Angus

by Jo Jones

  Together they ran toward the bell-tent.

  ~ ~ ~

  Angus stood at the opening of the tent watching a sizeable crowd search through the line of booths as they moved in his direction. A few shouted comments left no question about their general mood.

  Inside, Blake and Lucy waited in front of the table with a now empty dais. Angus sensed Blake’s growing anxiety, but to the lad’s credit, he dinna back down from facing his potential accusers.

  “Whoever took that bell, better not let me catch him,” someone yelled from the group.

  “I’ll wager a day’s labor, it’s that Barnes kid again,” a man shouted, skirting a display of pumpkins.

  “I agree. Find that kid and you’ll find the bell!” another voice responded.

  “We’ll get him,” someone added. “People are searching everywhere. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Walking ahead of the rest, a man in a gold-and-white jacket was having a heated conversation with the bell-guard.

  “…hired you to guard the bell. All you had to do was just stand there. What were you thinking, leaving the tent?”

  “I’m sorry Coach Honeycutt.” The bell-guard whined. “I had to. I got a ca—"

  A man dressed in Jefferson’s colors caught up with them, breathless and clearly angry. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “The bell isn’t on the field like it’s supposed to be and from all the comments I’m hearing, you’ve lost it. Again! That’s two years in a row! How can anyone be this incompetent?”

  “Go home,” Honeycutt growled. “This is an Ashton City matter. We won. You lost. If we decide not to ring in the win, that’s our business. The bell is ours for another year, and where it is at the moment, doesn’t concern you.”

  The Jefferson man’s face reddened. “That’s what you think! When the bell’s found, and it will be found, we’re going to reassign custody, so Jefferson’s heritage can be kept safe! Even if we have to do it in court! So, don’t think for a minute, this is over!”

  Angus watched the man storm off, pushing his way through a growing group of people, some searching the booths, some seemingly content to watch and speculate. Others grew increasingly hostile as the search for the bell, and Blake, continued. Angus sighed with relief that Blake and Lucy were inside the tent. Safe, for the moment, at least.

  “Ye seem tae be the man in charge,” Angus began, as Honeycutt reached the tent, “I’d like tae speak with ye.”

  He gave Angus a cursory once-over. “Not now. Whatever it is, will have to wait.”

  “ ’Tis important.”

  “Not now!” Honeycutt snarled, blatantly dismissing Angus as he pulled the bell-guard aside and got nose to nose with him. “What the hell happened?”

  The guard glanced up nervously as several people gathered closer, some of whom were clearly out for blood.

  “I got a call that some kid was slashing my tires in the parking lot. I just bought those tires!” he whined. “It looked like everyone was at the game, so I... Well, I couldn’t just let that kid destroy my tires, could I? So, I went to check.” He hung his head in defeat. “When I left the tent, I swear no one was around. It must have been a hoax to lure me away. When I got back the bell was gone.”

  “Who called you?” Honeycutt asked.

  “I don’t know.” The guard shrugged. “I didn’t recognize the voice and the caller ID said unknown.”

  Several more people joined the half-circle around the front of the tent, and more continued to come. Angus heard Blake’s name tossed back and forth in the disgruntled chatter.

  “Something has to be done about that kid!” One of them snarled. “I can’t believe he’d pull this stunt two years in a row.”

  Grif pushed through the crowd, limping toward them as Lucy appeared at Angus’s elbow. “What are you doing?” Angus whispered to her. “Get back in there with Blake.”

  “No.” She stated flatly surveying the crowd. “My place is here, with you.”

  When Grif reached them, Angus gave a small jerk of his head, indicating the tent’s interior. Grif stood behind Lucy for a moment, then faded into the shadows behind them.

  “There’s his sister,” a woman yelled. “Ask her where her thieving brother is.”

  Standing side-by-side with Lucy, guarding the entrance of the tent, Angus saw her body tense at the remark, but she stood strong, her face a mask of determination. He had no doubt she’d defend her brother in whatever way necessary, but the lass was smart enough to wait for the right time.

  “I warned you something like this would happen!” Vivian snarled, emerging through the onlookers. People seemed to part automatically for her. She locked her venomous gaze on Lucy. “Now, what are you going to do about it?”

