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

by Hestand, Rita

  Ruby stood at the end of the bar, as two would-be gunfighters were about to draw on each other just a few feet away.

  Both were drunk. Both were boasting of their accomplished draw.

  One was old, haggard, with an overflowing belly. The other was young and cocky, eager for a fight, he stood poised with an elbow on the bar.

  Just as one of them was about to level his gun, Jim knocked it out of his hand with the backend of his rifle. The gunman grunted and let go of his gun, the young man started to draw and fire and Jim shot him on reflex. The man wasn't breathing. Jim looked up at Ruby, to assure himself she was alright, then had a couple of men help him haul the body out.

  The rest of the crowd watched silently, then as soon as they were out of sight, the music began again and everyone started talking at once.

  Jim didn't recognize either man in the fight and he arrested the one with the gun on the floor.

  He put him in a cell in the very back so as not to disturb Rusty and Fred.

  "Sorry about this boys, got a little rowdy over at the saloon." Jim explained.

  "Anyone hurt?" Rusty asked.

  "No…someone's dead though." Jim said matter-of-factly.

  Rusty and Fred looked at each other.

  "Goodnight, everyone, I’m gonna try to get some sleep now…"Jim grit his teeth and closed the door on them all. For once he wanted to shut the world out and just sleep.

  After the long trip to Cross Timbers and back he needed some sleep because the next day was going to be hectic.

  He realized he had walked into the saloon, killed a man and barely looked at Ruby he was that tired. He hoped she'd forgive him this time.

  He laid his head on his pillow and listened to Smitty snore lightly on the other side of the room.

  But it was late before his eyes closed.

  The next morning, before dawn, Smitty had the coffee going and was heating up the place as it had turned cold over-night.

  Jim stretched himself and put on his boots.

  As they both sat half-awake close to the fired up stove they didn't say a word, but cat-napped for a while as their coffee cooled.

  Johnny and Robert came in and helped themselves to the coffee, glancing at the two of them who could hardly keep their eyes open.

  "You heading out again today?" Johnny asked.

  "Yeah, got a lead, gonna check it out." Jim answered, bringing his coffee close to his lips to blow on.

  Johnny nodded. "We'll take care of things."

  "The mayor promised me a week of no riots, I expect him to keep his word. We are leavin' early, so I don't expect anyone to know we are gone. Same rule applies, no visitors for the prisoners."

  Johnny nodded and sipped his coffee. Jim watched him, wondering how he could down coffee that hot.

  Smitty was moving about, getting their gear together and checking on the prisoners. He let Rusty and Fred know they were leaving. Again, he had taken care of all the small mundane things that needed taking care of. Jim numbly decided to thank him and give him a raise. Even if it had to come out of his own pocket. Smitty was worth it.

  In an hour they were headed out.

  "Lead the way Smitty, I'm still half asleep." Jim muttered as he tried to stay warm in his wool jacket. The jacket had once been a fine coat, but after years of working in the saddle and bad weather, the coat was thin and had holes in places. Jim shivered, but maybe that was good because he was gradually waking up.

  "What happened at the saloon last night?" Smitty asked once he saw Jim was awake and alert.

  "Couple of would be gunslingers got after each other. As I was disarming the first one, the second one tried to let loose and I shot and killed him. Sometimes I wonder Smitty if I'm worth having for a Sheriff. Sometimes I just react, not even thinking. The would be gunslinger was a kid. Just a cocky kid. The other one I arrested, he's in the cell in the back."

  "Did you know them?"

  "Nope, strangers. I'll see what I can find out about them when we get back." Jim said as he put his gloves on to keep his hands warmer.

  "Jim, you’re a good lawman. Everyone in town knows that. Melville is peaceful because you do react to any situation. Never doubt that you are doing a good job, for I would tell you if you weren't." Smitty glanced at him with a shy smile.

  Jim saw the serious face and shrugged. "I'm just tired Smitty. Tired of worrying about this crazy person running around killing. Who was next on his list?"

