by Alan Black
Using a soft and calm voice, Grace said, “Are you cousins with Thomas Ransom and Daniel Glen Braunawall?” It was a question, but one she knew the answer to.
“Trance and Dangle are my father’s brother’s sons,” he said. He was almost cross-eyed looking down at the gun barrel that seemed to be growing out of his nose.
Grace shook her head. “I didn’t ask for your family lineage. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
Grace said, “Yet you claim you found this gun?”
The man nodded, and then froze as the gun bobbed up and down with his head. “I found it behind the saloon-”
LillieBeth reached across with a hunk of granite and gently tapped Braunawall on the side of the head. She spoke softly, but there was no gentleness in her voice. “Liar. This is my granite heart. It seeks out lies and liars. Try again.” She continued to rest the rifle barrel in her lap.
Braunawall swallowed. “Dangle gave it to me. I don’t know where he got it.”
LillieBeth sighed. She tapped Braunawall a little harder on the side of the head. “Liar. Try again.” Her voice had a cold hard edge to match her rock.
Braunawall tried to glance at LillieBeth without moving his head. “Okay. Dangle gave it to me. He took it from Sheriff Grissom, but I wasn’t there.”
LillieBeth hit him even harder on the side of the head. “I have three witnesses telling me you were there. You did not know you left someone behind, did you?”
Braunawall’s eyes were wide with fear. “That Buckner boy is a liar.”
Grace held up a hand to stop LillieBeth from swinging her granite heart at Braunawall’s head with all the full force her twelve-year-old arms could muster. Grace said, “Buckner who? LillieBeth didn’t mention any names, so maybe I need to track down this Bucker fellow to see what he has to say. However, I’m not going to let this young lady hit you again.”
Braunawall said, “Thank you, she-”
“No,” Grace said, “I’m going to shoot you in the face the next time you lie. Do you understand that?”
Braunawall said, “Yes, lady.”
Grace said, “My name is not lady. You may call me Mrs. Grissom. And yes, it was my husband you helped murder, so I’m in no mood to go easy on you. The question is where did you get my husband’s gun?”
“I got it from Dangle. He gave it to me after he shot Sheriff Grissom. I was there, but I didn’t shoot anyone. I didn’t even help get Trance and Dangle out of their chains. Ike and Pa did that. Honest, I didn’t shoot anyone.”
Grace nodded. “I understand a little of the law. Breaking a person out of police custody is a felony. I also know a suspect is guilty of first-degree murder anytime someone dies during the commission of a felony. Sheriff Grissom taught me that.”
Braunawall said, “I don’t know what that there means.”
Grace smiled. “You can have your lawyer explain it to you at your trial. Maybe the jury will go easy on you or maybe they’ll hang you. But for now, let’s go over to the jail.”
“You can’t put me-”
LillieBeth slapped him hard against the ear with her granite heart. “You are done talking, Mr. Braunawall. Please go along or I will send you to the same place I sent Dangle and your brother Ike.”
The young girl swiveled her rifle to keep Braunawall covered while Grace went around the fence and into the street. The granite heart disappeared into a deep pocket. LillieBeth jumped down from the fence, regardless of how much ankle she showed and followed Grace.
A small crowd had gathered. Grace knew a much larger crowd would have grown if she had confronted the man on a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. Monday was a slow day in town. Farmers and ranchers were hard at work on their land. Only a few layabouts and town workers were available to gawk.
“Everybody best get on back to work,” she said. “The exciting part is over.” She pointed a finger at Braunawall’s two friends. “You two best run and tell this man’s pa that Abe is going to jail to stand trial for murder.”
She pushed Braunawall in the direction of Clayton’s old office. The door was unlocked as it always was. There was nothing to steal and any important documents were stuffed in a small safe in the corner. She knew the combination to the safe was written on the bottom of the center desk drawer. Without Clayton, there were no prisoners in the jail. Not that it was much of a jail; it wasn’t anything more than a small holding cell for overnight drunks or rowdy farmhands on Saturday night. It was big enough to hold four men, if two of them did not mind sleeping on the floor. The cell door was wide open and the keys were hanging on the wall.
