Murder at Thumb Butte (3 page)

Mary spotted us immediately and approached with a worried expression. “Mr. Dancy, pleased to see you again.” She gave Sharp a sly look. “You too, Jeffery.”

“
Mary, ya know … oh never mind. What’ve ya got in the kitchen?”

She wiped her hands on her apron, looking nervous. “You know I can’t serve Jeremiah.”

“
Who owns this place?” I asked.

“
The county got it for back taxes.” Looking around, she said in a small voice, “I’m leaving as soon as I save enough for coach fare.”

“
Is Peter at the bank?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

“
I’ll go see him. In the meantime, get Jeremiah water and a meal.”

“
Will you save me from a beating?’

“
I will.”

“
Then hurry. I want to see you back here before I serve food.”

“
Fair enough, but give him water now.”

Sharp hoisted his rifle across his chest. “I’ll stay with you.”

She looked uneasy but nodded assent.

As I started to leave, Sharp grabbed my arm. “Be careful. People know we’re in town.”

_{Chapter 3}

The foyer looked familiar from my days running this bank, but back then I had been on the other side of the cage. It being midday, the miners were underground, so the bank was empty. In fact, when I peered through the iron bars, I couldn’t see Peter. I rapped hard to get his attention. Banging my knuckles on counters was becoming a habit.

Peter emerged from around the corner with a
how can I serve you
smile that faded when he recognized me.

“
Hello, Peter.” I kept my tone neutral.

“
You may call me Mr. Humphrey.”

“
Got uppity since you made bank manager?”

“
No, sir.” There was a sarcastic note to his voice. “That happened when they put me on the board of Commerce Bank.” He put his banker’s smile back in place. “Thank you for giving me my first banking position. How can I help you?”

“
I wish to speak to the county supervisor.”

“
I’d switch hats, but I’m not wearing one.”

“
Show me the tax statements for the hotel, the general store, and Mary’s.”

“
I’m sorry, but you’re not a lawful resident of Mineral County.”

“
I’m a property owner.”

“
No longer. The hotel was foreclosed. You have no standing.”

I saw where this was going, and I didn’t like it. I tried to look mean, which didn’t work that well for me. “Back when I met you, I should’ve allowed my colleague to break your neck.”

The previous summer in Carson City, Peter had been the assistant to a prominent lawyer. He had barred our access to his office, so I jokingly ordered Sharp to break his neck. Peter had jumped aside faster than a hare caught unawares by a coyote.

Unperturbed, Peter asked, “Do you have banking business?”

“
No, but I want you to step over to Mary’s with me and tell her she can serve Jeremiah a meal.”

“
I’m sorry, that’s beyond my duties. Mary can serve anyone she likes. Unfortunately, she doesn’t like Jeremiah.”

I suppressed my first impulse, which was to reach through the bars and yank his head until it banged against the steel rods. “I’ll be back shortly with a local citizen. Have the tax statements ready for us to review when I return.”

“
No.”

“
What do you mean,
no
?”

“
Local citizens can only see their own tax records. We can’t allow just anyone to rummage through the personal records of other people.”

“
Peter, do you remember who I am?”

“
A rich man who resorts to guns to solve business issues, but you can’t run roughshod over us. We have laws now, and deputies to make people like you behave properly.”

Furious, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I want my buckboard and horse. Are they at the livery?”

“
What are you talking about?”

“
You know exactly what I’m talking about. I loaned you a rig to drive from Carson City to Pickhandle. I said it was yours to use as long as you remained in my employ. Do you still work for me?”

“
Absolutely not.”

“
Then I want my property.” He looked confused, so I added, “I have the papers in my saddlebag if it comes to that.” It was a bluff.

His expression changed to a smirk. “Not necessary. I’ll tell the liveryman to turn the rig and horse over to you.”

Winning my small victory, I stomped out of the bank with far too heavy a footfall.

Now what? My inclination was to throw Jeremiah onto my reacquired wagon and get the hell out of this sad encampment. My quarter share of the hotel wasn’t important to me. Damn. I realized there was something that was important to me—my friends. Our common ownership in the hotel meant we wouldn’t go our separate ways and forget about each other. Jeremiah had also lost his store, and as a shopkeeper in a prior life, I knew that store was worth more than the entire hotel. I wouldn’t call Mary a friend, but we liked each other, and she had been kind to me last summer when I had some trouble in this town. She didn’t deserve to have her café stolen by crooks that wielded ledgers instead of pistols.

I was still thinking about how to handle the situation when I stepped into Mary’s café. The first person I saw was Clive, hovering over Sharp with what I thought was a menacing pose.

I kept my gun hand hanging loose at my side. “Good morning, Marshal.”

Clive stood full height and faced me with an expression that conveyed no threat. “Mr. Dancy, I don’t want trouble. Your beef is with the sheriff.”

“
Everybody in this town is pointing to someone else.”

He shrugged. “Things ain’t the same. I’m only town marshal now, so I don’t got say anymore. Leastways, not where it’s important. County has the power now.”

I was angry and intent on provoking an argument. “Being the town authority and all, are you going to stop Mary from serving Jeremiah?”

He shrugged again. “No skin off my back.”

“
Clive ain’t the problem,” Sharp said.

“
Fine.” I sat down and waved Mary over. “Bring me steak, eggs, and lots of bread. I’m starving.”

She looked hesitantly at Clive, and he actually winked at her.

“
Be seein’ you gents.” Clive gave us a little farewell wave and walked out the door.

“
What the hell’s going on?” I asked Sharp.

“
Clive’s been shut outta the town graft by the new boys.” Sharp chuckled. “He’s a bit put out, but he still won’t help us. Get anywhere with Peter?”