  "I know, but never let them see you sweat." Smitty smiled sympathetically.

  A long silence prevailed until once again Smitty broke it.

  "Sure did turn cold, didn't it?" Smitty shivered. He had a big, long coat on that covered from head to foot and Jim envied him.

  "Yeah, it did…"

  "Want some more coffee I brought some along?" Smitty asked.

  Jim sat up in the saddle now and glanced at his friend. "When did you make this?"

  "This morning, before you got up. I knew you was out pretty late last night so I wanted to have some extra for us while we were on the trail."

  "Sounds good, you bring some cups?"

  "Sure I did. I try to think ahead when I know what we got to do."

  "I know, I can always count on you Smitty, it's comforting. We make a pretty darn good team, you and me."

  Smitty laughed aloud.

  The sun was almost high in the sky by the time they reached the lean-to. Jim felt and heard the stillness in the tree lined area. Dead leaves on the ground make a crackling sound as the horses pushed onward.

  Jim was fully awake, thanks to Smitty's coffee. He slid from his horse and with a frown, he walked around the place, noting the hooks hung from the roof, and the dirty red pan. The counter that shined. This was like some kind of holy shrine for the killer. This is where it all happened, Jim knew it. Like a hundred ghost seemed to crawl the earth around the site.

  A loon mourned the deaths from afar.

  But the knife was still dripping with water when he spotted it.

  "Lookie here, Smitty. He has been here. The knife is still wet."

  Smitty's expression soured, "He's killed someone else, then?"

  "I don't know, maybe…" Jim didn't see a speck of blood but when he ran his gloved hand over the red stained pan, blood leaked onto his hand. "Looks like you are right. We probably should have come out here last night. Dammit, next time I cave in like that, shoot me."

  Smitty nodded. "But I knew you was wore out, that's why I kept quiet."

  "Doesn't matter. I should have been here. I might have caught him red-handed if I'd been here. I wonder who his victim was?" Jim's voice belied the fact that Jim was more than a little depressed that he'd missed his chance.

  "Let's look around here."

  "What exactly we lookin' for?" Smitty asked as he followed Jim out and around the building.

  "I'm not sure. But if this is where he does his deed, then maybe we can find something…"

  They walked for a long while, then just as they were about to turn around and go for their horses, Jim saw something.

  "What the heck is a barrel doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

  Smitty saw it too.

  "I don't know…"

  They moved toward it. Then glanced above them and saw the buzzards circling.

  "What are they doin' here…I don't see a body.

  Jim drew his knife out of his pocket and opened the barrel, and there it was. A nightmare of bones inside, scraped clean. It was arm and leg bones, picked clean as a whistle. But human none the less.

  Jim slammed the lid on the barrel. "Dear God…."

  Smitty shook his head. "I don't get it. It's just bones."

  Jim stared at Smitty as though he'd lost his mind.

  "Yeah, it's the arms and legs of the people he's killed." Smitty nodded.

  "Yeah…but think about it Smitty. It's just the bones. And it's enclosed, with not a bit of meat on those bones. Why?" Jim questioned.

  "Why what? What are you
saying?" Smitty eyed him with a frown.

  "I'm saying where is the flesh that was on those bones?"

  Smitty blinked and then went to throw up.

  When he came back he hung his head. "What did he do with them?"

  "I wish I knew, Smitty. It makes you wonder what we are looking for. Could Elmer have done this? And if he could, why? And how on earth am I going to prove it." Jim hung his head. "I'm too late again. I missed my chance to nab him. A good Sheriff doesn't sleep when he's tired, a good Sheriff follows those leads until he finds something. I could have nabbed him Smitty. And I let him get away."

  Smitty hung his head. "This ain't no ordinary case, Jim. We've been on it for nearly a month. It's almost Thanksgiving and we got no plans. Maybe we should give it a rest until after Thanksgiving."

  "After Thanksgiving is Christmas Smitty. We can't let this lie that long. The circuit judge will be here in a week or two, and we've got to have something solid to give him."

