The Shadow Trail (An Evan Ryder Western)
Page 1
THE SHADOW TRAIL
AN EVAN RYDER WEIRD WESTERN
J.W. BRADLEY
COPYRIGHT 2012 Dark and Stormy Tales Inc. and J.W. Bradley
All rights reserved. The Lost Templar, W.E.r.d., Gideon Clark, and Evan Ryder are trademarks of Dark and Stormy Tales Inc.
No part of this book may be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from the copyright owner.
1
Their voices filtered to me even through the thick oak door.
“He’s quite the dandy I hear.”
Not true sir! I thought.
“Coddled by his family since birth is the talk.”
I must disagree with that as well.
“Well, his father has nearly a tenth of the entire Midwest as his personal ranch land!”
Hmm, I will concede that point. Still, it has no bearing on my abilities. This last was from Carter Maynes, my direct superior in the Pinkerton Agency, and who I assumed to be one of my most trusted advocates. He was likely only trying to appease the other man; the other being Dr. Joshua Burnett who had called upon our agency to help with the matter of his missing son. As he was a personal friend of Allen Pinkerton II, grandson of our founder, his situation demanded swift resolution.
I leaned back on the uncomfortable wooden bench in the good Doctor’s waiting room and continued to listen to the other’s ill concealed opinions of me. Across from me sat Burnett’s secretary. The pretty girl was trying her best to look busy, scribbling out some notes, obviously embarrassed for me as the men carried on. Her auburn hair was pinned up in a very proper and formal style, but several locks hung endearingly stray at her temples.
“That suit! It looks like it could have come from Seville Row in London by God!” sounded from the other room.
Good eye Doctor! I looked down at my grey pinstriped, vested ensemble and wondered if it had been better had I left on my dusty frock coat. The secretary unexpectedly became bold and I witnessed one of her eyebrows raise appraisingly at me. Well now-
“Ryder!” I hadn’t heard the door open. Carter was standing there motioning me inside, his portly frame taking up the entire opening. “Get in here and assure Dr. Burnett of your qualifications.” He turned to the secretary. “I hope I haven’t left this rogue too long in your presence Miss?”
Shy again, she looked back to her papers and shook her head.
Slipping by his formidable girth, I frowned at Carter, letting him know what I thought of his obvious effort at humiliating me.
Inside Dr. Burnett’s office, I was immediately struck by its rather spartan and drab furnishings. The man was supposedly well to do, but except for a large, ornate wooden desk, the furniture might have well been cobbled together from things he had found in an abandoned Calvary outpost during the last century.
“Evan Ryder, your reputation precedes you,” the Doctor said as he leaned, half sitting on the desk. Smoke from a large cigar gripped in his hand drifted in the air, thick as a campfire’s. He was nearly as rotund as Carter Maynes and ruddy in complexion. A longish white beard clashed determinedly with his skin tone.
“Evidently,” I remained standing as he did not offer me a seat and took a moment to make some more observations about the man and his surroundings.
Carter coughed quietly from behind me then explained, “Mr. Ryder here has made quite a name for himself in our organization. He has tracked down many an outlaw and solved a godly sum of crimes for us.”
The Doctor grunted skeptically and puffed on his cigar. “Very well, old Allen did say he would send his very best, so I’ll trust his word.”
“Thank you.” I nodded, only slightly bristled.
Burnett stood up and circled his desk, sitting down heavily in a chair behind it. “My son, Grant, he’s all I have left since my wife died. I pressed him hard to enter my line of work. Medicine is a frontier itself of sorts. But my boy, he would have none of it. It was those damn books his mother let him read, full of impossible whatnot. He had a taste for adventure, you see, always exploring, seeking out the answers to things.” The Doctor looked me in the eyes then, seemingly with a fresh perspective. “He’s about your age I reckon. And I had him all to myself until those men came.”
“Men? You made no mention of anyone’s immediate involvement in your telegraph Doctor.” Maynes said from behind me.
