Chapter Twenty-seven
Meagan was standing in the front of her store, looking out onto the street, when she saw Ethan Terrell driving by. Seeing him come to town wasn’t in itself unusual, but what he was carrying in the back of the buckboard was. Two pairs of legs were protruding from a canvas that covered a couple of bodies, and one pair of legs belonged to a woman.
By now several of the townspeople had also noticed the macabre cargo, and they followed the buckboard down to Welsh’s undertaking parlor.
“Mary Ellen, watch the store for a few minutes, would you?” Meagan called.
“Yes, ma’am,” the young lady replied.
Meagan knew that her curiosity was rather morbid, but the bodies were obviously that of a man and a woman, and that was too extraordinary to let pass. She had to know who it was, and what happened to them.
When the canvas was removed to reveal the bodies of Asa and Jenny Hanlon, Meagan felt tears burning her eyes. She wished she had not let her curiosity get the better of her. Jenny Hanlon had been in her dress shop just the day before.
“I’m so tired of being pregnant and having to wear large dresses. I want a beautiful dress that I can wear for the christening of the baby,” she had said.
“How long before the baby will be born?” Meagan had asked.
“I think just within another couple of weeks. You should see Asa. He is so excited about it! And of course, I am, too.”
“Well, that will be plenty of time to make a dress for you. And you’ll look beautiful in it, too.”
“Oh, I so want to. Asa has been so sweet to me for this entire pregnancy, and I want to look good for him again.”
But there would be no christening, and there would be no baby. Asa and Jenny Hanlon had both been shot.
Unable to hold back the tears, Meagan turned away and hurried back to her shop.
“Mary Ellen,” she said when she got back. “I’m going to be gone for a while. You can stay, or close up the shop, whichever you choose.”
“Miss Parker, what is it? Who were those two in the back of Mr. Terrell’s buckboard?”
“It was the Hanlons, Mary Ellen.”
“The Hanlons? But Mrs. Hanlon was just . . .”
“Yes, Jenny was in here just yesterday,” Meagan said as she wiped a tear away.
“Meagan,” Duff said when Meagan came riding up to Sky Meadow a short while later. “What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here, lass?”
It was not until Meagan dismounted that he saw the expression of extreme sadness on her face, and the red-rimmed eyes. She walked over to him and invited him to put his arms around her.
“What is it, lass? What has you in such a way?” Duff asked in a comforting tone, holding her close to him.
“Jenny Hanlon,” Meagan finally said. “Ethan Terrell brought her and her husband into town today.”
“He brought them in?”
“Dead. Both of them. Oh, Duff, they were shot. Someone murdered both of them. How awful it was!”
Duff continued to hold her in his arms for a long moment, letting her cry into his shoulders. He knew then why she had come to him. She had been holding the sobs in, and now, no longer restrained, she let them out.
Duff waited until she had cried herself out, pulled away, and put a handkerchief to her eyes.
“Do ye wish to go back into town, or would you be for staying the night out here?” Duff asked.
“I . . . I think I would like to stay here,” she said.
That evening before dinner, Meagan and Duff waited in the living room for Elmer to return. Elmer and a couple other men had ridden over to the Hanlon ranch to see if there was anything that needed to be done. While they waited, Meagan told Duff how Jenny had come into her shop just the day before to make arrangements to buy a dress for the christening of the baby.
Once again, tears began to slide down Meagan’s cheeks, though this time the crying was silent. Again, she dabbed at them with a handkerchief.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I just can’t get Jenny’s face out of my mind—she was so happy. And now . . . this. Oh, Duff, who could have done such a thing? And why?”
Just as she asked the question, Elmer came into the house.
“All his cattle is gone,” Elmer said. “Ever’ cow except for the milk cow. Funny thing, though, his horses is still there.”
“Cattle thieves,” Duff said.
“Yeah.”
“Here, Houser is so dead certain that ’tis the small ranchers who are stealing the cattle, but it was Asa Hanlon who was killed, along with his wife. A small rancher he was, but ’twas his cattle that were stolen.”
“I thought the territorial deputies were supposed to take care of that,” Meagan said.
“Apparently the only thing the deputies have done is kill one of their own,” Duff said, referring to the killing by Captain Harris of Knox, whose first name was unknown.”
“Yeah, ’n there’s somethin’ that’s just real peculiar about that, too,” Elmer said.
“And what is that?”
“Well, sir, when I was talkin’ to Mr. Welsh about the Hanlons, he told me about the bullet holes in Knox’s body. It was bein’ told that Knox shot at this Harris feller first, ’n then Harris shot back. But that don’t seem very likely now.”
