“It’s a guy wearing a dark overcoat and a black hood over his head with eyes cut through so he can see. The hood is tied with a string around his neck to hold it in place. And he wears miner’s boots that are scuffed and ruff. I saw those boots a lot as I died each time.”
Silence for a moment in the big suite.
“So what happens to the medals?” Kelli asked after a moment.
“More than likely melted down at some point along the way,” Bushnell said, shrugging. “By someone who didn’t know what they actually were.”
“That would be a crime,” Kelli said.
Bushnell nodded. “It’s why I kept coming back. To try to stop that from happening.”
Jesse didn’t want to point out to Bushnell that if he hadn’t collected all the medals, more than likely most of them would have survived just fine.
“So what do we do?” Bushnell asked.
“We do as we had planned on doing,” Jesse said, looking at Kelli. “We recover the medals and make sure they get to our normal times.”
“I would appreciate it if you stopped the killing part this time,” Bushnell said. “Getting shot and killed is just not something a person can get used to even after twenty times.”
“We’ll try,” Jesse said, smiling. He had every intention of stopping that part.
“So can we see the medals?” Kelli asked.
“They aren’t here,” Jesse said, clearly surprising her.
Kelli looked at Jesse with a frown.
Damn he was falling so in love with her, he couldn’t believe it.
Bushnell nodded and pointed to his saddlebag. “That’s a bag of quartz rocks I lug around that is close to the weight of the medals. The medals are in a bank safe deposit box in Portland. I get them on the way through headed for Roosevelt, Idaho, each time.”
“And where exactly do the attacks happen?” Jesse asked. He knew the answer, but needed it confirmed.
“Always in the mountains around Roosevelt,” Bushnell said. “I have one man I meet in Roosevelt in June of 1907 to get the last of the medals that I have been able to trace. He sells it to me and I never make it out of those mountains alive.”
Jesse nodded. The miner’s boots made sense. And now he was even more convinced that the crimes were just always a crime of convenience.
“So what do you normally do over the next year between now and then?” Kelli asked.
“For the last five trips back I’ve been working with another researcher. We are researching the riverboats and barges and such that took passengers on the Columbia to coastal towns like this one before the highways were built over the coastal mountain range. I spend the next year with him and then we will be done with that research.”
Jesse nodded. He now had a plan and he knew where Bushnell’s weak point was and how to stop the killer.
“We’re going to leave tomorrow,” Jesse said, “ahead of your meeting and meet you in Portland in a week at your bank.”
Bushnell nodded.
Kelli nodded, watching him.
“We’re going to switch out the medals there when you add the new one to your stash that you get from here,” Jesse said. “We’ll do it in the bank so in case someone is watching, no one will know.”
“Okay,” Bushnell said, but hesitantly.
“We are going to take the medals to Roosevelt and bury them under the floorboards of Janice and Steven’s general store there in Roosevelt. About three feet down in the dirt.”
Janice and Steven were two other researchers and part of the original fourteen, but this time they were there in the general store from another timeline. They had not come through with the bunch of them. But as Duster had told him when he introduced them, “No real difference at all.”
“The flood will cover them,” Bushnell said, looking worried.
Kelli laughed, finally understanding what Jesse was planning.
“The flood will protect them for a century or more,” Jesse said.
“In 2019,” Kelli said, “when you get back, you and I will be in charge of an expedition to dive and recover the medals as we put the final part of the mystery to bed.”
Bushnell looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “I’ll do the research nonfiction book about my distant relative who gathered up the medals and what it was like dealing with the Native Americans of the time, with a focus, of course on the Native Americans.”
“And I’ll do the historical crime book about the medals themselves,” Kelli said, smiling. “And we’ll reference each other’s books and how we solved the mystery through our mutual research.”
“Perfect,” Bushnell said, his face beaming.
Jesse smiled at the smiling face of the woman he was falling head-over-heels for, and then at Bushnell.
“Only one problem,” Jesse said. “We still don’t really know who is doing this and killing you each time.”
“Yeah, that would be nice to know,” Bushnell said. “But if I have to take another bullet for the cause, I will. Don’t want to, but I will.”
“Now that’s commitment to your research,” Jesse said.
And the two researchers laughed.
Jesse wasn’t so sure it was funny. In fact, he was completely convinced that something much deeper was going on. He just didn’t know what.
But killing Bushnell so many times in so many places did not make sense in the slightest. And that had him worried more than he wanted to admit to the researchers.
PART FOUR
The Chase
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
June 2nd, 1907
Roosevelt, Idaho
KELLI WAS AMAZED that it had been almost a year now since Jesse came up with the plan while they were talking with Bushnell on the Oregon Coast. And so far, it seemed to be working fine.
She and Jesse had spent another night on the coast, mostly making love and enjoying the wonderful room.
Then, just before Bushnell finished buying the medal, she and Jesse had headed for Portland about four hours ahead of Bushnell.
