Sentinels

by Matt Manochio

  “You aren’t stupid and neither am I. Someone accuses me of stealing a corpse, I’m getting angry, dumbfounded even, that someone might suggest such a thing.”

  “I’ve learned to channel whatever outward aggression might otherwise consume me. When you been through what I’ve been through, it takes a lot more than some baseless threat to get my dander up.”

  “You trying to spook Diggs? Let him know you ain’t messing around and to stay away? Like, ‘Here’s what might happen to you—I’ll burn you to a crisp.’ Is that the message?”

  “Noah, my wife and child, along with myself, are the only ones who live here. And if you think I’d risk my life—and theirs—to somehow rob a grave, or whatever, then you’re not as bright as I thought you were.”

  “You didn’t do it yourself. Who’s working for you? Some of the freedmen in town? How much you paying them to do this? I like you, Toby. Really, I do. I’m trying to help you here, let you know that you don’t have to go fighting some war against some greedy snake who’ll kill you if he can’t buy you.” Noah stood five feet from Toby, both staring each other down in a way that might seem hostile to those who believed the two had just met in a bar and might come to blows. “I know Diggs has been investigating your property. Before I came here I let myself into town hall. Diggs has been pulling your land records. And you know this.”

  “Not that he went to town hall and snooped in my shit, but of course I know he’s got eyes on me. Told me so himself, and I said no.”

  “Clearly that ain’t stopping him. And if you were complicit in sending out freedmen to kill those bigots, soldiers and Sheriff Cole, then Toby, you’re looking at a noose, and not one held by a Klansman.”

  “I told you in town that day, I don’t know a goddamn thing about who killed Cole!” Toby hissed it at Noah, and glanced sideways toward the house, feeling his wife’s stares from within.

  “Then how about those butchered men? You know a goddamn thing about any of them?”

  “Even if I did, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  Noah felt a chill and stepped back. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Toby stayed silent.

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you?” Noah persisted.

  Toby eyes changed, as if he’d suddenly become aware of something, and he began surveying his property. Eventually he settled on his home.

  “I have to go inside for a second.” Toby pointed to his wife waving for him through an opened window.

  “We’re not done here,” Noah said as Toby walked toward his home—but Jenkins stopped.

  “Honey, I’ll be inside in a minute,” he called to Sarah. “I gotta get something from the barn.”

  “Might that be a few dead mice? Care of a new cat?” Noah couldn’t help it.

  Toby looked over his shoulder. “I won’t be in the barn but for a moment or two. Entrance to my ice house is in there. Think I left it open. But I probably’ll be in my house a while, Noah. It might have something to do with little Isaac. I think it’s my turn to change him—can’t back out of that, you’ll learn. You’re welcome to stay. Like you said, we’re not done here.”

  “Yeah, fine. Can I use your outhouse?” Noah spied the simple wooden structure set about one-hundred feet back from the right side of the house.

  “Be my guest. Just dug a new hole and moved it the other day. Smell ain’t bad at all. You should’ve been around the old one during the heat wave.” Toby chuckled and walked away.

  “Thanks,” Noah said flatly. He watched Toby open the barn and go inside. A few minutes went by before he heard a heavy door slam shut. Toby emerged from the barn, shut it, and went into his house. Satisfied Toby wasn’t up to something, Noah ambled to the slim, seven-foot-tall building with the profile of a crescent moon carved in the top of the door and entered to do his business.

  “What are you going to tell him?” Sarah Jenkins had just laid Isaac down for an afternoon nap and sat at the kitchen table waiting for her husband’s reply.

  “Thanks for bailing me out.” Toby stood before his wife. “It’s nice to have a breather. I can handle one deputy snooping around. I’m just glad there’s not a whole posse of them out there. I’d be getting nervous.”

  “This ain’t funny. I saw the way you two were talking. He’s on to you. That means he’s on to us. I don’t think he’s gonna let go.”

  “There’s nothing linking us to any of those murders.”

