Redemption, page 13
part #3 of Ladies of Larkspur Series
Samuel gave an exasperated sigh as though Art ought to have known exactly what was on his mind. "I'm wearing the green vest. If there's going to be shooting, I might get some blood on it."
Mitch, who had seen Samuel in the sheriff's office more than once, wasn't fazed. Detective Wilcox, however, stared at Samuel, his eyes wide and more than a little suspicious. Art shook his head. "I'll explain later," he said to the detective as he fought a grin.
****
Having overruled Samuel's request, it was Art and both the Wilcox men approaching Mrs. Ginty's boardinghouse where Deputy Jasper had a room. Mitch escorted the matron and two guests from the downstairs parlor out into the front yard and stayed with them, gun drawn. Wilcox and Art went up the stairs. Mrs. Ginty had given them a key to the deputy's room but had told them she didn't think he was in the boardinghouse at present.
The two men stealthily moved along the corridor outside his room. They arrived at his door, and Art slipped the key into the lock. Silent as could be, he turned it. As soon as the lock clicked, he twisted the knob and swung the door open. Wilcox burst through the entryway with Art on his heels.
"Blast it all! Where is he?" demanded Detective Wilcox. The man didn't curse, but if the look on his face was any indication, it wasn't for lack of wanting.
The room was empty.
Art took a quick look around the room. "It looks as if he packed in a hurry. Where would he go? What's his plan?"
"If he knows you well, then he knows what you value. He'd be going after what matters most to you so he can use it as leverage. Either that or he's making a run for it. Maybe both."
Detective Wilcox couldn't have known what those words would do to him. Running full-tilt, Art left the room, tore down the stairs, and slammed out through the front door. He heard Wilcox yell, "Everything's fine! You can go back in!" to Mrs. Ginty and her startled guests. Art didn't look back, but he was sure Wilcox and Mitch had to be on his heels.
When he got to the Smith house, he burst in through the front door. "Minnie! Minnie!" He went from room to room with his gun drawn.
Art could hear the other two men behind him. He was sure he heard Wilcox mutter something about him getting them all killed with his carelessness, but he didn't stop. He needed to find Minnie.
A search of the entire house yielded nothing. Art slammed his fist down on the kitchen counter and yelled, "Where is she?"
The trio heard a sound coming from the root cellar. Art had his share of memories from that room. It had been years, but the images were still vivid in his mind. He'd been charged with protecting Minnie and two other women. They'd all been ordered to the cellar where they'd be safest from gunfire. That's where he'd first learned Minnie wasn't partial to small enclosed spaces. The darkness had caused her to panic. As Art stared at the door, he remembered that it could only be secured from the outside – the side they were on. If Minnie was stuck in there, it was against her will.
They exchanged looks. "It's either a trap, or she's secured and can't get to the door," Art told the men. There would be no easy way to enter the cellar without getting in the line of fire if there was someone in there with a gun trained on the door. Art closed his eyes for a brief moment. Please God, keep us all safe.
Then he stepped to the door and unlatched it. He pushed the door open, gun pointed straight ahead. Knowing he would have to go in blindly because of the darkness, he stepped into the cellar. Wilcox and Mitch were behind him.
When the light reached the interior of the cellar, he saw Mrs. Smith tied to a chair and gagged. Art would never be able to forget the look of terror on her face as she saw three men approaching with guns all aimed at her. She couldn't possibly see their faces, backlit as they were. Before Art could reassure her, the mayor's wife fainted. The sheriff holstered his gun. "It's Minnie's mom. Get her untied and upstairs. I'll fetch the doctor and her husband."
"I can do that," said Mitch. "I followed the mayor long enough to know where to find him and the doctor. You stay with Mrs. Smith and find out what happened." Art stared at him for a moment before nodding his consent, then bent over Mrs. Smith to remove the gag. Meanwhile, Detective Wilcox withdrew a knife from his ankle sheath and began cutting away at the binds holding Mrs. Smith to the chair.
