Silent Night

by A. T. Butler

  Jacob frowned. Though he suspected that to be the case, hearing it said out loud made him feel like he had a pit in his stomach. His gut told him that kid was innocent but he didn’t know how to prove it with all the evidence, meager though it was, pointing in the other direction.

  Regardless of how this all played out, though, Jacob didn’t want to take up any more of the marshal’s time. It was in his best interest to keep on the man’s good side as much as possible.

  “I hear you,” Jacob said. “I know you don’t want an innocent man punished anymore that I do. I’ll do my best, for Benjamin and for the law.”

  “You do that,” the marshal said. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he pointed at his desk, “I have a lot of work to do. I trust you can see yourself out.”

  Jacob winced to himself at the coldness in the lawman’s voice, but did as he said.

  Once he got out onto the street, Jacob realized he didn’t have much time before he was supposed to meet Bonnie. Somehow in their conversation the day before, she had contrived to get him to volunteer to help with the church Nativity play.

  Benjamin was counting on him.

  But so was Bonnie.

  Jacob would figure out a way to help both of them.

  In the meantime, however, he had an appointment to keep. Jacob had just enough time to walk the several blocks through Tucson to the Everlasting Hope Church, where he would be assigned with helping to build a set for the upcoming pageant. It had been more than a year since he had built anything even remotely similar, but he was willing to try.

  Just as when he visited the church for Sunday services, when Jacob approached the church the double front doors were thrown open wide. He cautiously stepped over the threshold. He couldn’t remember the last time he had visited a church not on Sunday. There was something about being in this building at another time of day that made the experience feel not quite real.

  “Jacob!” a voice called from the front of the sanctuary.

  As Jacob’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer light indoors, he noticed that Pastor Ambrose was standing in a knot of several parishioners at the front of the church. One of them, a woman with dark hair, also waved to him to come join them. Jacob strode down the center aisle of the church toward Bonnie, two other women, the pastor and another man. It appeared as though Jacob had interrupted some kind of discussion.

  “You came!” Bonnie rushed up to meet him, smiling up at him with an open, grateful expression.

  “Of course I came,” Jacob said, frowning a little that she had expected otherwise. “I’m not late, am I?”

  “It’s just that … Well, Pastor Ambrose said he had run into you at the jail this morning, so I wasn’t sure if you were going to be busy doing something else.”

  Jacob felt a stab of guilt at her assumption. She hadn’t said it unkindly or blaming in any way, but it was apparent that she didn’t truly believe that he would be there for her. That was one thing he loved about Bonnie—that she was always so understanding about his job. But it was also the one thing he hated to ask of her again and again.

  “Yes, he did but … well, the reason I was at the jail isn’t going to get in the way of the promises I’ve made to you. Don’t you worry. I’m here to help.”

  “I’m so glad,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Come along. The pastor was just telling us what still needs to be done before tomorrow night.”

  Half an hour later, Jacob had been put to work building a rough manger for the baby Jesus to lay in. Bonnie and Mrs. Cicero had to explain to him how big he needed to make it—newborn baby Jesus would be played by the ten-month-old Morehead boy—but once he got started, it was a relatively easy project. As he went about cutting and nailing the wood pieces needed to create the youngster’s temporary bed, Bonnie had been tasked with starting the robes for the shepherds. She was able to sit near where Jacob was working as she cut out the fabric from the pattern.

  As none of the other churchgoers were nearby, Jacob took the chance of being alone with Bonnie to explain to her why he was at the jail and what he aimed to do over the next day.

  “So, there’s a chance this poor boy didn’t steal anything at all and is just sitting in that jail cell for someone else’s crime?”

  “That’s right. And I want to help the poor kid, but I’m not sure I can find the right evidence to negate what the marshal has already found.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Benjamin told me everything he did that day, but … I don’t have a single thing that tells me whether or not he’s telling the truth.”

  “Well, I think that’s the first step, then, right? You need to reassure yourself whether or not you’re even on the right path before you spend any more time on this.”

  “I do. But, I also … Bonnie, I don’t want to let you down either.”

  “Jacob.” She put down her scissors and fabric and crossed to stand by him, gently moving his hand till he set down the hammer he had been wielding. Standing in front of him, looking frankly into his face, she scolded him gently. “You know better than that. How many times do I have to tell you?” She smiled. “I support whatever you think is necessary in the name of justice. I trust you. Do what you need to do?”

  “Thank you. I still want to take you to supper tonight, though,” he said with a wink. “Don’t think you’re getting out of that.”

  She laughed. “Oh, don’t you worry. I already had a word with Mrs. Everill this morning. She’s going to make sure to save the best table for us.”

  “She’s good to you.”

  “I’m good to her,” Bonnie teased.

  “You’re right,” Jacob said. “Of course you’re right. I’m going to hurry to finish this up so I can go have a chat with Mr. Towers.”

  “I think that’s the perfect place to start,” Bonnie said. “And by the time you get done with your project, I’ll be done with mine, and you can walk me home on your way to the general store.”