She shoved Braunawall hard enough that he stumbled against the bunk beds. The door was slammed shut and locked before he could recover his feet. She tossed the keys on the desk, far out of her prisoner’s reach.
He was emboldened by the set of steel bars between him and Grace. “You can’t do this. You got not right to lock me up. You ain’t the sheriff.”
Grace shrugged. “You have your choice. Do you want to be in there or do you want me to shoot you?"
MONDAY – AFTERNOON
Grace slammed the door to the sheriff’s office behind her. She looked at the town she thought she knew. She had spent many days wandering the streets while Clayton attended to his sheriff’s duties. It wasn’t much of a town. The main part of town was two rows of buildings facing each other down a central street. The sheriff’s office was on the high side of the street along with the stables, the bank, the feed and grain store, a gun shop and a few other buildings. The White River flowed from west to east. Samson’s Boarding House for Young Ladies was the last building on the eastern edge of town along the river. The stables and corrals sat directly across Main Street from Samson’s on higher ground. The schoolhouse was the last building on the west end of town on the river’s edge. The Bank of Oasis sat directly across from the school, on higher ground where it wasn’t subject to flooding.
Many of the buildings on the high hillside had sidewalks and porches in the front, but there wasn’t any connecting walkway from building to building. People had to slog through the mud in the spring and fall, through the dust in the summer and through ice crusted, half-frozen sludge in the winter. The sheriff’s office didn’t have a porch or a sidewalk as the mayor had not seen fit to pay for such a luxury.
The opposite side of the street was the low riverbank side. All of the buildings had their backs to the White River, some with their own docks for their cross-river customers. Since the low side was subject to frequent bouts of high water, the buildings were set on tall foundations with a high wooden plank walkway running from building to building. The school was at one end of the buildings and Samson’s was at the other end. Those two buildings were separated as far apart as they could get with a restaurant, general store, ferry crossing, and a few other buildings between them.
A few homes were scattered around the hillside behind the town, with the whitewashed Baptist Church a counterpoint to the unpainted homes. Grace thought about the Hazkit’s painted house. It looked so pretty compared to these rough unpainted bland houses. The only other whitewashed building was the bank, having only the front side facing the street whited.
She pointed up the street toward the Oasis Bank and Trust, directing LillieBeth that way without speaking. She was angry and really would have shot the man if LillieBeth had not been there. She was just as sure LillieBeth would have split the man’s head open with her granite heart if Grace had not been there to stop her.
They made a good team. It was an odd feeling to have so much in common with someone so much younger than she was. She wondered if this was a small part of what it felt like to have a daughter; the usual flash of regret squeezed her heart, touched her soul and brought the edge of a tear to her eyes. She and Clayton truly wanted to have children, but it had not come to pass. They talked about adopting a needy child, but it had seemed like there was no hurry. Now it was too late.
LillieBeth stood by the sheriff’s door, not mov
ing. “Should I stay here and keep an eye on Abe?”
Grace shook her head. “He isn’t going anywhere until we get back. We can call the county sheriff from the bank’s telephone. Sherriff Jackson can come to get him or we can haul him to Galena.”
“Would you like me to wait outside the bank while you talk with them?”
Grace said, “No, I’ve met Mr. Cummings before. He’s the Mayor of Oasis, so he was Clayton’s boss as the sheriff, as well as the president of the bank. He’s a nice man. Besides, you already know as much about my personal business as I do.”
LillieBeth said, “I have never been in a bank. Am I dressed okay?”
Grace nodded. “I think since it’s my money in their bank, they’ll be okay with however we’re dressed.” LillieBeth constantly amazed her. The young woman had just attacked and hit a grown man. She had been ready to shoot him and she helped Grace arrest him. Now LillieBeth was nervous about a simple trip into a bank. Grace had to remind herself that this girl was only twelve years old with limited experience outside of her own small community up in the hills. It was true the girl had been to town, but many common adult experiences had thus far been denied her.
