mitchell owe you?”

  Red dug his book out of his pocket again and rifled through the pages. “Nothing. He’s never borrowed any money from me.”

  “Why is that, Mr. Mitchell?” Daniel inquired.

  “Never had any need,” Mitchell growled.

  “No need?” Daniel took a step back, appearing slightly aghast. “Do you not smoke? Do you not enjoy a whiskey at the saloon when in town?”

  The old grizzled fellow chuckled. “Too busy with yer card players, I’d wager.”

  “So, you’re a gambler, are you?” Daniel surmised. “Have you ever played cards of an evening with Mr. Pearson?”

  The ranch hand shifted on his chair. “Maybe. Once or twice,” he muttered.

  “Actually, according to the owner of the local saloon, you play in his establishment quite regularly. And you’ve been spotted playing cards with Mr. Pearson and some of his cronies at the Cactus Plains Hotel.” Daniel straightened and met Mr. Mitchell’s eyes. “In fact, I’ve been told you’ve lost heavily to Mr. Pearson on several occasions. I would imagine any savings you’ve squirreled away while employed here on the Circle H or elsewhere have been eaten up, if not totally decimated.”

  “The bastard cheats!” Mitchel blurted, leaping off his chair. “I’ve accused him of cheating a couple of times, but no one will stand up to him. He demanded I honor my gambling debts and he left me with barely a penny to my name.”

  “So you decided to simply take what he owed you,” Daniel suggested. “And kill him in the bargain.”

  “No! Yes! No!” The fellow dragged his hand down his face. “I… I stormed into the study demanding my wages. Told the cheating, thieving bastard I wasn’t playing cards with him again. He just laughed at me and ordered me out of the house. I noticed the safe door was slightly open and I spotted stacks of money in there. I told him I wasn’t leaving until I was paid in full. We argued and he pulled out a pistol from one of his desk drawers. By then I’d had enough of it and I grabbed the pistol and we struggled. The gun went off and he fell to the floor. I figured someone would hear the shot, so I grabbed as much cash from the open safe as I could and raced out of the house.”

  “You left Mr. Pearson bleeding to death on the study floor,” Red blurted.

  “I didn’t reckon I’d killed him. He was holding the gun himself when it went off.” Mitchell shook his head. “I circled around the house and past the barns and slipped into the bunkhouse without anyone noticing me. Hid the money under my mattress, kicked off my boo
ts, dropped my trousers, and crawled into my bedroll.”

  “No one saw you?” Adam blurted, noticing Leonard moving toward the far end of the bunkhouse.

  “Not that I know of. Happened around eight o’clock. We’d had a busy week with the racing and fellows turned in early. I figured everyone was asleep. Nobody heard the shot, I guess, since it wasn’t until the next morning when we learned Mrs. Griffith returned home early and found Pearson in his study. Red hauled him to town to see Doc.”

  Red nodded. “Heard her screaming as she stood on the veranda and I rushed out to see what the trouble was. That would be about nine-thirty. Maybe a bit later. I saw Pearson on the study floor where she told me she found him. I reckoned it might be too late, but I loaded up Pearson in the supply wagon and took him into town anyway.”

  “That makes sense,” Daniel added. “Willow and Leonard reported discovering Pearson around nine o’clock and leaving about twenty minutes later after they’d packed a bag and slipped away from the ranch. They never saw Mrs. Griffith. You all must have missed each other by minutes.”

  “And, Mitchell, you never mentioned to anyone that it was you who struggled with him. Or that you took the money?”

  “Hell, no. I hid in the apple orchard next afternoon and counted the money. I’d stolen a couple thousand dollars more than Pearson owed me, wages and gambling debts combined. I wasn’t going to fess up to anything. And besides, Pearson hadn’t died.”

  Daniel grabbed Douglas Mitchell by the arm, deftly handcuffing him in the process. “Well, I tend to believe your claim the shooting was an accident. But there’s still the matter of the theft of money.”

  “It’s all here, or most of it anyway,” Leonard said, carrying stacks of bundled cash in his fists. “Found this under Douglas’s mattress.”

  “I’ll give back what wasn’t owed me,” Mitchell offered, struggling to free his arm from Daniel’s grip.

  “Doesn’t matter now.” Daniel headed toward the door with him. “You’re under arrest. We’ll let the judge straighten this out. Bring that cash will you, Leonard.”