Bad Day for a Killing (Book Three of the Western Serial Killer Series)

by Hestand, Rita

  "What is it?" Leroy looked anxious to see it suddenly.

  Sadie pulled it out of the pocket of her jacket and set it gently on the counter. "It's my Ma's broach. A cameo. It's got a place for a picture…inside."

  Leroy picked it up and tossed it in his hand, he obviously wanted to feel the weight of the gold. His lips firmed in a set frown. "Okay Sadie, just this once. I'll give you a five pound bag of coffee. But since this is all you got, I'd go sparingly with it…so you don't run out so soon."

  He turned to the ladder to bring the bag of coffee down from the shelf. Sadie waited not paying much attention. She looked around, wishing she had stocked more groceries for herself.

  When he handed it to her, she scrunched up her nose, "Don't I get no change?"

  "You do not. This ain't cash. It will take me time to get anything out of it. You should have brought cash…"

  "I don't have no cash, Leroy." She nearly screamed her frustration at him. "No one in this town has cash, and you know it."

  "Well that's too bad, Sadie…then measure it precise as it is all you'll get from me." He warned her.

  "Leroy you are an unkind man…" She began. "Just about the most unkind man I know."

  "I ain't in business to be kind Sadie. Not like you." Leroy didn't make any excuses.

  "I thought you would have pulled out of here. Ain't many left in this place now…" Sadie glanced out the window seeing the stark lack of life.

  "I probably will in a month or two. But I got a little business with my catalogs." He remarked, with a sarcastic twist to his mouth.

  "Well good. Town don't need your kind…"

  "It ain't a town no more, Sadie. Look around you. People are leavin' right and left. Some just can't rustle enough together to get out. And the ones stayin' are not savory characters. You'd be wise to get out agin yourself Sadie." He warned her.

  "This is home…" she declared. "Besides, the ones stayin' I've fed for a while too…"

  "This place has rotted, Sadie. It's no one's home anymore." He corrected. "And the one thing I would have thought you would have learned is that no one appreciates charity. They'll turn on you in a minute, for a piece of bread or scraps. You mark my word, you better get out of this place if you know what's good for ya."

  "You weren't born here Leroy, you don't have the roots it takes to stay…" she countered.

  "No…and I ain't that stupid." He turned away from her as though he were through jawing with her. "All I can do is warn you, Sadie. Get out while you can."

  Sadie stared out the window. Once, a long time ago, she could see where people were moving into town through this very window. Back when the town was alive, and the mine was workin'. She could see neighboring houses going up and even a little industry. But now, in the bleakness of this day, she saw nothing moving. Sadly, Leroy was right, and it built a lonely place in her heart to admit it.

  She would have gotten out, but she had no place to call home. No place but here.

  She got on her mule and rode home, feeling a lonely eeriness she'd never known before.

  Could Leroy be right? Could the people turn on her?

  Chapter Twenty

  Rusty sat in his office staring out the window. The rain was coming down hard now. It had rained for three straight days in Hard Tack and no one could even cross the street without getting muddy.

  The music the rain made hitting the tin roofs created a desolate sound in his heart. Deep down, hidden in his heart, Rusty kept the memory of his love for Vivian close. There wasn't a day went by he didn't think of her. He doubted she would believe that, after all this time. After losing their baby….

  By now she probably hated him. He couldn't blame her. He hadn't been there for her when she had the baby. He hadn't come later, to help her mourn it's death. Instead he'd done nothing. It rankled not being able to be with her, but it was for the best. She didn't need to live a life of worry.

  "So, what do you think happened to Stanley?" Marty asked as he threw the keys to the cells on Rusty's desk.

  He'd cleaned out the cells and mopped the floors and had the jail shining.

  Rusty came out of his sea of guilt and stared at his deputy as though he hadn't heard him. "What?"

  "I said, what do you think happened to Mr. Stanley?" Marty repeated.

