Chapter Twelve
Deliberate, random, rapid burning, intense heat, deaths, injuries and fear. Jess mulled over a variety of descriptive words from the marshal's announcement that hadn't been removed from Mort's desk since he first read it about the arsonist that targeted a neighboring Nebraska town. Each one could fit almost every detail with what happened in Laramie, except for one: Mort's house. Jess tapped his finger over and over again on the word random, knowing that the arsonist that was ravaging Laramie could have picked the local lawman's house by pure chance, or, Jess moved his finger up a few sentences on the page and rested the tip on deliberate, it could have entirely been on purpose.
Mort's home was known by everyone in and around Laramie and even a stranger could easily discover its whereabouts in a short manner. Mort often left a note on his office door at mealtime where he'd be, and although the message didn't ever include a map, it gave an obvious sign that Laramie's sheriff didn't just reside in a bunk somewhere in the jail room like other lawmen in the west often did. A simple question to anyone would result in a quick answer that Mort's house was located not far from the edge of town. The barn, being the only one that stood so close to town, his den of pigs and the wide covered porch at the front of the house made the location easily recognizable.
Jess rubbed the back of his neck, more to touch the aggravated burn that was there instead of a subconscious movement of deep thought. He could run these same thoughts around and around in his head all day long but it still wouldn't get him any closer to an answer without further evidence. And with the two exceptions of the storage shed and the attempt to burn the bakery, if there had been any noticeable evidence to point to a random or deliberate act, they'd all burned to the ground.
Jess stood, his feet taking him to the doorway where he looked through the barred window, knowing that the westbound stage would be coming in soon. If his memory on the stagecoach schedules was accurate, Mose would be bringing in the late afternoon stage. Jess wanted to catch the friendly driver as he would be bringing with him any news from out at the ranch and what Jess especially wanted to know was that everyone was healthy and safe at home.
While Jess waited for the stage to arrive, from his position at the doorway he kept his eye on the townspeople that milled about the street, always searching for anyone that fit the description of the arsonist. There weren't many people in sight, in fact, one could call the town almost desolate. Freddie had mentioned the previous night when Jess was out making sure all of the town's business doors were locked that practically everyone was staying at home to guard their places and that his saloon was "as lonely as a skunk must feel with the way everyone always avoids them."
Jess smiled when the familiar sound of the stagecoach rolling into town met his ears. Seeing Mose holding the reins made him feel like a little bit of home had just come into town. Jess had spent many years by himself and could have been categorized as a loner at different times in his life, but unlike Freddie's statement the previous night, he would have never compared himself with a solitary skunk. He did bathe once in a while. But now that he'd been part of a real home, loneliness was far from a welcoming feeling and even just a sliver of home life that the stage brought was enough to bring a lift to Jess' burdened shoulders.
"Howdy, Mose," Jess called with a smile that brightened his face when the stage came to a complete stop. "How's everything back at the ranch?"
"Just fine," Mose said and then waited until the three passengers departed the stage before he turned to Jess with a lopsided grin. "But Slim says that he's got a long list of chores for you to do when you get back."
"Sounds like Slim," Jess crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably the only reason why he'd ever miss me in the first place is that there's more work to do when I'm gone."
"That's not what I hear," Mose laughed, giving Jess a pat on the shoulder as he did so. "Everyone's eager for your return, especially little Mike."
"Unfortunately I don't know when that's gonna be, Mose," Jess felt a sigh try to push through his lips but he let it go silent. "There's just too much tension going on here in town with an arsonist on the loose. With Mort still recovering, I ain't able to come home." Jess didn't add that he was still recovering too, mostly on the inside than his outer wounds. He couldn't even begin to analyze if any of those inside hurts had felt any touch of relief.
"I understand," Mose nodded as he craned his head to look up and down the main street. "I can't help but look for smoke every time I make my run and am always glad when I don't see any. Speaking of my run, I almost hit some fool cutting across the road a ways back. You'd think a man on foot would be a mite more careful."
"What'd he look like?" Jess asked quickly, every nerve in his body becoming alert since the two times he'd seen the arsonist he'd been running on foot.
"Oh," Mort shrugged rather nonchalantly, unaware that Jess was sensing a possible connection with the man he was after. "I'd say he was taller than you, maybe taller than Slim. Kinda skinny."
"Where Mose?" His level of alertness was even more heightened.
"About five or so miles back," Mose pointed towards the east. "After he scurried outta the way, I didn't see where he went after that. Probably was drunk or something."
"Thanks, Mose," Jess stepped away from the stage driver, his feet striding towards the livery stable.
It could be him. Although one wouldn't say that Mose's description would be concrete evidence, Jess knew it was as good as any other leads that might come his way. Jess saddled quickly, ready to take Traveler eastward, but even though he had a direction, where he'd go beyond that would be anyone's guess. Jess paused after he fitted himself in his saddle, momentarily wondering if he shouldn't be leaving to chase down a potential shadow, especially when sundown wasn't far away, but he also knew that any delay in action could result in someone else falling victim to the arsonist. Jess nudged Traveler into motion and they soon began covering the ground away from Laramie.
As Jess rode, his mind continued to play out any clues he had that might piece together an idea where the arsonist could possibly be going. If only the reply to his telegram had come from North Platte he might have had an advantage, but he still only held in his hands the evidence that he'd already known. Jess still had a strange notion that Mort's home was the key to unlocking any possible mystery behind the fires, but finding the connection so far had proved impossible, unless he could trace something from the very beginning.
Even though the scenes were ugly as they began to be replayed through his memory, Jess went over and over each fire with as many details as his mind contained. He'd strangely been involved in all of them, being one of the first to come to the aid of the Garrett children, discovering the Detering's home not only fully alight, but finding the two wonderful people inside had perished, and then Mort's home and both of their close calls with death. But there was a small fire in between the Detering's and Mort's house fires that Jess shouldn't forget. The storage shed.
What had Mort said after the flames had been beaten down? Jess had already been more involved in the images that rolled through his mind than the land that he was covering so it was an easy step to take to remember Mort's comment that at the time seemingly meant nothing, but now, perhaps it meant everything. "I had just walked through there … If someone started that fire, I sure don't know how I missed seeing him."
"Mort did miss seeing him," Jess said out loud, feeling like a dawning ray of light was shining on him, "but what if the arsonist didn't know that?"
Jess recalled the conversation he'd had with Freddie when the bartender recounted his friend's death, bringing up a theory that his saloon had been purposefully hit by an arsonist. Even though he hadn't received a reply from Nebraska's marshal, Jess already knew the connection would fit. Mort had been specifically targeted. His place was burned to the ground because the arsonist thought Mort had seen him.
Jess' pulse began to beat a little faster, because there had been one more fire on the list in Laramie. This one had never been fully started because Jess himself had stopped it. Alongside the bakery when Jess had come face to face with the arsonist, there was a flaming crate that neither man would soon forget. Jess felt the realization hit him in the chest with such a violent force that for a moment he couldn't breathe. He would be the next target, or at least, his home. The ranch! Jess nearly leapt out of the saddle as Traveler sprang forward as the race to save his family once more began.
Jess never had the thought that he could be wrong, but if it had been possible for a message to be relayed through air instead of over a telegraph wire, he would have received his confirmation. At that moment back in Laramie, a telegram was being delivered. With each word that the telegraph operator wrote down brought the news that the arsonist that hit Nebraska had targeted one house, that of a man who supposedly had witnessed the madman at work.
The man who'd hit Nebraska and the man who'd attacked Laramie were one and the same and now his fire loving hands were at work at a very familiar ranch and relay station.