Ghosts in the Gulch: An Evergreen Cemetery Mystery (Evergreen Cemetery Mysteries Book 1)

by S. L. Hawke

  “I want you to wear a wedding band,” Emma said softly. I sat up.

  “I have never been unfaithful and we are still yet to be wed.” Emma looked away then got up and put on her kimono. We were in her private room, lined with a tatami mat, a futon bed, and a nine panel painted silk wall that looked as if it had come from the Emperor’s palace itself.

  “So you have been contemplating one last taste?” she teased, but my recent dalliance with Sally made me suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Come to my mother’s funeral, as the Royal Princess that you are.”

  Emma turned and knelt in front of me. “You know I would do that, but I cannot.”

  “Emma, you are Royal; there is nothing improper here. You helped my mother, your Aunt, Her Grace, was a friend – We are affianced.” I held her hands to my chest. She smiled and looked down, her loveliest of gestures.

  “A.J., I’m carrying again.” She said this with such beauty, and happiness, I wasn’t sure what she meant. Carrying what? Then it hit me. We first lay together in June; now it was November. The morning sickness, the sleeping, the tears. It had been such a long time since I had been with a woman who was carrying my child.

  “Well, shit.” I grinned. “I…you are sure? I know you are, but I also, I…”

  Emma placed a finger on my lips. “It’s a bit soon, yes, but…”

  “We are getting married, right now.”

  “A.J.!”

  “NOW.”

  “It’s comforting that at least you have knowledge of the use of vocabulary.” Shaw-Jones simply stared back at Andrew. “But I digress. Sally Towne was found garroted in the reeds near the Beach Lagoon with what looks like a narrow rope.”

  The tea cup on its way to my mouth stopped half way. “What?”

  “The sister of the Supervisor was the last one seen leaving the Pacific Ocean House. Previously, she was seen by the servants at the Singletons’ winery, giving felatio to a certain high ranking Army official,” Shaw-Jones stated as I sat at the table in the Chinese eatery we chose to meet in.

  “You know, you could just say ‘blowjob’. Then the rest of us peasants could understand what the fuck you’re talking about.” Andrew leaned back from the round table that held the rest of us. “Saying it in a foreign language isn’t going to change the lasciviousness of the act.”

  “I was able to study her remains before they were taken away.” Shaw-Jones ignored Andrew. “The wound was made by a cord covered in wax or paraffin, much like the laces used in French military boots. They are a specific length, perfect for the methode garôtte. The Supervisor is having the body shipped at great expense to San Francisco.” Shaw-Jones poured tea with an elegance that made me suspect he shared an affinity for precision. The translation of this news was that Sally’s killer was skilled in the French art of death. My cousin William’s voice echoed in my head: sadé et masôchisme. Ingram. It had to be.

  “Well, she was a problem and a risk,” Fergus added a bit too lightly.

  “I hope the General will be retired,” I added none too nicely.

  “Sally Towne also coerced one of the deputies to let go of some evidence from the Sheriff’s office before we had a chance to seize it.”

  “What did she take?” Andrew looked concerned as well.

  “Forgeries.” Shaw-Jones pronounced.

  “Of what?” I asked. Fergus was strangely quiet until this moment.

  “Land grants. Serendipity was with us. The Sheriff kept a set of false deeds to seize land from Latino families on particular land strips that Towne needed for business.” Fergus helped himself to soup and slurped better than I did in Asian fashion. “It is, I’m afraid to say, a common practice.”

  I did not like his tone. Sally did not deserve what she got. She was, as Miles had often taught me, forced into her harsh life. What she needed was freedom, and quite possibly could have helped the Marshal Service, like Miles had done. Despite her great skills as an actress I believed she did shelter my sister from her brother. I owed her for that.

  “Was she killed by the Army?” I asked suddenly. The silence around the table was thankfully due to the shock of my accusation. Shaw-Jones was the only one not affected by my statement.

  “Good heavens, no,” he answered. “The type of garrote and the technique applied was French.”

  “Ingram?” Andrew inquired. Shaw-Jones feigned surprise. What was it with him and Andrew? It was nagging me because I knew the answer, I just was uncomfortable about it. I also knew Andrew had no such inclinations.

