The Boy Who Looks Like Me
Chapter 1
Autumn, 1878
The four and a half hour train ride from Sacramento to Stockton never seemed so long and Jarrod never had more trouble staying awake for it. Weeks away from home, lobbying for prison reform yet again, had really ground him down, with its long nights and early mornings. He felt more like 75 than 35 by the time the legislature adjourned, and he felt even more frustrated than ever that they had only passed token laws that put bandages on the problem. But, as he told himself year after year, sometimes you have to butt your head against a wall for a very long time before even one brick moved.
It wasn't until the train jerked to a halt in Stockton that Jarrod even realized he'd fallen asleep. He gathered up his papers and stuffed them into his briefcase while the train dislodged regular passengers and freight. Then he headed toward his baggage to grab it before getting off.
His brother Nick crashed through the door, virtually singing, "Come on, you lazy product of a corrupt government circus act!" Nick tried to grab him and lift him into the air.
But Jarrod dodged him and gave him and bear hug of his own. "Good to see you, you capitalist land grabber!"
It had been more than a month since they'd seen each other, but neither one noticed much of a change in the other. "Where's your stuff?" Nick asked.
Jarrod pointed to his bags under the middle window of the car, and Nick grabbed them while he grabbed two fat briefcases himself. "So what's new?" Jarrod asked as they climbed off.
They climbed down to the platform and then down to the street where a buggy waited. They loaded Jarrod's things into the back of the buggy before Nick said, "Well, there is a bit of news I oughtta let you in on."
"What's that?" Jarrod asked.
Nick motioned him to climb into the buggy as he climbed in and took the reins. Once Jarrod was in, Nick backed the buggy up and then steered it down the street. Then he only had to point.
Jarrod looked to see the building where his office was. Or actually, wasn't. The building his office was in and the buildings on either side of it were only piles of rubble.
"What the - ?!" Jarrod cried, almost standing up in the buggy.
Nick pulled up beside the remains of the buildings.
"When did this happen?!" Jarrod belted out.
"Two nights ago," Nick said. "We figured since you were heading on home today, there wasn't much sense in wiring you about it. Somebody doesn't like you again, big brother."
Jarrod looked at him, open-mouthed. "What are you talking about?"
"Dynamite," Nick said. "About five times the charge that old Joshua Cunningham threw at you a while back. But whoever did it probably knew you weren't there, or anybody else was, for that matter. It looks like more of a warning than anything."
"That's a helluva warning," Jarrod said, and his anger began to surge up into his throat.
Jarrod's anger was not something people wanted to raise up. The locals would rather face Nick's fiery temper than Jarrod's smoldering explosion. Nick was quick to anger, but at least it burned out fast. Jarrod's might be slow in comparison, but when it blew, it stayed blown.
Jarrod climbed out of the buggy and stood facing the ruins of his office and several others. "Has anybody tried to salvage anything out of this?" he asked.
Nick stayed in the buggy. "No," Nick said.
"How do you know it was aimed at me?"
"Chad at the depot saw the blast come out of your office."
Jarrod heaved a big sigh. "Has Fred Madden investigated this?"
"He's at it."
Jarrod turned on him. "Why aren't you more upset about this? The paperwork on every case I had to put on hold while I was gone was in there!"
"I know," Nick said calmly, "but I figured you'd be upset enough for both of us."
Jarrod said, "I want to go see Fred."
"Figured you would, but you'd better ease up first," Nick said.
Jarrod turned as if he hadn't heard him and walked to the sheriff's office, noticing for the first time that the street was full of people and that they were moving out of his way – far out of his way. He was damned happy about that. If whoever destroyed his office was watching, Jarrod wanted the man to know every bit of the anger he felt. Nick followed along in the buggy, not really worried about his brother's temper, at least not yet.
Jarrod barged into the sheriff's office as Nick hitched the buggy to the rail. Sheriff Madden was sitting at his desk, looked up and saw Jarrod's expression, and didn't even bother with a greeting. "Saw your office, did you?"
"I saw it," Jarrod said, controlling his temper.
"I don't have any suspects yet – nobody saw who threw the dynamite in."
Nick came in then.
"Nick said Chad at the depot saw the explosion," Jarrod said.
"He did, but he only saw the back of a man running into the alley beside the theatre. He couldn't identify him and he didn't see him throw the dynamite in."
"Who are you questioning? Have there been any threats against me lately? Has anybody sounded happy about the explosion?"
"Give me a chance to answer, Jarrod!" the sheriff said and stood up. At six foot six, he was the tallest man in town and he often used that to calm irate people down, but it never worked with a Barkley and it didn't work now. "I haven't heard any threats and so far nobody's been saying anything about the explosion except the standard things – 'did you hear that,' 'who do you think did it,' " Then after a brief hesitation, he decided to say the thing he'd heard that might get to Jarrod the most. "'How long before you think the lawyer will have his hands around somebody's throat?'"
Jarrod flamed up, but it immediately died down. As handy as his temper might be sometimes, he didn't like being thought of as the local thug. He really didn't like it when his family or friends like the sheriff worried that he might actually hurt someone, but he knew that once you did something to give you the reputation, it would never go away. "I'm sorry, Fred," he said. "I'm just – tired from too much time in Sacramento and – LIVID that my office is gone!"
He felt Nick's hand land on his shoulder. "Look, why don't we head on home? You get some rest, let Fred do his job. It won't be long before we get a bead on whoever's behind this."
"When can we see if anything can be salvaged?" Jarrod asked.
"Looters have had at it already," the sheriff said. "Must have taken them all of five minutes to move in."
"Didn't you have anybody guard it?!"
"Sure I did, but the looters moved in fast before I could get anybody over there!"
Jarrod moaned.
"Get some of your men over here tomorrow," the sheriff said. "They might be able to find a few things, but chances are anything worth stealing has been stolen and anything made of paper didn't survive the blast."
"Come on," Nick said and pulled at Jarrod's shoulder a little.
Jarrod made an angry huffing noise and went out the door. Nick looked at Sheriff Madden, who sighed at him. "Never dreamed I'd be preferring your temper to his."
Nick said, "Me neither, but it sure is nice to be the easy going one for a while."