Sky considered his options, hands held readily at his side. Glad I told Jason to stay by the door. He needed to bring Chang in for questioning.
Whether he was guilty or not, it appeared he was trying to hide something.
He could come back with more men to make the arrest, but Chang might be gone by then. On the other hand, Chang had four men strategically located throughout the room—all of them armed. Sky momentarily wished he was wearing his own gun, but since he had given up law he had quit wearing it. His only weapon was the knife strapped to his hip.
One other thing worried him. Jason. He was wearing a gun. His cousin made no effort to hide his dislike of anyone of Chinese descent and Sky feared he might use this situation as an opportunity to carry out his vendetta against them. Especially Chang, whom he blamed for the death of his mother. Sky didn’t want anyone innocent getting shot for moving too quickly or at the wrong time.
Suddenly deciding that the direct approach best suited the situation, Sky, his voice loud and clear, said, “Chang, you’re under arrest.” Just as he’d anticipated, Chang’s four henchmen scrambled to their feet. But Chang held up one fleshy hand, palm out, tapping the air twice.
“For what am I under arrest, Mr. Jordan?”
“You are trying to hide something, Mr. Chang. I am not saying you are guilty of murder, but you lied to me about the reason for the celebration last night. I know it was not your wife’s birthday yesterday.”
Angry, Chang’s eyes narrowed, his mouth hardening into a firm line. His smoking pipe, held in a tight-fisted grip, shook perceptibly. “You are right, Mr. Jordan. But we were unable to have the celebration on her actual birthday, so we had it a little late. Better late than never. You know how the saying goes.” He tried to smile casually, his voice surprisingly controlled despite the anger that radiated from his eyes.
Sky hesitated. Chang might be telling the truth; he couldn’t let his dislike of the man cloud his good reasoning. “All right, I’ll check into it. But don’t go anywhere, Chang. You are not to leave town until your name is cleared. Do you understand?”
Chang’s eyes darkened, but he nodded in affirmation.
Brooke’s hands shook as she and Jenny Chang sewed Fraser’s body into a large piece of black denim. They worked in the front room of Jed’s boarding house. I’ll never see this room in the same light again. She felt nauseated and light-headed, but she kept sewing. They were almost done now, but she could still see the poor man’s battered body as it had been when Sky and Jed carried him in on a blanket. A shudder ran through her. How could anyone do such a thing to another human being? And Percival had been involved in this somehow.
She felt edgy and jumped at even the slightest noise, making Jenny look at her oddly.
Jenny Chang had been very quiet as they worked side by side. Her dark eyes, though sorrowful, did not shed a tear. She merely pressed on steadily, doing the work that needed to be done.
Brooke was the first to break the silence. “Did you know him well, Jenny?” Chagrined, she noted that her voice trembled when she spoke.
“Mistah Fraser?” A sad smile softened Jenny’s face. “He good man. He always kind to me.”
“How long had he lived here?”
“Long time. Lee and I, we come twenty-three years ago. He here before us.”
“Does he have any family?”
“His wife die. He have a daughter. She come to visit him sometimes.”
“Where does she live?”
“She staying in Lewiston with a Judge Rand. She go to school there. She fifteen, I think.”
Brooke immediately felt her heart go out to this young girl. She herself had been fifteen when her parents and sister had been killed. Memories rushed in on a surge of emotion and Brooke gasped, choking back a flood of tears. The memories added on top of this morning’s terror proved too much for her.
Turning, she fled back to her room, throwing herself across the bed, sobs wracking her body. She jumped up again just as suddenly and threw the door’s deadbolt into place.
Backing toward the bed she sat down with her back to the wall and her arms wrapped around her knees. She had begun to feel safe with Sky, but she should have known better. Somehow God had it in for her, and she didn’t think she would ever feel safe again.
She scrubbed angrily at the tears coursing down her face. It seemed all she did lately was cry.
Sky paused to let his eyes adjust to the bright outdoor light as he exited the Joss house. He stood for a moment, hands resting on hips, staring up and down the street, trying to decide what to do next. Sunlight glistened off the quickly melting snow as he turned to Jason. “I hate to send you down to Lewiston with no more information than we have, but if we are going to get this thing solved, we are going to need some outside assistance.”
Jason’s face clearly portrayed his anger. “I’ll tell you how to solve this thing. We both know who is responsible. We should just take him out.” He nodded back in the direction of the Joss house and Lee Chang.
His eyes never leaving Jason’s face, Sky replied in a measured voice, “And if we took the law into our own hands we would be no better than him. If it was him that did it.” He paused, one hand rubbing over his unshaven jaw. “Brooke saw a man in the alley last night.” He pulled a paper from his vest pocket and handed it to Jason. “I wrote down his description. See what you can find out about him.”
Jason nodded.
Another thought hit Sky, and he gave Jason a sympathetic look. “You’ll have to find Fraser’s daughter, Alice. She is staying with the Rand family in Lewiston. We’ll bring the body down as soon as we can, probably tomorrow, maybe Saturday, but she should be told as soon as possible.” Sky didn’t envy Jason the terrible responsibility.
“Should we send a telegram?”
