Chapter 10

There was little conversation at the gathering before dinner or at dinner, and Nick and Heath both turned in very early, knowing they would have a lot of work to do the next day. Jarrod found a good cigar and took some time to relax on the porch swing on the veranda in back of the house. As he smoked and rocked, he cleared his mind of all that was going on, of all the work he had to do the next day, of all the worry about finding Carl Wheeler's killer.

That was when something else dawned on him. Why hadn't he thought about it before? He jumped up, checked his watch and saw it was only nine o'clock. He hurried back inside and found his mother and sister in the living room, reading.

"Mother, I need to go back into town," he said as he headed for his hat and his gun.

"Tonight?" Victoria asked.

"Tonight," Jarrod confirmed and headed for the front door, before Victoria or Audra could even get up. "I need to see Fred Madden. I'll be back in a couple hours."

When he went out the front door, Victoria and Audra looked at each other. "He's thought of something about Carl," Audra said.

Victoria nodded. "I hope it's something helpful."

Upstairs, Nick's ears pricked up when he heard the front door close. He was only partly undressed and getting ready for bed, so he threw his shirt and boots back on and went downstairs, saying, "What's happening? What was that door slam?"

"Nothing, Nick," Victoria said. "Jarrod just decided he had to go back into town."

"Did he say why?"

"No," Victoria said.

Nick hurried out the front door, unaware his mother and sister were up and after him now. But when they got to the front door, Nick had already disappeared into the darkening stable yard.

Nick found Jarrod saddling his horse. "What's going on? Why are you heading back to town?"

"Just something I thought of I need to let Fred Madden know about," Jarrod said.

"Tonight? What?"

Jarrod paused and looked toward his younger brother. "Nothing you need concern yourself with, Nick. Let me do my job, and you get some rest so you can do yours."

Nick grabbed Jarrod by the shoulder. "I want to go with you."

"No," Jarrod said flatly.

"Dammit, Jarrod, I need to know what's going on. I buried my best friend today, and I need to know what you're doing about finding his killer."

"We've talked about this, Nick," Jarrod said, trying very hard to keep his calm. "You can only make this investigation more complicated by distracting both me and the sheriff. Stay here. Get some rest so you can handle two ranches."

Nick let go of Jarrod's shoulder. "You talk to me when you get back. I don't care what time it is. I want to at least know where you are in this investigation and who you have on the list of who might have killed Carl."

"Nick, I'm gonna tell you one more time, you have to stay out of this," Jarrod said, more sternly. "You've got work to do, and I've got work to do, and we're both better off if we stay out of each other's way. Because I will deck you, Nick, if you try to do anything about finding Carl's killer on your own. I will lay you flat out in the dirt."

Nick grew more livid and made a grab for Jarrod's shoulder again, but Jarrod saw it coming and swatted Nick's hand away. They stood glaring at each other, until Jarrod's horse whinnied as if asking them what they were doing and was he going to be saddled tonight or not.

Jarrod eased off. "Nick, take care of Carl's ranch. Let me take care of finding his killer. I will do it. I won't give up."

Nick sighed. "I'm sorry, Jarrod. I just – I just can't – " He didn't know how to finish the sentence.

Jarrod put his hand on Nick's shoulder now, but it was gentle, calming. "I know. Go to bed, get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow, and I'll tell you as much as I can then, but you have to stay out of it. You have to stay out of it."

Nick nodded, saying, "All right," and he turned and wandered back to the house.

Jarrod took a moment to rest his forehead on the side of his horse, letting the stress out. His horse whinnied again. Jarrod gave him a quick rub behind the ears. "I know, old boy. Being a Barkley horse is not an easy job, is it?"

XXXXXXX

It was pretty quiet in town on a Sunday night, but the light was still on in the sheriff's office. Jarrod hitched up outside the office and went in.

The sheriff was there, sitting on top of his desk. In the chair in front of the desk, Sully O'Mannion sat, on the edge, looking very frightened. Sheriff Madden looked up at Jarrod, who stood just inside the door. Jarrod motioned him outside.

The sheriff followed Jarrod onto the boardwalk in front of the door and closed the door behind him. "What is it?" the sheriff asked. "Something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Jarrod said. "I knew you were talking to Sully, and I suddenly put something together. Do you know a man named Walt Deavers?"

"No, never heard of him."

