by Kari Bovee
She opened the trunk.
As she suspected, no gun, but a farrier’s file lay next to the burlap sacks. She picked it up. Glinting in the yellow light, Annie could see flecks of gold embedded in the threads of the metal.
Breathing hard, her hands shaking, she grabbed one of the burlap bags and pulled open the ties. Peering inside, she found gold coins. Hundreds of them. She pulled one out and inspected it. On the face, she read the letters CSA 20 Dollars. She blew her breath out in a whistle. There must be thousands of dollars worth of coins in the two burlap sacks.
“Confederate States of America,” she whispered. But LeFleur and the Colonel were Union soldiers. She suddenly remembered Bobby and his words “yellow-bellied traitor.” A traitor. Annie’s father used to tell her stories of soldiers who would play both sides of the war, Confederate soldiers who would give information to the Union generals and vice versa. They were often paid, but would they have been paid this much?
It all started to come to her in a torrent of thoughts and images, crashing in her mind like tidal waves breaking over the rocky shore.
Annie looked up from the coin and saw LeFleur standing at the opening of the tent, staring at her. Annie’s chest caved in, and she fought for air.
“What are you doing, Annie?”
Annie gulped, held out the coin.
“You’re a traitor. That’s the secret Bobby kept for you.”
“Move away from the trunk, Annie.”
“The oleander, in Bobby’s pockets—he found it in your belongings. You must have stolen it from Twila. She admitted to tainting Buck’s water, but the tea? She swore she didn’t kill Kimi. You must have. You must have put the oleander in the tea. Then, after it took affect, you wiped the foam from her mouth with her scarf and threw it away from the body. She knew your secret—Kimi knew your secret.”
LeFleur came toward Annie, holding up his hands.
“You’ve got it wrong, Annie. Step away from the trunk.”
Annie bent down and picked her gun up off the floor. She aimed it at him. The tent flap opened.
“Mr. LeFleur, I—” Bobby froze when he saw Annie aiming the gun at LeFleur.
“Bobby, come over here.” Annie’s eyes darted from LeFleur to Bobby and back to LeFleur.
Bobby started to move, and LeFleur grabbed him and swung his other arm around Bobby’s neck, choking him. Bobby’s face turned pink and his mouth gapped open, searching for air.
Annie aimed her pistol to the ceiling and shot.
Surprised, LeFleur let his grasp slip from Bobby, let him go, then turned toward the tent flap to run. A loud click stopped him in his tracks. Bobby had pulled his gun and had it aimed at LeFleur’s head.
“I wouldn’t try that again, Derence.” Annie said. “Bobby’s a pretty good shot and all, but you know I won’t miss. Back him up, Bobby. Clear the door—the others will be coming any minute.”
As if on cue, the Colonel and Detective Jonas sprang through the tent flap. Immediately assessing the situation, Jonas pulled his gun and aimed it at LeFleur.
“What the Sam Hill—?” The Colonel’s eyes grew wide. He raised an arm, the fringe on his coat swinging.
Annie turned her gun on the Colonel, dipped her hand into the gold coins and held them out to him.
“You know anything about these?”
The Colonel blinked. “Gold?”
“Confederate gold.”
“Confederate—?” His eyes shifted over to LeFleur. “You son of a bitch. What are you doing with Confederate gold?”
“He was a spy,” Bobby said, “a yellow-bellied, traitor spy.”
LeFleur tilted his head back, biting his lips, probably trying to figure out a way to talk himself out of this mess, or run.
“That gold’s been missing for years.” The Colonel’s shoulders slumped, his face crestfallen. “The government as good as gave up looking for it. And it was here, right under our noses.” He looked up at LeFleur. “You bastard. You put all of it at risk, our partnership, our show, our people—our country.”
“I was due, Colonel. I’d put so much of myself in the war. I was due.” LeFleur said through clenched teeth.
“We all sacrificed in that war, Derence. You made an oath, a promise. And then you lied. You stole.”
“I stole that money for the North, Colonel. I did, I swear. But then I realized it wouldn’t solve anything. It couldn’t fix the hate—but it could fix me.”
