"Pa, I'd rather be the one lockin' people up, than bein' the one locked up. I wanna be a sheriff."
Zeke had almost fallen on his knees to thank God that Charlie had found his path, then he wanted to thank him a second time for his son's irrefutable logic. When Charlie had asked him how he could convince the sheriff to take him on, Zeke had told him to repeat what he'd just said.
Now, as if by fate, or perhaps God's hand, a stranger had ridden up to his front door and announced that he was a detective from San Francisco. Immediately Zeke had seen many roads unfold for his son's future. Charlie's brilliant brain would make him an outstanding detective, an excellent lawyer, and perhaps success even beyond that. Zeke knew a man who had risen from Sheriff to become a State Senator. There was no telling how far his sharp-witted son could go, and if Zeke played his cards right, Detective Connelly could lay a paving stone or two.
"So you see, Mr. Johnson," Frank concluded, after a long-winded description of Violet's many crimes, "apprehending this murderous young woman is of the utmost importance. Beneath her beauty and poise lies a black heart. At the station house she's known as Violet the Viper."
"Dreadful business, dreadful," Zeke said gravely, rising from his wingback leather chair. "Would you care for a whiskey? It's a little early in the day, but I think better sippin' on a drink."
"I sure would. It was a long ride."
"After we talk you'll join my wife and I and our sons for lunch."
"I don't want to be any trouble."
"Not at all," Zeke said affably as he splashed the liquor into cut glass tumblers. "Here you are, detective. Lemme see if I've got this straight. This young woman, Violet Parker, has been stealin' from the good folks in finer areas of the city, and murdered an older gentleman after milkin' him outta his money."
"That's the long and short of it."
Frank was pleased with himself. Though he'd exaggerated Violet's activities, blaming the death of the man she claimed she was going to marry, had added some drama to the story.
"And you need to move real quiet so she doesn't get wind of you. If she does, you say she'll vanish like a ghost. I do understand that part of it, but there is one thing I'm havin' trouble with."
"What's that, Mr. Johnson?"
"That you believe our sheriff may have been influenced by this woman. I know Cooper Dalton, and he's not a man to be influenced by anyone, let alone a woman."
"You don't know this particular female. She's not just wily, she has seductive green eyes, long reddish-brown hair, and a figure any man would be hard-pressed to walk away from. I have no doubt she's already made it a point to befriend your sheriff and fill his head with stories of the nasty San Francisco police, and how she's been falsely accused of crimes she didn't commit."
"But if she is here she's just arrived. She's had no time to do such a thing."
"Honestly, Mr. Johnson," Frank said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "sometimes I've wondered if she's a witch. She always seemed to know when we were about to pounce. I can easily imagine her seducing your well-meaning sheriff the moment she arrived just in case I was able to track her down."
"Well, I admit the sheriff does tend to give people a second chance if he feels they deserve it. Your caution may be warranted. I have a suggestion," Zeke said thoughtfully. "My youngest son is workin' at the sheriff's office. He's just started. Very bright boy, very bright. I'll go into town and visit him. He'll know if this woman has arrived and if the sheriff has met her. I'll talk with the townsfolk as well. People won't have any trouble sharin' their gossip with me. I'm well-respected in these parts."
"Mr. Johnson, I can't thank you enough."
"Weather's kinda bad though. Storm'll probably pass overnight. First thing tomorrow I'll go into town and see what's what. In the meantime you're welcome to stay. I've got plenty of room, and the missus will be happy to chat with someone from the city."
"Won't your son be home tonight?"
"When this boy gets excited about somethin', there's no pullin' him away from it. He mentioned he might not be back when he left early this mornin'. He'd rather sleep on an old sofa in the sheriff's office than come home to his comfortable bed. That's just the kinda dedication he has, and I couldn't be prouder."
"This is excellent news," Frank said gratefully. "I'm expecting my sergeant to arrive today. I don't want to show myself, but I must make sure he's arrived safely and find out where he's staying. I just need to know where the stagecoach depot is, and watch it without being observed."