  "I don't know. But he didn't sell the place it doesn't look like." Rusty admitted. "No one has come to take it over, at least. If he had an accident and died, then no relative has come forward and I did send out some wires. He's supposed to have a daughter back east. Never heard from her, either."

  "You think someone killed him, don't you?" Marty asked, as he sat down in the only other chair in the room.

  "It's a possibility, but I have no proof of that. I don't even have a body." Rusty exclaimed.

  "You know the way the town council was talking about it the other day, I got the notion they are glad he's gone." Marty remarked.

  "Oh, what did they say?" Rusty's brow raised in curiosity.

  "Just that he wouldn't be missed. One of the wives was standin' there talkin' about Stanley and her husband remarked that he wasn't sorry to see him go… The others seemed to agree. I thought that strange. They used to be friends with Stanley. Why would they turn on him like that?"

  Rusty sat up straight. "Really? That's interesting. Yes sir, that is interesting. Why indeed?"

  "I thought it kind of funny myself. I mean, when John was working there, everyone was going over to the café regular like. And business was boomin'. Now they act as though they are glad Stanley has disappeared. Don't make much sense to me. He was makin' money. So why would he up and leave? And why did John move out to the Carver place almost overnight? None of that makes much sense to me. If you ask me, he moved out awful fast."

  Rusty twisted in his chair, adjusting his hat on his head. "You think John did something to Stanley?"

  "I don't know, up until now, yeah. But now I ain't so sure…Not after I heard them talking about him. I mean, he was part of the town council. You never heard a bad word about him until he up and left. So why now? What had he done?"

  "Yeah, what…? Marty you are beginning to think like a real lawman. But John said he wanted to be closer to Penelope, and that Mr. Carver would soon be his father-in-law and he wanted to please him. So that makes sense. Stayin' in good with the father-in-law is a good idea, especially if he has money. The town council is another consideration altogether. I got the distinct impression when I first took the Sheriff's job that the town council was the only law in this town."

  "They used to run things, pretty much. That is until a Sheriff was elected. But the one they elected, they ended up not liking much. So I don't know. You gotta admit, it was pretty hasty John movin' out there And so was Stanley's leavin'. A man don't make money at somethin' and then quit the business. Does he?" Marty asked.

  "Marty, what are you trying to say…" Rusty glanced at him. "If you got some suspicions of your own, let's hear them. Who knows, maybe you are right."

  Marty fidgeted a minute then looked Rusty square in the eye. "Most of the council was Stanley's friends, so why would they suddenly act as though they could care less what happened to him? They used to jaw with him every day. Then nothin'. "

  Rusty twirled his fingers around the keys.

  "Yeah, why again. But…in all fairness, when there is a group of businessmen and one does something they don't like…what happens?"

  "That's what I'm talking about. Aren't we gonna do something about it?"

  Rusty shuffled his feet, and looked at his young deputy. "What can we do. If he met with foul play then where is his body? Could be he left in a hurry to see a sick relative or something. Could be, he had some kind of accident. There are a million things that could be." Rusty offered. "Truth is, we might never know."

  Marty shrugged. "Could be an accident wasn't an accident, too."

  Rusty stopped everything he was fiddling with and stared at Marty. "Now what on earth makes you say that? Do you ha
ve any facts to back up that theory of yours?"

  "Nah…I don't. Just a gut feeling is all. The man has been gone for weeks now. Not a word to anyone. No one seems to have any information. Wouldn't we have heard if there was some kind of accident? And if it was a relative, wouldn't he have telegrammed us to let us know he'd be away longer than he thought? So we could keep watch on his place. I mean nothing makes much sense. We don't know nothing, and we aren't doin' nothing."

  Rusty considered his opinion for the first time. Marty was right. Rusty was doing nothing and this wasn't like him.

  "Okay…look, if you believe so strongly that there is a problem, then snoop around. See what you can hear or see for yourself. Take a couple of trails and follow them, see if you spot anything unusual. Talk to some people." Rusty suggested.

  "You want me to do it?" Marty asked, his face registering surprise.

  "Why not?"