Annie, adrenaline still racing through her body, lowered her pistol, now sure in the fact that the Colonel had nothing to do with LeFleur’s gold. She saw a rifle leaning against the back corner of the tent, went to it, and tossed it to him. He gave her a nod and hefted it under his arm.
“I didn’t put it together at the time,” Annie took in a deep breath, “but when I came in here to look for the gun—”
“What gun?” The Colonel asked.
“The rare gun, owned by LeFleur, the one he used to shoot Carver. The same gun that was found in Twila’s possession.”
“A LeMat,” Detective Jonas said. “A gun used exclusively by Confederate generals.”
Annie walked around the side of the desk, her pistol at her side, and stopped, looking hard at LeFleur.
“You used my suspicions about Twila poisoning Buck’s water to your own advantage, didn’t you, Derence? After you shot Carver. You used the information I gave you, worried that I’d figure out that you’d poisoned Kimi, and planted the gun among Twila’s things.”
LeFleur turned to address Annie, and Bobby shoved the pistol up to LeFleur’s head. “You can’t prove I shot Carver,” LeFleur said.
“We’ve already proven it was your gun,” said Jonas.
“And I saw the gunpowder on your hands, before we discovered Carter’s body,” Annie said.
“That damn Carver wasn’t looking to find dirt on me.” The Colonel let out a bemused chuckle. “He must have had his suspicions about you. He’d been tracking you the whole time. He must have been getting close to finding out your secret.”
“I found a gold coin in my tent.” Annie leaned against the desk, trying to calm the shaking in her limbs. “On the floor next to my trunk. The image of the letters had been filed off. It was a strange place to find such a thing, and then I noticed the tea I had purchased was gone. You must have emptied the tin after you killed Kimi, so no one could trace the murder back to you.”
“It’s a lie, Detective. I had nothing to do with Kimi’s death,” LeFleur said.
“Bobby, tell the detective,” Annie said.
“I saw the oleander on Mr. LeFleur’s desk and snatched it before he could hurt any one else. She was gone. Kimi was gone, and I had to hide the poison so he couldn’t—”
“So you put it in your pocket,” Annie said.
Bobby let out a gasp and his shoulders shook. The pistol slipped from the side of LeFleur’s head. In a split second, LeFleur turned, grabbed Bobby’s gun, shot Detective Jonas, and put Bobby in a head-lock with the gun next to his temple.
“Detective Jonas!” Annie started to run toward him as he sank to the ground, but LeFleur lifted the gun from Bobby’s temple and trained it on Annie.
“Don’t do it,” the Colonel said.
Annie looked over and saw the Colonel aiming his rifle at LeFleur.
She raised her gun again, and also pointed it at LeFleur.
“You are outnumbered, Derence. Put the gun down,” the Colonel said.
Annie stole a quick glance at the detective, who was sprawled on the floor next to the tent flap, unconscious, blood pooling beneath his body.
“I tried to tell you, Annie,” Bobby croaked.
“Shut up, boy!” LeFleur jerked Bobby’s head back further, tightening his grip on his throat. Bobby gasped.
“Let up, Derence,” Annie said. “He’s just a boy. Let him go.”
“Yes.” LeFleur’s face took on a sneer. He must have loosened his grip slightly, as Bobby was no longer gasping, but his face stayed rigid w
ith fear. “A boy. A boy I treated as my own son, just like you did, Colonel. We’re his only parents, for godsakes. Can you imagine what I felt, just now, when he pointed that gun at my head—my own boy.”
“You killed Kimi! I’ll never forgive you.” Bobby started gasping again.
“Let the boy go, Derence,” the Colonel said. “I won’t feel sorry about shooting a goddamn traitor.”
LeFleur laughed, his voice like the hiss from a snake.
“You’d never risk shooting this boy. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to leave, and you won’t make a move because you might hit your only living son, right, Colonel? You have a blood daughter now, but she’s a half-breed squaw. Nothing like this precious boy to carry out your legacy and run this damn circus when you’re gone, if he behaves and I don’t kill him first.”