"Don't bother yourself," Zeke exclaimed. "I'll send George. He's my oldest. He's good friends with the man who runs the place. Tim Hardy. Just describe your sergeant's appearance and George will hang around and get the information."
"This is too much to ask, Mr. Johnson."
"It's my duty, detective. If Violet Parker is in Brownsville, I've gotta do what I can to help you catch her. George will find out where your man is stayin', and when I go into town in the mornin' I'm sure I'll find out where she is too."
Zeke watched the detective's face light up like a Christmas tree. Sometimes life was so easy it was shameful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was mid-afternoon when the stagecoach rolled into Brownsville. Forced to move slowly through the bad weather, it was arriving later than usual, and as Cooper approached to meet the tired passengers and scrutinize any strangers, he noticed Charlie's brother George taking to Tim Hardy.
"Hey there, George," Cooper said walking up to shake his hand. "You here to check on your little brother?"
"I'll stop in and see him, but no, I came to see Tim."
"Tell your pa I did a scout around for those rustlers and there's nothin' to report."
"Sure will, Sheriff."
The carriage came to a stop, and as the passengers climbed out into a misty rain, Cooper saw only one stranger. A rotund middle-aged man with pink cheeks, red hair poking out from under a cap, and bright blue eyes. Cooper guessed him to be Irish,
"Can I help you? I'm the Sheriff," Cooper said, approaching him with a smile. "Was someone supposed to be meetin' you?"
"Hello, Sheriff. My name's Patrick Doyle, and no-one is supposed to be meeting me."
"Are you here on business, Mr. Doyle?"
"No, no, nothing like that. I just fancied a day or two away from the hustle and bustle of the city."
"San Francisco I assume."
"It's a busy place. I swear it never sleeps, but if I'd known it was going to take me so long to get here I might have chosen someplace else."
"There are towns along the way. Why didn't you stop in one of those?"
"Maybe I should have, but I'm here now," Patrick declared, "and I'm glad. It seems very quiet and calm."
"Yep, it is, and I like to keep it that way."
"I don't suppose there's a hotel."
"Not as such. There's lodgin' at the saloon, but it can get rowdy later at night."
"A boarding house perhaps?"
"I'd recommend the MacTavish's. All men, except for the wife of the proprietor of course, good food, not too expensive."
"Sounds perfect. Don't expect to see much of me, Sheriff. I may just sleep for two days."
"A long way to come to sleep."
"There's sleep, and there's sleep. No noise. That's why I came. Where is this boarding house?"
"Go back the direction the coach came in, and you'll see a turnoff surrounded by trees."
"I saw it. It's not far at all."
"Nope. Just go down a ways and you'll see a red and white house. If you want quiet, that's the place. The church is just up a little ways from there."
"Thank you, Sheriff. I'll head over there right now. A cup of tea and a bed is what I need."
Cooper was feeling no threat from him, but his reason for being there wasn't plausible. It was a long journey for just two days, and the towns along the way would have offered him the same relaxation. None of them had the hustle and bustle of the big city.
&nbs
p; "Have a nice rest, Mr. Doyle."
"I know I will," Patrick replied, then turned and started towards the edge of the town.
"I reckon you've got another reason for bein' here," he mumbled as he watched him walk away. "As long as it doesn't hurt my folks, and it has nothin' to do with Violet, you're welcome here, but mess with her or my town and it won't end well."
Turning in the opposite direction, Cooper hurried down Main Street to Mrs. Elwood's, arriving just after Doctor Blake had left, but Ruby had the news. It was short and it was good. Violet was doing much better, and she could leave her bed the following morning, but she needed to take the tonic until the bottle was empty, eat three meals a day and have early nights.
"Ruby this is excellent," Cooper said happily. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done. You took care of a stranger the way you would a dear friend."
"As I said, Sheriff, I took a liking to that girl the minute I laid eyes on her. She's got a good heart, I just know it, and what's a young woman like that doing by herself? It's not right."
