Things were rapidly going wrong now. He had to stop the chain of events.
He couldn't help but worry about Sadie too. She was his twin sister, and the tie was hard to break, even now. Sadie had been an innocent in the killings. John hoped no one blamed her. He hoped no one knew of what he had done so long ago. But time had a way of catching up. He knew that. Mr. Carver knew way too much about him now. It was dangerous for him.
He could either protect Mr. Carver, or kill him. But if he killed him, he'd have to make it look like some kind of accident. Killing him would prevent everyone here from knowing about his past. Perhaps if he had some sort of accident.
He'd think on it.
"Poor Sadie…" He murmured lowly.
She hadn't known what kind of meat she served. He had!
Another sin to atone for, he thought bewilderedly. He hadn't asked God for forgiveness for giving Sadie the remains of the arms and legs of the people he'd killed. At the time he thought it rather clever. Sadie would have extra meat, and it would give him time to plan the next hunt.
He hadn't really felt much of anything when he killed Perkins. Perkins had been such a stubborn old man. He'd practically begged for a few head of beef, and Perkins wouldn't budge. He offered him a small amount for a few head of cattle. Perkins had plenty, but he didn't have a kind heart in him. John remembered it all so clearly now. All of it, and it made his head hurt so bad, he couldn't see. He hadn't regretted anyone's death except Cal Harding. Cal, had merely heard some racket outside and gone to find out what it was. Looking back on it, John realized he probably thought there was a fox in the hen house. But Cal was a good shot, and John had only taken three cows from him at the time. He didn't want to harm Mr. Harding. He held no malice for the man. But Cal had kept shooting, and dern near shot John off his horse that night.
So John snuck up behind him with his deadly hook and clobbered him over the head with it. Like all the others, he'd taken him to the shack and hung him on a beef hook, then drained his blood by splitting his throat. He got the idea for extra meat as he was killing Perkins. After all, Perkins should have been a better person. He reckoned Perkins had set him off. Like his mother had. So he killed him. Brutally. He never had remorse for killing Perkins or his mother. But the others were different. If Bull and Orville hadn't witnessed his hanging Perkins on the cross, he might never have killed them. But they had to go and watch, and pull a gun on him.
The other ranchers he felt bad about, especially Cal Harding.
The dressing the bodies out like scarecrows was a diversion to make it look less like murder and more like a work of art. Besides, by hanging them on the scarecrow cross it would be days before they were ever discovered. By then, the birds would have gotten a lot of them. Ingenious as it was, it seemed like some crazy nightmare now. And then the sign in blood, 'Good day for a Hanging', it was just a last minute gesture. Looking back, it was hard not to think on himself as an entirely different man. A man that could never do such a thing.
But he had. Nothing would erase that.
Now his father-in-law had killed. Not only that, but had relations with Stanley. John could understand the killing of Stanley to some extent, but to have had relations with the man, he could not understand it. Still, John couldn't judge him, because he had relations with his own sister. Both had sinned, only John had prayed for forgiveness. He seriously doubted his father-in-law had. It lead him to wonder if Mr. Carver had killed before.
Rich men often did many bad things to acquire money and land. It was possible.
Still, John had to protect him…he had to protect everyone. The burden of it had John praying a lot more.
John spent more time in church now, praying that it would all work out. Praying that he could keep his good life together. Couldn't a man repent and do better in life? Did it always have to end badly?
"John, it's good to see you here every Sunday with Penelope and praying like you do." The pastor said one day as John was still kneeling in prayer after the service.
John got to his feet and looked feebly at the pastor. "I want the Lord to know I've sinned. And I said a special prayer for Mr. Stanley."
"Well, that is somethin'. I'll bet you are the only one that ever did that for Stanley." The pastor remarked.
"I hope not." John tipped his hat.
"I've got a good man, don't I reverend?" Penelope smiled as John took her arm.
"You certainly do…"
He realized, sitting in the church every Sunday that his father-in-law was no worse and animal than himself. How could he condemn him, without doing the same to himself?