  "Jim," Smitty shook his head slowly. "You've got to face it. This isn't something you are gonna solve tomorrow. Even the best of detectives wouldn't solve it that quickly. We got to just stay on it and eventually we will have the evidence we need to convict. You still thinking it's Elmer?"

  Jim nodded dully. "Yeah, but how am I ever gonna prove it?"

  "We have to keep trying…" Smitty encouraged.

  "Yeah…and right now…we gotta find out who his victim was this time." Jim said lowly.

  The loon resounded against the silent scene of the crime.

  "We found the place…that's something. We have a suspect, that's something too. Now all we gotta do is find the proof." Smitty summed up the situation.

  "Yeah…let's look for some identifying tracks, maybe?"

  "Good start…" Smitty smiled at him and they walked the entire area around the lean-to.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Finding Evidence

  Jim and Smitty hauled the barrel back to town and brought it inside the jail cell to the doc.

  The barrel was heavy and it took both of them to maneuver it.

  Jim uncovered it and let the men look.

  They stared for several minutes without a word between them. Both men grimaced.

  Rusty examined the bones and nodded. "They are human. It looks like you have found the place where everything was done. The bones have been stripped of the human flesh. Did you find them like this?"

  "Yeah…just like this."

  "Then the killer stripped them clean?"

  "Look like."

  Fred asked to see them. He shook his head as he held a finger bone up. "My God, looks almost like a dog gnawed it until it was clean."

  "Do you think that's what happened?" Smitty asked.

  "Nah…I think he deboned them. Why I don't know. But it's cleaner than anything I've ever seen. And he did a good job of it too, see, he didn't break any of the main bones at all. That's a trick. Whoever did this is good, better than me even. I just can't imagine why he'd go to such trouble. What's the purpose? Why didn't he just bury the bones or something?"

  Jim shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe he was in more of a hurry than I thought. Maybe he had some purpose for them. Maybe he thought no one was following and he could as he pleased about it."

  "That's a lot of maybe's Sheriff." Fred shook his head.

  "I know…"

  "Where did you find this?" Rusty asked.

  "In one of the abandoned buildings, on land that actually doesn't belong to anyone now. But it's close enough to the outlying ranches that he could do his deed and return the body to the property in short time."

  "So it's not actually on anyone's land?"

  "Nope, that's probably how he escaped anyone attention for so long. The land he's on, has been abandoned by two parties due to a big dispute. Whether this character knew it or not, he was like in some safe place."

  "Would he have known this prior to his killings?"

  "It's doubtful. I think he must have stumbled upon it, myself."

  Rusty studied the bones carefully. Most of these bones have been picked for some time, except a few…"

  "Yeah…we know. Probably the last victim."

  Rusty threw the bone back into the barrel. "Do you still think it cattle related, Jim?"

  "That we can't be sure about. True there are missing cattle reported at each victim's site. But not enough to cause a stir with the ranchers. I guess they write a certain amount off each year."

  Fred nodded, "Yeah, I think you are right about that. They blame it on wolves or Indians."

  "When we get closer to this, we'll have a better idea. We have noticed there is a gap in between killings. Anywhere from a couple of weeks to three or four weeks. The cattle thieving doesn't always coincide with the killings either. Most of the ranchers have experienced some loss all along. So that's why it's so hard to come to any conclusion on this. Anyway, I'm going to show the mayor too, so he'll hold off on the riots. We'll be releasing you when we get back with the body."

  "What body?"

  "The one he killed last night. This will prove your innocence."

  Fred sighed heavily. "I'm glad…but then…I'm not."

  "Yeah. Me too Fred. But we have got to catch this fool before he strikes again."

  "Were there any other signs of the killing there?" Rusty asked.

  "Yeah, the pan he drained the blood in still had traces of blood in it. The knife he used, which looked almost like some Spaniard's sword was still wet. He's found and killed again, and this time it's fresh, but that doesn't make proving it any easier." Jim said wearily.

  "My God…this is so crazy Jim. I really feel for you and Smitty, it must be so unpleasant to deal with, to worry over." Rusty exclaimed.

