Deborah's Dilemma

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Deborah's Dilemma Page 7

by Caroline Clemmons


  He was shocked at the newspaperman’s appearance. “Mr. Taber, did the sheriff speak to you about what he wants from me?”

  “He did and I’ve set you up a place to read through back issues over here in the corner. Gonna be dusty with the repairs and all.”

  “Can I do something for you before I get started?”

  Herman shook his head. “No, not unless you figure out who’s responsible for this trouble and can heal my boy.”

  “I can’t perform healing but I can sure work on the first. I’m sorry to trouble you further, but do you have a piece of paper and a pencil I can use?”

  “I put a notebook and pencils where you’re set up. If you need anything else, let me know. I’m working on another edition.”

  “Glad you’re not letting a madman stop you. Deborah told me you wouldn’t.”

  “Can’t or they’ll take over the world.”

  Trey sat at the table Herman had arranged. He started with the issue on top, which was from five years ago. He read the story announcing Virgil as the new sheriff. Having just met the sheriff this week, he was glad to know more about him and his background.

  He hurried on, realizing he couldn’t take time to read everything interesting. He was searching for patterns of trouble. Searching for reports of trouble between local citizens, he searched page after page.

  About ten, a large man came in carrying a package. “Here’s your feedbag, Herman, and I have wonderful news. Your son asked for water last night and drank a bit. Able to drink more this morning and have some soup.”

  Watching Herman was like seeing him reverse age. A wide smile broke out on his face and his posture straightened. “Thank God. Has the doctor seen him?”

  “I saw him headed for your place when I was coming here. Reckon he’ll be by directly.”

  “I think I’ll have a bit of that food now. Would you like some?”

  “No, thank you but you go ahead.”

  Trey stood. “Hello, I’m Trey Pearson. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Ambrose Green, retired and loving it. Worked as head teller at the bank until I was shot in the robbery. Convinced me it was time to retire.”

  “That would do it for me.”

  Herman held a half-eaten sandwich. “Sorry, Ambrose. Trey here is working on something for the sheriff. Don’t understand what but if it will help catch whoever is guilty, that’s to the good.”

  Trey went back to work while the two friends chatted. The good news buoyed his spirits, too. He found an item worth indicating and listed it in the notebook.

  Near noon, Dr. Ross came by to verify the good news. “He’s not quite able to open his eyes, but the brain is working, all right. Your wife and daughter are feeding him alternating soup and water and tea. I expect he’ll wake up completely in a few more hours.”

  After the doctor had gone, Trey stood up. “I believe I’ll slip over and get some lunch.”

  Herman waved a hand as if erasing the statement. “Nonsense, we have plenty of food. If you don’t help us eat it, it will go to waste. Deborah always packs too much, hoping I’ll eat a lot.”

  “That’s real nice of you, Mr. Taber. I appreciate the offer.”

  The newspaperman handed him a parcel wrapped in paper. “Here’s roast beef sandwich. Please, call me Herman.”

  Herman passed him a jar of what appeared to be lemonade. “My daughter thinks I don’t eat enough. I guess she’s right lately.”

  “This is a good sandwich.” Trey ate quickly and returned to his duty.

  He’d found a pattern that upset him. Determined to finish the stack of newspapers before he talked to Virgil, he continued. As he progressed, he made careful notes detailing the events, dates, and names involved.

  Virgil stopped by about one o’clock. “This looks like a busy place. Herman, I need to talk to you confidentially.”

  Ambrose stood. “I can run on home now.”

  The sheriff held up a hand to stop him. “No, Ambrose, you and Trey need to hear this, too.” He glanced over his shoulder at the man and his son working on repairing the fire damage.

  Herman gave a jerk of his head and spoke quietly, “There’s a small room in the back.” Louder, he said, “Martin, if someone comes in, will you tell them I’ll be with them in a minute?”

  The carpenter barely looked up. “Sure thing.”