Penelope like Sadie was an innocent. He had to protect her no matter what. She could never learn of his ill deeds, for she would surely never love him again. She could never live with the shame of her father going to jail for murder, either. Or her husband!
Somehow he had to win his father-in-law's trust once more. Since they were both involved in crimes he had to find a way to survive.
Still, it niggled what Mr. Carver had said. He'd had relations with Stanley. The town couldn't find that out. He'd be outcast. He'd be arrested for murder. Somehow it boiled down to the fact that John had to protect everyone he cared about if he wanted to survive here in Hard Tack. The only one that he couldn't be sure of saving was Sadie. She was alone, and that bothered him every day.
The woman he had vowed to never think on again, was now in his thoughts daily.
But there were other considerations. He was going to be a father for the first time in his life. He had to make things work, here. He had to!
Everyone found out about him becoming a father and they treated him to a party at the local saloon.
Since he didn't drink he knew he wouldn't enjoy it as much as the others, but he had to attend, it would be bad manners to not show up.
So John went, he let them all raze him about the baby and he good-naturedly took it.
Having a child with Penelope was like a dream come true. So much had been accomplished in so short a time, and now could be swept away by one person with a big mouth.
"John, you sure didn't waste much time," one of the boys at the bar said.
"I guess I didn't." He smiled.
"I guess you want a boy, most men do?" Another said.
"It would be nice, but I don't care. As long as they are both healthy, Penelope and the baby." John beamed.
"Too bad Stanley isn't around to see all of this. He'd be pea-green with envy, I’m sure." Marty remarked.
John frowned. He'd never taken to the young deputy and especially now. Why did anyone have to bring Stanley's name up, on a night like this? He wanted some peace of mind, and that was not about to happen.
"I wonder what happened to Stanley," John said soberly.
"Funny thing that. No one seems to care much." Marty shrugged. "Did you like him?"
John measured his answer. "As a business partner yes, but I really didn't get to know him personally. He talked business all the time. It was hard to get to know him as a man. I hope he is well though."
"Yeah, it's downright spooky that the café stays closed, isn't it?" Marty continued. "Like some monument to him or something."
John nodded. "Yes it is…Does the Sheriff intend to keep it closed for good?"
Marty shrugged. "Don't know what he plans to do. He's still investigating."
"Investigating Mr. Stanley?"
"That's right." Marty watched him closely.
"What you gonna name the kid…?" An acquaintance asked down the bar.
"I hadn't really thought about it yet." John admitted. "I'll probably let Penelope choose a name."
"Well most folks name them after their father or mother…" Someone suggested.
"No…not mine at least. Maybe Penelope has some ideas." John suggested.
"What is wrong with your own folks?" Another asked.
"My father left us early in my life. I didn't know him well. My mother was rather a mean sort. I never liked her much." He
confessed, hoping no one paid too much attention to his words. Words of confession, he thought to himself. "Besides, her name was Miranda and I wasn't fond of it."
"Well you turned out okay." Marty offered.
"Did I?"
"Everybody here likes you." Marty added.
John looked into Marty's eyes. "That first day…the first day I came to town, I didn't think you liked me, Marty. You looked as though you wanted to gun me down."
Marty glanced around him. "I was a pretty dumb deputy back then. I got a little too noisy too quickly. I'll admit it."
John twisted his head at his honesty. "And I was just a worn out old cowboy, looking for a place to call home."
John turned to look at the naked woman sprawled appealingly against the wall in a picture. He'd never paid that picture any mind, until tonight. The man on the piano kept a lively tune going and the bartender kept the drinks flowing.
However, when it was all over, he went home happy, that he hadn't lost his head in there. It was too easy to open his mouth. Too easy to confess.
Stanley's death hung over his head like a gong about to ring in his ears. He imagined the torture the man went through and cringed. Castrated. Mr. Carver had sex with the man, and then did that to him. It all seemed so ugly and somehow so wrong too.
Rusty Peters was not one to sit idle either. If he was investigating as Marty said, then he might find something. John only hoped that if he did find something it wouldn’t' incriminate him or his family. He wanted to be free of Stanley once and for all.