She and Jesse had hidden up the trail in the coastal mountain range and had let Bushnell pass them, just to make sure no one was following him.
As Jesse had suspected, there wasn’t. The robbery and murder and loss of the medals took place in Roosevelt.
But they had decided they were still going to take no chances.
They had made the transfer without a problem in the bank. Then she and Jesse had hauled the medals over to Roosevelt by train. She didn’t even allow herself to look at them. She figured there would be more than enough time for that after they dug them up in 2019.
Jesse had figured how to fit the leather-wrapped medals into pockets inside his duster and in a money belt he had bought in Portland.
In Ontario, Oregon, they had left the train with the medals, purchased two horses, and headed for Roosevelt with the medals in a third saddlebag hidden underneath Jesse’s main saddlebag.
They had made it all the way to Roosevelt by July 18th of last summer, transferred the medals into some oilskin bags, sealed them as best they could, and then buried them one late evening in Janice and Steven’s general store under the floorboards and down into the dirt about two feet.
Jesse had asked Janice and Steven for permission, but not wanted them there for their own safety. And he had not told them anything about what they were doing.
They had agreed.
Then over the next few days, Jesse and Kelli had taken some rough measurements and markers so the underwater expedition in 2019 wouldn’t have to dig up too much of the lake bottom.
With the medals safely stored for the future, both Jesse and Kelli had the rest of the summer and the entire winter to wait until Bushnell arrived in Roosevelt.
So they headed back to Boise, not to stay with Duster and Bonnie this time, but to stay in the wonderful mansion that Dawn and Madison had built right beside Bonnie and Duster’s home.
Since Dawn and Madison were now living and running the Monument
al Lodge on the summit above Roosevelt, their home they had built in Boise was free for the summer and winter.
The place was massive, with high ceilings in the entry and main room and dining room. Tall windows let in more than enough light and the tan and brown furnishings were picked by April, who had wonderful taste and knew how to make a room elegant, yet comfortable.
Dawn and Madison’s master bedroom was huge and had a closet larger than Kelli’s first dorm room in college. But both Kelli and Jesse didn’t feel right staying in the master bedroom, so they took over the guest bedroom that had a featherbed that a person could get lost in without much problem.
To Kelli, the summer and winter and spring had been a magical time. She and Jesse just fit together, and both of them had enough projects that held their interest to keep them more than busy.
When the weather allowed, they went into the Idanha Hotel dining room for wonderful breakfasts. Kelli spent most of the days writing in notebooks in the library or at home, getting in as much detail about the history of the medals as she could, while Jesse spent afternoons in the downtown library and listening to old-timers in barber shops and bars tell stories of lost treasures and forgotten crimes.
He had gotten some great stories. A couple ideas Kelli was convinced would make great books after a ton of research.
During the evening, they had wonderful dinners together, usually both of them cooking and learning how to cook with what was available in the time.
Then there were the wonderful nights in a big featherbed.
The longer she spent with Jesse, the more convinced she was she wanted to spend even more time with him.
Years more, actually.
And in May of 1907, as they were packing to head up to Roosevelt, Jesse told her that he felt the same way.
They managed to get up to the Monumental Lodge by May 18th through large snow banks and then down into Roosevelt two days later and settled into the big house that Duster and Bonnie had built just up the stream from the main part of Roosevelt.
The big house was all logs, with a massive main room and three bedrooms in the back. The fireplace kept the house warm and comfortable.
On June 2nd, they finally really went to work as Bushnell arrived.
Jesse had given her lessons over the winter on tailing someone without being seen, and they planned on working together to see if they could spot the robber who would attempt to kill Bushnell.
Bushnell stayed in a cabin up a side creek about a half-mile above the town. He had told them he was always killed near that cabin, usually coming or going, usually within days of getting the last medal.
Kelli had asked Bushnell why he hadn’t tried just staying up at the Monumental Summit Lodge and going down into Roosevelt for the meeting.
Bushnell had said that he had done exactly that. Twice. Both times he didn’t make it back up the trail to the lodge.
Bushnell had seen them in Roosevelt right after he had arrived, nodded, but they had not talked to him as planned.
Now it was up to them to see if they could keep him alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
June 19th, 1907
Roosevelt, Idaho
JESSE GLANCED OVER at Kelli, where she was sitting like a lady on a second story porch above a lawyer’s office fanning herself in the hot afternoon. She had on her riding clothes and he knew her horse was saddled and waiting beside the building. Even from a distance like this, she was still beautiful. Over the last year he had come to love her more than he ever thought possible.
And he respected and admired her mind as well.
The narrow main street of Roosevelt, Idaho, was busy with a few roughly made carts and some men on horseback headed out leading pack horses covered in supplies. But from what Duster had said, this wasn’t as bad as it used to be.
In the high days of this mining town, the main street would get so crowded, pack trains with supplies couldn’t get through. And since no wagon could get in over the trails to this town, only rough carts made in the valley were seen.
