“You know, we haven’t had a murder here in Larabee for quite some time now.” Sheriff Branson kneeled near the body and did a quick once over.
“Well, hopefully, this is the last,” Frank added.
“Agreed. How is the law enforcement business in Colorado?” The uniformed man asked while examining the different tracks through the ash and dirt.
“Been a little crazy this year, Branson. Thankfully, I had some help.” He nodded at Sonja.
“And this is Sonja, Frank’s girlfriend.” Franky motioned toward her, attempting to keep up appearances despite the situation.
“Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” the lawman complimented, glancing up briefly from his work. “A real pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied.
“I’m sorry you had to see this. It may be better if you head back to the ranch house for now.”
Sonja had dealt with dead bodies before, and while it was still shocking, she didn’t feel like she needed to leave. Franky Senior, however, looked paler and paler by the minute
Frank Junior shrugged, his brow furrowed in worry. “Dad, are you okay?”
“I-I’m fine,” he stuttered.
“Maybe you should head back to the house, too,” Frank instructed.
Nodding, his father agreed. “It would probably be wise.” Turning, he headed over the hill and back toward the ranch. Sonja stayed put. For the time being, no one noticed or made a comment about her presence.
“When is the last time you solved a murder case?” Frank asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Not since ‘99. We don’t really get crimes like that here in Larabee.”
“We should probably cordon off the area,” Frank mentioned.
“My two other deputies should be here soon to help,” the sheriff said as he was doing a closer examination of the body.
“I know you’re down a deputy,” Frank commented. “If you need my help, I’m willing and capable.”
“Maybe you should go ahead and head back with your father, make sure he’s okay. Take your sweetie with you. If I have any questions for any of you, or if I decide I’m shorthanded, I’ll come and see you at the ranch house later this evening.”
Nodding slightly, Frank agreed. Sonja could tell it was difficult for her boyfriend to relinquish control of the situation, having been the main man in multiple murder cases. Instead of following him over the hill, she decided to take the initiative in the situation. “I noticed there were cow tracks coming to the scene but not leading away,” she commented. “What do you think that means?”
“Could mean a cow wandered through here after the murder. Could mean something else,” the sheriff responded honestly.
“What about the horse prints leading away from the scene?”
The sheriff stood up and looked her in the eye. “Young lady, please head back to the house with Frank. I’ll be down later to get your statement. Any observations or questions can be asked then.”
“Come on, Sonj’,” Frank encouraged. “If he needs our help, he’ll come and get us.”
Reluctantly agreeing, Sonja tagged along. However, she still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if something about this murder scene was distinctly occult. If some occult ritual truly had been performed on the site, she couldn’t help but think she was the best person to address it.
* * *
Frank and Sonja quickly caught up with his father and walked the rest of the way back to the ranch in silence. When the three of them arrived, Sonja noticed the silver car was gone and guessed that the coast was clear. Breathing deeply, she smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen of the house.
Hearing the front door open, Hannah stepped out of the back with a smile. “Great timing. I just finished putting dinner on the table.”
Walking into the dining room, Sonja looked with wide eyes at the array of food laid out on the table, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was. The last thing she’d had to eat was a cheap burger from a fast food joint in a dirty little town along the highway.
Hannah set the last plate of food down and looked up at the trio standing silently nearby. Raising an eyebrow, she stepped closer to them. “What’s going on? You all look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Deputy Baker is dead,” Franky commented.
“Dead,” Frank’s mother muttered quietly.
They quickly explained the situation and everything that had transpired just outside of the ranch. “For now,” Frank commented, “I suggest we forget about the murder and try to enjoy this meal together.”
Franky nodded in agreement, putting on a smile. “Agreed. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”
“Well, it’s not horse—it’s steak,” Hannah joked.
“Even better.” Frank Senior rubbed his hands together eagerly, shaking off the horrors of what they’d seen. “Let’s eat.”
“Why don’t you sit next to me, dear?” Hannah instructed Sonja.
Taking her seat beside Hannah, with Frank on the corner of the table on her other side, they began to dig in. There was a large bowl of steamy mashed potatoes with delicious puddles of butter soaking in and a touch of garlic seasoning. A pan of warm cornbread was the perfect golden brown and had small bits of cheese and green chilies mixed in. Sonja had a piece with homemade strawberry preserves on top and it was the perfect combination of sweet, savory, and just a little bit of spice. Freshly steamed green beans with bacon pieces acted as a side vegetable that was still slightly crunchy and too irresistible not to eat. Finally, the main event was the steak—what Hannah called “Cowboy Steaks”—marinated all day in a mixture of olive oil, garlic, chipotle powder, smoked paprika, and salt. The steaks were seared to perfection on the outside while still having a light pinkness in the middle.
“You should come work for me,” Sonja teased, taking another bite of potatoes.
There was a loud bang as the backdoor into the kitchen swung open and Ray stepped in breathing heavily and wiping his brow. His face was pale and sweat coated his face.
“What now?” Frank wondered aloud.
CHAPTER 9
* * *
“Ray, are you okay?” Hannah asked.
