Good Day for a Hanging (Book Two of the Western Serial Killers series)

by Hestand, Rita

  As they rode into the clearing, he understood why. Buzzards were circling not far from them. When buzzards circled like that it meant only one thing. Death.

  He pointed to them.

  Then he put his horse in full gallop until he got to the general area.

  For a minute there was nothing, and then suddenly, he saw two figures near the fence lines.

  They were very still figures. They weren't moving either. Had they heard them ride up, they would have turned around. They hadn't moved. The hair on the back of Jim's neck stood up, alerting him to trouble.

  Jim had a gut feeling, a feeling he was quickly growing tired of.

  He and Rusty moved toward the fence. At first glance it looked like two men facing the other direction against the fence, but as they neared them, it was plain these men were not alive.

  Dismounting, Jim ran to one of them and as he would have turned him around, the body fell to the ground. And there, staring up at him was a scarecrow face of one of the men. The face was rotting and bugs were congregating in the nose and mouth. The smell caused the doc to back off.

  Gagging.

  "That's Orville…" The doc shook his head as he bent to examine him, and then realized there were no arms, nor legs.

  Jim pulled the other man from the fence and sure enough he was just like Mr. Perkins had been. No arms, no legs, just a body, and dressed like scarecrows, hung on the fence line.

  Rusty cringed and looked away for a minute, obviously composing himself.

  Even a doctor could get queasy, Jim noted.

  He stared at them as though they weren't real anymore.

  "What kind of damn monster does this?" Jim suddenly asked.

  "A crazy one…I guess." Rusty muttered as he began to examine them.

  "Let's take them back to town and you'll have to do an autopsy on them too. I need something concrete to say killed them."

  "Of course."

  It took them nearly an hour to move the bodies, tie them onto one horse and then they doubled back to the ranch. All the while, the bodies flopped against the saddle, making a noise Jim couldn't quite get it out of his mind. It was an unnatural sound.

  The bodies were wrapped in blankets now and looked mighty strange as they rode into town the back way.

  As he dismounted he shook his head. "I can understand them killin' Mr. Perkins, after all, even though his ranch house isn't much, his cattle are prime and he has a lot of them by roundup time. But these men…why would the killer bother with them? What importance were they?"

  Rusty bowed his head, and then raised his glance up. "Maybe they saw it all happen?"

  "Now there's an intelligent statement. No witnesses. That makes sense." Jim nodded. "Sometimes you are too close to the answers to see it. Doc I think you got potential as a Sheriff."

  Despite himself, the doc almost chuckled.

  "After what I've seen the last few days I think I will pass that opportunity up."

  They didn't stop at the ranch, they rode on, a little faster than usual, feeling that same creepy feeling moving in on them.

  Chapter Four

  New Victims

  Smitty and the others came running toward them as they hit town and shook their heads with disbelief when they realized what they were carrying with them.

  "Them too?" Smitty cried, seeing the bulging blankets.

  "Looks like."

  "Doc, will you take them. I'll be over there tomorrow. Right now I gotta warn some ranchers of the dangers."

  "Alright."

  "Want me to come?" Smitty asked, as he helped Rusty with the bodies.

  "Yeah, but let these two stay here. I'm deputizing you fellas, until I get back. Keep your eyes and ears open. And don't be spreading this around. We didn't come into town the back way for nothing."

  He looked at Johnny Rodriguez and Robert Stout, two men he had come to rely on during hectic times. Johnny was a hot head, but he was stubborn too and Jim knew he needed someone like him to control things when he wasn't around. Johnny had qualities that Jim looked for in deputies. Being half Spanish he came in handy when Jim needed a translator too. Robert was not good as a loner, but when paired with a man like Johnny he could handle almost anything that came up. He guessed Robert felt there was safety in numbers. Although Robert was a small and wiry built man, he was good with a gun, and more level headed than Johnny.