But now, today, the sounds of the pianos playing in the saloons echoed from the open doors up through the valley. That music filled the valley every day and night in the summer. It had become a background sound for Jesse now.
Most of the men and the few women now in the valley were still working the mines or running other errands while the sun actually hit the valley floor.
With the steep and high mountains on both sides of the town, the sun wasn’t a regular visitor to this valley. Even in the summer, the town got less than five hours of direct sunlight. The rest of the time the town was in a shadow as the sun lit the mountains around and above it.
Bushnell came out of the far saloon and headed toward the Monumental Stream that ran just past the town on the left. At this time of the year, the stream wasn’t running fast enough to even pretend to do battle with the piano music.
Bushnell was dressed in his standard dark suit, vest, tie, and dark pants. He carried his saddlebag over his shoulder like he always did and it looked heavy.
A miner was waiting for him on a foot trail near the stream. The guy did not look dangerous at all to Jesse.
The miner and Bushnell talked for a moment. Then they both nodded and Bushnell handed the man a small bag, more than likely coins of some sort or small gold nuggets, and the man handed Bushnell something wrapped in cloth.
Bushnell opened it, nodded, shook the man’s hand, tucked the prize in his saddlebag, and turned and headed for his horse.
The miner turned and went down the valley along the trail that was beside the creek, clearly having no more interest in Bushnell.
Now Bushnell had thirty-two of the Washington Peace Medals. Thirty-one were under the general store, the last one in his bag.
From what Jesse could tell, no one was following Bushnell at all.
Or even paying the slightest bit of attention besides him and Kelli.
Jesse mounted up and leisurely headed up the valley along the main road, watching for anyone that might be waiting for Bushnell.
He never saw anyone.
In this narrow valley, there just weren’t a lot of places to hide since all the trees near the town itself had long ago been cut down.
So just before the side trail that led up to Bushnell’s cabin, Jesse ducked into a stand of brush and tied up his horse. Then taking his rifle, he headed up through the brush and into the small side canyon, moving as silently as he could.
He finally reached a spot he had found ahead of time where he could see both the trail coming up and Bushnell’s cabin. He got into position, making sure he was well-hidden.
Bushnell’s cabin was a small log cabin tucked into some tall pine, clearly built by a miner to work a mine just up the stream. But that mine was now shut down and the tunnel caved in. The cabin had been abandoned and Bushnell had told Jesse he had bought it and the mining claim years ago to use.
He knew Bushnell would be coming up the trail and behind him Kelli would be watching to see who followed.
Jesse took a deep breath and scanned everything again. Now was the time they had been working for.
Why did he have a nagging doubt he was missing something and this just wasn’t going to work.
Five minutes later, Bushnell came riding up the trail, his heavy saddlebags draped over his horse in front of him.
Jesse watched as Bushnell got off his horse just outside his cabin, looked around with a look of almost near panic on his face, and then headed into the cabin carrying his saddlebags.
Suddenly, a shot echoed through the narrow valley, clearly coming from the cabin.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Jesse said to himself as he scrambled at a fast run toward the cabin, his rifle in his hands and ready.
There was no back way into the cabin through the log walls, so he knew he had whoever was in there trapped.
The door still stood open and Bushnell was sprawled on the floor just inside the door.
A man stood over
him, watching Jesse come running.
The man’s hands were in the air and he was smiling.
Why in the hell would the man who had just killed Bushnell be smiling?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
June 19th, 1907
Roosevelt, Idaho
KELLI HEARD THE shot while she was still a few hundred yards from the cabin. She kicked her horse into a fast run and grabbed her saddle rifle at the same time.
She came around the corner in the trail and saw Jesse moving slowly toward the open front door, his rifle drawn and pointing at someone inside the door.
Kelli skidded her horse to a stop and jumped off at a run, cocking a shell into the chamber of her lever-action. She went to Jesse’s left to cover him as he moved closer to the door.
“He’s not dead this time,” a voice said from inside the cabin. “Since you’re here finally. Got tired of killing the poor guy, actually, even though I know he doesn’t die.”
Kelli glanced at Jesse who just shook his head without really taking his eyes from the man inside the cabin.
“Come out into the daylight,” Jesse said, his voice carrying a power that Kelli had not heard before. Jesse was not lowering his rifle in the slightest.
The man stepped out of the cabin, his hands up.
The strange man had no gun that Kelli could see. But Jesse didn’t lower his gun, so she didn’t either.
The strange man had short dark hair, wore a dark suit, dark vest, and black jeans and cowboy boots. Kelli noted that he had no hood or miner’s boots or anything that Bushnell had described.
He saw Kelli and instead of being shocked, his eyes sort of lit up, clearly excited.
What the hell was going on here?
Why did he look familiar?
And why was he excited to see her?
The guy was clearly crazy.
Or he had help of some sort.
Lake Roosevelt Page 10