That night, the nightmares returned to haunt him. He couldn't sleep. Penelope tried to appease him, but John was nearly crying he was so emotional. His life was one big circle, because no matter what he did, it all went back to the murders he committed, to Sadie innocently cooking that meat, that he knew was human. And then to think he had sex with his sister, his twin sister. Could God forgive that much? Was he doomed to live in hell?
"Darling, what's wrong. You need to get some rest." Penelope encouraged as she wet a cloth and dabbed his head. "Did you have a drink tonight, is that what is bothering you?"
"No…I'm fine. Just a nightmare. I often have them. Have had for many years." John said dully. "And I get these headaches."
"You poor dear. I think you are working too hard." Penelope petted him.
"I'm fine…not to worry." John insisted.
"You must'n worry, we are happy here. There's no reason to be upset. It's just a bad dream. And we will have a baby soon. Isn't it wonderful, darling?"
"I can hardly wait…
"Me too…" She yawned. "I'm just so sleepy all the time. I want to make a lot of clothes for the baby, before it comes. But staying awake is such a problem."
"That will pass," John assured her.
"How do you know?" She looked at him strangely.
"Well…the upset stomach stopped after a few weeks. This will too." He assured her.
"Have you thought of any names…" She asked cuddling against him.
"Not really…How about you?"
"Ruth, Susan, Mary…" She mumbled against him.
"Too plain for our little one, besides what if it is a boy?"
"Oh well, John Jr. maybe?" She looked up at him.
"I wouldn't want him to be a junior." He shook his head.
"Name him after my father…" She insisted.
"No…Robert sounds I don't know…I don't like it."
"Oh, what do you like then?" She insisted raising up over him.
"I like the name Ben…" He murmured. "I always have…."
"Ben…that's a nice name…Okay, if it's a boy, we'll name him Ben. If it's a girl, I'll pick the name…how's that."
"Fair enough, my love, let's get some sleep." He encouraged.
She scrunched down in the bed, then suddenly raised up again. "What if it's twins?"
He chuckled. "Then you name one, and I'll name one…" He smiled and kissed her lightly on the nose.
"Agreed!" She giggled and sank back into the covers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Okay Tom, I'm letting you lose now. But if I ever catch you inciting a riot again, you'll stay in jail, is that understood?" Rusty threatened.
"Sure…okay." Tom muttered, taking his gun as Rusty fished out of the drawer.
"Why don't you get out of town Tom. I'm sick of you." Rusty watched him strap his gun on.
"Sure Sheriff. This is a dull little town, anyway."
So Tom Mueller rode into Cross Timbers that same afternoon, slowly. He'd just been released from jail today, but he was determined to follow through with this Sadie character. People like her didn't deserve to live, he thought idly.
Someone had to listen.
Oddly enough, no one had followed him here. Although he thought maybe Smitty or Jim might. He glanced around and shook his head. He saw the general store open, so he reined his horse in and tethered him. His boots made a strange echoing sound against the small boardwalk.
The wind had picked up and blew the door open as he stopped beside it. He grabbed it and went inside.
Leroy was looking through his catalogs, but glanced up at the stranger. The man was big and tall, and had a scar above his lip. He had a dangerous look about him. But Leroy wanted to ignore him and get back to his catalogs. Nothing ever happened in Cross Timbers, he reflected. "Can I hep ya?" He mumbled thumbing through the pages of the catalog as though he hadn't looked at it a million times before.
The wind whistled through the door's edge.
"Where is everybody?" Tom asked as though he expected a crowd to be hanging around.
"Not many left these days. Who you lookin' fer?"
"Is Sadie Martin still in town?" He asked his brow shooting upward.
Leroy eyed him up and down. The way he wore his gun low on his hip told Leroy he probably knew how to use it. The way he cocked his hat told him he was sure of himself. His voice held command to it. Leroy didn't like the man, but he could be a paying customer, so he paid attention. "Yeah, she's still here…why?"
"And you ain't tarred and feathered her yet?" Tom chuckled.
Leroy's brow furrowed.