She went into the bank, followed closely by the young girl. There were no other customers. She introduced herself to the man in the cage and asked about seeing Mr. Cummings. He directed her to some chairs in the corner and asked her to wait. He went through a door with Mr. Cummings’ name painted on it and came back quickly. “Mr. Cummings is busy, but will be with your shortly if you would please wait.”
LillieBeth leaned over and whispered, “Mrs. Grissom, why does Mr. Cummings have his name on his door? There are only two doors, this front door and the one to his office. I would assume the man in the cage knows who is in that office.”
Grace said, “That’s a good question. I don’t know. Maybe you can ask him.”
LillieBeth shook her head. “I would not dare. I will ask Daddy when I get home.”
Grace wanted to laugh, but she did not want to offend her young friend. It was strange that LillieBeth was not shy about confronting an armed man in the street, repeatedly bashing his head with a rock, helping to throw him in jail but was still nervous about asking a stranger a simple question concerning painting a name on his office door. It was just one more reminder of LillieBeth’s youth and lack of worldliness.
It was refreshing to see even the simplest common things through LillieBeth’s eyes. The girl might be a relentless foe to the men who killed Clayton, but she easily expressed wonder at the newness of the world around her. It was an insight into why Susanne Harbowe loved teaching. To see the awakening of such amazement and curiosity in her students must be a daily thrill. Still, she would be liable to lose her temper if she had to put up with Billy Hollister’s shenanigans every day.
They waited. Grace wondered if the man had another customer in his office. He kept them waiting so long her bottom was beginning to get sore from sitting in the hard wood, stiff backed chair. LillieBeth looked as if she had more questions, but was too nervous to ask. Nervous or not, the young girl fidgeted much less than Grace did, but it was obvious that sitting still was a challenge for both of them.
They waited. She was about ready to tell the man in the cage they would come back later when Mr. Cumming’s door flew open. He waved them into his office. He was a short, fat man, but he had a very pleasant face, in spite of the fact he covered most of it with a well-trimmed white beard and wore thick glasses.
LillieBeth leaned over and whispered. “Look, there is another door, but it does not have any thing painted on it.” The door had a large metal bar across it, loosely set into brackets.
He held the office door open for them and offered them chairs. There were no other customers in the office. There was no paperwork or ledger book on the desk. There was a huge safe in the corner, but it was shut tight. She also noticed the only two pictures on the wall. One was George Washington and the other one was the current president, Woodrow Wilson. The office was sparse and spartan where Mr. Cummings was not.
Grace wondered why he had kept them waiting if there wasn’t anyone else in the office. She thought maybe it was part of his habit for making people think he was more important than he was. It was true he was the president of a bank, but it was only Oasis, Missouri. It was not like it was a big bank in St. Louis or somewhere. Also, it was true he was the Mayor, but it wasn’t like he was the mayor of somewhere important like Joplin or Nixa. He was what her father would have called the ‘biggest toad in the puddle’.
Still, she was thankful these chairs were padded. She was also sure his grin was practiced, but his whole face had a genuinely pleased look about it.
Grace started, “Mr. Cummings, I am Grace Grissom-”
“Of course, Mrs. Grissom,” he interrupted. “Clayton introduced you many a time, so many times that I began to think he doubted my memory. Even though I do say I have a very good memory for names and faces, I’m sure that I would remember you without a good memory.”
“Thank you, sir,” Grace said.
“First, let me express my condolences about Clayton. He was a good man and it’s more than a shame about what happened. Trust me; the first order of business for any new sheriff will be to investigate this whole mess. It is bad business for a murder to happen in our streets, to have witnesses recant their statements and then have the sheriff killed by the suspects. It is very sad and very, very wrong.”