  He told them to raise their right hands, and swore them in, then pulled two badges out of his coat pocket and threw them at them. The men nodded, talking among themselves.

  "Let me know if anything happens around here, when I get back. I want you two to hang around for a while, unless you got work to be done."

  Johnny nodded, "Not much work to be found until roundup time, Sheriff."

  "Good. Keep the badges. Right now I need you men and I know I can count on you."

  They waved.

  Smitty helped the doc, and some others gathered to help him carry them to his office. Then he returned to the stables to get his horse.

  They went to the Curtis ranch first. Mr. Curtis had been ranching since he moved here from Colorado and he had a rather large family. Jim hated having to scare the wives, but he felt if he didn't, it could be too late.

  "Mr. Curtis, we've had some killings in the area. And I wanted to let you know to keep your gun handy and be on the lookout for strangers. Or anyone acting strange."

  "Who'd they kill?" Mr. Curtis asked, his face a mask of concern.

  "Mr. Perkins and his two hands, Orville and Bull."

  "You don't mean it? What fer?"

  "Mr. Curtis, these weren't regular killings."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, whoever did this was very sick in the head. Off their nut." Jim affirmed.

  Mr. Curtis shook his head. "I'm sorry about this. Perkins was a good man and his two hands too. But you know I got a big family. You think they got it in for ranchers? Do ya?"

  "Could be. I don't rightly know yet. I don't have enough to go on to say. But I wanted to warn you just the same."

  "Maybe I should send Martha and the kids into town until things settle out. She's got a sister lives closer to town. You think she'd be safer there?"

  Jim thought about it and nodded, "Yes sir I do. And a lot less for you to worry about."

  "Then we'll pack up and I'll drive them over myself. I got four boys that are near grown; they can stay with me until you figure out who is doing this. The girls need to be with their mother."

  "Good idea. Tell your boys to keep a gun on them, as we have no idea who did this."

  "Alright, thanks for letting me know, Jim."

  "You bet. Get them moved as soon as you can, and keep your eyes open. Are you missing any cattle?"

  Mr. Curtis scratched his head. "A while back I was. But I never caught who done it. It wasn't enough to get excited about, so I just figured maybe the Indians stole some, or a wolf, somewhere. Never found no tracks, but like I say, it wasn't enough to worry over."

  "Then, be careful. Mr. Perkins was missing cattle when this happened. Whoever did this doesn't shoot people. Or even knife them. So…just be careful."

  "You spookin' me Jim. But, I'll do that for sure."

  Smitty looked at him as they rode out. "You don't think this killer would hurt a woman, do you?"

  "I don't know. Right now, I have no idea why he killed Mr. Perkins, much less who he might kill next. But I just got a gut feeling; he's after ranchers for some reason."

  "There are about ten big ranches around these parts. We gonna talk to all of them." Smitty asked as they took off to the west.

  "Yep, as fast as we can."

  "You think we should split up and talk to them, get done faster that way?" Smitty asked.

  "I don't want to split up, Smitty."

  The way he said that had Smitty looking at him.

  "It's got you spooked too, doesn't it?"

  "I'd be a fool not to be just a little afraid of all of this. After all, we don't know w
ho or what we are lookin' for."

  Smitty nodded. "That's a fact."

  It was getting dark by the time they got to the Turner place. Joe Turner greeted them outside with a hardy hand shake and then stood there listening to the news with a furrowed brow.

  But Turner was an unemotional kind of man most of the time and he just listened and nodded. Turner was tall, thin, and bent at the shoulders as though used to having to stoop to get in doorways. "Sheriff, get down and ya'll come on in and have some supper. It's late, and you don't need to be travelin' this late. You can get a good head start at dawn." Turner insisted.

  "Thanks Joe sounds good to me." Jim motioned to Smitty.

  Mr. Turner had a wife that could cook anything and make it taste good. She had a roast on the table and didn't hesitate to invite them to sit down and share it. Jim and Smitty were grateful. Mrs. Turner was so opposite her husband the comparison was glaring, short, round and jolly described her.

