Lorraine got up and refreshed their cups. “Then the night after she disappeared, someone snuck in here and took her things out of her room, and it was just like she’d never been here. And I haven’t heard anyone mention her since.”
****
Ike came through the front door and strode by the kitchen on the way to his room.
Margaret shouted, “Mr. Porter!”
Ike backtracked to the kitchen. He leaned in and nodded to Lorraine and Margaret, who had a hand partway up in the air toward him. “Yes, ma’am, do you need something?” He flexed his wounded shoulder slightly.
Lorraine got up from the table. “That arm ain’t healed up yet, cowboy, and it looks like it’s a bother. You come in here now and let me take a look at it.” The way she said it, Ike didn’t want to argue with her. She led Ike over to the sink and told him to take off his shirt.
Ike flinched as she took an old clean dishtowel, soaped it up, and lightly scrubbed around the bullet hole.
She looked up at him. “Keep this cleaner, hear?” She dried him off and wiped her hands on a well-used apron, then said, “Margaret wants to talk to you about something. Both of you scoot on out of here now. I got other things to do around here.”
Margaret said, “Do you?”
Lorraine threw a hand up and nodded. “I got plenty of things that need doin’, and they don’t need doin’ with you two around, so why don’t you just go sit in the parlor for a spell. Now, get.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned back to an already-clean stove.
It took a while for Ike to put his shirt back on. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“Would you mind sitting with me for a minute, Mr. Porter?” She gestured toward the parlor.
“After you.” As they left the kitchen, Ike glanced back to see Lorraine heave a soggy dishtowel across the room.
Ike sat still across from Margaret until she broke the silence. “I had another visit from Doctor Early this morning.”
Ike nodded.
“He told me something new about how George died.” She paused. “And he said you’d been around asking him about George’s death.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Margaret worried the hanky in her lap again. “I just don’t understand!” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, I’m just so…confused.”
“So that’s what this is about? You want to know why I went to see Doc?”
“If you would, please.” She fanned herself.
Ike decided not to share everything he and Buster had discovered around the fire pit. “Well, I learned two things out there where he was killed. First, it looks like your husband was shot with a .36 caliber bullet. Now, those aren’t common in these parts, so it narrows the number of folks who might have shot him. The thing―”
Margaret interrupted, “Who around here has such a gun?” She stared at Ike.
He evaded her question. “Don’t know who all might have one at this point.” He debated whether to tell her what he and Buster thought George was doing out there. He wasn’t sure that he did know why her husband was out there.
“What’s the second thing you found?”
“Well, we were tryin’ to figure out why he was out there in the first place. Likely he was meetin’ someone there, and there could have been several reasons for that, but a thought that’s been naggin’ at me is that George might have told my sister somethin’ that he shouldn’t have.”
“Sorry, but I don’t understand what that means.”
“Well, if George knew something that was bad enough to get him killed, and he told Sue about it too, then she might have been the next target.”
Margaret stiffened. “So that’s why you’ve been looking into George’s death?”
“Yes. There’s other reasons George could have been out there, but Buster and me think he knew somethin’ bad, and that’s why someone killed him.”
“That’s one of the first bits of new information about George I’ve ever had, Mr. Porter. Thank you. It’s hard to hear, but thank you for telling me.” Margaret sat up straight. “Now we need to find out what happened to Sue, don’t we?”
Ike nodded. He hadn’t made much progress in that department. “And soon.”
Chapter Twenty
The front door to the boarding house opened and closed as Ike and Buster sat at the dining room table. It was Hugh Walnutt. Buster saw him first. “Welcome back, Professor. How was your trip?”
Walnutt lowered himself into a chair. “It was successful indeed, Buster. I learned some surprising things, more than I hoped. I am glad I made the journey, even if it did tax me.”
Ike nodded a hello in between chewing on tonight’s tough roast beef.
