Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks (10 page)

“I can’t say one way or the other since I have a fiancé. He doesn’t care all that much when I show other men attention,” I said, not wanting the woman to think I had my eye on Redd, too. It seems strange to me that so many people would be attracted to the man, but I supposed the pickings were mighty slim in this town.

“That’s good to hear. I sure don’t need any more competition in this town. Bertha Anne has her eye on him already.”

I smiled. “Bertha Anne? I don’t think I have met her yet.”

“She’s a saloon girl over at the Tumbleweed Saloon and a might younger, I might add.”

“Does Redd spend time over there?”

“Yes, like most men in town when they’re not working. I’ve tried for years to get close to Redd, too, but he’s a hard man to pin down.”

For some reason, my mind drifted to a vision where Glenda lassoed Redd and dragged him back to her shop. “I can see that already. I still can’t believe he’s still single and hasn’t ever been married.”

“I know, but I’m gonna win that man over if it’s the last thing that I do,” she said with a nod.

“That’s not why we’re really here,” Eleanor cut in. “We heard you know more about this town than anyone.”

“I can’t say I do or don’t, but I aim to help. What can I help you folks with, now?”

“How long have you been living in Silver?”

“All of my life. My family was one of the earliest residents. In 1850, after prospectors first found gold, Silver was founded, with only a saloon and general store built. It wasn’t long before the word got out and folks flocked to Silver. Of course, the businesses weren’t more than shacks in those days, but my ancestors went on to enlarge the building into what is now the Willington General Store. The Tumbleweed Saloon was also the first saloon, although on a much smaller scale. The rest of the town consisted of tents that housed the miners who flocked to town when they heard gold had been discovered here. By 1873, additional businesses were built, along with the construction of the Goldberg Hotel. Of course, that didn’t last as good as most businesses did. Did you know that the property the Goldberg Hotel was built on was once the Winfield Hotel? It was burned to the ground in a fire, and let me just say that not all of the bodies were recovered before the Goldberg was built over it. I personally feel that the soil is cursed since the Goldberg has always had such rotten luck, and now I heard they found remains in their legendary Room 109.”

“So the Goldberg Hotel was built over the remnants of the Winfield Hotel?”

“And they never found all the bodies before they built the new hotel right over it?” Eleanor asked.

“Yup. You’re both right. It’s no wonder that so many spirits inhabit that building.”

Caroline appeared in the store, but lingered in the corner, listening.

“What a horrible tragedy. How many people died in the fire?”

“Over fifty souls perished that day. It was the day after the Gold Rush Festival ended, and most of the people staying at the hotel were celebrating long into the night. Nobody’s sure how the fire started, but the miners were blamed as there was a dispute over pay that was going on at the time for those working in the mines.”

“That’s just so awful, but I can’t imagine that the miners would want to set the fire since they’d be the first ones blamed,” I said.

“I agree with you, Agnes, but those were strange times since the miners really were disgruntled.”

“Why haven’t I ever heard about this before?”

“Oh, have you ever even heard of Silver before, or did you hear about it from your travel agent?”

“Actually, I found it online and it seemed like a quaint ghost town and worth our time coming here. I just had no idea how strange it would be, or just where it would take us.”

“That’s odd. I guess I didn’t even know that this town was even advertised on the internet.”

“I’m surprised that you even know what the internet is,” I said with a sly smile.

Glenda’s hands went to her hips. “I’m not totally in the stone ages, you know. Is there anything else that you’d like to tell me—about the Goldberg, that is?”

“Actually, I was the one who found the remains at the Goldberg,” I said.

“How exciting. Can you tell me what the condition the body was in?”

“Not exactly sure what you mean by that, but what I will say is that it must have been there for at least a century.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“Is it possible to talk about Leister’s Gold now?” Eleanor asked, giving me a ‘what’ face when I glared at her.

“Oh, is that what this all about?”

“Actually, there’s a family that might be lost out there somewhere.”

“One with a child of five,” Eleanor added.

“I’m not sure, but I have a vague memory of such a family.”

“And the history of Leister’s Gold is?”