  "You never let me investigate…" Marty began.

  "Well, I am now…See what you can find out. I've already tried. I got nowhere, maybe I didn't look in the right places. I certainly didn't stand around overhearing conversation from the town council. Check it out. Go with it. Let me know what you find out." Rusty instructed. "Can't do any harm. Could be you might solve this problem, Marty. You are right about one thing. A man doesn't have a thriving business and just walk away from it. Unless he's got a very good reason. So investigate and if you come up with anything, let me know."

  "You mean it?" Marty questioned.

  "Sure I mean it. Maybe you can come up with some kind of lead. Who knows." Rusty encouraged him. "I'm not about to discourage you on this. If you think something is really wrong, then go with it. Take some time to find out all you can. Not much going on anyway right now. Go ahead."

  "You know…" Marty stood up now and stared at him with interest. "This is the first time you've asked me to do something on my own. I think you are finally beginning to trust me a little."

  Rusty considered his words. "I think you are right. And I think you might be on to something, and obviously no one paid a bit of attention to you snooping around. That's good. That's how we learn things around here. When others quit paying attention to us. So Marty, find out all you can, and let me know…okay."

  "You bet I will…" Marty's enthusiasm was bubbling over.

  Rusty smiled.

  "Thanks Sheriff," He smiled at him.

  "Good luck…and be careful. Sometimes we stumble onto things without knowing it, and it can get mighty dangerous." Rusty informed him. "You are the only deputy I got…"

  "I will. I promise."

  "Good." Rusty nodded as Marty walked out of the office.

  Rusty watched him for a while, and marveled at the fact that his deputy had started developing into a real deputy of late and he was almost proud of him. Maybe that's all the kid needed to become what he wanted, a little moral support.

  However, what Marty had revealed had Rusty worrying over him now. He could really get in the middle of some trouble if he wasn't careful. He'd have to keep a sharp eye out for him. Now that he was shaping up, he didn't want to lose him.

  ~*~

  Two days later though, Mr. Carver stuck his head in the office door.

  "Sheriff…" He called in his businesslike voice.

  Rusty had been out back, but came in when he heard someone at the door. "Yeah, I'm back here."

  "Oh…I was just checking to see if you'd had any word from Mr. Stanley." Mr. Carver asked, wiping the dust from his face with a handkerchief.

  Distrust reared its head and Rusty shot Mr. Carver a curious glance. He tried to keep his thoughts to himself though. "As a matter of fact, I haven't." Rusty admitted. "Why, have you heard something from him?"

  "N-no, not at all. I was just wondering if you were still investigating it." Mr. Carver asked.

  "The town council getting nervous, are they?"

  "No-o, not exactly. They did want me to check on it though."

  Rusty nodded, a chill ran up his spine. It was just a feeling, but a strong one and he didn't ignore it.

  "We've heard nothing from Stanley, and the investigation is still open." Rusty informed him.

  "Good, good. Glad to hear it."

  "Why the sudden interest, Mr. Carver? I got the idea you thought it perfectly normal for Stanley to run off at a moment's notice. Have you changed your mind about it?"

  "N-no, nothing like that, Sheriff. But he has been gone for some time and it is odd that he notified no one. At the very least he should have notified one of the town council. He has a business here in town. People were wondering if the café was gonna open up any time soon. I didn't know what to tell them." Mr. Carver sounded so businesslike that Rusty had a hard time accepting his sudden curiosity.

  "The café can't open, Mr. Carver. Stanley owned it. It was his property. If it's closed, then it stays closed."

  "Oh…of course. I just thought maybe you'd had some word about him."

  "Nope….nothing. As far as the business is concerned. It isn't our business. Unless there has been some foul-play I doubt I can do a thing about it being closed." Rusty explained. "For all I know he might have sold it to someone."

  "Then where is the new owner?" Mr. Carver asked in a snippy tone.

  "I don't know. I said for all I know…"

  "I see. Well, I guess that leaves it open for someone else to open up a place here in town." Mr. Carver nodded and checked his watch.

