by Marja McGraw
On the day litle Jenny Newton was kilt, my Annie said the town weeped. Now I understand that more than I did. Today I am the one weepin. My Annie has been taken from me, an the thing is, I know who done it. Ifn I would have jist figgered it out a day ago, we would be huggin together because that blasted killer would be dead, an by my own hand. I swear!
The town picnic was yesterday. Everone was havin thereselves a good time. Then the childrun begun hidin and seekin. Olga Wright, the preacher’s litle one, decided to hide out down by the crick. Next thing we knowed, she was runnin and screamin about a monster bein at the crick. She said he was big an ugly with bloody teeth an that he had kilt my Annie. That child was so scared that she could hardly spit out her words.
I did not wait for one more word, but ran as fast as I could to the crick, where I found my Annie. She had been cut like the others, and she was gone from me. The good Lord musta had His hand on me because I could not have bore the pain if it were not so. Doc came a runnin purty fast like. He said he heard me bellow from afar. He wanted to help me carry Annie back to town, but I tole him no one but me was layin a hand on my Annie.
I carried her to Doc’s office with the town people followin behind. Women was cryin an carryin on. I payed them no mind but cradled my Annie an cried for her. Her ma and pa come runnin from the store an I would not let them touch her either. Judith followed me like a lost puppy an cried her heart out.
I could hear litle Olga in the street, still screamin about the monster an his bloody teeth. I had to hold on to my self, or I would have gone out and jist shaken the stuffin out of that litle gurl. There were not no monster, not like she was talkin about. She was jist a scared litle gurl. I did not know what she saw, but it werent no monster.
Doc tole me Annie was carryin a chile. Now I know why she had been out of sorts. My chile is gone, too. I looked into Doc’s face an I knew who had done this thing. It come to me right through my grief. Doc knew what he was talkin about when he tole me the killer was full up with angre an rage, an now that rage is in me. Some people are purty good about hidin there reel feelins. I aint one of them, but the killer is.
I walked out of the office and home. I knew what had to be done.
People were yellin outside. I walked back through town an saw people leavin in there wagons. Someone grabbed my arm and I pulled it away. I was about to kill a murderer. Then I took a good look around. It was like they had all lost there minds. They was all leavin, not even takin there things with them. I could see fear an panic on the faces of these people I had lived around for many years. I shook my head and stuck with my mishon mission. Let those people go, I tole myself. They aint never lifted a finger to help with figgerin the killins. I would take care of it myself.
One of the wagons almost run me down, there was that much fear in the women. I belived it was the women folk who had everone movin out so fast. Then I saw the look on William Melton’s face. He saw the anger an grief in me. Him an Annie’s ma jist moved away from me.
It seemed like as it all happened so fast after that.
I stopped reading for a moment. I had to try to absorb what I’d read before I went any further. Tears were running down my face. I couldn’t help it; I felt like I knew these people. I’d taken a journey with them over the past week because of Joseph Croft’s records.
As far as I could tell, the people who’d left their belongings behind had suffered from mass hysteria. I knew that some of the people had waited and taken their things with them, but many had not. Even though it was the preacher’s daughter who’d started the hysteria by talking about a bloody monster, it appeared his family hadn’t left with the rest of the town. They’d cleared most of their belongings out of their house.
Mass hysteria? This town made me realize how conditioned we’d become to violence. Between news stories, movies, the television, and even music, violence had become a part of our lives. We saw and heard about it on a daily basis. The people of Wolf Creek didn’t. They hadn’t been conditioned to hear a story about a bloody monster and laugh at the child who was so frantic.
Pete walked in the front door and stood very still, watching me. “You found out about Annie?”
“You knew?”
“Yes.” He pulled the death certificates out of his pocket and set one in front of me. Annie Croft’s name was listed as the deceased. “I saw her tombstone, too. That’s why I put you off about visiting the cemetery.”
“She was pregnant, Pete. I was right about that. The killer took both her life and that of her unborn child.”
Pete pulled me to my feet and put his arms around me, trying to comfort me.
“I know I’m being silly,” I said. “I didn’t even know these people. And it’s been over a hundred years since all of this happened. But I can’t help it. I feel like a close friend was murdered.”
“It’s okay, Sandi. For the past week you’ve thought about almost nothing but this mystery of yours. You didn’t expect it to hit so close to home.” He waved his hand as though taking in the house and the people who had once lived in it.
I cried for a moment longer and soon began to pull myself together, sitting back down at the table.
“Who did it?” He tapped his finger on the ledger.
“I don’t know. I haven’t finished reading.”
He looked surprised, but pulled a chair over and sat down next to me. “Okay, let’s find out together.”
Turning the page of the book, I saw there wasn’t much left to read. The sheriff had skipped some lines before finishing his records.
It is done. I searched for the killer and found him drownin his sorrows. He had no right to even be standin there, but I had my way an he werent standin for long. I kilt him the same way he kilt the ladys. It were fittin.
There was no more in the records.
“That’s it? Who killed those women?” Pete sounded upset because we hadn’t found an answer.