“Peyton Leister was about as greedy a man as any of the men that came to Silver looking to strike it rich, but he certainly was also a braggart. He wanted everyone in town to know how much gold he found, which was quite an amount, but there were those in town who outright didn’t like the man. Nobody in town would allow Leister to turn in his gold. They wanted to keep it quiet about how much gold the man had found. I suppose hoping that they’d strike it rich.”

“Or planning to steal his gold,” Eleanor said.

“Yes, that’s exactly what they tried. One night, while Peyton was in town, a few of the men he worked with betrayed him and they raided his cabin, looking for the gold.”

“So they robbed him?” I asked.

“Oh, no. Peyton was much smarter than folks gave him credit for. When nobody would buy his gold, he hid it in an undisclosed location.”

“I can’t say I blame him.”

“Was he angry?” Eleanor asked, while Caroline was all ears, standing next to her, absorbing the story.

“You betcha he was. After that happened, Peyton disappeared for days. Nobody had a clue where he went, but when he came back from parts unknown, he was empty-handed. Minus his gold.”

“Did he hide it or—”

Glenda’s eyes narrowed. “They say that Peyton melted his gold down and cast it into gold bars, gold that he had hidden somewhere around Silver.”

“What did Peyton do after that?” I asked.

“All of Peyton’s belongings were packed up and he was never seen again, but they found his wagon days later in a deserted location. Since his wagon wheel was broken, folks figured that he’d become lost and perished in the harsh climate.”

“But do you know for a fact if there is any truth to the story that he melted down the gold and made it into gold bars?”

“I can’t say that for a fact, since I wasn’t even born way back then, but the story is that the gold is out there somewhere and it’s up to someone to find it if they’re so inclined.”

“And nobody has ever found the gold?”

“Nope, but there have been plenty of folks through the years that sure have tried. Some, I reckon, met a tragic end since they were never heard from or seen again.”

That would be the truth if someone didn’t know that area. “I’m concerned about a family and their five-year-old daughter,” I said. “If they’re on some kind of wild goose chase looking for the gold bars, it might spell trouble for them.”

Glenda waltzed over to a roll of fabric, massaging it between her fingers. “Legends are just that. Nobody knows what would cause anyone to chase after a legend without thinking about how perilous a journey that would be.” She disappeared into the back and returned minutes later, handing me a map. “Here’s a map of the town and it might be in your best interest to go into each business to ask additional questions. To be honest, nobody has shown any interest in the missing family before, so why now?”

“I won’t be able to rest until this mystery is solved, and hopefully, I can find someone who might know where the family was heading. I’m afraid that if they’re still alive, they are on borrowed time.”

 “Peyton was banned from town for the most part, with very few friends. There’s just no telling if someone knows for certain where the gold is, or who might be searching for it.”

I thanked Glenda for her help and we took our leave, promising to return under more pleasant circumstances next time.

* * *

Caroline hovered on the clapboard sidewalk, holding onto her 1930s-style hat like it could actually blow away. “What a great story,” Caroline said.

“Story is right,” Eleanor said. “What do you make of it Caroline?”

She frowned. “Well, I’m just not sure. This Peyton fella sure seemed to go to extraordinary lengths to hide his gold. Why not just pack it up and sell it in another town?”

“Good point, but if we’re to assume that the story is true, I can’t help but wonder if he really did attempt to take the gold with him and he was found out, possibly robbed and then murdered,” I suggested.

“There might not be any truth to the story at all,” Eleanor said. “Just a good story to tell tourists.”

“I’d hope they wouldn’t willfully lead tourists astray, Eleanor. If they did, they very well may have endangered the lives of that family.”

“I’m sure they were told that it was simply a legend.”

“I guess we’ll never know unless we find that family.”

“Find the family?” Eleanor asked. “For all we know, they don’t exist. No offense Agnes, but you had a dream, is all.”

My hands went to my hips. “Then how do you explain that Francine was in my dream, and that there’s a real family with a five-year-old girl missing?”

“I-I’m not sure, but you don’t even know what that family even looks like. Think logically here for a minute. We just had a significant dust storm and the temperatures are in the nineties here. How would any family be able to survive under those conditions?”