  Rusty glanced at the gold watch. "Oh, got someone in mind do ya?"

  "Actually, yes, but I haven't spoken to him about it yet, nor the town council. My son-in-law. He's a butcher and everyone really liked his work. He could open a place and give everyone in town a place to eat. I mean we really do need some kind of establishment, don't you think."

  Rusty frowned at the floor, then glanced up at him. "I guess we do at that. You'll have to talk to him about it. I guess you would finance him in this venture, then?"

  "Oh yes, I think it would be quite profitable. Don't you agree? I mean look how fast he got Stanley on his feet."

  Rusty colored his voice in neutrality. "Yeah, John did a good job. And he probably would do a good job again. Of course if Stanley comes back, he might not see it that way."

  "Then he could buy us out, don't you think?"

  "If he had the money, I suppose he could. But you got to know that things could get a little tense, don't you think."

  "Are you suggesting I wait a while longer to consider this venture?" Mr. Carver scrutinized him now.

  "I'm suggesting it would be a good idea. Besides, you seem to have a lot of ideas for your son-in-law Mr. Carver. Is he in favor of such things?"

  "I haven't had a chance to ask. I wanted to talk to you first, of course."

  "Of course," Rusty's voice hardened. "Well, you have my opinion, for what it is worth."

  "I'll wait a bit on that, then…" Mr. Carver nodded to him. "Good day, Sheriff."

  "Good day…"

  When he was gone, Rusty sat down in his chair and muddled over Mr. Carver's questions and suggestions. He seemed so confident that Stanley wouldn't be back. How could he know? Rusty suspicioned that he knew something that he wasn't telling. He worried about his deputy now. He worried so much that he rode out of town looking for him.

  Several people on his way directed him which road Marty had taken.

  He caught up to Marty late in the afternoon after he had inquired from several people along the way if they had seen him.

  "Glad I caught up to you, Marty. I wanted to talk to you." Rusty glanced about to see if anyone followed him.

  Marty seemed a bit distressed. "I got something I want to show you…" He said. "Follow me."

  Rusty followed him to a fork in the road about five miles out, near a big pecan tree.

  "What is it?" Rusty asked.

  "Over there, in the shade, don't that look like a grave?" Marty asked.

  Rusty rushed over to the tree and sure enough there was loose dirt piled abou
t, and all about the size of a man.

  "My God, Marty, did you just discover this?"

  "Yep, I was riding back to get you." Marty explained. "I stopped long enough to get a drink of water and cool my horse down under that tree."

  "You got a shovel on you?" Rusty asked.

  "Yeah, it's pretty rusty, I don't know if it will hold up." Marty dug it out of his gear.

  "Let's start digging Marty. I think you found what we have been looking for." Rusty explained.

  "What were you riding out to tell me?" Marty asked as they took turns digging.

  "Mr. Carver came in to see me today. He asked about Stanley." Rusty said grunting from the strain of digging.

  Marty grabbed the shovel and glanced up at him. "I'll dig a while. What did he say?"

  "He said he was thinking of getting his son-in-law to open a café in town, since Stanley was gone."

  "So…"

  "So, is he that sure Stanley won't be back?" Rusty asked him when Marty stopped digging to stare at him with his mouth hanging open.

  "Then I was right…the town council knows something."

  "They either know something, or they've done something."

  Marty's face contorted. "You think they killed Stanley?"

  "Since you found this…I'm pretty sure what we are gonna find, Marty. And yes, I think even Mr. Carver knows he has given himself away to some degree, just from the expression on his face.

  "Let's get to digging, then." Marty encouraged.

  "Right." Rusty smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Penelope, would you excuse us for a moment, I wanted to talk to John." Mr. Carver announced as they finished supper together one night.

  "Of course, daddy, I've got to clean the kitchen up, anyway." She smiled and picked up the dishes on the table. John watched her and winked when she bent to get his dish.

  "You wanted to talk to me?" John asked as Mr. Carver directed him to the parlor.