  Jacob couldn’t help but admire the way Bonnie sat straight and focused on her work, no matter what else was going on around her. It wasn’t the first time he had been grateful for her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  Chapter Six

  Bonnie stayed at Everlasting Hope Church for the rest of the afternoon, remaining after Jacob left to continue his investigation into the crime that Benjamin had been accused of. He made promises to see her again, and soon, though he wanted to support whatever time she chose to commit to the church Nativity play. There was only so much time left before the holiday—and before the judge arrived in Tucson. They would both be busy.

  Jacob made it to the general store in the midafternoon. He hoped, without really expecting, that it would be less busy than it had been the day before. He already felt like he was stepping on toes. It would be inconsiderate of him to take too much of Mr. or Mrs. Towers’s time to inquire about Benjamin when they should be waiting on their paying customers. But, Jacob reminded himself, saving an innocent young man would be worth a temporary inconvenience. The Towerses wouldn’t want Benjamin to be sentenced if he hadn’t done anything wrong. Though Jacob didn’t think everyone involved would see it that way, he knew what was right.

  When he arrived at the store, Jacob couldn’t even enter immediately, it was that busy. He found himself holding the door open for a series of women to enter or exit, each thanking him but going on about their business. A small gap in the procession allowed Jacob to dart inside where he immediately made for the sales counter in the back of the store.

  Mr. Towers was helping an older woman with a bolt of fabric, Mrs. Towers was helping a younger woman with a selection of glass bowls and a third person stood behind the counter a few rungs up the ladder, stacking boxes of ammunition in a display.

  The Towers family had evidently wasted no time in replacing Benjamin. They must have really needed the help this time of year to keep up with the sales. An extra pair of hands could always find work in a genera
l store.

  Standing at over six feet tall, Jacob dwarfed most of the people crowding the shop. He was able to catch Mr. Towers’s eye over the head of the woman he was helping.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Payne?”

  “I need to have a word about Benjamin Wilbourne when you have a moment, sir.”

  A frown passed across the other man’s face but only briefly. Jacob couldn’t guess what the shopkeeper might be feeling. He nodded and returned his attention to his customer.

  While he waited, Jacob had an opportunity to look around the store, observing how the customers interacted with the Towers and if anything seemed to be different now that Benjamin wasn’t there any longer. It may have just been Jacob’s assumptions, but it certainly seemed as though the store was more chaotic than usual. It was crowded, yes, but it also seemed as though more customers had questions, that more product needed to be stocked.

  “Mr. Payne?”

  Jacob turned back toward the sound of his name. Mr. Towers gestured to him to follow him behind the counter, into the back storeroom. The bounty hunter squeezed in between a man looking at hunting knives and a woman chatting to her friend, and followed the storekeeper.

  The backroom was dimly lit, with no windows, but bright enough for Jacob to see that it was even more chaotic back here than it had been out front. Entire full barrels were tipped over on to one side, stacks of boxes leaned haphazardly and other boxes were open and partially unpacked, as though someone had left in the middle of a task.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Mr. Towers said, gesturing vaguely to the room. “We’ve been … a bit shorthanded lately. As you know.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I visited Benjamin at the jail this morning.”

  “You did?”

  Again, Jacob couldn’t read his expression.

  “Yes, sir. He told me that he was here all day during when the crime was supposed to have taken place. Can you verify that?”

  Mr. Towers let out a long sigh. “You know I already talked to the marshal about this, don’t you? Didn’t he tell you what we said?”

  “Some. Not all. I’m trying to go deeper in the investigation than the marshal went. I’m concerned that not all of the information has come to light.”

  “Well …” Mr. Towers strode away from Jacob through the uneven stacks of boxes and barrels that filled the room. “The day the marshal asked me about—two days ago, right?—Benjamin had been tasked with setting up a display of weapons and ammunition behind the sales counter, but it all had to be sorted first. The shipments we get from back east are just a mess most of the time. That means he was back here by himself most of the day. We came back periodically to find specific things for customers, but he was alone for hours at a time while he sorted through the various gauges and whatnot.”

  “I see.”

  “I wish I could tell you more, Mr. Payne. I don’t like to believe that Benjamin could do a thing like this. We’ve raised him since he was an infant and I had thought he was growing into a fine young man. But …”

  He spread his hands, palms up, helplessly.

  “I see,” Jacob said. “Thank you, Mr. Towers. And if you think of anything else, I’d appreciate it if you let me know.”

  “You or the marshal? Isn’t he the one in charge of this?”

  Jacob paused, not wanting to overstep his bounds, but uncertain of what would happen otherwise. “Both, if possible. Or just me, and I’ll make sure he finds out.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Payne.” He nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Of course. I appreciate your time. I’ll be hanging around a bit longer waiting for Marshal Santos, as a matter of fact.”

  Mr. Towers nodded again curtly and exited the storeroom back out to where the customers were thronging around the sales counter. Jacob followed shortly after and quickly decided it would be better for everyone if he waited for the marshal outside of the store. No sooner had Jacob stepped out into the cold sunny afternoon than he saw the thin frame of Marshal Santos striding toward him.