  Sarah sprang to her feet. “How can you say that?! Earlier this day you literally unleashed the same bunch of—”

  “They’ve been here for years, honey. Never once been discovered, no one’s so much as sniffed ’em.”

  Sarah folded her arms across her chest, clearly displeased. And then she grew pensive.

  “What were you doing in the barn, Toby?”

  “You know what. Getting ready for the reckoning.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Toby heard a knock at the door, but not the back one.

  “Noah? You should’ve stayed out back,” Toby called while walking through the kitchen and sitting room. He opened the front door.

  “Hi there, nigger.” Standing outside, his LeMat aimed at Toby’s forehead, Lyle Kimbrell smirked. “Step back.”

  Franklin, standing behind Lyle, barged into the house and made for the kitchen. He saw from the outside where Sarah Jenkins had been speaking to her husband and was quick enough so that she couldn’t arm herself.

  “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be, ma’am.” Franklin, his hand gripping her bicep like a vise, led her to the sitting room where Toby, his palms raised, waited for her.

  Lyle never once looked away from Toby. “I will blow both your fuckin’ brains out if you so much as twitch. Just do as I say. Understand?”

  Sarah Jenkins, shocked, silently nodded. Toby only stared.

  “Go outside, Franklin. Tell the boss to come on down.”

  The big man bounded out of the house up to the road.

  “Now, why don’t you both go have a seat on the sofa?” Lyle repeatedly flicked the point of his gun toward the two-seater. “Just go slow-like.”

  The two did, both thinking of their baby boy sleeping upstairs.

  “Should’ve done this the first time, just come right up to the front door and knocked.” Lyle’s voice took on a mocking tone. “All that fucking around, hiding and shit, what good did it do us the first time?”

  “Just get it over with,” Toby said. “What are you waiting for?”

  Sarah’s eyes bulged and she looked at him in disbelief.

  “Honey, what the hell?”

  “You knew this day would come,” Toby said, looking at Lyle. “I just didn’t know it’d be today.”

  “Why you so eager, boy?” Lyle spit tobacco on the Oriental rug. “Maybe my boss is feeling beneficent today.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Franklin was right, boy. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. It ain’t looking good for you now, but my boss very well might think of a way for you to continue caring for that piece of shit you got sleeping upstairs.”

  Toby clenched his fists and began to rise.

  “Uh-uh-uh, slow down, boy.” Lyle grinning wide, hitting a nerve, cocked his gun and stretched his arm out to Toby’s head, the gun’s point barely touching his flesh. “Let’s think about what we’re about to do. I wouldn’t want to see your brains wind up all over your wife’s pretty face.”

  Mid-crouch, Toby retreated and sat back down.

  “That’s more like it.” Lyle backed ten feet away from Toby, mindful he appeared strong and was probably fast on his feet. “You see, what I want to know is which of those freedman from town are you paying to kill those Klansmen tonight? Guns for hire, right? Maybe if you tell me their names the boss’ll be lenient on you. Maybe he won’t kill you, b
ut put you and the missus to work for him. The way it always should’ve been. Am I right?”

  “We both know that ain’t gonna happen,” Toby said.

  “I expect you’re right.” Lyle glanced out the open front windows when the sound of rattling and galloping caught his attention. Diggs, seated in a one-horse carriage steered by Brendan, came into view first, followed by Franklin and other men—Toby counted at least nine—all on horseback.

  “Good afternoon, Toby!” Diggs, resplendent in the crisp black suit of a southern gentleman, complete with his Lincoln top hat, entered the house and held out his arms, as if reuniting with an old acquaintance after a long stretch of time. Toby, unamused, turned away.

  “My goodness, your knickers must be in a twist over this, so let’s come to terms like gentlemen.” Diggs squatted so he could observe both Jenkinses at eye level. “Provide me the deed to this property, with your signature transferring it to me, and you and your family can live. I realize this offer entails considerable angst, so I will allow one minute for you to decide.” Diggs stood and smiled along with Lyle. Franklin lingered in the doorway, nervously looking at Toby and then back outside to Brendan and the hired help.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Toby said, eyes rolling up, feigning consideration. “I essentially hand over to you everything I own and have worked for. And in exchange I thank you for not killing me? Some offer.”