  Murmurs of agreement and support for Vivian wove through the crowd.

  Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but Angus signaled her to stop her. He’d hoped for a private moment with Honeycutt to disclose Blake’s whereabouts in a calmer, safer, setting. This mob wouldna give the lad a chance. Most of them had already tried and convicted him.

  “Well? Vivian pressed.

  “Okay everyone, take a breath.” Angus recognized Orville Pearson from the cotton candy booth, when he stepped forward, palms raised. “You’re all making some serious assumptions. There’s no proof Blake took the bell. It could be anyone. Isn’t this still the land of the innocent-until-proven-guilty?”

  “No proof yet, you mean,” a voice called out.

  “I agree with Orville,” Frank Hastings, the man Angus remembered from the shelter, came forward. “Without proof, Blake’s no guiltier than anyone else. The only guilt we’re sure of, is Eric’s for leaving his post.”

  “Take your blinders off, Frank,” a voice shouted. “Someone tricked Eric away from that tent. I’ll give you two guesses, but I only need one.”

  “Where is Blake, Lucy?” Vivian demanded, her scowl distorting her perfect face.

  Blake shoved his way between Angus and Lucy. “Right here.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The immediate outcry sent birds scattering from the treetops.

  “Bloody hell,” Angus ground out, shoving Blake behind him as threats volleyed like cannon shot. “Keep him back there, Lucy, ’til this mob settles down!” He used his full stature to fill as much of the tent entrance as he could. He watched, alert and ready, for anyone who tried to so much as touch the lad.

  Accusations rose against Blake, whether from vested interest, or simply the opportunity to sling a few arrows from the perceived protection of others. Even festival goers who seemingly had no idea what was happening, stopped to watch and listen. Some of them crowded closer, curiosity stamped on their avid faces.

  Behind him, Angus could hear both Lucy and Grif arguing in muted tones with Blake about staying inside until the worst of the challengers calmed down. To the lad’s credit, he seemed ready to come out and face them.

  “I’ve heard criminals always return to the scene of their crimes to gloat,” a young man, not much older than Blake, called out. “I’ll bet the klepto hiding in that tent isn’t gloating now. Time to pay the piper.” He finished in a sing-song voice, setting Angus’ teeth on edge.

  “All right. That’s enough,” Coach Honeycutt shouted. “Everyone pipe down so we can get this thing sorted out.”

  “Yes,” Vivian added, from her spot near the gate-keeper. “Now that the Barnes family have staged their grand entrance, could we please get on with it?”

  As the noise died down, Lucy, Blake and Grif, stepped forward, forming a row, shoulder to shoulder with Angus in the tent’s opening.

  “Open up. Let us through!” One of the men Angus had seen arguing in the woods earlier, pushed Matt, in his wheelchair, through the throng of townspeople. He still wore the same sneer he’d had when he’d had to dig out more money. Following them, was Matt’s mother, looking wary and intimidated.

  “I told you!” the man announced, breathlessly. “I warned you all.” He seemed to be addressing the
crowd in general. “That kid has always been trouble. It’s time he paid for all he’s done. For what he’s taken from me and everyone else in this town.”

  Confused, Angus leaned toward Lucy. “Who is that with Matt?”

  “That’s George Brinley,” she whispered, her voice tight. “Matt’s dad.”

  Matt’s dad? Who was he paying, and for what?

  “Well?” Brinley demanded of the crowd. “Are we gonna keep lettin’ this pup spit on us? He’s already ruined our town’s reputation. How far are we going to let him go?”

  “Brinley, if you’ll quit campaigning against the boy long enough for me to actually question him, we might find out where our bell is.” Honeycutt spit out. “That is what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

  “Someone, has to protect this town,” Brinley countered, defensively.

  Honeycutt stepped up to Blake, all but towering over him, until Angus shifted slightly, in his direction. He retreated a half-step. “So, you stole the bell, again, Barnes.” Honeycutt accused. “It wasn’t funny the first time and it’s definitely not funny now. You’re in a lot of trouble, son.”

