The Heaviest Rock (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 3)

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The Heaviest Rock (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 3) Page 12

by Alan Black


  The marshal nodded, but it took a noticeable effort for the man not to roll his eyes in disbelief.

  Grace said, “What can I do for you, Marshal?”

  “My natural curiosity is aroused when I see a man in chains.”

  “He’s a prisoner. I’m holding him for aiding an escaped criminal.”

  “He doesn’t look well.”

  Grace said, “He’s hung over.”

  “Hung over? I’ve heard some folks over in Stone County are a little lax in following our new prohibition laws. We don’t tolerate such nonsense in Taney County, even less so here in Forsythe.”

  Grace nodded, “Yes, I agree, but since he drank all of the evidence I can’t arrest him for having it. Is that all? We wanted to go down to the dam and watch them drain the lake.”

  The marshal said, “That’ll do for now. You two don’t go too far. I know you can’t cross the river. They close the road across the dam when they open the gates. Releasing the water will flood the trail and river ford below the dam. So you two won’t go any farther than there if I need to talk to you again.”

  Grace nodded. She started to rein Jezebel but stopped when LillieBeth spoke to the marshal.

  “Sir, we are tracking killers that may have come this way. Abe Braunawall is traveling with Bobby John McDonald. Do you know these men?”

  The marshal nodded. “I know Braunawall, but not that other feller. I haven’t seen Abe come through town in a couple of months. Who’d they kill?”

  Grace said, “Abe is wanted for helping Thomas and Daniel Braunawall kill Clayton Grissom.”

  The marshal said, “Trance and Dangle, huh? I heard Dangle fell in the river and drowned last week.”

  LillieBeth said, “He did. Have you seen Trance come through here? He might have been travelling with his Uncle Zeke a week ago.”

  The marshal said, “You want them two for murder, too?”

  Grace said, “Trance pulled the trigger, Zeke and his son Abe helped him.”

  The man nodded. “You’re going to have your hands full if you’re going after any of the Braunawalls. I’ve run them out of Forsythe more than once. Since we’ve closed all of the saloons and taverns in town, they mostly just pass through town going somewhere else.”

  LillieBeth asked, “Is their place far from here?”

  “Near as I know, you cross the river and go about five miles by the south road. There used to be a tavern at a junction, probably closed now with prohibition, but I hear tell the Braunawalls all live about three or four miles east of there.”

  Grace said, “You hear? You don’t know for sure?”

  The marshal shrugged. “As long as they leave me and my town alone, I’ll leave them alone. Anything across the river ain’t my business.”

  Grace asked, “Did you see Trance or Zeke recently.”

  “It was about a week ago or so, they rode through town heading south toward the dam. I can’t say anymore than that. They may’ve been back and forth a dozen times. Me and my deputies can’t watch everybody.”

  LillieBeth said, “But you have time to watch us?”

  The marshal nodded. “I got time for you. I’ll check on your story. That whistle you heard was the first warning. There’ll be another in a few minutes and a third and final warning in fifteen minutes after that. I don’t know how much water they’re going to send over the dam, but no one’ll go across the river or the dam until they’re done.”

  It was a short ride to the dam where a crowd had already gathered. Grace and LillieBeth reached the dam just as the dam workers lowered a long series of floodgates, thick steel sheets raised and lowered along steel grooves inset into thick concrete pillars. The water did not flow over the dam; it rushed over in a thick sheet like a short and very wide waterfall.

  The crowd clustered on the high bank to watch. LillieBeth hobbled their horses in a field off to the side. Grace and LillieBeth shared a small fire with a couple of men; lunch was warmed beans from an airtight and biscuits from a tin. Taradittles moaned and lay on the ground sleeping while the two women watched the water flow by for a little more than an hour. Even when the water slowed to a trickle, it did not look like the lake had dropped more than a few inches.