The ranch hand paused, nodding his head. He looked around the room, examining everyone there with a little unease. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He let his breath out with a heavy sigh. “One of the horses just got out of the barn, but I managed to get him.”
“Which one?” Frank Senior stood from his spot at the table.
“Blackie, but don’t worry about it. I already got her back in the stall.”
“Ah, I see.” He sat back down. “How did she get out?”
“Seems like she got spooked by something, not sure what.”
The group fell silent for a moment, all of them clearly thinking of the murder. Sonja even wondered if the murderer, or perhaps the demon horseman himself, were still around.
“Did I miss something?” Ray pressed.
“Must be Sinful up to his old tricks,” Frank commented with a smile, attempting to break the tension.
Tilting her head to one side, Sonja looked her boyfriend in the eye. “Sinful?”
“Our local ghost,” Franky chimed in.
The supernaturally sensitive woman instantly felt her heart skip a beat, dancing over the word “ghost.”
“Sinful was a Bounty Hunter in this area during the old west,” Frank commented. “Despite the harsh nature of his profession, he really was like a vigilante out to help the poor and downtrodden.”
“Almost like a warrior of the west,” Ray added.
“And he supposedly comes around here?”
“Yep,” Frank Senior confirmed. “He’s quite the legend in this area. Some people believe he rides around in the valley still looking for bounties and helping people along the way. He usually only shows up when something needs to be done or a crime needs to be solved.”
Frank Junior shifted in his s
eat. “Sometimes, however, he manages to spook animals. I guess that’s the nature of being a ghost.” He smiled, showing his gleaming teeth.
Sonja felt her mouth hanging open slightly as she looked at her boyfriend. “Frank, you believe in this ghost?”
“I’m not saying I believe in ghosts.” He put his hands up defensively. “But I’m not going to deny that Sinful certainly left his mark on this area, and strange things do happen. I’ve heard stories from Sheriff Branson, that sometimes during an investigation of a robbery or vandal that he seems to get strange anonymous tips or that evidence just presents itself. He thinks it’s Sinful.”
Sonja was amazed. Frank had always come off as a man of pure logic, and even when Sonja had hinted at the supernatural, he had brushed it under the rug as if it were ridiculous. She had been scared for months to even share any hint of her ability to see ghosts. Now, she felt slightly more comfortable with the situation.
“If there was a ghost in Haunted Falls who wanted to help me out in investigations, I’d be thrilled. I suppose I’ll just have to settle for you,” he smiled at Sonja.
Sonja refrained from stating that there were many ghosts willing to help with crime investigations, they just chose to communicate with her and not with him.
“The old saloon in town is named after him, and everyone even calls the owner Sinful Emmy because she’s a direct descendent of the man,” Franky commented. “It wouldn’t be Larabee, Wyoming, without Sinful hanging around.”
Somehow, despite the narrative that this ghost was someone helpful, she couldn’t shake the fear she had felt from the ghostly demon she had seen on the way into town. Surely, Sinful and the skull-headed ghost she had seen were not the same beings.
“If he solves crimes, what the heck was he doing out here?” Sonja asked.
“I was kidding when I said it was him, Sonj’,” Frank confided. “We just like to joke about him causing little problems around the ranch.”
She forced a smile, still slightly unsettled by the situation. Frank and his family all might be joking, but she knew that ghosts were real. “Did Sinful have a rival. Some outlaw, maybe?”
“As a matter of fact, he did,” Ray responded. “They called him Tar Face. He started out as nothing more than a common horse thief. Some town found out what he was doing and tarred and feathered him, burning his face and body horribly. After he recovered, he swore vengeance against the town’s people. He had his gang set up a distraction just outside the settlement. The men of the town created a posse and rode out to take down the gang. When all the men were gone, Tar Face rode in and just slaughtered a bunch of women, and children.”
“T-That’s horrible,” Sonja stammered. “Sinful went after him?”
“He did. He spent most of his life chasing down Tar Face. Never caught him.”
“They say it was the one case that really haunted Sinful,” Frank added.
Sonja was deeply disturbed by this story. She thought of the burning specter she had seen in the field earlier and knew that it had to be Tar Face or at least Tar Face’s ghost.
“Either way,” Ray chimed in again, clearly bringing an end to the conversation. “Blackie is back in the barn, no problem.”
“Hank was riding her today, wasn’t he?” Franky asked.
“Yeah.”
“And he tied her up before he left?”
Ray nodded. “But Larry was talking his ear off, so I wouldn’t blame him for not double checking the stall.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Franky confided.
“Anything left for me?” Ray asked, taking an open seat at the dining room table.
“Of course, Ray,” Hannah responded, handing him the plate of steaks.
“Should we save some for Hank?” Sonja asked.
Frank Senior shook his head. “He’ll eat at the Saloon.”
“Well, it’s nice that everyone gets a nice hot meal after a hard day’s work,” she commented, pleased to see that even the ranch hands ate at the table.
“Hank and Ray are as much a part of the family as Frank or you are.” Franky smiled.