“I thought of that, but I don’t know. I thought it seemed a little cold and impersonal. But...” Sky shrugged. “What do you think?”
Jason thought for only a moment. “You’re right. I’ll tell her when I get there.” The look on his face showed that he did not look forward to the task. Sky let one hand fall to rest on his cousin’s shoulder, amazement filling him once again at Jason’s ability to about-face in his temperament so quickly. He had been coldly angry only moments ago and now he felt tender sympathy to the point of having to blink back tears.
Sky prayed the Lord would use this situation to reach him as they walked down the street toward Jed’s boarding house. Bill Currey, leading three fresh horses, met them just in front of the boarding house. Sky noticed that his hands shook badly as he handed the reins of the lead horse over to Jason. Bill had brought extra horses so Jason could swap his saddle from one animal to the next when the horse he rode tired out. Without a rider, even though the animal had to trail behind, it soon got its wind back. In this way, a man could almost cut his traveling time in half.
Jason nodded. “Thanks, Bill.”
“Sure. For ol’ Fraser I’d do just ‘bout—” He stopped short, rubbing shaky hands across his face. “I need me a drink.”
Jason clapped him on the shoulder before he mounted the saddle. “You’ll be glad you stayed away from the booze when this is over, Bill. It’s going to be the trial of the century, and you’ll want to be able to remember everything that happened.”
Bill gave a snort and waved him off with a quavery hand.
Jason threw Sky a grin as he swung into the saddle. And Sky reminded, “You’re going to have to exercise some self-control yourself these next couple of days.”
The smile left Jason’s face and he stared in thoughtfulness at the pommel of the saddle for a moment. Then, the leads of the two extra horses in one hand, he nodded in Sky’s direction and urged his mount forward.
As Sky watched Jason ride out of town, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned. Jed propelled an obviously terrified Chinaman down the sodden, muddy street in front of him. The young man held his hands wide at shoulder height, palms out, as Jed k
ept poking him in the ribs with a mean-looking 44 caliber, long-barreled pistol.
“What’s going on, Jed?”
“Thought you should see this here fella fer a minute. Carle was skirtin’ out at the edge o’ town like you said when he come upon him trying to hide hisself behind a bush. Take a look at this here,” he drawled. He pulled the man’s shirt away from his body. “That’s blood if ever I saw it.”
Sky let his eyes drop from studying the face of the terrified young man to the large brown patch of crusted shirt that Jed held out. Anger surged through him at the sight of the blood. The thought that this could be the man who had done such a despicable thing to Fraser clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath to calm himself and forced his hands to relax. Jed calmly held the gun on the trembling youth, waiting for Sky’s response.
Sky turned back to the young man. “How did this blood get on your shirt?”
“I-I-I...” He stuttered to a halt shaking his head, fear radiating from his eyes.
“Were you in Fraser’s Mercantile last night after it closed?” The man shook his head. “No.”
“Did you kill Fraser?”
“No.” Again the shake of the head, but Sky heard fear in the man’s voice that made him wonder if he was telling the truth.
“How did this blood get on your shirt?”
“I-I-I...,” he started stuttering again, but when his eyes met Sky’s stare, he came to a lame halt. His hands, still at shoulder height, rose a little higher as he gave a slight shrug, turning his palms to the sky. “I kill pig two day past.” He shrugged again. “Maybe happen when I kill pig. I not know how blood came to be on me.”
His eyes never leaving the man’s face Sky reached down and pulled his knife from its sheath around his waist.
The Chinaman’s eyes widened. “No! Please. I not know how blood got there. I speak truth.”
Sky had wanted to see what the man’s reaction would be and he was not satisfied. The man was truly terrified. This didn’t help him because the man’s fear could be interpreted several different ways. The man might be innocent and petrified that he was about to be arrested for a crime he didn’t commit. On the other hand he might have committed the murder and now was honestly frightened that he would be found out.
Sky stood for a moment, the knife held casually by his side, studying the face of the Chinaman whose terrified eyes were locked on the glinting blade.
With sudden swiftness Sky reached out and grasped the bloody part of the man’s shirt. The man squeezed his eyes shut in fear, and Sky paused momentarily, realizing the man thought he was going to stab him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as with one smooth stroke he sliced a bloodstained piece off of the shirt to be sent in for testing. “What is your name?”
“Ping Chi.”
Turning to Jed, Sky said, “Lock him up.”
Jed prodded Ping in the direction of the courthouse with the barrel of his gun as he said, “Gaffney found some s’picious prints in the alley ’tween Fraser’s and my place.”
Sky stood, fingering the blood-encrusted piece of material for a moment before he turned toward the alley between the boarding house and the Mercantile. During the rains the night before the ground in the alley had become soft and muddy. The snow that had covered the ground earlier that morning had melted and Sky could clearly see the set of footprints.
He frowned. These footprints were little; barely over half the size of his own tracks and close together, indicating a person small in stature. The heel of the right boot had a crack across it.
Sky’s heart lurched in his chest as he realized he’d seen these tracks before. They were the same ones he had found in the barnyard on the day Brooke had gone to pick berries.
Sky glanced up at the window of their room speculatively. He stood thinking for a long moment before he turned back to study the tracks again.
