Sooner Dead

by David L Thornburg

  I pleaded with him to calm himself, but he pushed past me and charged to my father’s office. My father was working behind his desk and looked startled when Johnny entered.

  “You, sir, are a reprobate, and your son is a rapist!”

  Was that fear I saw in my father’s eyes? He stood. “Crumpo, you would do well to show yourself out.”

  “Not until my people get satisfaction from you.”

  “Your people?” my father sneered. “I bought your people a long time ago. Look out this window. I own the land they live on, I provide the food they eat, and they dare not lift a hand to me.”

  Johnny stood his ground. “Beware of your hubris, lest you find out our strength.”

  “Their strength is in harness to my will.” I saw my father open a drawer of his desk.

  I stood in front of Johnny. “Daddy, no!”

  The polished pistol caught a ray of light from the window. “Now look, Crumpo, you’ve upset my daughter. I can’t have that.”

  Johnny was backing toward the door. “Wasn’t it enough to exploit us? Must you humiliate us as well?”

  “Go find Greengrass and the others and smooth this thing over,” my father said. “I’m counting on you. I know what your plan was in coming here, before all this happened. Maybe there is room in our family for someone who can control the people of Stone City.”

  I felt as if I were being bartered, then realized that my father would never let Johnny and I marry.

  Johnny knew the same thing, perhaps had known it long ago. He turned to leave.

  I ran after him, but not before I saw my father pick up the phone.

  That was where it all went south, she thought, placing the journal back in her safe. If she were smart, as smart as everyone gave her credit for, she would throw it in the fire. There is no use in letting yesterday’s tragedy become an inconvenience for today.

  But she was so curious. It was her flesh and blood, after all.

  Besides, Sonia Stone thought, I can handle any fallout a 90-year-old diary could cause.

  Chapter 25

  The drive to the reservation was boring, but Sherry Threefeathers’ tale was not.

  “So we have to get that diary back. It’s the key to everything,” Sherry finished.

  “You were attacked?”

  “Are you still back there? That’s not the main part of the story.”

  “Pardon me. So what’s in this journal?”

  Sherry looked sheepish. “I don’t really know. I didn’t get that far before it was stolen. Call it a gut feeling.”

  “A gut feeling? Really?”

  “They’re just as important to archeologists as to cops.”

  Lianne could see her point. “So what do we do?”

  “I’ve been thinking, while it took you hours to get here…”

  “So sorry.”

  “What if the guy who attacked me also stole the journal?”

  “A gut feeling?”

  “You know it.”

  “You should come back to town with me. We can protect you.”

  “I think I’ll take my chances here. Your record of protection in Oak Valley isn’t very good. Just saying.”

  Lianne looked out the doors of Sherry’s bedroom. “What is the story here?”

  “Everybody here is angry that the road construction is going to obliterate any chance of finding out what happened at Stone City. Me included. But my attack kept me from a big strategy meeting this morning. We’re hearing that some other more militant elements are planning to disrupt the dedication ceremony by any means necessary. That worries me. I’m more of a civil disobedience kind of girl.”

  “If there’s any danger of violence, I have to tell Daniel. We should cancel the ceremony.”

  “That works for us. It gives us more time to explore our options.”

  “He’s not going to be happy. He has reasons for wanting it to go ahead,” Lianne said.

  “Boy Wonder might have to learn that he doesn’t always get his way.” Sherry looked at her. “He doesn’t always get his way, does he?”

  Lianne felt her cheeks blush and hated herself for it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You two need to stop the dance and admit how you feel. I’ve watched both of you. I thought he was cute myself at first, but I know enough to stay out of the water if there are live wires floating around.”

  “I need to be getting back. Last opportunity.”

  “I’ll take my chances here.” Sherry petted the Pit Bull puppy that watched their conversation from the bed. “I have all the protection I need right here.”

  Chapter 26

  “I don’t think it’s a problem.” Daniel could tell Lianne was shocked he would say that.

  “If there is the slightest chance of violence, as officers of the law we should do everything in our power to avoid it.”

  She makes me so angry, Daniel thought, but tried to give a reasoned answer. “As officers of the law, we should do everything we can to find out who killed Charlie Dibble and Sheriff Harris.”

  “What if others die?”

  Daniel sighed. “I’ve been around guys like the ones Sherry is worried about my whole life. They talk a big game, but never back it up with any action. The posturing is worse around a pretty woman like her.” He paused. “What’d I say?”

  “Nothing. Please call the Stones and at least warn them.”

  She was probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to give her the satisfaction. “If you want to call Stone Energy about a little squabble on the rez, be my guest. I won’t stop you.”

  Murray Stone ended the speaker phone call and looked at Devose.

  “How did she get your number?” Devose asked.

  “I gave my card to the honorable mayor of Oak Valley. She must have gotten it from him. What do you think?”

  Devose spit some chewing tobacco into a cup. “I’m against anyone from the family returning to Oak Valley, for any reason. Needless risk.”

  “No need for you to have all the fun.”