“Yes, well, I would have taken the stagecoach, but it only runs once a week and was probably bumpier than riding. Although I must say, the trail over Kenosha Pass was a bit treacherous. But it was worth it as I learned some things in Denver that you might be interested in knowing too, Mr. Porter.”
Ike looked up from his food. “Like what, Professor?”
Walnutt launched into a long-winded retrospective. “First things, first. I initially felt compelled to make the trip because of what I’d heard in Denver before ever alighting here, and also because my suspicions were further aroused after my arrival in Cottonwood.”
“It’s a simple question, Professor. What did you find out in Denver?” Ike’s familiar annoyance with the Englishman surfaced again, but he pushed it back.
“A reasonable question, my good man.” He paused to take small sips from a steaming cup of hot coffee. “Nearly as soon as I arrived by stage here about three months ago now, I overheard a number of conversations about someone who directed affairs here in Cottonwood, and how he did it. They were referring to Major Tompkins, of course. In order to learn of these things, naturally I had to spend time in certain establishments where tongues eventually are loosened by distilled spirits.”
“The Wildfire Saloon,” Ike said to no one in particular.
“I knew you would grasp my meaning, Mr. Porter. I suspect that Buster did as well, as he is a denizen of those surroundings.”
Buster said, “I ain’t never been a denizen in my whole life.”
Lorraine stifled a giggle while the professor backtracked. “I meant no offense, Buster, I was merely making an observation.”
“Why don’t you get to the point, Professor?” Ike was tiring of the verbal dance, but truth be told, the man was holding his interest.
Lorraine chimed in. “Yeah, get to the point, will you?”
The professor continued. “So, after my interest was piqued, I wanted confirmation that what I thought was true, was indeed, true.”
“The point, Professor.” Ike drummed his fingers on the oak dining table.
“I am getting there, sir. You see, I had heard that Major Tompkins had a colorful past, to put it mildly. According to him, he arrived here from Kentucky. I learned this, of course, when I called on him at the Emerald Valley Ranch. I went there under the guise of gathering personal stories of successful men of the American West for my upcoming lecture series. He seemed somewhat short at our get-together, not necessarily in stature, if you get my meaning.” Walnutt uttered a small British laugh, which turned into a polite cough when no one responded.
Ike rolled his eyes. “Keep goin’.”
“As I said, he indicated Kentucky was his previous residence, but when I asked him some additional questions, he parried all my ensuing inquiries regarding his background. I wasn’t with him very long before he ended our tête-à-tête and ushered me out of the ranch house. I sensed he didn’t believe my cover story about doing research and was not going to avail himself further in my regard. A rather large fellow he referred to as ‘Kelly’ subsequently made sure I left the premises promptly.”
Ike leaned toward the professor. “Did he mention anything else about his background?”
“No, he was quite circumspect, which aroused my suspicions e
ven more. Most successful people I have met jump at any opportunity to share how accomplished they are. I should know, I do.” Another short chuckle that brought no reaction. He cleared his throat. “Regardless…I determined then and there to investigate further, which prompted my excursion to Denver.”
Lorraine interjected. “What’s in Denver that made you want to go there?”
“The telegraph, my good—” and he stopped short before finishing the phrase.
Ike said, “Why’d you want a telegraph?”
“Well, when I got there, I sent some messages back east you see, and I was waiting for the replies. I have found that a man only hides what he does not want others to know, so I decided to look into the major’s past, to see if I could determine where he actually came from. From the looks of him, it’s obvious he saw action of some sort in your Civil War. What with his old gray uniform and golden epaulets that he wears occasionally, he does present a somewhat commanding presence.”
“You said Denver?” Ike laid his knife and fork down.
“Yes. I used the telegraph lines there. The lines go back east, from whence I came out to this Colorado territory. I queried some associates of mine in several different states, including Kansas, whereupon I was pleased to find that one of my sources did indeed know something about the ‘major.’ The information all came about quite by happenstance, you see.”
“How so?” Ike said.