LeFleur started to drag Bobby out of the tent, and Annie raised her pistol. She squinted her left eye shut, aimed, and shot LeFleur right above his ear. His head jerked forward, his arms released, and Bobby fell to the floor, gasping.
“Bobby, are you alright?” Annie ran to him.
“I was going to tell about the gold, Annie. I swear I was. I wanted to tell the Colonel. I just couldn’t find the right time or enough courage. Mr. LeFleur was like family to me, and I didn’t want you to turn him in. He would have hanged. Hanged for sure. But I didn’t know he’d actually kill someone, and once it started, he threatened to kill me.” Bobby’s words came out in a rush. His body shook, his limbs nearly flopping. His face had gone white and his lips blue.
The Colonel came over, his face clouded in anger.
“Why didn’t you say something, Bobby? LeFleur was a traitor, a Confederate traitor. He killed my . . . Kimi, my daughter, my—and you didn’t come to me?”
Annie held up a hand. “Colonel, not now. He’s in a state of shock. Get a blanket and check Detective Jonas.”
The Colonel went to LeFleur’s bed, dragged the other quilt off it, and brought it to Annie. She bundled Bobby in it the best she could as he slumped against her.
“Still alive,” the Colonel said, leaning over Detective Jonas. “Shot in the arm. I suspect he’s unconscious from hitting his head. He’ll come to in a bit.”
“I kn-kn-know where Buck is,” Bobby said through chattering teeth. “Mr. LeFleur took him over to Samson’s, a horse trader on the other side of town. I t-t-told him not to do it, I begged him. I know what that horse m-m-means to you. But he was angry with you, awful angry, and he said he’d kill me—and you—if I opened my mouth. He’d already killed Kimi and Carver, made Lillie sick—”
“And also killed Twila?” Annie asked, looking at the Colonel, who lowered his head and held a hand over his eyes.
“I believed we were next, if I said a word.”
“Yes. He tried to kill me with the chocolates, but Lillie had opened the box and began eating them before I got back to my tent.”
Bobby wiped his nose. “He was half out of his mind that night. He’d almost k-k-killed Lillie, but couldn’t forgive himself for almost killing you. He was in l-l-love with you, Annie. And as soon as Frank left, he f-f-felt you two had a chance. After that, he felt safer having you here, under his nose. He thought he could control you, so he took Buck.”
Annie pulled Bobby closer to her, trying to steady his shaking body. Everything made sense now. A sense of relief washed over Annie, but something else tainted it. She could taste it in her mouth—the tangy, metallic taste of evil. She shook her head. All this death and mayhem—over a little gold.
CHAPTER 27
“Stash of Confederate Gold Found Thanks to Anonymous Tip. Stash Awaiting Transport by Federal Marshals to Louisiana Mint.”
St. Louis Times – April 28, 1885
On the way back from Samson’s, the stagecoach rocked back and forth on the gutted dirt road. Annie swayed with the motion, her heart broken and her soul dampened, the life squeezed from it like water from a soiled rag. Buck had been sold the day he’d arrived, and the horse trader refused to tell who’d bought him. She’d lost everything.
As the stage passed through the gates of Forest Park Camp, Annie steeled herself. She’d already packed her bags, but now she’d leave without Buck and face an uncertain future back in Ohio. At least no one had been charged in LeFleur’s devilry—or his death. Bobby had been cleared of any involvement, and the sheriff didn’t press any charges against Annie, as she had stabbed McCrimmon and shot LeFleur in self-defense. A betrayed and despondent Twila, they concluded, had actually committed suicide. Emma had written a long story about the murders that newspapers across the country and in Europe picked up. Luckily, she toned down the drumbeat that would have kept Annie’s name in the spotlight, for which Annie felt grateful.
The coachman stopped in front of the Colonel’s tent, and Annie entered to find the Colonel and Bobby. Both of them stood up upon seeing her.
“No, please sit down,” Annie said. They’d been treating her like some kind of hero—both swore she’d saved their lives, and in a way she had, but she still didn’t like being treated like a saint.
She told them she hadn’t been able to retrieve Buck.
“Look here,” said the Colonel, “I know you’re sad about losing that horse—you loved that horse like your own family—we often do—but one of these days, you’ll find another one that suits you. You can trust me on this, Annie.”