  Like Lucy, Angus’ instinct was to step in and fight them all, if that’s what it took to protect Blake, but he reminded himself the real fight here, was for Blake’s self-worth. Angus could fight the physical fight for him, but Blake had to do the rest.

  Angus watched Blake study his avid audience. ’Twas an intimidating bunch, to be sure. For a minute, Angus thought Blake’s earlier determination may have wavered, but he turned his steady gaze back to Honeycutt.

  “I didn’t take the bell.” Blake’s voice was low and firm at first, but grew insistent as he addressed the now silent crowd. “I didn’t take it!” Finally, almost desperately, he turned to Matt, his one-time true friend, his expression begging for Matt’s support. “I swear I didn’t take it,” he whispered.

  Matt stared at him a moment, then turned his head away, just as he’d done earlier, appearing to dismiss Blake’s claim of innocence, as well as their friendship

  Angus watched Blake wilt. The lad had somehow found the courage to stand up to the town, but Matt’s refusal to believe in him was a blow even Angus felt.

  Brinley gave a derisive snort. “See, Blake? Even Matt knows you’re a liar! Did you really think we’d just take your word for it?”

  Angus had witnessed Blake doing and saying many hurtful things in the short time he’d known him, but everything he’d said had been Blake’s truth, as he saw it at the time. The lad was no’ a liar.

  “His word’s good enough for me.” Angus said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Vivian snapped. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Are you serious?” Honeycutt asked Angus. “You’re a stranger here. Why should we care what you think?”

  “Aye.” Angus replied, laying a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “I am an outsider. But I ken that a man’s word is the only thing he truly owns. Blake wouldna betray that. No’ for yer bell, or any other reason.” He looked at Matt, whose face reflected a mixture of gratitude and pride.

  Lucy’s warm fingers circled his arm. ’Twas good to feel her touch, to know they stood together, as one.

  Brinley’s laugh mocked Angus. “You’ve been here, what? A day? And staying with Lucy Barnes, I hear. Well, you can cozy up to her all you want, but that doesn’t change the damage her thieving brother has done to this town and its people.” He turned a look of pure hatred on Blake. “We’ve known this prodigal all his life and he’s as dead sure a liar, and as dead sure guilty, as my boy is a cripple.”

  Lucy’s fingers tightened on Angus’ arm and a few gasps rippled through the crowd.

  “I agree!” An older man’s voice rose above the throng. “A leopard don’t change its spots.”

  “Exactly,” Vivian stated coolly. “He’s already had one pass on the town’s generosity, but he’s gone too far this time. Charges should be brought.”

  “Blake just said he didn’t take the bell, Vivian,” Lucy enunciated slowly.

  Vivian laughed. “I believe he said the same thing, last year.”

  “No. He did not,” Lucy challenged. “He admitted taking the bell as a joke. What he did was wrong, but he didn’t lie about it.”

  Vivian flicked her fingers in the air. “Semantics.”

  “Oh, he’s guilty, all right,” Brinley addressed the small gathering. “And for all we know, Lucy is too. Who’s to say she hasn’t been a part of Blake’s scheme all along?”

  Angus heard Grif’s snarl about the time his own slipped from his throat. They both moved toward Brinley, but Angus was faster.

  “Wait a minute,” Orville called out, stopping him. “Has everyone lost their senses? What evidence does anyone have? If, and I’m saying if, you can prove Blake, or anyone else, took the bell, then you consider charges.” Orville gave Brinley and Vivian a pointed look, then shifted his gaze around the circle of people. “I can’t believe some of you have to be reminded of that.” He craned his neck, studying the crowd until he saw a man in a uniform, off to the side. “And I can’t believe I have to be the one out here saying this, Nate.”

  ’Twas an officer of some kind, Angus surmised, who sauntered forward.

  “Just letting things sort themselves out, Orville. Sometimes they’ll do that if you give them enough time.”

  Orville shook his head. “All these threats and hoopla look like ‘sorting it out’ to you, do they, Nate?”

  A few onlookers still muttered their belief in Blake’s guilt. Angus studied the individual faces of people in the crowd, trying to gauge which way they’d go if trouble broke out. A familiar one stopped him cold. ’Twas the tall man he’d seen in the brush, arguing with Matt’s dad. Fidgeting and clearly nervous, he kept glancing at Brinley.