  "Got a killer loose Mama, Jim and Smitty are after them."

  "I'll swan, who got kilt?" She asked.

  "Perkins and his hands."

  "Do tell…" The woman's mouth hung open. "Poor fella."

  Jim wasn't about to tell the gory details to a woman with three kids sitting at the table.

  Half way through the meal he glanced at Mr. Turner. "I think you should move your wife and kids into town until this is over."

  Turner considered his words.

  "Alright, if you think that's necessary. I'll send them by wagon in the morning. I got four hands out here that will help me, and we'll lay low for a while, see if this settles down some. She and the kids can stay with my brother and his wife."

  "That's right, your brother runs the feed store, doesn't he?"

  "Yep, been doin' pretty good fer himself. I'm sure he could use a little help."

  "Well, I think moving them would be a good idea. I'm not sure who or what we are looking for."

  "You mean to tell me you don't even know where to start lookin'?" Mrs. Turner asked, glancing at her children now.

  "No ma'am, we don't. But moving you into town would ease your husband's worry for you and the kids. I'll be notifying all the ranchers around."

  "Is the killer after ranchers?"

  "We don't know that either. But Mr. Perkins was a rancher, and there is some unrest these days about the locals not having enough beef and the ranchers selling elsewhere."

  "We gotta eat, Sheriff."

  "Yes sir, I'm aware of that."

  "People in these parts don't want to pay much. So we find better buyers."

  "I totally understand it from a business point of view, but it doesn't make you many friends."

  "I ain't in the cow business to make friends, Sheriff."

  "Yeah…neither was Perkins."

  Smitty wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Good vitals, ma'am."

  "Thank you Smitty." She smiled.

  "I told the Sheriff that he and Smitty could stay with us tonight, and move out early morning."

  "I'll go and fix up a bed for them." She nodded.

  The men talked into the night and Jim saw the concern on Mrs. Turner's face as the firelight flickered on her. She had put the kids to bed as soon as supper was over and she read them a story. Her children were still pretty small and he'd hate to see anything happen to them.

  "Tell me Turner, has there been any ruckus about ranchin' in this area? I mean something someone might get riled about? Heard anyone arguing?"

  Turner scratched his head a minute then glanced at him. "Well, not a ruckus. No. There is always mumblings and grumbling when a rancher changes buyers, or when there's any problems with the beef. Some of us have quit sellin' local though, as I done said. And…people don't like that. It just don't pay as much anymore and we got to eat just like everyone else. We can't make a livin' on three dollars a head, you know."

  There was a silence in the room. "You figure that's what this is about?" He asked.

  "Maybe. But I can't prove anything. Not yet anyway. You see these killings seem to be grudge killings."

  "Why you say that?"

  He waited for Mrs. Turner to turn in before he explained.

  "Whoever is doing it dismembers the bodies."

  Turner turned a little green around the mouth. "You don't say. Butchers them, does he?"

  "Yeah…I guess that's the word for it. I'd suspect Indians but there hasn't been any trouble with them in a long time. Although I might ride out to the fort and see what they say out there." Jim filed that word in the back of his head for later. Butchers. How many did he know? But then a lot of cattlemen were butchers too. Someone could have been jealous of Mr. Perkins making so much on his beeves.

  "I appreciate you tellin' me this. And I'll get my wife to safety as fast as I can."

  "Good. Now tell me, have you noticed any cattle gone lately?"

  "Not lately, a while back, two or three months ago, I did. A handful at most, I didn't report it, because I figured it might stir trouble up. Besides, I couldn't be for certain that the wolves didn't get 'em. At the time I could spare them. Why? We'd just finished rounding up strays."

  "Because almost everyone we have talked to had some thieving going on to some extent. I don't know if that has a thing to do with anything, but I'm trying to figure some angle for the killer."