“Hmm, and that’s well and good. They were a shady bunch. Several times last year, one or two would stop by in the dead of night and enlist Grant’s aid in some grand misadventure. Most times he was back in a day or so, and he’d have money. Now my son, he’s an upstanding individual, crime wouldn’t suit him. And before you go making assumptions, your boss Allen Pinkerton knew of them. Said they were a group not too different than yours, more like lawmen of a type than not, and real secretive about all things.”
Maynes and I exchanged a glance, and I made a note to inquire if my companion might know more of whom the Doctor spoke. “We will of course speak with Mr. Pinkerton on that subject. But for now, you said Grant’s been gone two weeks, with no word?” I asked.
“Yes, almost exactly that long. I fear the worst.” The Doctor seemed to slump in his chair, at last showing signs of the toll his missing son was taking on him. “Sheriff William Heller went off two nights ago with an Indian tracker, supposedly on his trail. Of course it cost me quite a bit for the personal attention.” Pointing at me with the cigar, its ashes dangerously long now, Burnett said, “What can you do that the Sheriff can’t?”
“Well, in truth, I don’t know anything about Sheriff Heller, but I can tell you that your son was romantically inclined toward the comely lass in the outer room until some time ago, when he lost interest. She’s just now healing from that broken heart. And it wasn’t only the strange men you speak of that captured his attention. It’s something more…captivating.”
Burnett’s jaw dropped open and I heard Carter hiss a warning to me under his breath. I ignored them both. “And you sir, are more a man of adventure than you make out to be. The sun lines on your face are not those of a lifelong, shut-in practitioner of medicine. While you are in part what you appear to be, that tobacco of which you are partaking is a rare blend, popular only in the men’s hunting clubs of England, and one club more so in particular, The Wicked Fox, where its proprietor, a Mr. Dashiell Hammett doles it out sparingly, and is its only importer. Believe me, on my last hunting trip abroad Hammett gave me but a pinch to bring home to my family’s patriarch, my father.” I then pointed at Burnett’s desk. “There, probably strapped by a thong of leather, is a Smith & Wesson Model Three Schofield, a shooter’s gun. The sun coming in from the window has cast its outline in shadow there.” I pointed then to the wall and raised my finger to point at a painting above the gun’s silhouette. It depicted a majestic heard of bison, stampeding across a grassy plain. “And behind that is a safe, most likely well stocked with the money you choose not to spend on decorating your place of business, money you use in pursuits that lie closer to your heart.” I clapped my hands together in case Burnett’s thoughts had become dazed, for his eyes had clouded somewhat during my revelations. “These strange men you speak of, they were originally acquaintances of yours I presume and your son took a liking to their trade.” Lack of any denial told me all I needed to know. “Very well, be they as Pinkertons, Freemasons or even Illuminati, it matters not, this dandy before you, will find your son without another clue from you.” I tried a tempering smile after spouting this, for I am wont to overstep on the side of righteousness to the point of rudeness when I feel as though someone has played a less than honorable hand against me.
I left Carter and Burnett to come to ter
ms, nodded at the Doctor’s lovely girl, retrieved my coat from the bench, my hat from the stand and stepped into the sun. Nina was there waiting patiently as ever. She’s a fine Appaloosa mare, tireless, stalwart and blessed with the most beautiful of her breed’s signature leopard spotted coat pattern. Bred by the Nez Perce, her line was one of the few that survived the tribe’s great war of 1877 and her glorious dark brown spots floating in a bright white base coat is a startling sight when the horse is at full speed. She scoffed at me as I approached, Nina had noticed something. Pulling off my hat once again, I found a note tucked into the maroon band encircling it.
My name is Penny Gordon and I live with my mama just south of town. Our place is the white painted house standing behind the big, dead oak. I can cook a mean venison chili.
I smiled sadly, if only my heart could take the simple road, alas mine was a restless soul that never could seem to find the time, even for such a lovely as Burnett’s secretary, little Miss Gordon.