"No, it's not, but she has us now, and I've made sure she knows she's among friends."
"You want some coffee?"
"No thanks. I just want to see the patient."
"You go on up. I'm busy as always, so you stay as long as you want."
She'd twinkled up at him as she'd spoken, and feeling slightly embarrassed, Cooper grinned his thanks and hurried up the stairs.
"It's me," he said as he knocked. "Can I come in?"
"Yes, please!"
As he walked inside, she looked so happy he strode quickly across to her and wrapped her up in a bear hug.
"I heard," he said as he squeezed her tightly. "You'll be up and about tomorrow."
"I feel as if I've been locked up in this room for a week."
"Never mind. Just be glad you fainted among people who care about you."
"I am," she said gratefully, pulling back and staring at him. "I don't know how I'll be able to repay the kindness I've been shown."
"Do as you're told and get even better!"
"I'm not sure about the first bit, but definitely the second."
"I'd be careful if I were you," he chuckled. "You're already set for two spankin's. You wanna third?"
"Cooper!"
"Just sayin'."
"Why don't you kiss me instead?"
With his cock already stirring in his trousers, he leaned in, pressed his lips against hers, and moved his hands to her breasts. She mewled softly, then let out a little yelp as he tweaked her nipples.
"There's a whole lot I wanna do to you, Violet Parker."
"Lock the door," she whispered, "then climb into bed with me."
"We're gonna wait until tomorrow. I'm gonna take you to my house and we'll have privacy and time."
"But I don't want to wait."
"But you're gonna," he murmured, moving his kiss to her neck. "Darlin', what we did yesterday was—"
"Heavenly, Cooper. Absolutely heavenly."
"It was," he said huskily, gripping her hair and pulling it back to gaze into her eyes, "but I've got a few surprises in store, and makin' you wait is just the beginnin'."
"You're making me feel all weak."
"Yeah, but this time it's a good weak," he said with a wicked smile. "There's another reason you're gonna have to wait. I can't stay long. I've gotta take Charlie around all the stores and make sure everyone knows he's workin' for me now."
"I'm sorry you have to go so soon."
"So am I," he said as he released her and sat in his chair, "but just keep thinkin' about tomorrow."
"I feel as if I'm living a dream. I can't remember when I was this happy. I don't think I ever have been. I had no idea when I stepped off that stage coach how quickly and how wonderfully my life would change."
"It was just another day for me," he murmured, "then suddenly it wasn't."
"One thing's for sure, I never expected to be greeted by a half-naked sheriff."
"I wasn't half-naked. I just don't wear a shirt on hot days!"
"You were naked from the waist up, that's half-naked," she giggled.
"I suppose," he said with grin, then suddenly remembering the red-haired man he added, "Violet, have you ever heard the name Patrick Doyle?"
"Patrick Doyle," she said thoughtfully. "Doyle rings a bell. There's a Mrs. Doyle who works with a charity in my neighborhood, but I've never met her. I made it a point not to meet people in case the police came around asking about me. Why?"
"A stranger arrived in the stage coach today. That's his name. He said he was here to sleep."
"Sleep?"
"That's what he said. He wanted to get away from the noise of the city and have some peace and quiet. He seemed harmless enough, but I thought perhaps he might work for that detective who's after you."
"Could you do me a favor?"
"Name it."
"If Detective Connelly does show up here, please be very careful. He's a mean, sneaky, dangerous man."
"Violet, why don't you tell me what else happened with him?" Cooper said softly. "I know there's more to the story."
"Yes, uh, all right. He tried to, uh, he attacked me, but I shoved my knee between his legs. He mauls all the women he brings in for questioning."
Cooper felt a searing heat wash through his body. Crimes against women and children he saw as second only to murder.
"He steals from them too, whatever they have on them. He keeps everything in a locked drawer in his desk. I know because that's where he put my money and the bracelet I was wearing. I saw all kinds of stuff in there. The thing is, no-one ever gets away, but I did. That's why he's been so determined to find me, I'm sure of it."