He saw where the man had squatted behind a wooden barrel and then the tracks showed that he had turned and headed back down the alley toward the outskirts of town.
Brooke said she had seen the Mountain Man from the stage. He vaguely remembered the rugged man who had gotten off the stage that day with Brooke. His mind had been preoccupied with Brooke. But he did remember one thing. That man had been anything but small.
Brooke sat in a daze, unable to think of anything but the murder. Now another fifteen-year-old girl had no family. Terror pounded through her veins. She knew information that might help solve this crime but could not share it for fear of her life and Sky’s.
She wondered what would happen to the girl now. Who would take care of her? Would she be sent to live with one of her uncles? The very thought sent a new pulse of terror through Brooke’s body. Surely she owed it to the girl to help find her father’s killer. Could she do any less? But then Percival Hunter’s terrifying face swam before her eyes and she heard his threats repeated over and over. I could never do anything that would bring harm to Sky.
Percival had seemed so kind—so harmless—on the coach coming up from Lewiston. She shivered.
At a knock on the door she gasped, startled upright by the sound. “Who is it?” she called with a shaking voice.
“It’s me, Sky.”
She climbed slowly off the bed, pausing to eye herself in the mirror. She had quit crying, but her eyes were still swollen and puffy. Running fingers through her tangled hair, she moved to the door, pulled back the lock, and opened it.
“You all right?” he asked, eyeing her disheveled appearance.
She chose the safest topic of conversation. “He had a daughter, you know. She is fifteen.”
“Yes, I know.”
Brooke made no comment to this, only lay down on the bed. Turning on her side, her back to him, she tucked her hands under one cheek and stared at a knot on the wall.
After a long pause, Sky said, “We will be going to Lewiston early tomorrow morning. I want you to come with us.”
She turned and looked at him, a question in her eyes. “I can stay out at the farm. I will be fine.” But even as she said the word, she knew she wouldn’t be fine. Not ever again.
Sky fingered his black Stetson. “I would feel better if you were with me, and I knew you were safe. I don’t feel right about leaving you here when there could be a murderer loose somewhere.”
Brooke trembled as his words drove home. Did he somehow know she was holding out on him? That she had not told him the truth about the man in the alley? She tried to read his face.
No suspicion filled his eyes. She sighed in relief before turning back to the knot on the wall. She could feel the warmth of his gaze on her back as he waited for her response. Shrugging, she nodded, indicating consent. If he wanted her to accompany him, she would. She knew she would feel much safer with him than if she stayed out at the farm by herself.
13
Brooke sat in the pew, quietly taking in the scene around her. When was the last time I sat in a church? The Sunday before Mama and Daddy died, I guess. Sky sat next to her, his hat hanging from one knee. Head bowed, he had his hands clasped between his knees, and Brooke could tell he was struggling to harness his emotions.
Little groups of people turned in their pews, talking quietly among themselves. Brooke could imagine the gist of their conversations by their facial expressions and hand signals. “Who would do such a thing to such a fine man?” or, “That poor young child. What do you suppose she is going to do with herself now that her pa is gone?”
Brooke’s eyes fell on a group of surly-looking men toward the back on the other side of the church. Their conversation was punctuated with gestures that lent a sinister air to their invented dialogue. “Justice needs to be served here. We won’t stop looking for those killers until we find them! And when we do, they’re going to wish that they never laid a hand on Fraser.”
Sky had shared with her last night when they arrived in Lewiston that, unfortunately, many men were already convinced this crime could not have been committed by anyo
ne but a group of Chinese. Already, talk of vigilante “justice” circulated. Sky feared the trial in Pierce City would merely be an excuse for revenge.
Suddenly Brooke froze. Her eyes riveted to a man who sat discretely in the back corner of the church. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, but he looked like the mountain man she had met on the stage except he was dressed impeccably. He wore a black suit with a string tie resting on the front of a crisp white shirt. His hair and beard were clean and neatly combed. No tobacco juice stained his beard. Brooke blinked, looked away, then looked back again. It was him—the mountain man cleaned up! It had to be. What was he doing here? And why had Percival insisted she say it was him she had seen in the alley that night?
She laid a hand on Sky’s sleeve, her eyes never leaving the face of the mountain man at the back of the room. Sky turned to her, then his gaze followed hers and came to rest on the bearded man seated in the darkened corner. Before either Brooke or Sky could turn back around, he glanced their way and their eyes met. No one smiled, but the burly man dipped his head in silent acknowledgment. He recognized them. Sky repeated the gesture, eyes wary, as he and Brooke turned to face the front. Brooke did not take her hand off Sky’s arm. Somehow this small point of contact gave her warm comfort.
Sky laid his hand over Brooke’s and squeezed gently. His thoughts turned back to the mountain man in the corner of the room. What was he doing here? Why had he been in Pierce City that night? Had it really been him Brooke saw in the alley on that dark rainy night?
He cast a glance at Brooke. She was withholding something; he could feel it. The more he thought about the morning after the murder when he had come in to tell Brooke of Fraser’s death the more he knew something must have happened to her during the time he had been gone to the Mercantile.
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