Still staring at the paper, I heard Carter Maynes emerge from the building. “Alright Ryder, just one thing,” his large form lumbered past me and I winked in sympathy at his somewhat sturdy Arabian stallion as I felt it tense beside me, readying itself for the load. “How’d you know about the girl?”
Tucking the note away, I threw my leg over Nina’s broad back. “It was the hairbrush, a fine silver specimen, engraved with the initials P.G. and sitting on her desk. It was a gift I can envision a refined, educated gentleman giving her. Penny Gordon is much too pretty to have underfoot for a man in his prime like Grant Burnett to resist.” Nina snorted and I scratched her neck as Carter and I got underway, we had a long ride before we would reach the Doctor’s home and there was little daylight left, so I explained the rest as we rode, “She discreetly put the brush away as I took my seat, but only in her mind did the gift make her appear unavailable. Any normal man would not have suspected its significance, but by that action I realized Grant must have moved on in his heart and she knew it, and there I was sitting before her, within reach.”
“Good Lord, Ryder you have quite a view of yourself! I hope this particular endeavor does not deliver to you your long overdue comeuppance!” He spurred his horse and trotted on ahead.
The sun was setting clay red in front of us, and I chose to blame the evening’s weird lighting for the unfamiliar wave of trepidation that I felt Carter’s words cast over me.
2
It was full on night when Carter and I reached Dr. Burnett’s homestead. Here, evidence of his money and standing was much more evident. An endless white picket fence disappeared into the darkness to each side of us as we rode under a sign reading The Burnett Heartland. Burning torches bookended the open gateway, they were obviously lit each night by a servant of some kind, prior to the Doctor’s arrival.
“Blast! How much further is it?” I heard Carter mutter and I was wondering about that myself when at last, still nearly an acre distant, I saw lights of some kind and could only assume it was the main house finally appearing before us.
In the last few moments of the ride, I reflected on this strange group of men the Doctor had alluded to and wondered at their likely involvement. Perhaps one of Burnett’s people at the house would have information on the subject. The house, as it rose before us, was a sprawling two story Victorian, a style not seen often here in north Texas. On the horizon behind the homestead rose Little Mountain, aptly named as it was gradually sloped and not terrible tall. A bit of an oddity, resting alone out here in the plains, it blotted out the stars behind the house.
The front door stood open as we approached and the silhouette of a woman was revealed in the light from inside. Carter and I both removed our hats after dismounting the horses and the woman came down the porch steps to meet us.
“Evening gentlemen, you may call me Mama Louise and the Doctor said this morning ‘fore he left to be expectin’ yah.” She was an elderly colored woman with a friendly face and I could tell by the sharp look in her eyes, that she was not one for foolishness, was observant to a fault and that this whole mess with Burnett’s son was not to her liking. I felt immediately endeared and was impatient to discover what I could glean from her.
“Take your horses off there to the barn ‘round back. There’s oats and water hangin’ in buckets just inside the door. After, I’ll meet yah back here in the foyer.”
“Yes Mama Louise,” Carter said, and he jerked his head, signaling me to follow. I nodded at the old woman, my desire to begin questioning her, stifled only with the greatest of efforts. “Come on Ryder, our investigation can commence after we’ve had some hot food.” Reluctantly I turned and led Nina after my ambling companion to the barn.
Not long after full introductions had been made, Mama Louise fed us a fine meal of roasted Cornish hen surrounded by a vast array of vegetables she was proud to tell us had been grown right here on Burnett land. Just as Carter and I were forking the last of the fabulous dinner into our mouths, we heard a wagon arrive out front.
“That’ll be the doctor. He likes to take a drink in town before coming home. ‘Course that was before poor Grant went missin’. Lately it’s been more to the tune of a full bottle of the rotgut,” the old woman told us from her place by the stove.
With a loud scraping noise, Carter pushed his chair back from the table. “Miss Louise, might there be some place in the house the good doctor prefers to have something like an after dinner smoke?”