****
Doc Billingsly waved smelling salts in front of Mrs. Smith, and she came to with a start. "Minnie," she groaned, putting a hand to her head. "Where's Minnie?"
The doctor did a quick examination of her and then stepped away so she could be questioned. "I'll check her more thoroughly later," he said. "Right now this is more important."
"Mrs. Smith." Urgency rang in Art's voice. "Where's Minnie?"
"That deputy of yours came and said she was needed at the sheriff's office," she answered.
The mayor, kneeling beside his wife and holding her hand, gave new meaning to the word ashen.
Mrs. Smith continued, "Everything was fine until he tried to take her out the kitchen door instead of the front door. I think she got suspicious. She started asking him strange questions. None of them made any sense to me. He got angry then, and hit her on the head with the butt of his pistol. Before I could even scream, he was coming at me as well."
Looking up at Art, she said, "That's all I remember until I heard you yelling Minnie's name. I tried to scream, but I was gagged. Then I saw people coming at me with guns, and that's it," she shrugged, "until I woke up in here."
Art said, "I need you to tell me everything Deputy Jasper said while he was here. Recall every word you can."
"He told us you'd sent him to escort Minnie to the sheriff's office, that something urgent had come up, and you needed her. When he tried to lead her out the kitchen door, he said it was because there might be another person following her. She started asking him questions. How long had he been in Larkspur? How long had he worked for you? I-I told her not to be silly and to go with the man. It-it's my fault she was taken by that awful man."
Minnie's mother looked at him, and Art could see the anguish brimming in her eyes. He had to get Minnie back. Not just for Minnie's sake, and not for his own selfish reasons, either. Art needed to do it for the Smiths. They'd only just gotten their daughter back. Losing her again wasn't an option, not for any of them.
"This isn't your fault, Mrs. Smith," Art told her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Jasper had us all fooled." She finally looked him in the eye, and he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to find her."
Art stood and turned to leave. He faced the two men from California. "Gentlemen, I hope you're ready to saddle up and ride with me. It would appear I have no deputy at present."
****
"Is he going to want to kill her, or is he going to try to take her back to California so he can cash in?" asked Mitch when they arrived back at the sheriff's station where Art began divvying up his stash of weapons among the three of them. There was no time to wait for a posse.
"Killing her accomplishes nothing," Art said. "His life here is ruined either way, but if he kills her, he's got a bounty on his head and nothing to show for it. My guess is he's going to try to take her back to California to Carl's boss and see if he can collect some sort of fee for delivering her." Looking up, Art said, "At least I hope that's his plan. Nothing else makes sense. Otherwise, he would have left town, not bothering with Minnie at all."
Detective Wilcox watched the sheriff closely. "Unless it's personal? Would he have a reason to want to hurt you or the mayor?"
Art shook his head and said, "I can't think of one. This town has been nothing but good to him as far as I know."
Samuel fetched Mitch's horse from the livery, and the three men mounted up and rode south, Jasper's most likely direction. Most people heading to California would take the stage down to Promontory Point and then a train west. They had no way of knowing whether or not that was the fugitive's plan, but it was as good a place as any to start looking for a trail.
Chapter Twenty
In a sudden rush, Minnie regained consciousness. Her heart raced with terror. She was on a horse with somebody, but this was nothing like when Art had found her in the snow and rode with her tenderly cradled in his arms as he tried to find shelter for them. No, this was not at all like that. This man was riding hard and fast and not making any effort to cushion the bruising jostle of the saddle.
As Minnie tried to assess her situation, she realized she was blindfolded with her hands tied. This man – Deputy Jasper, she recalled – had set her astride on the horse with her hands secured to the pommel. Astride! In her dress! She didn't recall getting on the horse, but the feel of hard leather in all the wrong places and rushing wind against the bare skin of her legs told her she was indeed astride. The bite of the rope at her wrists confirmed she was bound, and the blistering heat of angry curses, even muttered as they were, informed her clearly that the man sitting behind her didn't have protecting the citizens of Larkspur on his mind.