“Well, on my initial journey to Colorado, I took the stage through Kansas and stopped in Wichita for an evening. In order to further my research, the next morning I stopped by the local newspaper office. In my subsequent discussions with the editor, he proceeded to launch into a discourse on the criminal elements still circulating in Kansas and elsewhere after your Civil War. He mentioned that there were still Quantrill’s Raiders roaming throughout the state, but that most of them had skedaddled elsewhere. That was his word, ‘skedaddled,’ with which I am unfamiliar.”
Ike said, “What of it?”
“Ah, a very good question. As I said, when I visited with Major Tompkins, my suspicions were aroused by his evasiveness. When I mentioned him to this editor, he said he didn’t know a Major Tompkins. On the off chance that Tompkins might well have changed his name, I wondered what else was distinctive about him that I might relay to my friend.”
Ike perked up. “His gun.”
The professor smiled. “Precisely. His pistol. It’s a LeMat revolver, used by the Confederate Army during the Civil War.”
Ike continued the description. “An over and under design that fires both cartridges and grape. Uncommon at best.”
“Exactly, Mr. Porter. And when I mentioned Tompkins’ LeMat to the Wichita editor, he came up with another name immediately. He said Ross Manning, one of Quantrill’s lieutenants during his raiding years, wore one of the only ones he ever saw. Said that Manning participated in the Lawrence raid back in ’63.”
Ike’s stomach leaped. After all these years, he was about to close in on his prey. He wanted to jump right up and leave for Emerald Valley, but he also wanted to hear the rest of what the professor found out. A familiar adrenaline rush made his heart thump in his chest.
Lorraine leaned toward the table. “So you’re saying that Zeke Tompkins is really somebody named Ross Manning? So what?”
Ike said to her, “You do have a way of getting to the point.” For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope about finding out what happened to Sue.
Buster said, “I heard of Manning, miss. He’s a bad fella. They say he killed lots of people back in Kansas during the war, and now it sounds like he’s hidin’ out here, running roughshod over this town and the land around it. A man like him is likely up to somethin’ more than just runnin’ a ranch, and my guess is whatever it is ain’t no good.”
The professor continued. “The editor said the rumor was that Manning left Kansas several years ago because of reprisals. Raiders all around him were mysteriously dying, by ones and by twos.”
As daylight fled, Ike stared out the small dining room window and excused himself from the table. He strode back down the narrow hallway to his room. He’d found Manning. His heart raced and his palms sweat in eager anticipation of finally coming face to face with the man who killed his folks.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ike was gathering up gear in his bedroom when Lorraine burst into the room.
“Shouldn’t you knock?” he told her, stuffing belongings in his saddlebag.
“No, and don’t try to throw me off, Ike Porter. Just what do you think you’re doing?” Lorraine stood with that same hand to her hip.
“Manning killed my pa. It’s a sure bet he’s also involved in Sue’s disappearance too.”
“That may be, but you can’t just go bargin’ onto the Emerald Valley and take Tompkins, I mean Manning, and Kelly down by yourself.”
Ike looked around for his gun belt. “Some things you don’t sit and reason out, some things you just do. Ever since we came to Colorado, we suspected it was Tompkins that we were lookin’ for. We just had a gut feelin’ about it.”
Lorraine said, “We? Who’s we?”
“Me and my brother, Rob. And Sue. The three of us. Guess I didn’t exactly tell you the truth about how Sue ended up here in Cottonwood.” He continued filling the saddlebag.
“What didn’t you tell me?” Lorraine had a hard-bitten look on her face.
“Back in Lawrence, after me and Rob had cleaned the raiders out some around there, the three of us put together a plan to find out if it was Manning that was here in Colorado, but Sue jumped the gun and lit out for Denver by herself. There wasn’t any truth to the idea that she just wanted to come out on her own. Me and Rob stayed behind in Kansas so I could heal up more, and he could run the farm while we were waitin’ to hear for sure.” Ike took his thin blanket off the bed and rolled and tied it tight.
“What made you think Tompkins, er, Manning, was out this way?” Lorraine sat in the room’s single chair on top of Ike’s holster.