  “Your intellect, Deputy, continues to astound me.” The sarcasm gushing off that statement could have painted the building. Andrew looked at me with a look of exasperated frustration.

  “Can I just shoot his dick off? Or can I use your sword to do it?” Andrew leaned back in his seat. Shaw-Jones began to explain that you could not shoot off genitalia with a sword when Fergus gratefully interrupted us.

  “Gentlemen, we have to move soon. We cannot let their plans unfold.” Here Fergus brought out a letter with an ornate wax seal. “This is a Wells Fargo gold shipment schedule.” Here Fergus’ bright, round blue eyes twinkled a bit. “I have an idea.”

  “Well it’s winter now. They will be holed up in someone’s barn.” Andrew held out a letter. It was from Jad. “He thinks they may try for the stage when it comes through next spring.”

  “That is why we grab Poole now,” Fergus said as he took another big slurp of soup.

  “You’re thinking that if we grab the illustrious leader first, his seconds will jockey into position, create more problems with Ingram, forcing him to reveal his plans a little sooner than intended.” My assessment was met with silence. Andrew sat back from the table. Shaw-Jones sipped his tea quietly. I dropped my head. “Meaning, I would be the one to take charge.”

  “Not exactly,” Fergus giggled, “but Ingram.”

  “Christmas coming early,” I added, to no effect. I did notice Andrew only had half the letter.

  “Our illustrious Sheriff.” Fergus clapped his hands. “But I must remind all of you that the Sheriff is simply lending a hand. We are to take custody of Poole.”

  “Gentlemen, we raid the den now, I guarantee you, Ingram will flee.” Shaw-Jones rumbled the pronouncement. It was hard to ignore, not because he had said it so direly, but because it was true.

  “So, what do you suggest, Lordy?” Andrew frowned at Shaw-Jones.

  “As you have pointed out, Deputy, it is winter.”

  6

  Thieves Camp, Corralitos, Santa Cruz Mountains

  Faustino and Sloan brought wintering supplies to the camp. Poole insisted that they stay. He tried hard not to fidget as he stood outside the tent listening to the conversation. Sloan was with the Iced Eyed Gringo discussing the number of barrels of powder they would need for transport in the spring and the means to acquire them. The lead ingots were another matter, but Sloan had convinced McKenna that by next April there would be sufficient stock for their needs. McKenna seemed more belligerent than usual if that were possible, pressing Sloan on details of Emma’s ‘sickness’. Faustino enjoyed this deception against McKenna.

  Emma had shared her experience in the livery stable with Faustino, how the Ice Eyed Gringo had almost taken her by force. The baby she carried was safely inside her by then, but she feared the scare would sent it out and for the first time in many weeks, pleaded illness to keep A.J. from her bed. When a week had passed and Emma felt strong again, she had embraced Sloan, and had married him.

  Faustino knew Sloan did not know what McKenna had tried to do, but he worried that McKenna would boast or complain about what had happened. Anxiously Faustino hovered outside the tent, listening intently to the voices within. The separation in the flaps made it easy to see. As he was washing shirts, his presence could be easily ignored.

  “You cannot go back on our agreement.” Ingram was leaning across the plank table at Tom Poole. Faustino could see that McKenna enjoyed watching Ingram get angry.
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br />   “Ian, how are the plans to intercept the gold?” Poole asked in his eerie, almost calm manner.

  “The schedule we obtained through Sloan says that the stage is scheduled to leave Monterey sometime at the end of April. The driver is fast. It’s Parkhurst, and he’s no fool.”

  Ingram narrowed his eyes at McKenna. “Sloan? I thought he was only as good as the powder he gave us. And the gold, what has become of that? What has his gold bought you?”

  “Cattle hides, dried beef, cornmeal, and rifle stock,” McKenna answered. Faustino crept closely to the tent edge, keeping an eye out for Sloan. Sloan saw him, told him to watch closely in sign language, as he entered the tent. Faustino nodded and continued his listening.

  They continued to argue, Ingram most especially who announced suddenly that he was wanting to leave early.

  “We have no more allies here, not after the death of the Sheriff.”