“I have an idea. Let’s walk over to the cemetery and see if there’s another tombstone, one that we wouldn’t expect to see there. Or did you look at all of them?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t. I saw Annie Croft’s grave and quit looking. I knew you’d be upset about it, and I didn’t want to know anything else.”
Standing up, I headed for the door. Pete followed me, and Bubba was right behind us. The dog seemed to know I was upset, and he was docile instead of bounding out to look for rabbits.
We walked to the cemetery. It was located beyond the preacher’s and teacher’s homes, near the creek. I didn’t rush. It would break my heart to see Annie’s grave.
“I guess this is out of the blue, but I wonder why the sheriff always wrote about the crick. He knew it was Wolf Creek, so why didn’t he spell it correctly?” I wasn’t sure why that thought had popped into my head, but we were headed in the direction of the creek, where most of the women had been killed, so maybe that’s why.
“He probably wrote the way he talked. Maybe he simply didn’t make the connection between the name of the town and the actual creek. He did say Annie helped him with his spelling a little, but she must not have cared about that word.”
“It’s odd, but he had some words written as though he knew how to spell. Others were surely the way he spoke.” Our conversation occupied me until we reached the cemetery.
Pete showed me where Annie’s grave was located. Most of the wording on the stone had worn away to some extent, but I could still read it.
Annie Jane Croft and Baby
Wife, Daughter, and Mother
She Left Us Too Soon But Will
Always Be Loved and Remembered
June, 1862 to June, 1881
“I like that he added ‘and Mother’.” Glancing around, I saw some wildflowers growing nearby. I left Pete standing by the grave and picked a bunch. Returning, I laid them on top of her grave. Like the sheriff had said, it were fittin.
We walked around the cemetery, examining each tombstone. There weren’t any that seemed out
of place or suspicious.
“Now what?” Pete asked.
I thought for a moment, and then it clicked. “The sheriff said he found the killer drowning his sorrows. The most likely place to do that would be the saloon, the one place in town we never got to. I don’t know if anything will tell us who the killer was, but if there is something, that’s where it would be. I can feel it in my bones.”
Pete smiled at me. “That’s why you make such a good P.I. I would have had to reread that entry to pick up on it.”
We headed for the saloon, and this time I was hurrying.
Chapter Thirty-one
We reached the saloon in minutes. I was practically running. We hadn’t actually tried too hard to get inside before, but this time was different. Unfortunately, it was boarded up tight. For the first time, I looked closely at the boards and noticed they’d been nailed on with many, many nails. Someone, probably Joseph, wanted this place to stay closed – no one in, no one out.
“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” Pete ran off toward the house.
Figuring he was running to get the hammer so he could use the end to pull the nails out, I waited impatiently. Every so often, I tried pulling on a board. They wouldn’t budge. Glancing at the nails, I had a feeling a modern hammer wouldn’t handle pulling them out. Time had imbedded the nails deep into the boards. I paced back and forth, and when I stopped walking, I tapped my foot. What was taking him so long?
I watched the house, waiting to see him headed back.
Bubba whined, apparently sensing my mood.
“It’s okay, boy. It really is. I think we’re about to find some answers. At least, I hope so.”
My comments didn’t sooth Bubba. He sat down on the wooden porch and looked into my face intently, almost like he was willing me to read his mind. I hadn’t a clue what doggie thoughts he might be having.
While watching for Pete, I heard the sound of a horse’s hooves pounding the ground. I turned to find Jake riding toward me. He stopped the horse and climbed down.
“This is the one place I thought I might break into someday,” he said. “What’re you guys doing here?”
“I finished reading the sheriff’s records. I think we just might find something inside that will tell us who the killer was.”
I told him about what we’d found out, and he listened without interruption, even when a new tear slid down my cheek. He almost looked like he wanted to comfort me, but he seemed to think that might be a bad idea. And he would have been right, if that’s what he was actually thinking.
We both heard Pete’s footsteps at the same time and turned to watch him approach. He had something in his hand, but it didn’t look like a hammer. I couldn’t see exactly what it was.
“He’s brought a crowbar,” Jake said. “Too bad he didn’t bring two. I could have helped.”
Pete nodded at Jake, but didn’t acknowledge his presence in any other way. He set to work prying the boards off the door, grunting softly as they came loose.
The boards were down and the door to the saloon was closed. Pete and Jake worked together to force it open. As it was flung aside, the fresh air caused dust motes to float in front of my eyes. It was dark inside.
“Pete, is there any way we can get more light in here?”
He nodded and began prying boards off of a window. Jake pulled while Pete pried. They were a good team, whether they liked it or not.
I walked into the saloon, standing just inside the doorway.
I heard Pete say, “No, let her do this alone.” I assumed that Jake had started to follow me inside.
Everything appeared to have been left the way it was on the day of Annie’s murder. There were glasses and bottles on the bar. At first glance, it appeared there had been a fight. Chairs were overturned along with one of the tables. Knowing Joseph’s state of mind, I was fairly sure that, yes, there had been a fight. Looking to my right, I saw a table with cards spread out on it. Someone had been playing poker. On the left I saw a table with a plate and silverware still sitting on it. I closed my eyes, trying to picture what might have transpired that day.