  “My last trip got me dog bit, shot at, and chased off an Indian reservation.”

  “What were you doing there, anyway?”

  “Company business. You don’t want to know. Really. But at least I made your sister happy on the previous trip.”

  “How so?” Murray asked, wondering if he would get a straight answer. Devose was a holdover from his father’s days, and always seemed to have a hidden agenda. It was a shame not to trust your own chief of security, and yet need him so badly.

  “I liberated that diary from the activist archeologist.”

  “What diary?”

  “From your great aunt, or great-great aunt; something like that. She said you knew.”

  “Nope.” He didn’t trust his sister either, or her wimpy husband. It occurred to Murray that the list of people he did trust was very, very short.

  He could count on Devose to enjoy family intrigues, though. “ Do you think I could get a look at that diary?”

  “No problem.”

  Murray thought he would press his luck. “Did you have anything to do with those deaths in Oak Valley?”

  “Are you asking as my boss?”

  Murray felt his blood temperature drop a few degrees. “I’m asking as Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Stone Energy.”

  Devose sat up in his chair and straightened his tie. “Then no, I had nothing to do with them.”

  Murray was rattled, but he couldn’t let Devose see. He shuffled papers on his desk.

  Devose stood, knocking over his spit cup on the Turkish carpet under the chair he’d vacated, but making no effort to clean it up. “If I could be so bold as to ask the CEO what he intends to do about the Oklahoma trip.”

  Murray said, “It’s still on. We can’t let a bunch of skittish Native Americans keep us from our business. I expect you to join us.”

  Devose nodded and headed to the door.

  Murray stopped him. “And ge
t that diary. See what’s in it. If it could damage the family get rid of it.”

  Later that night, with Sonia and Rudy at some philanthropic event with the shiny, glittery people of Dallas’ 1 percent, Devose entered the sitting room outside Sonia’s boudoir. He pulled a Frederick Remington oil painting away from the wall and opened the safe behind it with ease.

  There among the jewels and gauche stacks of paper money was an old leather-bound journal. He retrieved it and closed the safe and replaced the picture.

  Avoiding the surveillance cameras that he’d personally installed, he put the book in his briefcase and went home.

  Home was an old apartment in a once grand building downtown. For a man who spent his waking hours among the rich and powerful, his abode was almost embarrassingly humble. But what more did he need? No one ever came to visit, certainly not the high and mighty who employed him. Besides, when he was on family business, a company credit card provided him with all the luxuries a man could desire. Unless that business was in the rural backwater of Oklahoma.

  He shed his jacket and tie, opened a beer, and sat on his couch. He read the journal until the morning sun shone through his dirty living room windows. He read it all.

  He wasn’t going to destroy it. Oh, no. One doesn’t destroy a silver bullet.

  Chapter 27

  Daniel and Tony had finished their pie after supper at Zach’s Café when Eileen called Daniel’s cell. They’d spent most of the day searching for anyone who might have a hint of Agent Devose’s whereabouts. They were hampered because they didn’t have a picture, just Daniel’s description.

  Earlier, Tony called an Agent Long with the OSBI and learned there was no one there named Devose. Long was interested that someone was impersonating a law enforcement officer.

  “I’ll get up there as soon as I can get away,” he promised. “I’ll drop everything if you need help with your investigation.”

  Tony looked at Daniel, who shook his head. “I’ve got it handled for now,” he said to Tony’s cell phone speaker. Tony hung up and gave him a look that said he wasn’t so sure. Daniel wasn’t certain either.

  “Yeah,” Daniel said in answer to Eileen. He listened, then said, “Got it. Thanks.” To Tony, he said, “How are you fixed for time?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Patsy at the motel over in Franklin said a well-dressed lawman stiffed her on the bill. She called us to see if we knew anything.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Franklin was 15 miles east of Oak Valley. Long-standing football rivals, Daniel had made the drive many times.

  After a few minutes of driving, Tony said, “So why am I here, Danny?”

  “Like I said earlier, you were a police officer once upon a time. Who better to take with me?”

  “I don’t know, maybe your partner Lianne.”

  “She’s not my partner. As soon as the City Council meets, she’ll be gone. We don’t have to keep whatever agreement Harris had with the Sheriff’s Association. Besides, she’s just not a good fit for the town.”

  “You mean the way she follows rules, or the threat that she might show you up?”

  Daniel’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Look, I haven’t known you your whole life like everyone else in this town, but Stephanie said you were a great player in high school.”

  “Depends on who you ask, I guess.”

  “Don’t be modest. She said Oak Valley would have elected you king after you brought home the state trophy. Then you were recruited to a good university program, local boy makes good, it had to be hard to see it end when you got injured.”

  Daniel’s eyes were stinging. Must have been the harsh coffee at Zach’s. “My dad got hurt, and it basically ended his life. You’ve met him. He’s no good to anyone. I’m not going to let that happen to me.”

  “Being police chief would be a good way to get that respect back. As long as no one gets in your way.”