Sonja felt herself grow a little hot again, her face flushing. She hardly felt like a part of the family. After all, she had just met them and felt like she hardly knew them. However, something told her that Frank’s parents knew everything about her.
“In fact, Ray here has been my friend for longer than Frank’s been alive.” He patted Ray on the shoulder. The old friend smirked with one side of his mouth. “We played football in high school. Isn’t that right Ray?”
Nodding, Ray shoveled a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, not looking up from his plate.
“But Ray has only worked for us for about a month,” Hannah commented. “He’s been in Boise and other big cities ever since high school.”
“Yep,” Franky added. “He surprised us by coming back into town last month. He was looking for work, so I offered it to him, and now, the old, school buddies are back together again.” He eagerly nudged his friend. “I think I even have our old yearbook buried somewhere around here,” Frank Senior stood up from the table and began shuffling through a nearby bookshelf that was filled to capacity.
“Honey, sit down and enjoy dinner. I’m sure Sonja doesn’t want to look at old pictures,” Hannah insisted.
“Here it is,” he declared, holding up the book and blowing off the dust. “I probably should have gotten rid of it years ago, but just never did.” He flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted. “Ah, here it is.” He held it out for Sonja to see. The black and white image featured a group of young men all dressed in football garb. He pointed. “That’s me in the middle, and that’s Ray right there. He was our quarterback.”
Sonja couldn’t help but giggle a little at Ray, who had a big bushy mustache that only existed in the seventies.
“Ray could grow facial hair like no other high schooler I’ve ever seen,” Franky joked.
“I thought you were the quarterback, Dad?” Frank asked.
“Nope, it was ol’ Ray here.” He patted his friend on the back, who remained quiet and shoveled in another bite of food. “He was far more of a sportsman than me. He did football, basketball, and marksmanship.”
“Marksmanship?” Sonja asked.
“Guns, bows, and arrows, that sort of thing,” Frank informed her.
“They had that in high school?” she exclaimed.
“Well,” Franky replied. “Archery is a given. The high school here still has an archery club.” He flipped a few pages and showed her the image of the marksman club. “But, considering that so many ranchers still hunted for food back then, they included other forms of ranged hunting skills such as guns and even throwing knives.”
“Wow, I guess we live in a different world.”
“We never once had an accident as far as I know, but Ray was one of the best marksmen in the class. He still usually wins a prize in the harvest festival competition each year for either archery or knife throwing.”
“That’s really cool, Ray,” Sonja noted sincerely. Ray only responded with a quiet shrug. “Did you do any other sports, too?” she asked Frank Senior.
“No, not really. Football was what I loved most.” He placed the book back on the shelf. “Speaking of, this wouldn’t be dinner without a football game.” He picked up the remote and pointed it at the small tube television in the corner.
“Wait until after dinner, please,” Hannah insisted.
“Ah, come on, Hannah. It’s tradition on Thanksgiving.”
“It’s not Thanksgiving yet.” She pointed her butter knife at him. “Now, sit down and let’s finish this meal with our son who we haven’t seen in six months.”
“You’re right, Hannah.” He nodded, taking a seat and smiling. “But as soon as dinner is over, I’m watching the game. After all, we’ve got to get some good ideas for plays tomorrow.”
Sonja stood up to get another scoop of potatoes. “Tomorrow?”
“The Turk
ey Bowl,” Frank answered. “Every year, dad holds a game for family and friends out in the field. We call it the Turkey Bowl.”
CHAPTER 10
* * *
As soon as dinner had finished, Ray headed out to the ranch hands’ house while Frank’s father walked into the living room and turned on the large flat screen television set. Plopping down on the couch, he instantly became engrossed in the game playing on the screen, excitedly cheering for his favorite team.
“Frank, get in here and watch the game with your dad,” he called to his son who was helping to clear off the table.
“I’m helping Mom,” he called back.
“Oh, go on, honey,” Hannah insisted. “It’s not like you get a lot of one-on-one time with your father.”
“What about you, Sonja?”
Shrugging, Sonja agreed. “You should spend time with your dad. Besides, I can help your mom with the dishes.”
“Sonja, thank you, but you don’t need to help me,” Hannah protested slightly.
“Sure I do. I’m a guest and I would feel like I was imposing if I didn’t help out a little.”
“Well, how about you just help with some of the cooking tomorrow?”
“I can do that, too.” Sonja picked up a stack of plates, indicating that she wouldn’t be talked out of helping with the dishes.
“Well, I see you’re like me—insistent.” Hannah smiled. “I like that.”
“I have a new recipe I want to try out,” Sonja continued. “I think you’ll really like it.”
Glancing over, both women noticed Frank was still standing there. “I thought we told you to go watch football with your father.”
“You just missed an awesome touchdown, Son,” the voice echoed from the other room.
“Alright,” Frank gave in. “Let me just show you your room first,” he offered.
“Oh, honey. I can show her the room.” Hannah waved a hand, indicating to his son that he should head into the living room.
“Yeah, spend time with family while you can,” Sonja echoed.
Nodding in thanks, Frank headed into the next room.
Turkey and Terror: Book 6 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 4