  Poole was not moved by this news. “We don’t need him. The ledger will allow us to manipulate those who oppose us.” Poole did not know Sally was dead or he did, but did not care. Faustino found this strange.

  “We need to move. If the greasers lose this land, we may lose all of our access to the stage road. I cannot trust this Lorenzana,” McKenna growled. “We, the Knights, should do this, buy the land. I am willing to do it. All we need is a deed made to look like our claim. What say you, Sloan, are you fearless enough to take a chance?”

  “There is only one Marshal. As far as I know, posses are spread thin, chasing after those ‘greasers’. In a way we have these bandidos to thank for distracting the lawmen who watch the roads,” Sloan answered.

  “Do you see, Captain?” Poole leaned back and held his arm out in an expansive gesture. “As God would have it, there was a true reason for our connection and indeed cooperation with the Mexicanos.”

  “I think my men and Sloan here could move the camp to a safe location further into the mountains. We could have our supplies out by this evening, that is if that…boy…cooperates.” McKenna put his gloves on.

  “Can you trust that…boy?” Poole asked Sloan.

  “No, but I can trust his greed.” Sloan had a way with words but the conversation turned.

  “What if you are caught?” Ingram argued. “Can we function without local help?”

  “We will not fail,” McKenna shot back.

  “Do not, my son. We need to ensure our army can react as a full unit,” Poole said sternly. He was not used to being challenged. Ingram was showing his truer self, a more intelligent man than Poole had previously thought. Beads of sweat broke out on Poole’s pate. “The Don will also ensure our cooperation with certain well placed government officials. Do not think for a moment, Captain, that your shipments sail because you are in command. I control the wharf.”

  “Not all of them,” Ingram said softly.

  Ingram strode out of the tent. Faustino saw that he began to give orders to load the burros.

  Sloan and McKenna also left the tent but went quickly into another one to get food. Faustino could hear them letting beer out of the barrel. McKenna stuffed his face with bread, then took a slice of dried sausage. He offered a chunk to Sloan who declined and instead grabbed an apricot. Faustino’s apricots, he was glad to see. The men ate in silence.

  “I’m going to get her very soon,” McKenna complained. “I almost had her. The woman was under my nose the entire time. Did you know that the boy servant of the Guilds, the one we all knew as JUAN ARANA, was a woman? I find that very hard to believe you could not tell, being so close to your sister and her servants.”

  Faustino bit his knuckle at this conversation. “What are you talking about?” Sloan was moving carefully. “That boy I had with me was Lorenzana.” There was an edge to A.J.’s voice. Faustino worried what would happen next. “What do you mean, you almost had her? Who is this woman you speak of? I thought your heart rested with the Realm of Her Royal Highness. “

  “Sloan, you amaze me with your thick-headedness when it comes to women. How could you kiss Emma and not be under her spell? She is wild, that one. Playing a stable boy in the livery. Naturally I corralled her. And I almost had her around me, if that boy Marshal hadn’t stopped me.” There was no sound. Faustino bit his palm. Uriah had stopped McKenna. Why did he not say so?

  “Are you telling me you assaulted Her Highness in the livery stable?” Sloan’s voice had turned quiet; Faustino had heard him like this before. It was a sign that he might possibly attack.

  “She was dressed as a stable hand. I could not help myself.”

  “You’re lying. I would have known. Her security would have known. Her private security is not me, by the way. Nothing concerning Emma goes without notice.” Sloan had slipped out the intimate way he referred to her.

  “Don’t worry, your job is safe.” McKenna obviously did not notice A.J.’s tone or his familiarity. “If I had truly taken her, I would not be here. You would be hard at work organizing the security for our wedding trip.” Here Faustino could almost hear McKenna stretch himself. “We were interrupted before I was able to fully delve into the possibility.” There was a sound of casks stacking. “I intend to visit her after our job is done and remind her that we are already more intimate than is allowed by polite society.” Faustino heard him sigh.

  “I’ll take these to Ingram,” Sloan grumbled and flew out of the tent. Faustino ran after him, knowing now what he needed to do with Sloan. When Sloan dropped the cask of lead balls into Ingram’s stock pile, Faustino caught up with his long strides as he walked clear of the camp. Sloan grabbed Faustino by the jacket and threw him against the cut side of the hillock.