Before she could form another thought, she began to pray. Dear Lord, please get me out of this. Help me to stay focused on what's important and not get carried away with my own indignation. Please, please, let Mum be unhurt. Keep Arty safe, too, Lord. If this is how it has to be for me, I can live with that. But please don't let anybody I love come to harm because of this terrible man and whatever his interest in me is.
It felt good to be on speaking terms with God again. Minnie was glad she'd invited him out of the corner after she'd been stranded in the snow. She would feel quite the hypocrite if she'd continued to ignore God and then called on Him now when she was in danger. Not that He would turn His back on her, even then. There was more she wanted to say to Him, but the pain shooting through her head grew in intensity until she again lost consciousness.
****
"There," said Art, pointing to tracks in the dirt. "One horse, carrying a heavy load." Looking around, he said, "It doesn't look as if he's headed for the train after all. He's veering off west. That doesn’t make sense, unless he's planning on riding the entire way to San Francisco."
"Or if he has a hideout somewhere around here?" Wilcox's voice hovered between question and suggestion, and Art welcomed the input.
Nodding, Art said, "We follow. Wherever the tracks lead, we follow. Everyone stay on alert."
"How long have you known Jasper?" asked Mitch.
"He came into town about a year ago. His credentials were from Salt Lake City, and he appeared to be a good enough sort. A little lazy for my taste, but I needed a deputy and didn't exactly have people vying for the position."
"Why didn't anybody want to work for you?" asked Wilcox.
"Long story," Art said.
"I'd say we've got the time," Mitch put in.
They were taking their horses over an outcropping of rock, and the going was slow, so Art took the time to answer. "I grew up in Larkspur. A lot of people look at me and still see the kid I used to be, or the awkward teen. People don't always take me seriously. When Sheriff Spooner stepped down to go help his sister in Montana, and the mayor appointed me, some folks thought it was a bad choice, that I wasn't ready to be sheriff."
Art paused as the horses worked to navigate the rough terrain. Once they were past the point where Mutiny needed his undivided attention, he went on to say, “What folks didn't realize is that I've wanted this job pretty much my whole life. Every second I was a deputy, I trained and worked and learned so I'd be ready if the opportunity to be sheriff ever came. I wasn't ever going to let the people of Larkspur down. I didn't want anyone to ever regret putting me into office." With a bark of derisive laughter, he said, "Then I went and hired a dirty deputy."
"Don't beat yourself up too much, kid," said Wilcox. "We all make mistakes sometimes. What's important is learning from them so we don't repeat 'em."
"If Minnie doesn't survive this, it won't matter what I learn," Art said before spurring his horse on ahead of the others, shutting down any further opportunity for conversation.
****
She woke again, this time more slowly. The terror of before had abated. As she ran her tongue along the backside of her teeth, Minnie realized she wasn't gagged. Why would he blindfold me but not gag me? Instinct told her to engage Jasper in conversation, to say something that would make him like her and not want to harm her. Conversation was the furthest thing from her mind, though, and any words that might be useful escaped her.
The saddle was uncomfortable, and she'd be lucky if she got out of this without a sprained wrist. Having her hands tied to the pommel gave her little opportunity to brace herself against the jostling of the horse.
"Stop pretending to be asleep. I know you're awake," came the raspy voice behind her.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"I was given an opportunity to make a lot of money, and I took it. Then your sheriff had to go and ruin it for me. I'm going to get something out of this if it's the last thing I do." His reply didn't sound angry as Minnie had expected.
"Where is this money supposed to come from?"
"There's a man in San Francisco willing to pay a lot of money to get his hands on you."
Such a statement could carry all manner of innuendo. Minnie shuddered to think what Jasper might mean. "Who is this man?" she asked.