  Lunch was cleared away and they were aboard their mounts when the steam whistle blew again, announcing the road over the dam was open again. No one attempted the trail or the river ford below the dam. Water wasn’t gushing from the dam anymore, but the White River came to life again at the foot of the huge concrete structure.

  Grace and LillieBeth sat at the edge of the road and watched people passing by, taking turns from both directions. The road over the dam was little more than a one-horse wide walkway, allowing travelers to pass across one way at a time. The top of the dam looked to be only inches above the top of the lake water. They watched faces carefully, forcing Taradittles to stay awake and watch for any Braunawalls he knew or for McDonald. They sat on their horses, as that gave them a high view to see each face.

  After a few hours, the light traffic dwindled to less of a trickle than the river water below the dam. They had not spotted anyone they knew crossing the dam, nor had the town marshal come by as he said he would.

  Grace said, “Enough, if that marshal wants to talk to us, he can do so on our way back through town.”

  She led LillieBeth and Taradittles across the dam. She and Clayton had walked across the dam and back last year, but it still did not feel comfortable. It felt as solid as the earth beneath their feet, but it was manmade and it made her nervous. She sighed with relief as they made it across without the dam collapsing underneath them.

  The sprinkles had turned to a gentle shower, with heavier drops threatening. She wondered how much more water Taneycomo Lake could take before they opened the floodgates again. She hoped they could catch the Braunawalls and get back again before they closed the road. She did not want to get caught on the south side of the river, especially if there were more Braunawalls who might object to her arresting Trance, Abe and Zeke.

  Taradittles shouted, “Hey Mrs. Grissom. Ain’t it time to let me go?”

  Grace looked over her shoulder and kept riding.

  Taradittles started to complain about the rain showers converting into a deluge, but he stopped his complaint in mid-sentence. He shouted, “Hey Mrs. Grissom. That tavern the sheriff told you about is gone. It won’t do you any good looking for it as a road marker.”

  Grace did not even bother to turn to look at the man.

  He shouted, “That tavern closed in January when prohibition started. Honest, I rode by back in, let’s see, just a few weeks ago. Someone must have set it afire, but it’s just an empty burned out shell. So, if you’re looking for the building to use as a landmark, you might as well turn back. And you might as well turn me loose.”

  Grace still did not look at him. The tavern was what the Forsythe marshal said, but what Taradittles was saying also sounded probable. Grace had no intention of turning him loose until she was done with him. She did not expect to be done until she had manacles on the Braunawalls. It did not matter to her if she held him for the rest of the day, the rest of the month or until the fourth of July. She would not be done until she was done. Besides, a burned out tavern was as good a landmark as a whole tavern.

  They made it to the tavern at the crossroads without any issues other than Taradittles continued complaints. The tavern was not closed or burned. It appeared to be doing plenty of business for a late Tuesday afternoon. There were horses and even a few wagons gathered around the place. It did not look like a place a lady would enter, much less a lady with a twelve-year-old girl in tow. Even from a distance the noise coming from inside was loud.

  There were a dozen shacks and lean-tos scattered around the junction of the two country roads. The crossroad had the look of plenty of places that tried and failed to make it as a town. Most of the buildings appeared to be empty and available for the taking. Grace picked one out and pointed at a three-walled shack with an ope
n wall facing the tavern. She said, “Let’s get out of this wet.”

  The shack was well back from the road and far enough away from casually curious eyes. She wanted to have a clear field of vision of the tavern and the crossroad junction. She also wanted to be far enough away from the tavern that the noise from inside the building was not so loud.

  There was enough room in the shack for them and their horses. Someone had been kind enough to leave a small stack of firewood, but it did not appear that anyone had used the building in a couple of months. A small fire was enough to warm the whole building.

  LillieBeth said, “I am squishing when I walk. I am wet to the bone and back again, even with this fish gear.”

  Grace nodded, “I’ve had baths where I didn’t get this wet.”

  Taradittles grumbled, “Me, too.”

