Death Rides Alone (20 page)

“I believe there's still some coffee in the pot on the stove,” Mrs. Keller said. “Would you like a cup, Mr. Jensen?”

“That would be much appreciated, ma'am,” he told her.

“Have you had any supper?”

Luke had left the box canyon to ride to White Fork before Tyler rustled up any grub, so he said, “No, ma'am, I haven't. Things have been a little hectic.”

“I have some leftover roast beef. I'll bring you a plate.”

The judge said, “We're not running a hash house here, Mildred.”

“No, but we're going to be hospitable to our guests,” she said to him, then smiled at Luke. “I'll be right back, Mr. Jensen.”

Luke took off his hat, returned the smile, and told her, “I'm much obliged to you, Mrs. Keller.”

“Well, I feel like I owe you a little something. I
did
poke a rifle in your back, after all. I hope you don't have any hard feelings about that.”

“None at all,” he assured her.

She left the study, taking the Henry repeater with her. Judge Keller waved Luke into a leather chair in front of the desk and took his seat behind it again. He picked up the cigar, knocked the ash off the end of it, and stuck it in his mouth.

“Start talking,” he said around the cylinder of tobacco. “If Judd Tyler didn't kill the preacher's girl, then who did?”

Luke sat down, looked across the desk at the judge, and said, “Spence Douglas.”

Keller leaned back in the chair almost as if he'd been struck. His nostrils flared above the mustache as he drew in another deep breath. The cigar bobbed a little as his teeth clenched on it, and the coal on its end glowed red.

“Spence Douglas,” he repeated as he set the cigar back in the ashtray. He reached for the glass of whiskey and downed it. As the empty glass thumped down on the desk, the judge went on, “You know Spence's father is the richest, most powerful man in this county.”

“I'm well aware of that,” Luke said. “That's probably why Spence believes he's above the law. His father feels the same way.”

“No one is above the law in my jurisdiction, damn it!”

“That's what Judd Tyler told me. He says you're the most honest man in White Fork. That's why he's willing to stand trial in your court.”

“He ran away.”

“He was scared,” Luke said. “He had just found the body of a young woman he greatly admired, who had been brutally choked to death. She was still warm, Your Honor. And Tyler already blamed himself for not being able to save her life.”

“That didn't stop him from taking off for the tall and uncut like a frightened rabbit.”

“That's because he knew no one would believe him if he tried to tell anybody what really happened. Then, some of Manfred Douglas's ranch hands found him and started yelling about how he was a killer and shooting at him.” Luke leaned forward in the leather chair and clasped his hands together between his knees. “That's important, Your Honor. Those Circle M riders didn't find him with Miss Montgomery's body, yet they already knew she was dead and they immediately accused him of killing her . . . just like they had been told what to do and say.”

The judge's bushy eyebrows lowered as he stared intently across the desk at Luke.

“I know what you're implying. You think Spence saw those men who work for his father and told them Tyler killed the girl . . . which means that if Tyler
didn't
do it, Spence must have.”

“It stands to reason,” Luke said. “He probably ran off into the woods when he heard someone coming and hung around long enough to see it was Tyler. It's the only explanation that makes any sense.”

“Not necessarily. Many things
sound
logical but aren't true.”

“Then throw in the fact that Spence argued with Miss Montgomery not long before she was killed, and the evidence against him begins to pile up.”

Keller shook his head and said, “What you're talking about is a theory, Mr. Jensen. Pure speculation. A court of law requires
proof
. Lacking an eyewitness, it must be concrete, physical evidence indicating guilt.”

“Tyler claims that he has proof of Spence's guilt.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

Luke didn't answer for a moment. Then he said, “I don't know. Tyler hasn't told me.”

The judge blew out a scornful breath, leaned back in his chair again, and shook his head.

“Then everything you've just told me, in addition to being irregular and improper, is worthless. Pure supposition, nothing more.”

Before Luke could say anything else, the door opened and Mrs. Keller reappeared, carrying a tray into the study. The smells drifting from the coffee cup and the plate with several slices of roast beef and a couple of biscuits on it made Luke's stomach clench with hunger.

Mrs. Keller put the tray on the desk and said, “Here you go, Mr. Jensen. Have you and my husband worked out all the legal details of young Mr. Tyler's case yet?”

“We're still discussing it, ma'am.”

“Well, don't let me interfere. Enjoy the food and coffee.”

“I know I will. Thank you.”

“I'm just glad you're trying to help Judd. Clarence and I tried to steer him onto the straight and narrow, you know.” She sighed. “I'm afraid the effort wasn't successful, but I still don't believe he's as bad as he's been painted.”