“
No. I’m thinking the smart thing is to get the hell out of here. Take Jeremiah to Belleville until he’s well enough to travel to Carson City.” I glanced at Jeremiah to see how he took to the idea, but he looked resigned to whatever his fate might be.

Sharp leaned across the table to emphasize his point. “That’s what I’m thinkin’. There ain’t nothin’ here for us ’cept trouble.”

“
Jeremiah?”

He looked furtively toward the kitchen. “I’m just hungry.”

Before I made a decision, I needed to ask a question. “Jeff, is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

“
Nothin’ that … oh hell, Steve, ya don’t want to know.”

“
I do.”

Sharp gave me a hard stare before saying, “Jenny’s part of this.”

“
Jenny? How?”

“
This is her doin’.” Sharp leaned back and looked sad. “She might be tryin’ to hurt ya by destroyin’ yer friends, or she could just be takin’ over the state. Ain’t privy to her thinkin’.”

Jenny Bolton had been an infatuation—one that had gotten me in real trouble. Escaping her charms had required me to see her for what she really was—a terribly disturbed woman who masked her emotional wounds with stunning good looks and girlish effervescence. I had broken it off last autumn and had seen her only from a distance during my long winter in Carson City.

“
I don’t understand. Why would she want to hurt me? She never cared about me.”

“
Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but she sure as hell didn’t like ya dumpin’ her in front of her hands.”

“
Damn.”

After a long silence, Sharp said, “Ya can’t fight her.”

Sharp looked at me with sympathy. Before I became too embarrassed, Mary brought over a huge plate of food, snapping it down directly in front of me. I stood and shoved the plate aside. “Not hungry anymore. Jeremiah, don’t let my meal go to waste.”

I bolted out of the café and raced after the marshal. I figured his heavy gut would have him breathing hard after a single flight of stairs, but I chased him all the way to his office before I caught up.

“
Marshal, I want to talk in private,” I said.

Clive nodded toward his office and bounded up the three steps with surprising agility.

Once inside, I decided not to waste time. “Clive, how would you like to run this town again?”

“
Go on.” He tried to sound indifferent, but I saw a light come into his eyes.

“
This Sheriff Madison, he do anything wrong, anything you could arrest him for?”

“
Me?”

“
You, and a few friends.”

I could see he liked the idea. “How many friends?”

“
Four. Me, Sharp, and two of his toughest guards.”

He rubbed his chin. “Five against three ain’t bad, but they don’t fight fair. One of the deputies always comes up from behind with a shotgun.”

“
Then we know how they work. But I want to arrest them for a legitimate crime, one that would put them behind bars for years.”

“
You
want to arrest them? Who put you in charge?”

“
You’re the marshal, and we’ll be your deputies, but if you ignore my counsel, we’ll ride out of town and leave you to deal with this mess.”

Clive casually leaned back in his swivel chair and rocked a bit. “Agreed.” He didn’t hesitate. “With enough gun hands backin’ me, there won’t be any problem gettin’ witnesses to extortion, larceny, assault, and possibly murder.” He swung his chair up straight with a snap and leaned over his desk. “What do I get?”

“
Everything you had before, except for the hotel.”

He thought a second. “I want clear title to Ruby’s.”

“
I thought you always had that.”

“
Nope. Washburn owned half. After you killed him, somehow that weasel banker got hold of his half. You want to set things right for your friends, then I want full ownership of that flea-infested whorehouse.”

“
How about Peter? Anything?”

“
Malfeasance. But once we get him locked up, we can search his books for embezzlement.”

I wasn’t so sure about embezzlement, but malfeasance as county supervisor should keep him locked up for a couple of days, and it would certainly be sufficient to get him fired. Once he was dismissed, Commerce Bank would quickly sell their ownership in a whorehouse.

“
Agreed.” I held out my hand.

Clive leaped to his feet and shook my hand. “Glad to be on the same side this time. Get your boys in here, and I’ll swear you all in as deputies.”

“
Not Sharp’s men. Swear them in as deputies in their room. Letze="s keep our superior numbers secret for now.”

Clive laughed so hard, his ample belly bounced up and down against the desktop. “Yep, mighty glad to be on the same side this time.”

_{Chapter 4}

According to Clive, the sheriff and his deputies generally spent most of the night in saloons, so they were seldom seen before mid-afternoon. The three of them always moved around town together. When they entered a business—any business—the sheriff and one deputy came in the front, and a second deputy entered quietly from the back, carrying a shotgun. The shotgun was normally used to threaten but on occasion had been used to kill. One time, the shotgun had terminated negotiations with a stubborn business owner. That incident had stopped all further resistance by townsfolk.

After we stashed a satiated Jeremiah in a hotel room, Sharp and I waited in the lobby, while Clive worked to convince a few witnesses to lodge a complaint. Sharp had his ever-present Winchester leaning against a seat cushion by his left hand, and I had loaded my Colt with a sixth bullet in case of trouble.

I was reading
Roughing It
, by Mark Twain, when Sharp tapped my leg with the toe of his boot. I didn’t turn to see who had entered the hotel because we had prearranged the silent signal that would tell me to put my attention on the back door.

I heard a voice behind me. “Mr. Sharp. What brings you to town?”

Sharp laid his newspaper beside him on the settee. “A friend needed help.”

“
What friend?” I heard wariness in the voice. “And who’s this gent?”

I slowly stood and turned toward the voice. I saw a young man, probably about my age. He looked confident, not dangerous. In the West, however, I had learned that those two traits could be the same thing. He wore a Colt Army Model at his belly in a cross-draw holster and a large knife on his right hip. His shirt and pants were as dusty as everything else in Pickhandle, but they were nicely tailored, and his boots, belt, and hat were top-notch.