  LillieBeth laughed without any real humor, “I have ridden downwind of you today. I doubt you have ever had a bath. I am tempted to set you out under the eaves and let you just wash clean.”

  Taradittles snorted and rattled his chains. “It seems I got no say so. Hey, Sheriff Grissom, you got anything else in that bottle? My head is splitting open.”

  Grace said, “You finished the only bottle I had and you did that halfway back to Oasis.”

  “How abouts you go across the road and get me another bottle?”

  “They sell liquor over there?” she asked.

  Taradittles said, “What do you think all them farmers and sheep herders are doing over there, holding a quilting bee?”

  Grace replied, “No. I’ve seen men and even a few women go into that place so far and they didn’t look like they were on their way to a church social. I’ll go across the street, but I’m not bringing you a bottle. LillieBeth, you keep an eye on him and our possibles. This is rough country if it’s where the Braunawalls come from.”

  Taradittles pointed up the cross road to the west. “They all lives back up that way about ten miles or so.”

  Looking at him, Grace studied him as if he was an unusual bug. “You sure you want to keep telling me lies? Maybe I should let LillieBeth get out her granite heart lie finder.” She grabbed his manacles and with a jerk, locking them around a pole.

  The man said, “You bring me a bottle or a jug and I’ll tell you everything I know about them Braunawalls.”

  Grace thought about that all the way across the road. A bottle would be a cheap price if she could get straight information about the Braunawalls. She only knew about three of them. Trance, Zeke and Abe were ones she had names for. She could not have picked Zeke out of a crowd of two without making a guess, never having seen the man before. How many more men were in the Braunawall family? She knew she should not discount trouble coming from any Braunawall women, as Ozark Mountain females were no shrinking violets. Were there too many Braunawalls for her and LillieBeth to confront? It would be a huge task for two women to arrest three men, but she knew she and LillieBeth were the two women who could. Taradittles still refused to give them his real name. For all she knew, he was a Braunawall himself. She would not give him the opportunity to warn anyone else.

  She pulled aside the poncho. She slipped the badge off her dress and dropped it into a pocket. She put her hand on the latch to the tavern door and wondered if the place was really a meeting place for the Braunawalls, the Bald Knobbers or maybe even the Klan.

  TUESDAY - AFTERNOON

  Grace stepped inside the tavern. It was loud with laughter, shouting, music and whooping. The noise dropped to a whisper as she opened the door. Everyone from the bartender to the banjo player stopped to look at her.

  She shook the rain off and pulled the poncho over her head. She straightened her dress and smiled. The noise level ratcheted back up to a deafening roar. The place was so loud a person had to shout to be heard.

  Grace stomped her feet, trying to shake mud from her high topped, button down shoes. She did not want to track mud across the tavern floor, but it was a useless effort. The floor by the door was already thick with mud. The tavern’s swamper would have to sweep the floor with a hoe and a shovel, if they ever bothered to clean the floors. It was also useless trying to get the mud off because the Missouri sludge caking her shoes was about half clay, half-thick mud and half glue. It would cling to anything it touched. It would not come free until it was scraped off, scoured away or just wore down.

  She walked up to the bar and elbowed her way in between two small farmer types. They were small from her frame of reference. Both men were complaining to each other, but neither was listening to the other. The man on the left was shouting about the rain keeping him out of his fields. The man on the right was complaining about how his wife and children kept him from having any fun.

  She shook her head. It was not the rain keeping the farmer from his work. He might not have been able to plow and plant, but there was not a farm in the country that did not have more work to be done inside as there was to do outside in the fields. The other man seemed to be alone without his wife and children and he was drunk, but he still did not seem to be having fun.

  They looked at her interruption with hostility, but their expressions changed once they realized they had been separated by a lone woman. They looked around her at each other and gave small facial signals as if they had an elusive deer trapped between them. Grace saw the signals. She also recognized the drunken look as one she had seen plenty of times. She knew neither man would present a problem. She would be able to twist them physically about like an Ozark creek bed, even if they had been sober.