“Neither do I, Mrs. Keller. And for what it's worth, he told me that you and the judge tried to help him. He thinks kindly of you.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Thank you for telling me, Mr. Jensen.” She turned to her husband. “Clarence, do you need anything?”

“No, Mildred, you've done enough,” Keller said. “You should go and get some rest. It's late.”

“But not too late for Judd Tyler, I hope.”

“We'll see,” the judge said in a gruff voice.

* * *

Mrs. Keller had heated up the coffee. Luke was grateful for its bracing effect, and the roast beef and biscuits filled his belly and made him feel better, too.

Keller waited while Luke was eating. He puffed on his cigar and sat with his fingers steepled in front of his face, frowning in what appeared to be deep thought.

Finally he said, “Where is Judd Tyler now, Mr. Jensen?”

“I can't tell you that, Your Honor.”

“I could send for the sheriff, you know. You're unarmed. I could hold you here and have you arrested, then compel you to answer my questions or be held in contempt of court.”

“You could have me arrested . . . but you couldn't make me talk. You can't hold a dead man in contempt of court.”

“What in blazes do you mean by that?”

“I mean the minute your back was turned, Axtell or one of his men would gun me down and then claim I was trying to escape. They have their orders from Manfred Douglas. He's already handed down a sentence of death for me and Tyler alike.”

Keller shook his head and said, “I've never liked or trusted Gus Axtell, but you're making him out to be a cold-blooded murderer.”

“If that's what Manfred Douglas wants, that's what he'll get.”

“Tell me more about everything that's happened. You said there have been several attempts on your life?”

For the next few minutes, Luke went over all the trouble he and Tyler had run into on their way to White Fork, along with his growing conviction that Tyler was innocent, at least of Rachel Montgomery's murder.

“I was as skeptical as you starting out, Your Honor,” he concluded, “but the more time went by and the more I saw for myself just how crooked Axtell's deputies are, the more I believed Tyler's story.”

“Just what did you intend to accomplish by coming here and telling me all of this tonight?”

“I left Tyler in a safe place,” Luke said, “because I wanted to talk to you and let you know he wants to give himself up. He wants to stand trial so he'll have a chance to tell his side of the story and produce whatever evidence he has. But he knows he can't do that if he surrenders to Sheriff Axtell. The only way is to keep him out of sight until the trial starts. Not even Axtell and Manfred Douglas would dare to kill him in open court.”

“They'd have to kill me, too,” Keller said. “And that would get the U.S. Marshals in here. Maybe even the army.”

“Exactly. So what I'd like to do is slip Tyler into town and hide him out here, in your house.”

“Good Lord, man!” Keller put his hands flat on the desk. “How would that look, a murder suspect spending the night in the judge's house?”

“Once the story gets out and everybody knows you were just trying to keep him safe so he could stand trial, I don't think it would reflect badly on you, Your Honor.”

“Well . . . perhaps not.”

The door swung open and Mildred Keller marched into the study again.

“I think it's a splendid idea,” she said.

The judge came to his feet and said, “Mildred, I told you to go to bed, not to eavesdrop outside my door.”

“Oh, and since when do I let you tell me what to do? You don't issue any judicial rulings from the bench in
this
house, Clarence Keller!” While the judge stood there looking half-flabbergasted, Mrs. Keller turned to Luke and went on, “If you can bring Judd here, Mr. Jensen, I give you my word he'll be safe. No one has to know he's here until it's time for him to appear in court.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“No need to thank me. I'm just as devoted to the cause of justice in my own way as my husband is. Clarence knows that.”

“It's true,” Keller admitted with a shrug. “If Mildred does something, it's because she believes in her heart it's right. And since I've always trusted her heart . . .” He nodded. “All right, Jensen. If you can get Tyler here, he'll be safe.”

“Thanks, Your Honor. How soon can you get a trial set up?”

“I can hold court tomorrow morning. There's nothing else on the docket. It'll take a while to empanel a jury, but not too long.” A smile appeared on the judge's lips. “That won't give Manfred Douglas time to do anything except rattle his hocks into town when he hears what's going on.”

“You think someone will get word to him?”

“Oh, he'll find out, sure enough,” Keller said. “There are enough of his toadies here in White Fork that one of 'em is bound to go racing out to the Circle M on horseback or in a buggy with the news as soon as the trial starts. But maybe it'll be over by the time he gets here. If Tyler is telling the truth about the evidence he has, there's a chance of it, anyway.”

“Axtell may try to delay matters.”

“Let him,” Keller said with a dismissive wave. “I run my courtroom, not the sheriff.”

“One thing you should remember, Your Honor . . . if things don't go their way, Douglas and Axtell are liable to decide to take the law into their own hands. Things might get ugly.”

“I'm not afraid of them. Not with the law on my side.”