  Virgil closed the door behind him. “Sorry to be so secretive but I don’t know Martin or his son well enough to know their friends. Can’t take a chance on the wrong people hearing what we discuss.”

  Herman frowned and parked a hip on a table top. “That sounds ominous.”

  “It is. I had a surprising visitor early this morning. He insisted no one know who’d told me. Said he overheard an interesting conversation at the saloon last night.”

  Herman looked at the sheriff. “I guess you mean Coker’s place.”

  Virgil nodded. “Seems Kirby and two of his friends were talking and drinking and had their heads together as if they were planning something. This man who came to see me overheard part of their conversation. Even though he and I are anything but friends, the talk he heard concerned him enough to pass on the information.”

  Trey figured bad news was coming. “Up to no good, huh?”

  “Turns out two of the men running for city council are in the employ of Kirby. He told the two with him that he could guarantee one would be appointed the new sheriff and the other the chief deputy. Other deputies would be from Kirby’s ranch hands.”

  Herman asked, “Which two men running for city council are Kirby’s?”

  Virgil scrubbed a hand across his face. “This is hard to process but they’re Ron Masters and Rick Tippen.”

  Herman’s face registered shock. “Rick? I wouldn’t have thought that of him. Always seemed like an easygoing young man. The ice man is a surprise, too.”

  “Turns out Rick wants to be Fire Chief. I don’t know what Masters hopes to gain. Maybe it’s purely a monetary decision.”

  Trey crossed his arms and leaned against a set of shelves. “So, Kirby’s paying them to vote his way if they’re elected. Isn’t it too late to register to run?”

  “It is but someone can run as a write-in candidate.” Virgil pounded his palm with his fist. “I’d hate like everything to lose my job but that’s not the reason I’m so riled. We have to stop Kirby because here’s the worst of it.”

  He leaned forward and looked at each man there. “If he gets all his people in place, he’s going to charge so-called ‘insurance’ money to all the businesses to protect them.”

  Ambrose had yet to say anything but his face turned red and he sputtered, “Why that dadburn crook. We have to get someone to run against him. And, make sure his people don’t get elected to the city council.”

  Herman’s face contorted in anger. “So, it’s pay up or bottle bombs or other dirty work. I’ve always been a peace-loving man, but I’m changing my outlook.”

  Virgil held up his hand. “Don’t anyone take the law into their hands. Well, on second thought I guess we have to and that’s why I’m here. Believe I can convince Scott Ferguson to run for mayor if you don’t know someone else who’d like the job.”

  Herman mulled over the idea. “Scott would do a good job as mayor. Evans at the drug store would be a good councilman. So would Colin Singleton but not enough people know him yet.”

  Virgil nodded at Herman. “There are numerous good possibilities for city council but we need to choose those with the strongest chance of winning. Herman, you’ve stuck your neck out before. I was hoping you’d stick it out again and promote the right people. I don’t want you to have another fire so we have to be careful how this is handled.”

  Trey stepped forward. “Why don’t you have a pretend group take out a full page advertisement? No names of who’s responsible, but at the bottom of the ad you could say ‘Sponsored by the Committee of Concerned Citizens’ or something like that. Kirby can’t blame anyone specifically. Herman on
ly sold an advertisement but isn’t involved.”

  Herman rubbed his hands together. “You go talk to these men, Virgil. Let me know who you line up. We don’t have much time.”

  Ambrose leaned forward. “Make sure you know they’re fair men.”

  “I’ll check back as soon as I can.” Virgil hurried from the building.

  Trey shook his head in disgust. “Dirty dealings like that make me sick. I’ll go back to my task now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Deborah opened the door to admit Chief Deputy Milton Sprouse. “Come in, Milton.” Unlike Virgil who’d come from the Midwest, Milton had grown up in Pearson Grove.

  “I hear your brother is awake. Congratulations. Guess he still has to rest but I sure need to talk to him.”

  “Come with me. He’ll be happy to see someone besides Mama and me and the doctor.”