  The bartender mouthed, “What’ll you have?”

  She could not hear him, but she had been in drinking establishments with Clayton often enough to recognize the phrase. She did not want anything to drink. She wanted to go back and sit by a warm fire. She wanted to take off her wet shoes and wipe her feet dry. She wanted to be home with her husband, to enjoy a quiet meal, to tell each other familiar stories, and to cuddle under a warm quilt. What she wanted would not matter until she finished the task at hand!

  She said, “Beer.” It would be very odd if she did not order something in this place. “And the cheapest bottle of whiskey you have.”

  The man leaned across the bar and shouted. “I’ve a bottle of local product, but I’d not recommend it for women.”

  She laughed and shouted back, “I’m going to use it to clean the mud off my boots. And bring a drink for both of these gentlemen.” She pointed at the farmers to either side of her.

  She waited to taste the beer until after she paid for her drinks. The beer was warm and flat. She slipped the bottle of moonshine into a pocket and held her beer up as a toast to the farmer on either side of her.

  Righty grinned and downed his free drink with swift swallows. He said something but she could not hear him. She recognized the leer on his face whatever his words.

  Lefty sipped his drink, winced at the taste, but sipped the remainder of it. She looked at him. He tried to speak but his voice dried up and he looked away.

  Grace leaned against Righty and shouted into his ear. “I’m looking for Abe Braunawall. Did you see him come by here?”

  “What’re you looking to Abe for?” the man slurred his words, but his hands managed to slide around her waist. “Are you his little piece of calico?”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m a blacksmith. I work up near Walnut Shade. I put shoes on his horse and he ran off without paying.” She shrugged. “I needed to come get my money.”

  The man said, “Long way to come in the rain for a few dollars.”

  “What else is a grass widow to do? I let him get away without paying me and pretty soon all my customers’ll run away without paying. So, have you seen Abe recently?”

  The man nodded. “Abe came through and picked up a couple of bottles just a couple of hours ago. He headed for home, said he wanted to get there afore it started raining real hard again.”

  Grace said, “That would be a real chore. It’s been raining for a week. Abe live close?�
��

  The man answered, “About three miles east. It isn’t far, but I wouldn’t go there if I was you. They don’t much cotton to strangers, especially not ones coming to collect greenbacks.”

  “Then how am I going to get my money?”

  The man squeezed her waist for emphasis. “I can pay you for him if you do a little something for me.”

  Grace smiled sweetly. She had been propositioned by more than one man, some sober and some not. She knew what the man wanted. Even sober, she would not give this man more than a slap in the face, but she did not want to start anything in this place. She already had one feud going with the Braunawalls; she did not want to start another one with this backcountry hick.

  Grace leaned down and said in his ear. “I’ll meet you around back. Give me five minutes and meet me outside.” She patted the man gently on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze for good measure.

  She nodded to the bartender, donned her poncho and left. She stared at the shed. She could not see LillieBeth, the horses or the fire. The small building still looked empty from where she stood.

  She was across the road and out of sight before the drunken farmer stumbled out the door and around the side of the tavern heading to the back. She did not want to confront the man, but she did not feel sorry for having led him on. This was the farmer who had been complaining about his wife and children. She felt sorry for his family.

  LillieBeth started to say something, but Grace stopped her. She continued to look into the rain. It took the farmer ten minutes before he was back, drenched and shivering. He looked around, but apparently, he could not see them in the shed. He staggered back into the tavern.

  She said, “Serves him right.” She looked at LillieBeth and back at Taradittles. “Did he behave himself?”

  In reply, LillieBeth gently tossed her granite heart from one hand to the other.

  Taradittles whined. “I was just trying to tell her she’d catch a cold staying out here in the shed. I was telling her she should go home and forget all this nonsense.”

 

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