Chapter Four
"I've been at a loss in how to help Jess, Mort," Slim sat in the sheriff's office after attending the Detering's funeral. It hadn't surprised him when Jess had declined to go and with him staying home, it gave Slim an opportunity to take his need to help Jess one step further. Slim tugged on his necktie so that it unraveled, hanging loosely around his collar. He kept his hand clenched longer than necessary on the edge of the tie and Mort noticed immediately that his friend showed signs of grave concern. "Doc Sweeney had a suggestion, and I'd like to try it, but it'll involve you, too."
"How so, Slim?" Mort sat opposite Slim, his dark eyes looking intently into the face of the younger man. "You know I'd do anything to help the both of you."
"Doc thinks if Jess has a change of scenery, it might help with his…" Slim paused, still not knowing how to reference Jess' problem. The doctor said it was a condition of his mind, but he'd never want to paint a picture of Jess being slow or dimwitted as most men attributed a mind altering condition. He frowned, looking down at his feet and then he cleared his throat. "Well, with his dilemma. I want him close, but not at the ranch for at least a week and I was wondering if you'd deputize Jess."
Mort rubbed his hand over his face, understanding what Slim was asking of him. He'd do it in a heartbeat any other time, but there was a problem looming over his head that he was concerned would harm Jess more than help him. He shuffled the papers on his desk until he found the notice that he'd received from a U.S. Marshal in Nebraska and then handed the lengthy worded page to Slim, watching as the light colored eyebrows rose as he read.
"Arson?" Slim looked up at Mort as he dropped the paper back onto the sheriff's desk. "You think this is an arsonist like what happened in Nebraska a few weeks ago?"
"I can't rule it out," Mort sighed, restacking the papers that had gone astray as he'd searched. "This isn't the only incident either. About a month ago up in the Dakota's nearly half a town was destroyed by a fire bug. The law could never lay hands on the fool that lit them all off. What happened in Nebraska was eerily similar and after the fire at both the Garrett's and Detering's places I inquired if the one who'd done the burning had ever been caught and as you just read, the answer is no."
"Couldn't these two fires be unrelated and just an accident?" Slim asked, tapping his fingers on his thigh, feeling the agitation rise in his chest. If there really was an arsonist loose somewhere in Laramie, then Jess wouldn't be safe from his fears no matter where he was placed, unless he left town completely and that was out of the question.
"It's possible," Mort said, leaning back in his chair. "The oldest Garrett kid admitted to his mother that none of the kids were paying attention to the cook stove like they'd promised they'd do while she was out gardening and no one mentioned seeing or hearing anything abnormal just before the fire broke out. But it's the Detering's that has me the most concerned. I was rummaging around in the rubble long into the dark that night and I found shards of glass outside on the ground behind the house where no windows were placed. When I bent down to examine them, I was certain I smelled kerosene."
"That could easily be explained as a lamp that was left on the back porch or hanging on a wall," Slim pointed out while Mort nodded his head. "I've seen fires blow items away from the house like an explosion when they're as hot as that one was."
"True," Mort agreed, wishing he really had solid evidence, "but it's my job to wonder."
"And while you're wondering about fire and arsonists, Jess shouldn't be underfoot," Slim sighed and stood up, his right hand resting on the back of his neck as he contemplated what his next move should be. He had come to Mort with a genuine feeling of hope inside of him, but now, that hopefulness was quickly dwindling. He turned away from Mort but heard the lawman move his chair backwards and then a moment later, a firm hand touched his arm.
"I want to help, Slim," Mort said, watching the lines of concern that were etched into Slim's face. "Let's give this thing a few days to see if anything else develops. If there is no new evidence pointing towards arson, then bring Jess on over."
"And if there is?" Slim turned his head, but kept his feet planted on the floor and bore his eyes into the gentle, but firmly set face of the sheriff.
"Then may God have mercy on all of us for what's about to come," Mort said slowly, watching the anxious reaction that flickered in Slim's eyes as he spoke his words. "Fire could just as well touch us all before this thing is over."
Slim returned home, keeping his conversation with Mort completely quiet. There was no point riling up Jess about the possibility of a temporary relocation to Laramie when it was still uncertain if it would even happen. There was also no point in adding to Jess' fears by giving him the news that Mort suspected an arsonist as being the cause of the fires. Slim didn't like to keep important information from Jess, but considering the current circumstances, as grim as they were he figured it was for the best.
For two long days Slim waited for word about a new fire or any other suspicious activities in the area, but none came. From what he understood by the stage driving gossip chain, townspeople were already beginning to relax. Slim rode into Laramie early in the morning, ready to take the next step in the quest to help Jess, since the inner turmoil that his partner faced hadn't been diminished in the slightest bit. Slim walked into Mort's office, receiving an immediate supportive nod from the lawman upon his entry. There was no way to know if what they were hopeful to do in getting Jess to stay would help him or not, but both were willing, but the greatest hitch could come when the news was relayed to Jess. His reaction had the possibility to bring the plan to a complete halt before it even began.