"He works for Wally Miles, like Sully does. You said that Sully told you he saw Sam Franklin go into the alley after Carl did, remember?"

"Yeah, that's what he told me but he couldn't have. Franklin wasn't even in town. I'm almost entirely sure of that."

"But Sully's sticking to his story, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's sticking to every bit of his story about the whole thing. What's your point?"

"Deavers is new in town. Been working for Miles for only a month. I played poker with him Saturday night, and I watched him walk away to the bar at one point. From the back, Fred, he looks a lot like Sam Franklin. Same build, same height, same way of moving. Maybe Sully is telling the truth, but he saw Walt Deavers and not Sam Franklin. In the dark alley, he might not have been able to tell the difference and just didn't know it."

The sheriff looked like he was thinking about it. He looked back toward his office before he looked at Jarrod again.

"It's worth asking Sully about, if you do it the right way," Jarrod said.

"Why don't you come in and give it a try? I can stay ornery, you can ease up on him," the sheriff said.

Jarrod considered it, then nodded, and the two of them went back inside.

"Hi, Sully," Jarrod said as he came in. Sheriff Madden took a stand next to the door to the cell block while Jarrod sat down on the edge of the desk. "I know we haven't talked yet, but I'm acting district attorney right now. If you're to be prosecuted for Carl Wheeler's murder, I'd be the one prosecuting you."

"I didn't do anything!" Sully cried, and he looked scared to death.

"I didn't mean to say you would be prosecuted," Jarrod said. "I just want to make sure you know my place in this. I'm not a defense attorney right now. I'm not talking to you as your lawyer right now. There's something else I want to try to clear up."

Sully just stared at him.

Jarrod shifted, moving a little closer to him. "You told Sheriff Madden that you saw Sam Franklin, Carl's foreman, go into the alley after Carl did, remember?"

"Yeah, I did!" Sully said. "He's been trying to tell me I couldn't have seen him, but I did!"

"I want you think about something," Jarrod said. "Think hard, Sully. Everything might depend on this. Is it possible that when you thought you saw Sam Franklin, you were really seeing somebody else?"

Sully looked confused, like he was trying to think and wasn't coming up with anybody else.

"Think hard, Sully," Jarrod said. "Picture it again. See the man again. Was he walking away from you or toward you or how when you spotted him?"

Sully was looked away from Jarrod now, looking back into his memory. After a few long seconds, he said, "He was walking away from me. I was mounted up. I looked toward the alley and that's when I saw him."

"Did you ever see his face?"

Sully shook his head.

"Did you see what his clothes looked like?"

Sully shook his head again. "It was too dark."

"Think about how tall he was, how he carried himself. Is it possible it was somebody other than Sam Franklin?"

They waited for Sully again. This time he closed his eyes. Jarrod didn't want to plant any names into Sully's head, but he wished like crazy that Sully would come up with another name, the one Jarrod wanted.

Sully started to shake his head, and then he stopped. "Wait," he said. "Maybe – do you know Walt Deavers? He just come onto the Miles ranch."

"I don't know him well," Jarrod said. "Are you saying it might have been Walt Deavers instead of Sam Franklin?"

"Maybe," Sully said. "They kinda look alike, and I just don't know Deavers. Nobody does. He keeps to himself, and I don't know what kind of man he is." Sully looked over toward the sheriff. "You say Sam Franklin wasn't in town – maybe it was Deavers I saw, if he was in town."

Jarrod took a deep breath, looking over at Sheriff Madden, who was coming toward them, sighing. "Okay, Sully. I'll ride with you back to the Miles ranch and I'll talk to Deavers."

"Don't tell him I told you," Sully said, looking nervous, and then he realized Deavers would figure it out pretty easily.

"If it was Deavers, we might need you to testify about what you saw," Jarrod said. He wanted to see what Sully's reaction to that would be. And though he didn't say so, he knew that Deavers might easily turn this all back on Sully and claim it was he who saw Sully go into the alley, not the other way around.

"I don't – I don't know – " Sully said.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," Sheriff Madden said.

Jarrod got up off the desk. "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, Fred. Sully, thanks for telling us what you know. That's what you should keep doing. If you're not involved in this, you have nothing to worry about if you're honest with us."

Sully just nodded vacantly. Jarrod nodded to the sheriff, and then he left and headed home.