  “I just want what’s best for Lianne. Ask her yourself. She’s desperate to get back to the big city and set the world on fire.”

  “I’m not so sure. I think her priorities might be changing.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “All I know is she would do anything to prove herself to you.”

  There was silence for a moment, then Daniel said, “I’m starting to regret asking you along.”

  Tony laughed. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

  “My turn to ask some questions.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What’s the deal on Bronson Blake?”

  Tony paused, considering his words. “Completely different from you.”

  “In what way?”

  “You’re trying to prove yourself to everybody, including you, and he’s running from all he’s ever known. I think he would be happy just being a handy man and lay minister around the church. I think his reason for being in Oak Valley is just an excuse to hide out for a while. But I’m no expert.”

  “A little late for that disqualification. I feel like I should pay you for a therapy session.”

  “We pastors call it counseling, and there’s no charge.”

  They pulled into the parking lot of Patsy’s Place, a string of individual cabins that looked like little more than huts. The center hut was marked “Office.” They entered.

  The woman behind the counter was in her sixties, her grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked up. “Danny!”

  “Hello, Patsy. This is Reverend Stratton from the Community Church.”

  “Howdy. Eileen didn’t say she was sending you out here.”

  “We wanted to ask you about this lawman.”

  “He was slicker than a snake oil salesman, with his nice suit and expensive haircut. He paid cash for a week. When that ran out, he was nowhere to be found. I ran the credit card he gave me to reserve the room, but it was declined.”

  Tony asked, “Do you have a record of the card?”

  “I’ve got a copy,” she said, lifting the coin tray out of the cash register and exposing a few checks. “Here it is.”

  It was the carbon copy of a card, the kind made when it was placed in an imprint machine and the top was slid over it.

  “May I look at it?” Tony asked. She handed it over, and he wandered off, making a call on his phone.

  “Can we see his room?” Daniel asked Patsy.

  “The one thing he said was to stay out of his room. No cleaning, no nothing. But I guess I don’t have to follow his wishes anymore, do I?”

  She led Daniel outside and walked toward the furthest cabin. Tony finished his call and fell in behind them.

  She inserted the key and turned the lock. No magnetic key cards for Patsy’s Place.

  The room was as dismal on the inside as it looked on the outside. The main room held two chairs with a table, a bed, and a chest of drawers with an old TV that would take two men to lift. The bathroom was barely the size of a closet.

  Tony opened the drawers while Patsy watched from the doorway. “Nothing.”

  Daniel lifted the mattress off the box springs. Underneath was a leather-bound book, 3 feet by two feet. He pulled it out. Embossed on the spine was Oak Valley Sentinel, January – June, 1927.

  “What on earth is that?” Patsy asked.

  “Patsy, do you mind making us some fresh coffee?” Daniel said in a tone that let her know it wasn’t really a request.

  She huffed, but left.

  Tony said, “OK, I’ve got the same question. What on earth is that?”

  “This,” Daniel answered, “is the reason Charlie Dibble was murdered.”

  “That sounds like a win. Let’s grab it and go.”

  After a quick look around with no further discoveries, Daniel told Patsy someone would be in touch about the bill.

  “Can I rent it to someone else?”

  Daniel imagined Devose coming back for his prize and not finding it. “No, you’d better leave it empty. If he comes back, call me,
you hear?”

  Driving back after nightfall, Tony asked, “What’s the next step?”

  “Get the ledger back to the station and see what all the fuss is about. Want to join me?”

  “No thanks. That’s a job for your partner.”

  “I told you, she’s not…” Giving up, he pulled out his phone. “Lianne, where are you? Really? Is she OK? Since you’re on your way back to town, can you meet at the station? There’s been a development.”

  He hung up. From the dark of the passenger seat, Tony said, “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Chapter 28

  Lianne whistled as she ran her fingers over the leather cover of the newspaper journal. “If I’d known this was what you had, I would have gone back to get Sherry.”

  Daniel shook his head. “We don’t know what’s in here that might set her or her friends off. You and I need to keep ahead of this.”

  You and I? The phrase surprised her.

  “Coffee’s on,” he said.

  And he made coffee. A night of firsts. “Let’s get to it, then.” She got out a notebook and pen. “You examine, I’ll take notes.”

  Daniel opened the cover. “What are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know. Start by turning the pages.”

  He carefully turned over the first page. “Saturday, January 1st, 1927. Editor is William Delacroix. Headline is ‘Oak Valley Celebrates New Year.’”

  He turned a few newsprint pages. “These are so fragile. Here’s the next edition. January 9. I guess it was a weekly, published on Saturdays.”

  They went that way, page by page. Lianne was tired from the day, and the closer they got to the end, the more it looked like they would come up dry. Still, she appreciated Daniel’s dedication to the task. After all, this wasn’t the fun part of law enforcement.

  “June 18. Governor Johnston visits Oak Valley. Denies corruption allegations. I guess some things never change.”

  Lianne said, “If I remember my high school history, Henry Johnston was impeached for general incompetence and removed from office a couple of years later.”