  As swift as the swipe of a sword, everything fell into place.

  “What if ’twas no’ Blake a’tall. But someone else in yer midst?” Angus challenged the group at large. “Mayhap someone with a grudge against Blake, big enough tae pay tae make it look like the lad took the bell?”

  Murmurs filtered through the crowd and the tall man took a step back. Then another.

  “Are you sure this whole ‘poor innocent boy’ routine, isn’t merely a pretense to impress someone else for a, shall we say…personal gain?” Vivian sneered, swinging her gaze slowly toward Lucy, so everyone would follow.

  Angus clenched his fists, pressing them to his thighs. He would never touch a woman in anger, but by the saints, he ached to. “Och, ye’re a poisonous wench. If I dinna know better, I’d think ye took the bell hoping tae cause a skirmish, just so ye could be in the center o’ it.”

  “How dare y—”

  “Never mind that,” Nate flapped a hand at Vivian and turned to Angus. “What do you mean, if you didn’t know better?”

  “I believe George Brinley, and his acquaintance over there,” Angus tipped his head toward the man trying to fade into the horde of bystanders, “have something tae add. Mayhap about the exchange of some money?”

  All eyes turned from Brinley’s stricken face to the man Angus indicated.

  “Come on out here, Jed,” Nate ordered. When the man didn’t move, he got a second, more pointed warning. “Now!”

  Jed took a few halting steps forward. “Why are you pickin’ on me?” he whined in a gravelly voice. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “That’s it!” the bell-guard hollered. “That’s the voice I heard on the phone, telling me about my slashed tires!”

  “No.” Jed shook his head and tried to back up. “No, I—” He cast a desperate look at Brinley, then at the officer.

  “Stay where you are,” Nate commanded. “Let’s talk about the money, first. I can’t imagine you parting with any. Did someone give you some?”

  Jed shrugged, studying the ground. “I got paid for some work I done.” He crossed his arms over his skinny body, hugging them to his chest. “You know, over at the dairy. I been wor
kin’ nights. Real regular.”

  “Really?” Nate challenged. “I heard they’ve had some lay-offs lately.”

  “That was only temporary.”

  “It was permanent enough the Jenkins’ lost their farm.” Nate reminded him. “Got the money on you?” When Jed hesitated, Nate held out his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Come on, Jed, hand it over.”

  Angus kept an eye on Brinley, who was clearly panicked and looking behind him. Likely, for an escape route.

  Jed grimaced and dug inside his jacket. “Just so you know, it wasn’t my idea!” He handed the envelope to Nate.

  “What wasn’t your idea?” Nate asked, counting the money.

  “Takin’ that bell,” he grumbled. “That was Brinley’s plan!” He pointed a finger at Brinley who tried to appear shocked.

  “That’s a lie!” Brinley looked around at the murmuring crowd. “He’s lying! I swear it.”

  “Nae. I saw ye both,” Angus stepped forward. “In the trees when ye handed him that envelope. Ye argued wi’ him. He wouldna take it at first, until ye added more money.”

  The color drained from Brinley’s face as everyone turned to him. His expression morphed from fear, to anger, to defiance.

  Angus watched Matt hang his head, and his mother cover her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and fright. He sighed, regretting they’d suffer in part, for Brinley’s actions.

  Nate closed the envelope. “This is a lot of money, George. You haven’t worked hard enough to provide your family with so much as an extra pot of beans, in years. Where’d you get this?”

  When Brinley didn’t answer, Floyd Hastings came forward. “I know where the money came from.” Everyone’s attention turned to Floyd, except Brinley’s, who pointedly ignored him. “He’s been getting money every month since the accident.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brinley snapped.

  “Yes, you do.” Floyd challenged. “What you don’t know, is the boxes of food, and the money you’ve been receiving every month, came from Lucy Barnes.” A collective gasp skittered through the crowd. “She gives it to me. I deliver it to you. But I’m guessing you never told Lettie you were getting cash along with the food. Correct? You kept every penny for yourself!” The disgust in Floyd’s voice was unmistakable.