Ike looked around the small room for his gun. “We’d heard Manning was still alive. We just didn’t know where he’d disappeared to. When the sheriff back in Lawrence told us one of the killers might be in Colorado, we put together a plan to find out if it was him. The sheriff said he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it was the first solid lead we’d ever had about the murderer’s possible whereabouts.”
The professor maneuvered past Buster and into the bedroom. “You mean your parents were murdered in Quantrill’s raid on Lawrence? My goodness, sir, I had no idea there was a connection to you there. If I had been aware of such a personal history, I can assure you I would have been more tactful in conveying the results of my research, Mr. Porter.”
Ike nodded to the professor and drew in a deep breath. “Well, that brings up another thing—there’s more. First off, my name’s not Porter. It’s McAlister. Porter’s a name I use when I don’t want anyone to know who I am, which was the case when I first came to Cottonwood.”
Lorraine jumped up from the chair and waggled a finger rapidly at him. “Well, there’s sure a lot we don’t know about you, isn’t there? Is there anything you’ve told us that’s the truth?”
“Well, Ike is my real first name. That’s the truth.” He braced himself for more.
She stomped her foot on the floorboards. “You know what I mean.”
Ike stared back at her. “I never meant to deceive you, Miss Lorraine. I just couldn’t tell you or anyone else the real reasons I was here. What was true, though, is that I came out here looking for Sue after she disappeared. The part about me needin’ to hear from her regular was true, too. It was when I didn’t get a letter from her on time that I knew something was wrong. Sue wouldn’t have missed writing me if she was okay. When her letter didn’t come, that’s when I set out for here.”
“So, that’s it? That’s the whole story?” Lorraine maintained her peeved stance.
“Well, almost. The only other thing is that my brot
her is out here too.”
Buster piped up. “You got a brother ’round here? Now?”
“Yup, I do, but up until this point it’s been better for him that no one knows who he really was, or where he was.”
Lorraine looked up at him. “Well, where is he?”
“Workin’ at the Emerald Valley ranch.”
The three of them stood and stared at Ike, speechless.
“Guess I could have told you some of this earlier.” He looked around at their blank faces.
The professor broke the silence. “That is the reason the three of you are out here?”
“Well, as I said, there was a plan behind all this. Bottom line is, me and Rob been tryin’ to find Manning and his goons ever since the war. When our sheriff tipped us off recently that I might want to consider lookin’ in Colorado, Sue snuck out to Denver to try to find out if it really was Manning out here. She’s a tough one, even though she’s young and got a lame arm and might not look it. She’s been through a lot growin’ up, and she ain’t no softy. I figured she’d get on either in Denver or some other town, and would be able to keep her ear to the ground. Which is just what happened.”
Lorraine was still wide-eyed. “Why’d she come out here to Cottonwood?”
“Well, she came out to Denver first, and by askin’ around heard some vague rumors about a big spread in South Park run by a suspected former raider and the outlaws he brought from Kansas. It fit who we were lookin’ for, even though his name was different, so she wrote me about it, and I sent Rob out to try to get on with him.”
“Don’t that beat all.” Lorraine stared at her boarder and sat back down.
“That brings up a subject about which I have been meaning to inquire,” the professor said. “Do you know how Tompkins, er, Manning, came up with the money to buy the ranch and all those cattle?”
“Well, that’s another part of the puzzle that points to Manning bein’ a raider. There was a gang that operated here in South Park back in the early sixties called the Reynolds gang. They were Confederate irregulars too, so Manning either knew ’em personal or knew about ’em. Now the Reynolds gang ran roughshod over the whole valley here durin’ the war, robbin’ these little towns and stickin’ up stagecoaches that were makin’ runs from Fairplay to Denver. They stole lots of cash, as well as gold dust from the mines the stages were carryin’.” Ike had been doing some of his own research. He’d spent time at a nearby mining camp acquiring dynamite and learned about the gang and their raids.
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