Joseph Croft stood inside the doorway, looking around for someone. He wasn’t here as the sheriff, but as a husband whose wife and child had been lost to him forever.
Three men were playing cards, unaware of what was going on outside. Seeing the sheriff’s face, they dropped their cards and moved away from the table. One of them knocked over his chair.
Joseph saw the man he was looking for. “Everbody out!” he probably yelled. “I got a score to settle. Justice is about to be done.”
The bartender and a woman scrambled from behind the bar and ran out the door, followed closely by the card players. A man who’d been eating lunch at one of the tables followed suit and left his food on the table.
I opened my eyes. Who had the sheriff seen? There must be some kind of clue. And then I saw it – the remains of a body. I walked over slowly. We might have had a difficult time entering the saloon, but the critters hadn’t. There were bones scattered around the floor in front of the bar. And there was something else. I moved in for a closer look.
I’d found the answer. I knew who the killer was, and I also knew what the sheriff meant in his notes. He’d killed the man with a knife. It still protruded from a rib bone where it had stuck.
I closed my eyes again.
“You got a lot of anger in you, but now I got more.”
The man had a look of resignation on his face. He knew his time had come. He didn’t even try to fight it. Maybe he was so disgusted with himself that he knew this was his only way out.
The sheriff never even blinked when he stabbed the man. He stabbed him a second time and the knife stuck.
The sheriff walked out of the saloon and never looked back.
People backed away from him, talking softly to each other.
“Who would have thought it was him?” someone might have said.
“He sure fooled me,” another said.
“He didn’t fool the sheriff, that’s for sure. Let’s get outta here.”
I opened my eyes. It was mostly supposition, but I had a feeling that was about the way it went down on that day so long ago.
I walked out of the saloon.
“Well?” Pete asked.
I glanced at him and then at Jake. “The doctor did it.”
“How do you know?” Pete asked.
“The remains of a body are in the saloon. And there’s an old-fashioned doctor’s bag sitting on the bar next to a glass. Remember, too, he’s the one who seemed to have all the answers. He knew the killer was full of rage. I have a feeling he killed that cowboy who was passing through town, too, in the hope that people would think he was the killer and they’d carry on with their lives.
“I think he tried to ignore his anger, but it didn’t work. He would have been safe if he hadn’t started up again. No one would have ever guessed it was him.”
“This is all guesswork, right?” Jake asked.
“Mostly, but I have a feeling it hits pretty close to the mark,” I replied. “I remember reading that Marie Mueller sprained her ankle. I’m sure the doctor paid her a call to make sure it wasn’t broken. I’d also be willing to bet it was right around that day that a fancy knife or two disappeared from the Mueller kitchen.”
“I wonder why the doctor was so angry,” Jake said. “Was he crazy or something?”
“I don’t know. We might never know, but Pete and I have all of his records. I’m going to go over them with a fine tooth comb when I get home and see if I can come up with anything.”
“Did you have any idea it was the doctor?” Jake seemed genuinely curious about what might have happened in Wolf Creek and if I’d figured it out.
“I had some idea, but it was only because of the process of elimination. It seemed like every time I found new information, one more person was erased from the list of suspects. Plus, it seemed like the doc had a handle on the killer’s state of mind. In
those days, I doubt if he would have had such insight into people without experiencing it. It’s not like trying to solve a current crime. I wish I could have talked to some of these people.”
“In a way, you did,” Pete said. “Between the sheriff’s records and the things you found in people’s homes, not to mention Ambrose’s story, you found the answers to a lot of your questions.”
“Yeah. The sheriff’s records. I think he might have been quite a man. He surely adored his wife. It must have crushed him to find out he also lost a child. I’m going to do some research when we get home and see if I can find out what happened to him and some of the other people from this town.”
Pete and Jake looked at me and then at each other, but neither of them commented.
“I’m going back to the house,” I said.
Pete nodded, but didn’t make a move to follow me. “I’m going inside and take a look around.”
“Okay.” I suddenly felt very tired, and ready to leave. Maybe the ghosts of Wolf Creek didn’t walk the streets, but I could sure feel their sadness. It was stifling. I was ready to go home and see my friends and family. I wanted to enjoy them and hug each of them. What had started out as an adventure had turned into something heartbreaking.
Bubba walked beside me, still seeming to sense my mood. He was quiet. All of a sudden he took off running, once again after those elusive rabbits. He made me smile when he almost caught one and stopped so it could get away. It was truly just a game with him. He turned to look back at me and smiled his toothy grin. Yes, my dog knew that life goes on, and you can’t dwell on the things you can’t change.
Back at the house I opened the bag Jake had given us and began setting things on the cabinet shelf. He’d been generous. I’d return what we didn’t use to him.
Pete took his time coming back to the house.
I sat down with the sheriff’s books and idly flipped through the pages, thinking about what this town had gone through. The idea that a little girl’s hysteria could scare almost a whole town into running away and not even taking their things with them was mind-boggling.