“Why do you say that, Elmer?”
“’Cause Mr. Welsh said that Knox looked like he had been hit on back of the head by some kindly of a club, ’n then he was shot, two times.” Elmer paused for a moment before he added, “In the back.”
* * *
Although the burial of Knox and Sobel, three days earlier, had been an isolated event, attended only by the gravediggers, the joint funerals of Asa and Jenny Hanlon had been attended by almost everyone in town, as well as a large number of ranchers. Noticeably absent were Houser and his deputies. The cadre of deputies had now increased by two. After Knox was killed, Malcolm and Dobbins were “deputized.”
Twin Peaks Ranch was, however, represented by one man, Ben Turley. Ben stood alongside Mary Ellen, his head bowed, and his hat in his hand. He spoke to no one, except when he was spoken to.
After the burial, as the mourners began to leave the cemetery, Sheriff Sharpie asked Duff if he would drop by his office for a few minutes.
* * *
“It’s a sad day,” Sheriff Sharpie said, filling two coffee cups and passing one to Duff. “Asa Hanlon was as fine a young man as you would ever want to meet.”
“Aye, he was.”
“Duff, I want to ask a favor of you. And if you feel you can’t do it, I certainly understand, so don’t feel bad about turning me down.”
“Here now, Sheriff, ye have nae yet asked the favor, ’n it’s turning you down ye would have me doing. Ask me the favor, mon, ’n let me be for deciding my ownself.”
Sheriff Sharpie chuckled. “I guess you’re right, that’s not the best way to ask somebody for something if they’re wanting a positive response. The favor I’m askin’ of you is this. Would you be willing to let me make you one of my deputies? I don’t mean a deputy that would have to come into town ’n make rounds ’n such. Fact is, there wouldn’t even be anybody who would need to know you was deputyin’ for me except me ’n you, ’n whoever else you might want to tell.”
“The valley seems a bit overloaded with deputies now. Are you sure that you want another one?” Duff replied.
“It’s those other deputies that I’m worried about,” Sheriff Sharpie said. “I sent a telegram to the governor; he responded that both Brad Houser and Paul Harris hold commissions by him. The others have been deputized by those two.
“I’ll be honest with you, Duff. As they hold their appointments by way of the governor, they have more authority than I do, ’n that means they will have more authority than any deputy that I might appoint. So if you agree to take the job, you will have two strikes against you before you even start.”
“Two strikes against me?” Duff was clearly confused by the term.
“Oh, I forgot, you being a Scotsman that may be somethin’ you don’t understand. It’s a baseball term, and it means that if you decide to take me up on my offer to deputize you, that the odds will be very much against you being able to actually do anything.”
“Sheriff, ’tis quite a way you have o’ recruiting someone. If you are for thinking that I can nae do anything, why is it that you want to appoint me?”
“Because there’s something about all that’s going on around here now that doesn’t ring true. It’s going to take someone with a lot of courage, fortitude, intelligence, and good common sense to get to the bottom of it, ’n you have ever’ one of those attributes. Fact is, I’ve never met anyone in my life who has more of those virtues than you do. Will you take the appointment?”
Duff took a swallow of his coffee before he responded. “Aye, Sheriff, I’ll be your deputy, if you’ll be for granting me a concession.”
“What would that be?”
“I would be for wanting Elmer and Wang to be deputies as well.”
A broad smile spread across the sheriff’s face. “Consider it done,” he said.
“Perhaps we could start with the killing of Knox,” Duff said.
“You’re talking about how he was killed?”
“Aye. Elmer told me he had spoken with Welsh about the condition of Knox’s body.”
“The back of his head was bashed in, and he had been shot twice in the back,” Sheriff Sharpie said. “Yes, I know about it. I examined both bodies.”
Sheriff Sharpie got up from his desk and walked over to a filing cabinet where he opened a drawer, then took out a paper and showed it to Duff.
WANTED
for MURDER
(DEAD or ALIVE)
ELWOOD (“HARD”) KNOX
—Reward: $1, 000—
CONTACT: Sheriff Tate (Bent County, Colorado)
“Because of the dead-or-alive provision of this dodger, it doesn’t make any difference how Knox was killed.” After Duff looked at the reward poster, Sheriff Sharpie returned it to the file cabinet.
“I’ve informed Sheriff Tate that Knox has been killed, but I also told him it was by an officer of the law.” He slammed the file cabinet drawer shut. “At least the back-shooting son of a bitch won’t be able to collect on it.”