  “You have thirty seconds remaining,” Diggs said.

  “Clever of you,” Toby said.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  One of the railroad workers poked his head inside.

  “Anything?” Diggs said.

  “He was loading corn into his wagon out back,” the man said. “Nobody else around.”

  “Don’t let your guard down. Those men of his are good.”

  “Got it.” The railroad man ducked out.

  “Klan’s not actually coming to town, is it?” Toby said to Diggs.

  “No, it is not.”

  “It isn’t?!” Franklin said. “What the hell’s going on? Those railroad guys you hired said a hundred Klansmen would be at Elkton’s. And that they were skipping out on you to join the lynching party. And now they’re here?”

  Diggs sighed, but remained upbeat as he addressed the big man.

  “Had I told you that the railroad workers were in on it, your nerves likely would have bested you, leading to you to seem insincere when told by those chaps that they were backing out on my proposition. I deemed it best to keep you in the dark so your concern seemed genuine.” Diggs turned to Toby. “It did seem genuine, didn’t it, boy? Franklin peddled snake oil he didn’t realize he was selling. Enough to get you to focus on a faux attack rather than me.”

  “It was in the back of my mind that you might be up to something.”

  “But greed for a massive slaughter won the day. You and I are not so different. You pay men to kill, as do I. The only difference is that I seek something tangible—land, money, women—in the destruction of my enemies. You desire peace of mind, I suppose. But we both want something of value in return for our dirty deeds. We are both murderers. Only one of us has the stones to admit it.”

  “I’ve never paid anyone to kill. And you and I are nothing alike.”

  “You see?” Diggs turned to Lyle and Franklin. “Denial.”

  “People around here know we own this land,” Sarah said. “They’ll ask questions, go to the sheriff if we suddenly disappear. For all you know, we’ve already tipped him off that you’re threatening to kill us.”

  “Doubtful. I know you want to see me disappear as much as I want you off the face of this earth, only I’ve beaten you to it. Now, it might be too late for you, Mister Jenkins, but not for your wife and child.” Diggs waited for Sarah to look at her. “My dear, please go upstairs—my man here will accompany you—and fetch your child. Bundle the youngster up as you please.”

  She turned to Toby for direction.

  “I’d do as he says, lady,” Lyle said.

  “Go,” Toby whispered.

  “Indeed, go,” Diggs said. “Lyle, if she does anything that in the slightest might suggest rebellion, shoot her on the spot—but not the child. I’m not completely without heart.” He smiled.

  Sarah ignored him and marched upstairs. A few moments of thumping and rummaging elapsed and she returned with Isaac wrapped in a blanket.

  “Sit down.” Lyle nudged her from behind and she slapped at his hand, eyeing him coldly. The sight of his sleeping son offered Toby no comfort.

  “Now’s the time,” Diggs told Franklin.

  He left wordlessly to complete the assignment.

  “I have a surprise for you, Toby and wife. And here he is”—Diggs lingered his voice so Toby and Sarah could see who followed Franklin inside—“now!”

  Sheriff Clement walked in, glancing at the floor and not at the two prisoners.

  “How much is he paying you? At least tell me that.” Toby seethed.

  “Enough,” Clement mumbled it, ashamed.

  “More than enough,” Diggs said. “Don’t try to outbid me, you won’t win that battle, either.”

  “How could you do this?” Toby looked at the sheriff, sunlight glinting off the star of authority pinned to his chest.

  “Why didn’t you just sell him the land in the first place like he asked?” Clement came off as pleading. “It didn’t need to come to this.”

  “Oh my God.” Toby whispered it to himself, not looking at anyone. It finally made sense. Toby had been telling Noah the truth the entire time. He focused on Diggs. “You killed Sheriff Cole.”

  “Indirectly, yes,” he said without hesitation. “Lyle here did the dirty work.”

