Four Days from Pueblo
Chapter 10
A Little White Lie
Doc pulled the buggy up and stopped in front of the jail. "I don't know about this. I don't see Matt in there... Are you sure he knew you were coming?" Too long a silence from his companion suggested an answer he didn't like. He turned to find a pair of sapphire eyes refusing to make contact with his. "Dagnabit! You lied to me, didn't you!"
"I didn't… lie—not exactly. " Kitty hid under half-closed lids. "You know I'm not supposed to go out alone." Now she looked up at him, slightly more defiant. "Well! I'm not alone."
The old physician scrubbed his hand across his moustache, unable to conceal his irritation. "I DON'T think this is what Matt had in mind! I'd give my life for you, but without a gun, or a few less years on this old body, I can hardly defend you, can I?"
Kitty could hear the genuine concern and anger in his tone. "I'm sorry I tricked you, Doc." She reached over, cupping his cheek in her palm, forcing him to look at her. His eyes met hers for only a second, before he pulled free. It wasn't often that he was this upset with her. Shame was starting to poke its head into her normally confident demeanor.
"You don't seem to understand. I'm not mad about me. Kitty, you put yourself in danger when you do things like this. You're always so quick to lecture Calleigh, but… where do you think she gets it?"
Contrition forced Kitty's head down, as she stared at her folded hands. "You haven't been this mad at me, Curley, since I went to town and got caught up in that bank robbery."
Her words evoked a sudden gasp from the old man. Faded grey eyes darted toward his surrogate daughter. He did remember that morning. For the rest of his life he would remember being angry and chastising her. He would also remember how close he came to losing her—and never being able to say he was sorry. Although he was still angry, Doc knew to temper it with forgiveness.
In a softer tone, he reached for her hand. "Please, in the future, remember we are all just looking out for your safety."
She leaned over, placing a kiss to a weathered old cheek. "I will. I promise." Kitty waited while Doc climbed out of the buggy, then offered his hand to help her down. Just as she stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the jail, Tuke Wilberly came running from the direction of the clinic.
"Doc, quick—I need you to come up here! I was going fishing at Willigers and…she was just layin' out there. Dead as can be!"
"Well who is it, Tuke?" Doc glanced at Kitty, his irritation surfacing again because she had come into town on false pretenses. "Isn't Little Doc there? She was supposed to be seeing patients today."
"Tuke shook his head nervously. "Nobody's there. But...you still need to come and see this." Doc looked toward the upstairs clinic, then back to Kitty.
Again, he was torn between his duty as protector and his obligation as a doctor. "I can't very well leave you alone..."
Kitty nodded toward the big buckskin tied to the hitching post. "Buck is here, so Matt hasn't gone too far. I'll lock the door of the jail. It'll be okay, Doc. You need to go with Tuke."
Doc grumbled under his breath, something about redheads driving him to an early grave. He waited until he heard the bolt slide forward on the jailhouse door before heading down the street.
"Come on, Tuke. Let's go see who she is."
MKMKMKMKMKMKMK
Trick walked ahead of the two lawmen. This had to be about Bob Tillerman. If Dillon sent him back to Denver, they would hang him for sure. It had been a fair fight, but it was Tillerman's only son and the old man wasn't accepting his boy's death easily.
Matt Dillon had a reputation of fair play and Trick decided his only chance was to appeal to that sense. "Marshal, if you send me back to Denver, Bob Tillerman will hang me, sure. It was a fair fight. I swear."
Matt scowled at the young man. "I don't know anything about Denver, or Bob Tillerman, but murder is a hanging offense in Kansas, too."
For the first time since the marshal had pulled him out of a peaceful sleep, Trick was more confused than he was scared. "Murder? I haven't drawn my gun once since I been in Dodge!"
Daken's hands hung at his side, his fingers balled tightly into fists. He couldn't hold his silence any longer. "It didn't take a gun, did it, to choke those women to death?"
Those words tripped up not only Trick's feet, but his tongue as well. "Murder!? What...I…what do you…mean, women? I ain't never hurt a woman in my life!" He finally stumbled to a complete stop.
The marshal whirled around, grabbing Trick by the collar. "That right? Then how'd you get thrown out of the Oasis for smacking Ginny Ann?"
Trick dropped his head, while emphatically shaking it no. "No… No, no, no. That was a mistake!"
"Hitting a woman usually is." There was no mercy in Dillon's tone, as that was definitely a sore spot for the marshal.
"No! That's not what happened, Marshal. I was drunk and got into an argument with some guy they called Milo, from the Bar X outfit. Ginny Ann stepped in the way. I would never have hit her on purpose. Obie threw both of us out."
Matt remembered the now deceased Milo from the shooting at the Prairie Rose. Hocum could be telling the truth about Ginny Ann, but that didn't mean he didn't kill those other girls. A big hand went to the young man's shoulder, but before the marshal could push him toward the jail, he heard Doc call to him. From across the street, he saw the old physician and Tuke Wilberly, standing by a wagon in front of the clinic. Doc motioned for Matt to come over.
The marshal walked in front, letting Daken escort the prisoner from behind. From the dour expression on Doc's face, Matt knew something bad must be in the wagon. He could make out the shape of a body under a tattered old blanket. Doc lifted the gray wool cover, just as the three men stepped up. Both of the lawmen were disheartened by the discovery, but it was Trick that uttered words of surprise.
"Oh my gosh! I know her." Trick flinched back, shock etched in every line of his face. "That's Carrie Sue." Just as quickly, shock gave way to sadness. "Ahh, she was such a nice girl. Real sweet."
An eerie silence had found a home in that little corner of Front Street, weaving its way through the circle of men. It wasn't until the young cowboy finally glanced up, that he realized he was the one suspected of committing this horrible crime. Trick staggered back a step. "I didn't do this! I would never have hurt her. Never!"
It was always hard when a young person died, but Carrie Sue had been so full of life. Matt shared a sad look with the sheriff, before turning back to Doc. "Do you know when?"
"Sometime this morning. Early, I'd say."
"I was still passed out, Marshal. Just ask Cletus. He'll tell you." Trick's gaze bounced from one lawman to the other, seeking mercy. "Ask him!"
"Are you sure, Doc?" The old man nodded and Matt turned back to the sheriff. Daken couldn't mask his disappointment. It wasn't that he wanted Trick to be guilty. It was just that this young man was the last of the six suspected men off the Pueblo stage—and his last chance to catch the killer of his child.
Dillon turned back to the anxious young man. "I don't have to ask Cletus. You're in the clear, at least for these murders." Matt towered over the cowboy. "But, Hocum, for your sake, I hope you didn't drink up all your money, 'cause you're gonna need a stake to buy a horse. I don't want to know about Denver, or Tillerman, or anything else. I just want you out of Dodge—by sundown."
Trick backed away, his head bobbing wildly, as he readily agreed to all of the marshal's terms.
TBC