"Don't you worry," he said with a deep scowl. "I know exactly how to deal with him."
"I don't want anything to happen to you," Violet said fearfully. "You don't know what he's like."
"You're wrong, darlin', I know exactly what he's like, but he doesn't know a thing about me, and he's in for a big surprise."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To Cooper's surprise, when it came time to close for the evening, Charlie asked to stay the night in the office. Cooper agreed, but wanting to learn more about his potential new deputy he invited him back to his house for supper. The women of the town would often gift Cooper casseroles and pies, and earlier in the day Al's wife had brought him a beef stew. As he stirred it on his stove, he could sense Charlie was feeling a tad nervous.
"I'm glad you could join me," Cooper said, hoping to make him more comfortable. "It's nice to have the company."
"Thanks so much for bringin' here, Sheriff. I feel real honored."
"It's my pleasure, and I'd like you to tell me more about yourself."
"Sure, what would like to know?"
"Why do you want to stay in the office? You live in a nice home. Are there problems?"
"It's nothin' like that. I just wanna be outta the house. My brothers are happy to stay there until they get married, but that's not for me. Pa's ranch is great, but the work of ranchin', isn't for me. I can't stand it. It's not what I wanna do."
As he dished the stew into bowls, Cooper pondered what Charlie had just told him. His earlier comment about wanting to lock people up rather than be locked up had been clever, and while it was doubtless true, Cooper now understood the deeper motivation behind Charlie's wish to work for him. Charlie was his own man. He wanted to make his own way in the world.
"Does your pa understand?"
"Sure. He's known for a long time I wasn't gonna stick around, and he doesn't care what I do as long as I'm satisfied doin' it. He has my brothers and they love the job."
"Speakin' of your brothers, I saw George today," Cooper remarked, carrying the bowls to the table and sitting down. "He was at the stagecoach depot."
"Yeah, he stopped by to say hi, but it was strange."
"Strange that he stopped by to see you?"
"No, not that. It was strange for him to go to the depot. Tim d
oesn't like him there, especially when the coach arrives. There's too much goin' on and he says George gets in the way. They always meet at the livery stable then go to the saloon. This stew is real good, Sheriff. Who made it?"
"Mrs. Whitley. She's a real good cook. All the ladies in our town are good cooks. There are a lotta lucky men here, but gettin' back to your brother, if that's the case, why did George go there? He must have had a reason."
"He said he was helpin' pa."
"Pickin' up a package?"
"No, and now that I think about it…" Charlie said, a frown crossing his brow, "maybe I should have told you about this."
"Go on."
"George said a stranger showed up at the ranch and needed to know if a certain person was on the coach. Pa sent George down to find out. Pa's always doin' favors for people."
"Yep, he's good at that," Cooper remarked knowingly. "Did George say if this person was on the coach?"
"He sure did. He said the man was real easy to spot. He had red hair."
Cooper let out a heavy sigh. Just as he'd suspected, Patrick Doyle wasn't in Brownsville to sleep, and Cooper was also fairly certain the stranger at the Johnson Ranch was Detective Connelly, but why was he staying there? Did Zeke know the man? Zeke had influence outside of Brownsville, but did it extend all the way to the San Francisco Police Department.
"Do you think this is important, Sheriff?"
"Yeah, Charlie, It could be."
"Are you thinkin' the stranger at the ranch might be that detective."'
"I'm not thinkin' anything. Not enough information to do that."
"Do you want me to go back to the ranch and find out who it is?"
"Nope. I'll ride out there myself. I need to talk to your pa about those possible rustlers, and I should take another look around to see if there's any sign of them. I'm sure I'll meet this stranger when I'm there. Until then I'm not makin' any guesses. Remember that. Don't make any snap judgements. Always learn as much as you can before you come to any kinda conclusion."
"I can see that," Charlie said thoughtfully. "It makes a whole lotta sense."
SHERIFF: His Town. His Laws. His Justice. Page 9