  “Emma told you. I know she did. Did you know about this?” Sloan’s jaw was moving back and forth. “DID YOU?”

  Faustino knew that they could be overheard so he spoke carefully.

  “He lies. He wants to feel like he is powerful and has more than you. That is all.”

  Sloan was pacing like a caged wolf. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why? My God, all this time…”

  “Cabron, it will be fine. She is fine; he never took her. He tried, but he never did. Your brother came and helped her escape.”

  “What?”

  “Your brother came and rescued her. He felt it was his fault that McKenna found out. Why McKenna did not say so just proves that he lied.” Faustino watched as Sloan’s eyes, his dark pupils, lessened their size. He was calming down. “Please just concentrate on what–”

  There was a crack in the bush. They had been followed. Faustino panicked. Sloan looked at him as well. They heard voices. Where has the greaser run off to? If you find him trying to leave, let McKenna kill him. What about Sloan, is he a spy, sir? I’ll deal with him, and no one else. But if Sloan is a spy, sir? What do we do? The voices were on top of them.

  Suddenly Faustino jumped up and kissed Sloan full on the mouth and put his hand down Sloan’s trousers. Sloan tried to stop him.

  Ingram came through the brush speaking to a guard about killing Faustino and Sloan just as Faustino put his arms full around Sloan’s neck, kissing him as deeply as Sloan would allow. Sloan grabbed Faustino and pulled him off exclaiming: “You pathetic little bastard!”

  Ingram made a sound of surprise as the guard giggled and teased Faustino about stopping by his tent. Ingram, red in the face, rooted to the spot, stared at Sloan, then told the guard to be off.

  “Chicano. I need to speak with your master,” he said with some incredulity.

  Faustino picked up his hat, trying not to look at A.J.’s very red face. He hurried back to camp, wishing he could have stayed to hear what Ingram thought had just happened. He definitely would tell Emma what had happened. They would laugh over it. Despite the shock of being kissed, it seemed that Sloan accepted him for who he was and it made no difference to their friendship as men. Feeling uplifted and relieved, Faustino sang about cacti flowers and bees as he made haste to ride out. The Army would be waiting just inside the gully for Faustino to guide them here.<
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  ********

  McKenna’s story made my blood rise. Now the rope burns, the bruises Emma had suffered two weeks ago, her keeping me from her bed, all made sense. At first I could not believe McKenna had raped her. There would have been more signs, and Emma would have been more upset. Instead, she did look like she had escaped something, and pregnant when she had done so. Why did she not tell me? Because I would have killed him and all would be lost.

  Faustino had known, but I believed him when Faustino felt as if McKenna had lied. I blessed my baby brother and understood now why he had a change of heart towards me. Even so, my lack of focus, my worry for Emma, the baby, almost got me caught. Ingram had refused to discuss any details of current events in town with me. I fretted about how much he knew of the Sheriff and Sally.

  My time here could be at an end if I could not convince Ingram that we no longer needed Poole. I had to make this impending arrest look as if I did them a favor. There was only one thing to do. Tell Ingram the Army was coming.

  Faustino, that little bastard, was definitely a young man who preferred the company of other men. Miles would have been proud of what I allowed that gallipolas to do. Saved us both. His attempt to kiss me with his tongue embarrassed, horrified, and stunned me, but I had to play along, or our whole operation would be compromised. I blessed Miles’ attention to this subject matter, her classes, and her insistence that we understand rather than revile. It saved me.

  “Well, now I see why McKenna allows you to operate so closely to the woman he loves.” Here Ingram simply put his hands behind his back. “I take it he knows on some level that you have these…desires?” he said with a gesture towards Faustino. The moment of shock allowed me to think about how to turn this to my advantage. “Ah, well, I’ll keep your secret, but on one condition.”

  Ingram, whose face had been closed and suspicious, suddenly looked relieved, like a man who made the right decision in trusting me. Things took a turn for the better in his mind. I nodded my acquiescence. Ingram leaned in towards me. “I have to depart. Poole is an idiot if he thinks he can continue to operate a camp on land that is seized. I will not stay here. The Latinos will turn us in if it means saving their land.”