“Thank you, Colonel, but that doesn’t seem possible—”
The Colonel’s face brightened, his blue eyes renewed with life.
“We’ll all get a fresh start in Kansas City. What do you say?”
Annie drew in her top lip, hating to speak, hating to squash his new chance at hope.
“I’m not going, sir. I must go home.”
“I was afraid you might say that.” The Colonel took off his hat and held it in his hands, studying the crown. “We could sure use you right now, Annie. Bobby and Lillie are fine entertainers, but the people are hankering to see Annie Oakley. We’ve taken a hard hit at the show, and I swear you are the only one who could sure make our audiences forget we ever had spies and murderers among us.”
His words tugged at her heart.
“I just can’t, sir. Please understand.”
The Colonel put his hat back on his head, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a wooden box. After setting it on the table, he opened it and reached inside, retrieved some paper bills and handed them to Annie.
“That’s two hundred dollars, your monthly salary and a bit more for good measure. You have your train ticket, and this should be of some help to your family when you get home.”
Annie took the money and folded the bills in her hands.
“Thank you so much, sir. It will be a good start. I appreciate it.”
The Colonel smiled with his lips closed.
“Would you ever consider coming back to us?” Bobby asked.
Annie turned to him. “Perhaps, someday.”
“It’s been a pleasure working for you, sir—even for a brief time.” Not one to belabor sad moments, Annie stood up and held her hand out to the Colonel. “You changed my life, and I’m ever so grateful.”
The Colonel raised himself from the chair, swept his hat off his head, and placed it over his heart. He then took Annie’s hand in his.
“The pleasure has been all ours, Annie Oakley, best little sharpshooter in the entire United States, and a hell of a cowgirl, too. I’m sorry to lose you, and you write to me when things improve.”
Annie’s breath caught in her throat as she shook the Colonel’s hand. She then turned to Bobby, offered him a trembling smile, and tousled his hair, much like she would John Henry’s. Without waiting for another word, she turned on her heel and quickly left the tent, afraid she would crumple up like a rag doll.
She fought off tears as she slipped into her tent for the last time. Lillie sat at the vanity, her head bent over pen and paper.
When she heard Annie enter, she rose and faced her.
“You’re back. Did you find your horse?” Lillie seemed more animated. Her bright and rosy skin glowed. She wore a finer gown than Annie had ever seen her wear, and her eyes were no longer red and droopy. Lillie appeared to be sober. Annie smiled inside, but then told Lillie about Buck.
“What are you going to do, Annie?”
“I’m going home.”
“I suppose you would, especially if you couldn’t find Buck. I’m sorry to lose you, Annie.” She paused to smile, dimples creasing her plump cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to miss you.”
Annie smiled in return. “And I, you, Lillie. You’re all right.”
“I’m mending my ways, Annie. You’ve inspired me. I and about a thousand girls want to be just like you.”
Afraid she would burst out in ridiculous sobs, Annie planted a hand over her mouth and drew in a deep breath.
Lillie seemed to be fighting back tears too, but her face took on a different demeanor—like she was about to deliver important news.
“Now, I know it’s none of my business and that I shouldn’t pry, but I have something to give you.” She held out a small piece of paper.
Annie took it, read what she’d written on it, then looked up at Lillie, waiting for an explanation.
“That’s Frank’s family’s address in Lexington. Before he left he made me promise to give this to you. He said he’d welcome a letter, if you felt inclined, once you finished being angry with him.”
“I don’t think so, Lillie, but thank you.” She handed the paper back to Lillie.
Lillie frowned, but didn’t pressure her further.
“I think I’d like to go to bed,” Annie said. “I would like to get to the train station some time tomorrow, so I’ll have to get up early to pack.”
“I should probably get some shut-eye, too.” Lillie ran her hand along her bed, made for once. “I hear we’ll be packing up and getting things ready to go ourselves. Kansas City, here we come.”
Annie walked over to her wardrobe and slowly undressed. She drew her night shift over her head and crawled into her comfortable little bed in her rustic little tent for the last time.