Out of the Blue
By Aimee L. Dupre
Peacemakers™ USA Networks Fan Fiction
Author's Name: Aimee L. Dupre
Comments to: aimee-duprelycos.com
Web page at: http:aimee-dupre.tripod.com
Category: new scene
Pairing: none
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Status: WIP
Summary: Marshall Stone's actions in the civil war may come back to haunt him. This is a teaser or prologue to a work in progress about a serial killer on the loose in Silver City.
Archive: none
Disclaimers: The characters in this story are the sole property of Peacemakers™ USA Networks in association with Michael R. Joyce Production. This is a work of fan fiction that intends no infringement on any copyright or trademark.
Warnings: none
TEASER (Prologue)
The eastern sky lightened on a crisp, spicy autumn morn in the Colorado of the late 1880's.
Marshall Jared Stone drew in a deep breath of the cool air. It was still the wee hours of the morning, but he'd been awake now for some time. He gazed out at the still quietly sleeping city nestled amidst the pines. Silver City -- his city.
Some time later, in the mid-afternoon, Detective Larimer Finch took a buggy ride in the countryside. Still new to the area, he enjoyed exploring the landscape of his newfound home at every chance he got. He'd finished his work in the laboratory just after lunch and took advantage of his free time.
He soon came upon a small farm on the far outskirts of Silver City, where he met a woman trekking towards town on foot. He pulled up his horse on the road leading to her farm. Pleasantries and introductions exchanged, and she introduced herself to him as Mrs. Robert Richmond, a widow woman living alone because she had no family left except her son.
"Can I get a ride into town with you?," she asked. "My boy's comin' home today. He'll be on the three o'clock train."
"It's nearly three now, Mrs. Richmond," Finch politely commented. "We cannot make it."
"We'll make it all right, 'cause the train's always late."
"Oh, very well," Finch said as he helped her into the buggy.
"How thankful I am to the Lord to see him once more safe at home!"
"Where's he been?"
"All over, he says in his letters," she answered. "Places I'll never see, never even dream of seein'. Vicksburg, Manassas, some place that starts with a 'g' in Pennsylvania. That's the last place he wrote me from. Why, I hardly slept at all last night, I was so excited about seein' him again. Today is the fifteenth, isn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Today's the day. I'm so glad you showed up when you did, Mr. Finch. I didn't know how I'd get into town otherwise. These old legs won't hold me up for that long a journey."
She prattled on and on until Finch wondered if he bothered Marshal Stone that much when he prattled on and on. Surely not.
They got to town and watched the train pull in. The old woman peered into every man's face who disembarked, but her son wasn't there.
"Just don't know what could've happened to him," she told Finch.
Marshall Jared Stone came up on them.
"Mrs. Richmond," he gently called to her. "You're getting' all upset over nothin' again."
Aside, to Finch, he said, "This happens every month, on the fifteenth. She's a little early today, I guess 'cause you gave her a ride."
Louder, he said, "Mrs. Richmond, you know your boy's safe up on the hill."
She looked up at the marshal with a tear in her eye, but his expression was kindly towards her.
"Oh, Marshal Stone. Silly me! That's right," she said. "Maybe this nice young man will take me there to see him. I got things to tell him."
"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Finch, you don't mind givin' Mrs. Richmond a ride up to the cemetery, now do you? Bobby Junior is buried just inside the gate, on the right. Mrs. Richmond, you be sure and tell him I send my regards."
"I will, Marshal Stone. Come along, young man. Don't dawdle. Help me in this buggy."
Finch did so and turned to Stone.
"She's harmless enough," he told Finch in a low voice. "She forgets he died at Gettysburg some twenty-five years ago. Comes every month on the fifteenth. That was when his body came back on the train. She'll go visit his grave now and talk to him some. Then she'll go on home and forget about it until next month."
Stone paused and looked pensive. "You know, Finch, the war cost more than anyone can put a dollar price on."
"Isn't there some family who can look after her?"
"Well, now, I reckon that's why the good Lord sent you, Mr. Finch," Stone said. "And me. To help look after the ones who need lookin' after."
Finch got a far away look in his eyes and quoted, "Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction."
Stone looked startled, and Finch explained. "James 1, verse 27. My parents were missionaries, you know."
"Yea. I forgot there for a while. You ever think of bein' a preacher, Finch?"
"It's not a calling a man gives himself, Marshal."
Stone nodded in agreement. "Wish some of those tent preachers I've heard tell of believed that."
Suddenly, Mrs. Richmond's voice cut through their conversation.
"Young man! My boy's waitin' on the hill. You gonna talk the daylight away?"
"No, ma'am. I'm coming."
He gave Stone a wry smile and got in the buggy.
"Giddyup," he called out, slapping the reins on the rump of the horse, and the buggy jerked away from the train station.
Stone flinched as he looked after them. Poor fellow couldn't even properly drive a buggy.
(to be continued)