“Yes indeed, he has a small library in the back.” She continued to address Carter but looked at me pointedly, “He probably has done his eatin’ in town. I suspect he’ll join you for a smoke.”
Carter scratched at one of his overlong sideburns and shook his head at me. “The two of you are putting on quite the show of subterfuge and I’m finding it rather entertaining, however the hour is late, I’ll keep Burnett occupied while Mama Louise shows you around a bit.”
Mama Louise and I walked out to the barn in darkness. Even in his drunken state, I was mindful that Burnett might see the light from a lantern crossing his yard.
“The man’s been so secretive for so long, he’s all tied up inside,” she whispered to me. “Come ‘round here.” She circled to the side of the barn and opened a side door there then she grabbed a lantern off a hook just inside and I lit it with a kitchen match. Mama Louise’ eyes were wide and already staring in mine when the flame flared to life. “Them men that come around, you remind me of em somewhat. Not bad per say, just different.”
“I assure you, I know nothing of these strange characters, but by this endeavor’s end, I aim to.” I was dead set on this, as I was loathe to admit that there might be a shadowy agency of some kind that even I knew nothing about. And the fact that Carter Maynes had heard whispers of their existence felt all the more damaging to my self-esteem.
“You’re a good boy, I can tell, and so is Grant, bless his heart, that’s why I’m takin’ this risk here. Mr. Burnett doesn’t know I know about this place, but I do and that’s why I’m fixing to show yah.”
“Please don’t worry yourself Mama Louise, if you are referring to the hidden chamber beneath this barn, I already suspected it was there.”
“See now you’re spooking me like them others.”
“Not at all.” I walked over to where Nina was standing and still munching on her oats. She snorted happily as I scratched her neck. “When my horse crossed from outside and into the barn, I heard the slightest change of timber in the sound of her footsteps. I immediately recognized it as relatively hollow sounding compared to outside, therefore I assumed there to be an underground chamber of some kind.”
She smiled crookedly. “Alrighty, the door is under the water trough. It has to be emptied though, there’s a plug to pull. I never been down but I spied Mr. Burnett take those men below.”
“Do you think they are responsible for whatever happened to Grant?”
She squinted her eyes then leaned in conspiratorially. “No, I heard ‘em arguing with the Doct
or, seems they were as upset as he was about Grant. I imagine the Burnett’s have done business with that bunch for generations.”
I noticed my heart was beating faster than it usually did, and I found that I was anxious to see below. Before asking the next question, I found and pulled the plug on the water trough. As the liquid spewed out agonizingly slow, I asked, “Is there anything else you can tell me about these men?”
She shook her head. “No, but there was a woman.”
“Yes, Miss Gordon from the Doctor’s office.” I estimated the water to only be a quarter drained.
“Oh no, a woman come down from the mountain. I watched her slip into Grant’s window one night. Not long after that, he didn’t talk much of the Gordon woman no more.”
I could only stare at Mama Louise for a time before speaking, “Why did no one tell us of this before?”
She leaned back, cackling good naturedly, “I wanted to watch you a bit, take your measure. The doctor told me not to speak of it, reputation’s sake and what not. He thinks it don’t matter, that she’s just a whore from town. And that I just thought she come from the mountain.”
I stared at the emptying trough, thinking. Would Grant have run away with a lady friend? No, that was absurd. He had too much to hold him here. Something else was going on. Better to see what the elder Burnett was hiding, then go from there.
“Here, take this lantern, I best get to the house. Mr. Burnett will be wanting to lay down to sleep soon.”
“I’m sure Mr. Maynes will have him quite ready to. One last thing, are you certain this woman did not come from town?” I took the lantern then Mama Louise headed for the door.
“I live on the second story, in a room facing west, toward Little Mountain. We have ourselves early sunsets here on the east side, everything cast in evening shadow, but my old eyes are mighty good, and I saw her skipping down a path, skin white as the moon, long dark hair flowing behind. I saw her.”