  Milton held his hat in his hands. “Jeff, glad to see you with your eyes open. I wonder if you can remember anything about the shooting.”

  Deborah plumped up her brother’s pillows so he could sit up.

  Jeff wiggled higher. A bandage wound around his chest and shoulder. “I didn’t see much, just a shape in the dark. I couldn’t identify anyone.”

  She pushed the chair toward Milton so he could sit near the bed.

  Milton smiled at her and took the seat. “Was the shape tall or short, thin or stocky? For instance, did the shape resemble your sister ridding herself of a troublesome younger brother? Anything you can remember will help.”

  Jeff grinned at Deborah then directed his attention to Milton. “I’ve thought about it since I woke. I’d say a man a couple or three inches under six feet and not fat, but stocky. Sorry, but it happened so fast and whoever shot us was in the shadows between the blacksmith shop and the bakery. One second I was talking to Eric and the next he dropped beside me. Before I could process he’d been killed, I was knocked off my feet and unconscious.”

  “At least that’s enough to clear Trey Pearson for certain.”

  Jeff shook his head. “I’m positive it wasn’t Trey. I wish I could be more helpful but I can’t say who shot us. Since Virgil isn’t with you, does that mean he has other clues?”

  Milton hesitated. “He’s pursuing another problem right now, but we’re both still investigating the shooting. Trey is helping us with a research project regarding it. We’re plenty busy and a lot is happening.”

  Mama looked incredulous. “Surely a murder and shooting are more important than anything else.”

  Milton stood and nodded to her. “Yes, ma’am, it’s our main priority. We’re getting closer, too.”

  He looked at her and Jeff then Mama. “I need to be going unless you think of anything else right now. If you think of something later, write it down. One of us will be by to check on you.”

  Deborah walked him to the front door. “Thank you for coming by, Milton.”

  “Good to see Jeff awake. Nice to see you, too.” He clamped his hat on his head and headed down the walk.

  She sighed as she watched him stride toward town. He was a nice man who’d had a crush on her for some time. He’d make someone a good husband. She’d given him no encouragement because—nice as he was—he wasn’t the right man for her.

  The image of Trey Pearson popped into her head. Was he the right one? She’d had a crush on him for a long time. She hoped she wasn’t imagining the admiration in his eyes when his gaze met hers. And, he had asked to court her. Surely that meant something positive.

  Later, near dusk, Ambrose Green stopped by with a copy of The Pearson Grove Gazette special edition. “Your father thought you and your mother would find this interesting.”

  Deborah held up the one-sheet edition and dropped onto a chair. “My goodness, what caused this?”

  Friends! Neighbors!

  Protect our wonderful community!

  Write in these names in Pearson Grove’s Friday election!

  For Mayor…..Scott Ferguson, owner of Ferguson’s Mercantile, hero of the recent bank robbery, active in the community, a family man.

  For City Council…..Rudy Evans, pharmacist and owner of Evans Drug Store, a family man who is interested in protecting our community

  For City Council….Zeke Allen, Sr., owner of Builders Best Lumber Yard, a family man interested in protecting values and keeping our community strong

  Vote for these men listed on the ballot:

  For City Council…..Gus Hammett, owner of Sweet Tooth Bakery and Sunshine Café, a family man

  For City Council…..Frank Dixon, owner of Dixon’s Grain Elevator, a family man

  Paid for by the Committee to Keep Pearson Grove a Family Community

  “Heavens he used that huge type he jokes he was saving for the second coming.” Deborah met Ambrose’s gaze. “I’m sure there’s a really interesting story that goes with this. Are you going to tell me?”

  He tugged at his ear lobe. “Well, now, I’m not supposed to tell anyone but reckon your father won’t mind if you and your mother and brother know.”

  “Won’t you come in where Mama and Jeff are so they can hear, too.”

  He nodded. “Might as well just explain once.”

  They went to Jeff’s room.