“Thank you again, sir. I believe there are more people than you or I who’d like to know who said what. I’d very much like to know who said they saw the murder of Fletcher Hoffman and then claimed they didn’t. I can only believe such a change of their witness statements helped the criminals who murdered my husband.”
“Of course, Mrs. Grissom. Secondly, who is this charming young person with you? I must say, I’m not used to seeing young ladies who are so heavily armed that they appear ready to do battle at the Alamo.”
“Mr. Cummings, this is Elizabeth O’Brien Hazkit. She’s the daughter of Art Hazkit. LillieBeth, this is Mr. Cummings, the president of the First Bank of Oasis, and the mayor.”
Cummings momentarily looked startled at the name LillieBeth, but he quickly regained his composure. He smiled pleasantly with his practiced professional smile.
LillieBeth stood and gave a little curtsey as her Mama had taught her. She blushed and slid back into her seat.
Cummings said, “I’ve certainly been hearing your name quite a bit lately, young lady. I must confess I thought you were a bit older and certainly much… bigger? Yes, bigger. I thought you must be almost as tall as Paul Bunyan from some of the tall tales I’ve been hearing.”
Grace said, “Who?”
Cummings laughed. “Paul Bunyan is a character from a story. He’s a giant of a man, a logger who can topple tall trees with one swing of his huge ax. A friend of mine from Minnesota sent me a decade-old dime novel about him. And from what I hear about Miss Hazkit, I could only assume she was some relation to him.”
Grace nodded. “LillieBeth isn’t quite a giant, but she’s not quite your typical young girl either.”
LillieBeth said, “I do not know why I am not typical. I have not done anything anyone else would not have done.”
Cummings laughed, his ample belly rolling in genuine mirth. “Maybe the stories have been stretched a bit. I heard that you hunted down three of the men who helped those two Braunawall men escape. Certainly that story has been exaggerated.”
LillieBeth looked at Grace and shrugged, “No, sir. I did that.”
“Really? I heard you actually saw Trance and Dangle Braunawall attack a woman and you beat them both, took their guns, took their clothes and made them ride away naked. That certainly sounds like something I’d read about in a wild story. That tale must have been stretched quite a bit.”
“No, sir, I did that.” LillieBeth blushed causing her freckles to stand out in stark relief.
“Both of them?”
&n
bsp; “They were both doing the attacking, sir. I figured they both needed a good beating.” She unconsciously slid her fingers over the revolver in the shoulder holder she took from the Braunawalls.
Cummings looked surprised. “Well, I do have it on good authority from Mrs. Samson that you did track down Dangle and Ike Braunawall. You did not kill them, but from what I hear, you were… um… shall we say, instrumental in their demise.”
“I do not know what all of those words mean, but I did track down Dangle and Ike. I was there when they died. I would have thought Mrs. Samson would have been a bit more closed mouth about what went on in her place.”
Cummings laughed. “Usually she is very circumspect… closed mouthed, but she does do her banking here and she knows I love a good story.”
Grace said, “Clayton always spoke of her as being a good woman, as does LillieBeth, although I cannot image a good woman in that line of business.”
Cummings nodded, “Certainly, certainly, and it is certainly not a topic for ladies. Now, what can I do to help you ladies?”
Grace said, “I came to see about my bank account.”
Cummings was suddenly serious and grim. He said. “I am sorry, but you don’t have an account in this bank, Mrs. Grissom.”
Grace said, “Clayton said he kept our money here. I don’t understand.”
Cummings nodded again. “That’s true, Mrs. Grissom. Sheriff Grissom did have an account at this bank, but it was in his name only. I’m sorry, but our banking regulations don’t allow me to give you access to his account without your name on it.”
Grace said, “But, it’s my money, too.”
“That is certainly so. But, we cannot just let anyone say they should get his money without verifying details.”
Grace said, “I don’t understand.”
“We must know for sure you have a rightful claim to his property-”
“You already know Mrs. Grissom was his wife,” LillieBeth interrupted. “You already said you recognized her.”