  "Well…"Mr. Turner twisted his head, as though thinking about something, then blurted out. "'Bout a month ago we had this meetin'. The cattlemen. Talkin' about the thievin' that was goin' on. Weren't that big a problem, but you know how Perkins hated to lose one cow. Perkins was hit the hardest. We figured we might go after them ourselves since it involved cattle and not people. But no one was enthusiastic about it, so we didn't do nothin'. Like I said no one got hit very hard except Perkins."

  Jim felt he was not doing his job correctly. He should have some ideas about all of this, but for the life of him he couldn't believe anyone in his town would butcher three men and hang them for a few head here and there. And the petty cattle thieves didn't seem important. All ranchers lost a few head now and then. Sometimes it was wolves, sometimes thieves but if it was such a small amount, it seemed unimportant at the moment.

  He knew the Indians on the reservations up north raided ranches to steal a few to eat, and that could have been what happened. They wouldn't make a noise nor steal too many as they'd have to deal with the ranchers themselves. But Indians might dismember the bodies. Still, he'd never seen any of them drain the blood, nor split their throat and sew it back up.

  When they all went to bed, he wrestled with ideas in his head, but nothing proved substantial enough to go on.

  The one thing he knew is that murderers most of the time messed up somewhere down the line and they were caught. But if he waited for that a lot more might die.

  He had to catch whoever was doing this and fast before he killed again.

  Chapter Five

  Miss Ruby

  Two days later Jim was sitting in the saloon mulling over the facts with Miss Ruby. It was the first day he let himself relax a little.

  He glanced around the saloon, smiling at the old war relic hung above the bar, it belonged to Captain Melville.

  The bar was long and made of oak, fine glasses hung behind the bartender, hardly ever used.

  An old piano was being mistreated by a customer, but no one seemed to care.

  Ruby was a red head, with lots of curly hair, and had the warmest brown eyes he'd ever seen. She also kissed like an angel, and smelled like heaven itself. Jim was crazy about her. He'd do anything for her. Everyone in town knew he was sweet on her, and kept their distance from her, except for drinks or dances at the saloon.

  "This one really has got you, doesn't it?" Ruby reached for his hand across the table, her brows knitting with concern. She rarely touched him in public but he was glad of it, this time. Just the touch of her hand on his gave him strength.

  "I've got to catch them before they do any more harm. And before thi
s town breaks wide open with panic. I can feel it building already."

  "They? You think there is more than one?"

  "I don't know. But the place is too clean. Way to clean. It would take someone who knew how to clean, who knew how to cut through bones, and who knew how and when to catch his victim. Where do you start looking for someone like that, Ruby?" He took her hand and squeezed it.

  "I don't know. But I do know you will figure this out. I know you can do anything you set your mind to, Jim."

  He smiled crookedly at her as a sensuous glance passed between them. "You have that much confidence in me?"

  "And more." She grinned. "You know it sounds to me like he'd almost have to be a doctor."

  "Not you too?" He frowned. He gave her a long lazy appraisal.

  "What do you mean, 'me too'." She glanced at him with those whiskey colored eyes.

  "Several have come and talked to me about the doc. They are starting to draw their own conclusions. A lot of people are convinced he's the only one that could have done it. You know the dismembering and all. I wonder if he's lost any business because of this."

  "I can't say as I blame them, he is the most logical person to be able to do something like that. But he seems so nice."

  "He is nice. And he's been a big help to me, so far I don't believe the doc did this, and I'll tell you why. I was out there when he first saw Mr. Perkins, even he was squeamish when he saw him. And not a one of those men saw him, I had to point him out to everyone, just like Smitty had to point him out to me. If any of them had looked straight at the scarecrow, or had pointed him out to us, I would have them under suspicion, but not a one had a clue." Jim stared at her for a long moment. "But if things keep going the way they are I might have to put the doc in jail to keep the town from hanging him."