Before Luke could say anything else, the sound of someone pounding on the front door of the house reached the study. Keller caught his breath, and his wife said, “Oh, my. Who could that be at this hour?”

“Nothing good, I'll wager,” Keller said. “Mildred, do you mind finding out who our visitor is?”

“Not at all,” she said. “Now, where did I put that rifle?”

After Mrs. Keller had hurried out of the study, the judge said to Luke, “We'd better get you out of sight, just in case.” He motioned to a door at the side of the room. “There's a storage closet through there. You can wait there until we find out what's going on.”

Luke picked up his hat and settled it on his head. He asked, “What about my guns?”

Keller hesitated, then jerked his head in a nod.

“Go ahead and pick 'em up. I suppose at this point, I either trust you or I don't, Mr. Jensen.”

“I'm glad you decided in favor of trusting me, Your Honor,” Luke said as he picked up the Remingtons and slid them into their holsters. He sheathed the knife as well, tucked away the derringer, and continued, “I just want to see justice done.”

He didn't add that finding out the location of all the loot Judd Tyler had hidden was riding on the outcome of this affair as well. Luke already had some ideas about that percolating in the back of his brain . . .

Keller opened the door and ushered Luke into the closet. Some boxes stacked on one side took up most of the space, but Luke still had enough room to squeeze in. The box on top of the stack was open. He saw books inside it and suspected the other boxes were filled with books as well.

Judge Keller was a man with a great love for the printed word, Luke thought, much like himself. Under different circumstances Luke would have enjoyed looking through the boxes and seeing what sort of volumes the judge owned.

“I'll leave the door open a crack,” Keller said. “That way you'll know what's going on.”

He turned away from the door as the swift patter of footsteps announced that Mrs. Keller had returned. She came into the study and whispered, “Clarence, it's Sheriff Axtell—”

Before Mrs. Keller could say anything else, a heavy footstep sounded and a man's voice said, “Sorry to bother you so late, Judge. I wouldn't have if I hadn't seen that your lamps are still burning.”

Luke used his left hand to take off his hat, then leaned forward enough to peer through the inch-wide gap Keller had left when he pushed the door up.

“What is it, Sheriff?” the judge asked. “Some trouble, I expect, or else you wouldn't be here at this hour.”

“I wanted to warn you. Judd Tyler has been spotted not far from town.”

Axtell moved forward as he spoke, enough that Luke could see him through the narrow opening. The sheriff was a middle-aged man, tall and burly like a bear, with thinning fair hair and a face that looked like it had been hacked out from a slab of pale gray stone. He held his hat in one hand as a show of respect for the judge, but a mocking glitter lurked in his piggish eyes.

Keller stood beside the desk and asked, “Why would you feel the need to warn me about this matter, Sheriff? Tyler is no threat to me.”

“He might be,” Axtell said. “He knows you're the only judge in these parts. Maybe he figures if he was to kill you, he couldn't be put on trial for killing the Montgomery girl.”

“I thought he was in custody.”

“He was . . . but it was some no-account bounty hunter who was bringing him up here from Wyoming. The fella could have decided to work with Tyler instead of turning him in. There's no tellin' what Tyler might have promised him.”

“That seems unlikely.”

Axtell's brawny shoulders rose and fell.

“You can't tell what a bounty hunter will do. Most of 'em are just one step from being outlaws themselves.”

Luke knew what Axtell was doing. The sheriff was laying the groundwork for killing both him and Tyler by establishing the suspicion that they were working together. That way Axtell and his deputies could gun them down with impunity. Adding that made-up threat to the judge just strengthened his case for killing Luke and Tyler.

For a long moment, Keller didn't say anything. Luke couldn't help but wonder what the judge was thinking. If Keller decided he didn't believe in Tyler's innocence after all, this would be a perfect opportunity for him to tell Axtell that Luke was right behind the door. That wouldn't land Tyler, but killing or capturing Luke would deprive Tyler of his only ally.

It would give Axtell a chance to put Luke out of the way, too. Knowing that, Luke wrapped the fingers of his right hand around an ivory-handled gun butt. He was ready to kick the door open and throw down on Axtell if he had to.

“Well, I'm not worried about Tyler or anyone who might be with him,” Judge Keller said in a firm voice. “They wouldn't dare harm me.”

“I sure hope you're right, Judge,” Axtell said. “My deputies and I will do our best to make sure those varmints don't get anywhere close to you.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Keller said, playing along like he believed Axtell's lies.

“I'm gonna put a couple of deputies on guard outside your house, just in case.”

“That's not necessary—”

“Better safe than sorry,” Axtell said. “Good night, Judge. Ma'am.”

“Good night, Sheriff,” Mrs. Keller said. Her voice was a little frosty, but Axtell either didn't notice or more likely didn't care what the judge's wife thought of him.