  Ambrose explained what had caused the advertisement concerning the election while Deborah showed the paper to Jeff and Mama.

  Deborah didn’t like Norris Kirby but she wouldn’t have believed the man would be so underhanded. “That’s an incredible story. Thank heavens Virgil found out in time.”

  Mama twisted her handkerchief. “Oh, dear, I hope no one holds your Papa responsible.”

  Ambrose pointed to the last line. “That’s why there’s that line at the bottom, see?”

  Mama shook her head, a worried frown creasing her brow. “I have a feeling that won’t be enough. Remember the place was bombed because someone didn’t like Herman’s news stories.”

  Deborah agreed. What would happen next? “This is worrisome. An edition like this is a lot more volatile.”

  Ambrose waved a hand as if waving away trouble. “Don’t y’all worry. Sheriff has deputies guarding the newspaper until after the election. Also made certain this edition was delivered to every house and business in town.”

  Deborah scanned the paper again. “I guess we’ll find out how successful this was tomorrow. Actually it will probably be Saturday morning before we know all the ballots have been counted.”

  Ambrose left for his home. Deborah and her mother and brother were left speculating.

  Jeff rested against his pillows. “I hope nothing else bad is going to happen. Seems like things went to he… heck in a hurry.”

  Mama rose. “I’m going to prepare supper. Deborah, I appreciate the way you’ve kept the family going while Jeff’s been laid up and I’ve been sitting with him.”

  Jeff looked at his mother. “I sure would like something besides soup.”

  Mama sent him The Look. “You’ll eat what Dr. Ross says you can eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Deborah when his mother had left the room. “Could you slip me a few pieces of meat?”

  Deborah laughed at him. Hearing him joke and complain was wonderful. “I probably would have if you hadn’t called me a spinster in front of half the town.”

  “Aw, sis, you shouldn’t mind because you ended up with Trey Pearson. You may think I don’t know you’ve mooned over him since grade school, but I do.”

  She felt her face heat with a blush. “Jeffrey Taber, do not tell a soul. I promise you being shot will be a picnic compared to what I’ll do to you if you share that with anyone. Do you understand?”

  He grinned mischievously. “I’d understand much better if I had a nice serving of roast beef.”

  His teasing after him being so ill made her want to dance with joy. “You are incorrigible. Hmm, I might slip you a few bites.”

  “Thank you, thank you. I’m starving. Beef broth is not satisfactory, believe me. I need real food fit for a man.


  “If we ever get an opera house, I suggest you try out for stage parts. You certainly have a knack for melodrama.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trey wrote another event in the notebook.

  Herman glanced at it as he went by. “You’re getting quite a lot of notes there. Hope they’re telling you something.”

  “I’m learning some disturbing facts here. I’ll be glad when I finish and can show the results to the sheriff and his deputy.”

  “You eligible to vote?”

  “No. We don’t own anything in town. I’ll be happy to keep watch while you go vote, though. Between me and the two deputies, things should be safe.”

  Herman removed his apron and cuffs. “I sure do want to vote so I’ll take you up on your offer. Maybe I can get a feel of how the crowd thinks.”

  “On second thought, maybe I should escort you, Herman. The deputies won’t let anything happen to the office here.”

  “If you wish I won’t turn down your company.”

  They stopped at the door to let Arthur Wallis know where they were headed. Afterward, the two of them proceeded down the street to the courthouse and joined the line of people waiting.

  “I’ll wait out here, Herman. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to sneak a vote.” Trey leaned against a pillar while he waited for the other man.

  He listened to those in line. Conversation bordered on surprise at the special edition to speculation as to the reason.

  Mr. McKelvey was leaving the voting room and stopped beside him. “You know what’s going on with that ad yesterday?”

  “I’m just here waiting for Mr. Taber.”

  “Saw your badge.” The other man looked him up and down. “Oh, yeah, and I saw you with Taber’s girl. Guess he’s going to be your father-in-law someday.”

 

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