"Ah, I don't think I'll be telling you that quite yet, Miss Minnie."
"You've always been so nice. How can you be willing to hand me over to someone so vile?"
"How would you know what I have always been? Hmm? You've been in town a couple of months, and how many times have we spoken to each other? Three? Maybe four? Don't pretend to know me, lady."
When Minnie started to say something else, Jasper reached a hand around her midsection and squeezed tight, effectively forcing the air out of her lungs. "That's enough talk for now," he said. "If you keep it up, I'll have to find a way to silence you."
Feeling the man's arm across her midsection, a band of steel securing her in place, Minnie gave up on conversation. As he removed his arm, his fingers traced across the fabric of her dress. Fighting panic, Minnie tried to control her breathing so it wouldn't betray her fear.
****
Darkness began to descend, but Art wanted to continue tracking Jasper. "Mitch and I aren't used to this terrain," Wilcox said. "And the chances of you losing that trail in the dark are too great. Let's make camp and get a few hours shuteye so you can see straight tomorrow. The horses need a break, too. They'll be fresh by morning and ready to go again. Jasper's going to have to stop, too, especially with the heavy load his horse is carrying."
Art grudgingly gave in. Even Mutiny was slowing down. He knew the California detective was right, but fear for Minnie made him want to push forward. They led the horses to a small stream. Thankfully it wasn't frozen over, and the animals were able to drink their fill. The men decided to forego a fire so they wouldn't give away their position. With not much more than hardtack and jerky in their saddlebags, it was a quiet and unfulfilling meal before they bedded down.
"I'll take first watch," offered Mitch.
Art studied the man for moment before asking, "Who's Cora?"
It was almost too dark to notice it, but pink tinged the tops of Mitch's ears. The junior detective broke eye contact, looking away.
Laughing, Wilcox said, "Tell 'im, kid, and get it over with. I doubt he'll spread it around, and you know he's not going to let it go until he has his answers."
Mitch glared at his uncle and then said, "You know how some kids have imaginary friends, right?"
Art nodded.
"I wanted a sister, so I made up an imaginary sister."
Staring at the man as if he'd grown another head, Art asked, "And you named her Cora?"
Mitch shrugged and said, "It's as good a name as any."
"That was clever," Art said to Wilcox. "No one impersonating him could have known the answer."
Clapping his nephew on the back, Wilcox said, "Yeah, well, I'm just glad he's alive. I thought for sure he was fish food." The break in his voice betrayed the depth of his emotion. "Not sure what I would have done if I'd lost him."
After a short time, Art spread out his bedroll and reclined, resting his head against his saddle. "Wake me when it's my turn to keep watch."
Art closed his eyes and tried to think about how good it would be to see Minnie. He focused on what he'd do after they caught up with her and Jasper. The smell of her hair, the defiant twinkle in her eyes whenever she thought he was being bossy. He was going to wrap her in his arms and never let go. Minnie was going to be fine, and he'd see to it that no harm ever came to her again.
Lord, please let that be the case. I don't think I could handle the alternative.
He drifted off to sleep, his dreams plagued by thoughts of everything that could go wrong, every terrible thing that could be happening to Minnie while he lay there in camp.
****
Jasper stopped his horse. "We'll make camp here." He untied Minnie's hands before roughly shoving her to the ground. Then he dismounted and took a long draw from his canteen before offering it to her. She took a drink, loath to put her lips on the same rim his mouth had a second ago touched. As if he sensed her reluctance, he leered at her and said, "I only have one bedroll. Guess we'll have to share."
Minnie knew she'd be helpless if he tied her up again, so she decided to do her best to get him to trust her. She sat down, docile in her actions, and made no attempt to escape. Hugging her knees to her chest, she shivered in the cold night air. It was spring in the mountains. The sun had warmed them during the day despite the bracing air. With the sun down, however, the temperature had begun to plummet.