  “Thought I’d find you here, Payne. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove by going to all this trouble. The kid is already in custody. The case is as final as it’s going to be.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  The marshal glared at him. “I’m going to let that impertinence pass, Payne. You don’t have the faintest idea what you’re dealing with.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  The marshal grunted. “I’m going to go get one of the family to take us to their home where we can search Benjamin’s quarters.”

  Jacob could imagine the conversation going on inside, as the marshal tried to talk one of the Towers family into leaving their post on such a busy day. He didn’t envy the lawman one bit. Every time Jacob thought about settling down and taking a job with less travel and more responsibility, he remembered occasions like this where no matter what the marshal did it would irritate someone.

  The bounty hunter laughed to himself, grateful for the fiftieth time that day that he ruled himself, his own life, and that he had found a woman that supported that.

  The marshal finally exited the general store, leading their guide. Jacob was shocked to realize that it was the same young lady he had seen stacking ammunition behind the sales counter only a few minutes ago. She must have taken over the job Benjamin had started.

  “Payne, you know Elizabeth Towers?” the marshal said. “Miss Towers, this here is Jacob Payne. He’s a bounty hunter, but he’ll be assisting me today if that’s acceptable to you.”

  The girl nodded meekly. She seemed to be about the same age as Benjamin. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. Jacob hadn’t realized that the Towerses had a daughter, let alone one that likely knew their prisoner fairly well.

  “Come with me,” she said, as she led the two men away from the store.

  The Towers family lived only a couple city blocks away from their general store. As they traveled, Elizabeth explained to the two lawmen how her family used to live in the storeroom for the first year after they arrived in the territory.

  “And Benjamin stayed there too?” the marshal clarified.

  “Oh, no. No, Pa had him stay in a tent on the site of where the house is now. Pa was too afraid that someone might come steal our tools or lumber while we slept, so Benjamin stayed to guard it.”

  “He was, what? Ten years old then?” Jacob inquired.

  Elizabeth nodded. “I think so. About that. He and Pa would do the construction work during the day while Ma and I put the store together.”

  “And has Benjamin ever seemed unhappy to you, especially recently? Any reason to suspect he might be trying to get out of town or save up money to make it on his own?”

  The girl remained looking forward when she answered, leading them to the house. “Um, no. No, I don’t— I don’t think so.”

  Just as with the question of Benjamin’s guilt, Jacob felt a sense, an intuition, that there was something else there. Miss Towers knew more than she was saying, but he wasn’t going to press it. Not yet at least.

  They arrived at the family home in that moment. It was a small, one-story cozy home, with a wide front porch that ran almost the full length of the building. Warm and welcoming, even when empty, Jacob thought he himself might like a home like this one day.

  “We’ll just take a cursory look around the house, if that’s all right with you, Miss Towers. But we do need to see where Benjamin sleeps.”

  “Of course. Whatever you need to do. Please let me know when you’re ready to see his bunk. It’s out back, in the shed.”

  The marshal murmured some instructions to Jacob. “We’re looking for the cash still, Payne. It hasn’t been recovered and the most likely possibility is that Benjamin hid it away somewhere and was arrested before he could spend it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You look here,” he gestured around the sitting area, “and I’ll look in the
kitchen.”

  Jacob got right to work. There weren’t many places to hide several hundred dollars in cash in this room, but he would be thorough. He wanted to eliminate all suspicion that Benjamin could have taken the money.

  Jacob carefully removed the half-dozen books that were lined up on the mantel, rifling through the pages looking for loose bills, before replacing them. He checked under all the furniture cushions. He ran his hand along the top of the curtain rod, just in case Benjamin had somehow managed to squirrel away something there.

  Jacob even looked through the small woodpile that stood to one side of the fireplace.

  There was nothing. No cash or anything else hidden in this family’s home.

  And he could tell from the marshal’s expression that he hadn’t found anything either.

  “Well,” Santos said. “I didn’t really expect anything. Seems foolish to put that much money where someone else could find it. Miss Towers, can you show us to where Benjamin sleeps—or I suppose, used to sleep?”

  “Come with me,” she said timidly.

  There was a back door through the kitchen of the home, that took the two men out into the small yard with several outbuildings. Near the farthest corner of the lot was a narrow, windowless shed. From the outside, it looked to be barely big enough for a bed, let alone anything else that a growing boy might need or want.

  “Doesn’t seem like it should take us long to look through this,” the marshal muttered to Jacob.

  “You can go ahead and go in,” Miss Towers told them when they reached the door. “It’s not locked or nothing. I’m going to go back inside. Where it’s warmer.”

  “Thank you, miss,” Santos said. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  He opened the door as wide as it would go—which was only about halfway.

  The marshal swore under his breath. “No wonder she didn’t want to stay here.”

  Without any sunlight to warm the space, the interior of Benjamin’s shed was as cold and dark as a cave. Especially now that they were well into December.

  “No wonder he’s happy to work a lot,” Jacob said. “It must be terrible sleeping in here.”