"What fer, Sadie is like a saint to this town. If you gonna talk bad about her, you might have a few mad at you around here." Leroy defended one of the few still left in Cross Timbers. "I wouldn't say nothin' bad aloud around here. Not about her at least."
"I tell you what…you get your people together, and I'll tell you why I talk like that about Sadie." Tom smiled crookedly.
"What people?"
"The people of this town. How many you got left?" Tom asked glancing out the window. He saw no chimney smoke, no industry, no life. This town had died years ago, he figured.
"I reckon there is a dozen or so left…why?"
"'Cause I got somethin' to say about your Sadie, and you folks ought to listen…" He grinned.
Leroy looked over the top of his glasses at the man. He had no time for non-sense, but the tension in the man made him watch him carefully. He wanted no trouble.
"Where you from, mister?"
"Melville, of late. Just got out of jail this morning." Tom said proudly.
"You been in jail?" Leroy asked. "What did you do?"
"That's right. I dug up a grave…" Tom laughed and looked wild-eyed at the man.
"Then why should we believe a stranger?" Leroy asked. "Especially one that just got out of jail?"
"Because what I got to say, you are gonna want to know." Tom assured him.
"Mister, there ain't enough people here to care what you got to say. You are a stranger. Sadie was born here." Leroy countered. "We stop payin' attention to idle gossip a long time ago. No one cares anymore. Everyone here is trying to survive, and that's all."
"Don't matter. When I tell you what she's done, you'll be glad you did as I say. You'll be glad you listened."
Leroy put the catalog away and watched the man. He was unshaven, he wore his gun as though he was used to using it. His teeth were yello
w, and his hair wiry. Leroy couldn't image what the man had to say. But out of curiosity himself, he decided he'd tell a few around town.
"I'll meet you here, about dark…" Tom said. "I got somethin' that will curl your hair…" He promised.
Leroy meandered over to the livery. One of the smartest people in town was Pop Ferguson, and even Leroy had to admit that. He respected the old man.
"Who is he?" Pop Ferguson asked as he hammered out a horse shoe.
Leroy knew there was no one to hammer for, but Pop kept himself busy these days with imaginary visitors. "Never seen him before. Says he just got out of jail over at Melville and he had something he wanted to tell us about Sadie." Leroy repeated.
Pop shook his head. "Usually it's women that like to gossip. First time I ever seen a man like that. What makes you think he'd be tellin' the truth. He ain't from here. And he admits he's been in jail. Ain't that enough to make you leery of him? You gonna believe every fool that comes through here?"
"That's true Pop. You are right, but…well…he looks kinda rough. Kinda dangerous. Like he could blow this town to hell and back. But he wanted me to tell everyone I knew to meet up with him at the store about dark. So you comin'?"
"Maybe, if I'm up to it. I got lots of work to do here."
"Now what kind of work you got. There ain't but a dozen or so people here in this town." Leroy complained. "Ain't you even curious as to what he's up to?"
"Aw…don't get your dander up Leroy, I'll be there." Pop gave him a strange glance. "Like you say, out of curiosity mostly. Who is he? What's he up to? That sort of thing."
Leroy stopped off to talk to Frank Myers, and a few others. Some of the people were all packed up and ready to move out. Leroy hated to see the town die, but he reckoned it was time.
Along about dark, a handful of people showed up at the store.
Tom walked back inside, his hands on his hips, his lips folding and unfolding. He looked menacingly at them.
"This all there is?" Tom asked, he'd been waiting on Leroy to get back.
"I guess it's all that is comin'. Now what is so all fired important for us to know…?" Leroy barked.
"Thanks for showin' up, folks." Tom eyed the people with interest. He'd never seen a lot of people so raggedy. He stared into their faces, seeing for himself as easily they would sway to his way of thinking. "When I get through, you'll be glad you came. This Sadie Martin, she's been feedin' the folks here in these parts for some time, right?" Tom asked as he scratched his chin and gave the people an eagle eye.
Bad Day for a Killing (Book Three of the Western Serial Killer Series) Page 21