Luke listened to the heavy steps fade as the crooked lawman left the house.

The closet door swung open. Keller stood there with a worried frown on his face.

“I suppose you heard everything the sheriff had to say.”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “None of it was good, or true, either.”

“Except the part about putting deputies outside the house.” Keller stroked his chin. “That was true. He doesn't want Tyler reaching me, not out of any concern for my life, but because he's afraid of what Tyler might tell me. What you
already
told me, although Axtell doesn't know that.”

“Yeah, that's the way I figure it, too.”

Mrs. Keller said, “If no one else can get in, that means you can't get
out
, Mr. Jensen.”

“I'll have to find a way, not only out, but back in again with Tyler.”

“You'll be risking your life,” the judge told him.

“Won't be the first time,” Luke said.

Mrs. Keller turned to her husband and said, “Clarence, what about the cellar?”

The judge snapped his fingers and nodded.

“Of course. An excellent idea, my dear.” He turned to Luke. “Twenty years ago, when we built this house, the Indians still represented quite a threat, considerably more than they do today. So I decided it would be a good idea for us to have a means of escape if we were ever trapped here in the house. There's a tunnel that runs from the cellar out to the shed.”

“And that's where I left my horse,” Luke said. “If any of Axtell's deputies start prowling around, they'll find it and know something's up. I need to get out of here as quickly as I can before that happens.”

“I'll show you the tunnel,” Keller said, nodding. “I just hope it hasn't fallen in. I haven't checked on it for a long time. There's been no need. The savages haven't bothered us.” He grunted, then added, “Although I suppose savages will always be with us in one form or another. In this case most of them are wearing badges, or the veneer of wealth and power.”

* * *

The judge held up a lantern as he led Luke down a flight of wooden stairs into a cellar with earthen walls. A door in the kitchen opened onto the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Luke looked around and saw shelves where glass jars full of preserved vegetables sat.

“My wife enjoys having a garden and putting up food,” Keller said. “We don't eat most of it, but it gives her something to do. There's a bin over there full of potatoes, and another of corn. And there's the tunnel.”

It was a dark, cobweb-draped opening with no door, definitely uninviting as it loomed on the other side of the cellar. As Keller approached with the lantern, though, the light spread into the tunnel, which was shored up with beams much like a mine shaft. It wasn't very long, since it only had to reach the shed behind the house. Luke could see all the way to the other end and was relieved the tunnel seemed to be intact.

“I appreciate all your help, Your Honor,” he told Keller.

“If it clears the name of an innocent man and is responsible for the guilty party being brought to justice, the risk is well worth it. I'll stay here with the lantern, Mr. Jensen, so you can see where you're going.”

“Where does the tunnel come up in the shed?”

“There's a trapdoor in the tack room. It has some empty grain sacks thrown on top of it so the door isn't visible, but they won't be any trouble to move aside.”

“I'll bring Tyler back this way.”

“I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen,” Keller said. “With that Henry rifle, just in case someone else comes out of the tunnel.”

Luke shook hands with the older man, then brushed the cobwebs aside and stepped through the opening. He had never been fond of being underground, although it didn't bother him enough to keep him from going wherever he needed to go, as in this case. He strode quickly along the tunnel until he reached a ladder built into the wall.

The judge was right: it wasn't difficult to raise the trapdoor at the top of the ladder. The grain sacks concealed it but didn't weigh much. Luke climbed out and then lowered the trapdoor carefully enough it didn't make a sound as he closed it. He kicked the burlap sacks back over it.

The inside of the tack room was so dark he had to fumble around for a moment before he found the door and stepped out into the shed. Enough light from the moon and stars came in for him to see the stall to his right where the buggy horse stood swishing its tail. The judge's buggy was parked to Luke's left. The shed was open across the front.

Luke stood beside one of the beams holding up the roof and drew a revolver. The last thing he wanted right now was gunplay, but he would shoot his way out of here if he had to. He didn't know if Sheriff Axtell had already posted deputies around the judge's house or if the lawman was just getting to that now. Either way, there was no time to waste.

He listened intently for several seconds. Not hearing anything, Luke knew he had to risk moving. He stepped out and swung around to the side of the shed, quickly enough that he was only out in the open for a heartbeat before plunging back into shadow.

He heard a horse move around. This was where he had left the gray, and from the sound of it, the animal was still there. Luke eased along the wall until he saw the horse's dark bulk. The gray was calm, which meant no one had come poking around. At least, Luke hoped that was the case.

He holstered the Remington, found the reins where he had tied them to a small bush, and was about to step up into the saddle when a figure stepped around the corner of the shed. A man's suspicious voice said, “Hey, is somebody back here? Whoever's there, don't move, or I'll blow holes in you!”