I bit my lower lip, knowing that Eleanor was right, but I wasn’t so willing to let this go just yet. Not until I paid a visit to the sheriff to find out if there was really a Sheriff Wilford. I didn’t want to tell Eleanor that in my dream, there were men dressed in clothing of the 1800s. If she knew that, she’d insist that I just accept the fact that I had a dream and that’s it.

“I just don’t know, but I’m not ready to give up just yet. I can’t help how I feel. I just know I have to find this family and if you don’t want to help me, then go back to the hotel and hang out with the men,” I said as I walked up the sidewalk, a tear in my eye.

“Would you wait up, Agnes? I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. I guess I’ve just never been on a case like this before. That’s what this is, right—a case to you?”

I turned and wiped at my tears. “It’s not. I just have to find this family, is all, before it’s too late for any of them.”

Eleanor gave me a hug. “Don’t worry so, old girl. I’m right here to support you and I’ll do whatever is necessary to see this through.”

Caroline smiled. “I should get back to check on the menfolk. I’d hate to leave them alone too long in a haunted hotel.”

After Caroline faded away, we made our way into the Tumbleweed Saloon, which was much larger than I’d thought. There were plenty of tables in the joint, with a long, mahogany bar that looked a bit rough, but still had quite the shine.

There were cowboys strategically placed, playing cards in the far corner, and I wondered if they were planning to have a reenactment of some sort. When the table was knocked over and someone yelled, “Cheater!” I knew it had to be.

Next, a man raced over to them. His white ruffled shirt had a white apron tied over it. “Please, not in the saloon. Take this fight outside.”

Fists were thrown and a cowboy was knocked into the man who dodged out of the way, watching the melee from the bar with a saloon girl clinging to his arm. One man went crashing into a table, and as the men drew their guns, the sheriff burst into the saloon with a rifle against his shoulder. “Stop it, all of you, or you’ll be dead where you stand.”

The fighting stopped, and the men moved to right the tables and sat down again. I didn’t know who this man was, but he most certainly wasn’t Sheriff Bradley. I wasn’t able to see the man clearly just yet, but when he lowered his rifle and apologized to us for the ruckus, my eyes widened in recognition. “What’s your name, Sheriff?” I asked.

His hazel eyes softened. “Sheriff Wilford at your service.”

“I thought Sheriff Bradley was the sheriff in Silver,” Eleanor said in a high-pitched voice. “One of you is an impostor.”

He laughed. “You’re right there, my fine lady. I can see not many people get one by you.”

Eleanor gushed, “You got that right, mister. I figure you for an actor and this whole scene was a reenactment, right?”

“That’s right, although I don’t think I’ve ever been called an actor before, but we try to put on a good show for tourists. This is our slow time, but in a few days, the town will be plenty busy with the Gold Rush Festival. I sure hope that you ladies will be sticking around for that.”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “Can you have coffee with us? We’d sure like to chat with a real reenactment actor.”

“Coffee? I don’t think the Tumbleweed Saloon sells coffee.”

“He’s joking,” the saloon girl said as she showed us to a table near the window. “I’m Bertha Anne and I could even make you a latte if you’d like. Just don’t tell the boss man.” She winked.

“I’d love that if you have anything in vanilla. I haven’t had any vanilla creamer since I came west for vacation.”

“Not to worry. I’ll fix you up. I brought back some goodies from Reno on my last trip.”

She sashayed away, her blue saloon-girl’s skirt swaying. “Is that the same girl Redd is sweet on?” Eleanor asked me.

“More the other way around,” the sheriff said. “The pickings in this town are mighty scarce.”

“So, what’s your story?” I asked him.

“I came to Silver for a job as a mock sheriff after my acting gigs in Hollywood came up drier than the mineshafts in Silver,” he laughed. “It’s fun, though. There’s nothing like pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I know just what you mean,” I said. “Do you ever hang out at the jailhouse?”

“Sure do. The sheriff doesn’t seem to mind me tending shop when he’s out and about. I’m really good at taking messages.”

“Is it really true that the sheriff doesn’t have a computer?”