  Lyle lingered next to Sarah before stepping back so he could see both of their reactions. The fiendish grin never left his face and hinted that Cole would not be the last person he’d cut apart.

  “Good God, you couldn’t buy him so you killed him,” Toby said.

  “Imagine Sheriff Clement’s surprise upon finding in your barn a couple of knives with remnants of Cole’s clothing,” Diggs said. “Oh, and his sheriff’s star that you took as a keepsake. What would the town think? I know what it would think: Savages. You killed those Klansmen and the soldiers for discovering you, and then Cole for putting it all together. So you ambushed him. Sloppy work, Toby, my boy.”

  “I always knew when you were following me.” Toby shook his head, regretting that he’d missed something. “But I never suspected those sheriff’s deputies outside of the church. You planted them there. You wanted me to hear all of those, those lies.” He addressed Clement, who grimaced. “So how many of your deputies are on Diggs’s payroll? It can’t be all of them. I refuse to believe all of those men would whore their dignity.”

  “Those two fellows you heard speaking outside of the church.” Diggs said. “They spun some other tale to the man who was in there with you. His reaction needed to be genuine, too, to sell the snake oil. Boudreaux might not be in on it, but a few other deputies are assisting me. But you need not worry about them.”

  “So the entire force isn’t corrupt?” Toby said.

  “Sadly, no. But the ones I have will suffice.”

  Deputy Cornelius Arnold entered and stood near Clement.

  “May I, Mister Diggs?” Arnold said.

  “Fine,” came the agitated reply.

  Arnold addressed both Toby and Sarah. “I am sorry about all this. I don’t know you. I got nothing personal against you. I need the money. I swear that’s it. I’m so sorry—”

  “That’s enough, Deputy,” Diggs said. “You asked to address them, and you have in the most pitiful manner. Now be quiet.”

  Arnold stayed next to Clement looking equally sullen.

  Toby spotted through the front window two deputies milling around the water well. One of them ho
cked up a loogie and sloppily spat it down the chute.

  “Now, your minute to consider has long since expired. But I’ve had a change of heart. I will put back on the table the financial proposition I originally offered you—plus another five thousand dollars.”

  “No,” Toby said.

  “Toby, take it,” Sarah said, careful not to startle Isaac.

  “I will give nothing or sell nothing of mine to this man.”

  “Toby, I get some say in this, and I’m saying deal. Don’t you realize your child’s life is at stake here?”

  “Sarah, he ain’t gonna let us live. Not with so many ways for us to expose what he’s done. He’s toying with us.”

  Silence. Sarah waited for Diggs to break it by disputing Toby’s accusation.

  “Missus Jenkins,” Diggs finally said. “You have the cooler head here. Why don’t you retrieve the deed?”

  She stood before Toby could stop her.

  “I have to, Toby.”

  “He’ll kill all of us before the ink dries,” Toby seethed.

  “I know. I know you won’t hesitate to kill me and my husband.” She looked at Diggs, and then called to Clement, his hands stuffed in his pockets, still eyeing his shoes. “But can you live with seeing a baby shot?

  “How about you?” she said to Franklin. “You really wanna see a baby killed?”

  Franklin fidgeted. “No ma’am,” he managed and looked outside.

  “Fuck Franklin, your boy’s life means shit to me,” Lyle said from behind her. “I ain’t doing it for free, though, Mister Diggs. But I’ll gladly do it.”

  Sarah saw the bloodlust in his expression. She held Isaac closer to her. She walked to retrieve from underneath the kitchen floorboards the metal box containing the deed and other valuables.

  “Let my child live,” she said as Diggs snatched the parchment from her hand.

  “Thank you, madam. Now, do you really think I need you and your husband’s signatures on this slip?”

  She didn’t reply. Her eyes grew wide.

  “You see, I can easily forge your signatures. I don’t care if they don’t appear to be identical. I never plan to be in a position where someone might question their authenticity. You’ve played your part, as have you, Toby Jenkins.”