  Fred shook his head. "A barrel of bones. Why didn't he just bury them?"

  "I don't know. Unless the time it takes to do as he does with each body doesn't allow him time to actually get rid of everything. He probably thinks he's still very undiscovered too. We were just hours late…" Jim admitted.

  Rusty saw the look of frustration on Jim's face and tried to make him feel better, but nothing would make Jim feel better now. He had come close. He had thought the process out, had that gut feeling and followed it. Just not soon enough. And now he was so weary with his own failure he just wanted to collapse.

  "He's not gonna get away with this…I won't allow it." Jim hammered the cell door with his fist, breaking the skin on his knuckles. He grabbed his hand and held it, as he'd hurt it in the process.

  "I better be going, I've got lots to do…" Jim sighed aggravated at himself. "Let's ride Smitty. We've got to find out who his last victim was…."

  Jim turned and went back to the cells. "The good news is, if there is a new victim, the two of you will be cleared, and I can release you. And there will be no more riots."

  As he walked out again he heard Rusty and Fred sigh heavily. "I guess he's right…" Rusty murmured. "But I almost feel sorry for it too…"

  "Yeah…me too." Fred muttered.

  ~*~

  The mayor saw Jim and Smitty loading up again and came running up to them.

  "Any luck?" He asked as he watched them mount up.

  "Yeah, we found where the killer is operating."

  "Where?" The mayor demanded to know.

  "You know that piece of property between Mr. McCarthy and the Turner place, the one they fought over for years?"

  "Yeah…"

  "That's where. We found fresh blood, a barrel of bones and a wet knife. We weren't far behind him."

  "That's good news I suppose." The mayor adjusted his tie and collar, as though he were suddenly choking.

  "No…it's bad actually." Jim said dully.

  "What do you mean?" The mayor scrunched up his face as the sun hit him directly.

  "It means he just killed again…"

  "Good Lord. You don’t' mean it. Then…the doc and Fred didn't do it?" He muttered lowly.

  "No…they didn't. And I'll be rel
easing them soon…that is if we can find a body."

  The mayor looked guilty. He shook his head, "I was so sure…"

  "Lynch mobs are always sure, Mayor. Until they carry out a hanging and then they sweat the fact that the ones they killed were innocent. Remember that mayor. Stay calm, keep the people calm. This is hard enough to solve without worrying about the citizens here. I'm doing my job, so is Smitty. This case is so unusual, so terribly cruel, and we aren't dealing with a sane man, Mayor."

  "Yes, yes of course you are right. Perhaps I've overlooked a few facts along the way, I apologize."

  "Don't apologize to us." Jim insisted. "Well, I'll release them when I find the body. In the meantime, no more riots, Mayor. We are close…but we haven't caught the one responsible yet. Until we do, we are gonna need a lot of co-operation from everyone. We've got to have some proof before I will bring him in. Since we know where the man is operating, I'm gonna have to find someone to help me watch the place from now on. Maybe we can actually catch him in the act."

  "You want me to gather some men?"

  "No, not yet. I'm going to speak to some of the ranchers. Since they are the targets they should be the most willing to help me catch him. If I can borrow a few here and there, to stake the place out, we might end this soon."

  The mayor nodded. Several of his followers joined him and listened.

  "I'm sorry Jim. I apologize for my behavior. I really thought one of them did this. I misjudged them." The mayor was contrite.

  "Yeah, well, it isn't a usual case. And it's gonna take more time to actually catch him, or prove who done it." Jim explained. "It wasn't your fault. The doc did look like the most likely one. So did Fred. But if you want some advice, I'd apologize to them. Better yet, put a public apology in the paper, so doc and Fred can get their business back."

  The mayor looked up at Jim with new respect. "I'll do that. Don't you worry. I'll take care of that today. Do you have any idea who is doing it? Any idea at all?"

  Jim firmed his lips, wondering if he should say anything right now, but the mayor looked so ashamed he felt he owed him something.