Rocky Mountain Oasis (20 page)

Brooke paid no heed to his order. She had to escape! She thrashed her arms and kicked her legs, aiming her heel into his shins. He tightened his grip, but she fought harder.

Then something pricked her throat, and she froze, heart thudding erratically.

“That’s better. Now don’t scream, little lady, or it will be the last sound you ever make. One twist of your slender neck like this,” he twisted her head slowly in demonstration, “and you won’t be around to see tonight’s sunset. Do you understand?” His voice was deadly calm.

Brooke nodded vigorously. Her breath came in ragged gasps.

“See that rifle over there?”

Her head moved in acknowledgment against his chest.

“If you call for Jordan, I will shoot him down before he is even halfway here, see?”

All hope died. She nodded again.

“Good. Now I am goin’ to move my hand, and you and I will have a little talk. You do just as I say and then you won’t have to be afraid for your life or the lives of your loved ones, see?” Again she nodded, and he removed his hand and went to the table.

“Bring me some coffee,” he said abruptly as he pulled out a chair and sat down, his back to her.

With shaking hand, Brooke set a cup before him, wanting very badly to scream for Sky but eyeing the rifle. He would be able to get to it before Sky even made it half the distance from the Mercantile, and she had no doubt that he would shoot to kill.

Then another idea entered her head. She stepped back, trying to keep her voice steady as she asked, “What do you want with me?” She took a step toward the gun.

He took a noisy slurp of the scalding brew and laughed sardonically. “I think you know.”

Brooke took another step. “No, actually...” She glanced at him. His back was still to her as he sat at the table. She licked her dry lips.
Just one more little step
. She reached for the rifle, her fingertips just grazing the action.

He spun and threw his cup at the wall, missing her head by a fraction of an inch. He bounded from the chair, knocking it over in his haste, and snatched the gun from her grasp.

Jumping back, Brooke almost screamed, but caught herself just in time. The only sound that came from her mouth was a pitiful whimper.

Grabbing her by the upper arm, he shook her, making her head snap back and forth like a rag doll. “Now you listen good,” he growled. “You never saw me last night, do you understand? If you so much as breathe a word of my being in town last night to anyone, I will hunt you down. First I’ll make you watch me kill that husband of yours ever so slowly, and then it will be your turn.”

His grip on her upper arm tightened, and he gave her one more shake. “Get a hold of yourself and listen! Your life depends on it. Here is what you will tell him: that you saw someone in that alley, but it’s not goin’ to be me. You tell him you saw the Mountain Man. You remember him? The one that rode on the stage with us from Lewiston? That’s who you saw in the alley. Understand? Don’t doublecross me now ‘cause I have ears everywhere, and I will find out about it.”

They heard noises from outside in the street, and he grabbed her face with one of his hands. “I swear I will kill you if you breathe a word of this to anyone!” And with that Percival Hunter moved down the hallway toward the back door of the boarding house.

Brooke righted the chair and collapsed into it. Smoothing her hands over her skirt, she willed away the trembling that coursed through every limb. She had to calm down, or Sky would know something was wrong the minute he saw her. She pulled in a long draw of air and released it through pursed lips. Then again.

She could do this. She had to do this. Lives depended on it.

Back inside the Mercantile Jason once again examined the scene before him—this time with a little more calm but with no less shock. His heart thudded, heavy with dread.

Just inside the door, Fraser lay in a thick red pool of blood, his eyes wide open, lifelessly staring at the ceiling. A trail of blood led from Fraser’s bedroom at the back of the store, to where he now lay. Blood splattered everything. A bloody ax lay just beyond the body, a hatchet nearer the door. The poor man’s body was mutilated. He had deep cuts and hash marks all over him. The side of his neck was a gaping hole. The killing blow had come in the form of a gunshot. By the angle of the exit wound, Jason surmised that the gun had been placed in the man’s mouth. Probably by that time he had been too weak to resist.

Still in disbelief, he turned to a barrel of picks next to Fraser’s body.

Blood smeared some of them, as though Fraser had been trying to grab one to defend himself.

Rubbing a hand over his face he turned his eyes to the ceiling for a moment.
Unbelievable.
This couldn’t have happened! Not here. Not this.

The room was deathly quiet as the men stared in shock at the scene before them. Even Jed, who was usually so talkative, was strangely silent. Looking at him, Jason was surprised to see tears streaming down the old man’s face. Jed had not moved from his place by the door, just stood staring down at the body of his friend in disbelief and incredulity.

Sky was the first one to recover his presence of mind. Bending over, he laid his fingers across the staring eyes, pushing them closed. “The body’s still warm,” he noted out loud. “He can’t have been dead for long.”

Sky moved purposefully about the room, willing himself to remain calm, his eyes taking in every detail. Being careful not to step in the path of blood, where he could see bare footprints, he followed the coagulating trail back to Fraser’s bedroom. Pushing aside the colorful cascade of beaded strings—the divider that separated Fraser’s room from the Mercantile—he noted that the trail started on the rumpled bed, where a large dark red stain could be seen.

Turning, Sky let his eyes range over the room, taking in the door and windows, trying to figure out how the murderer had gotten into the room. He knew Fraser had always meticulously locked up his store at night. His eyes paused. The latch on one of the front windows was open. “Jason, was the door unlocked when you came in?”

“Yeah, I just walked right in.”

“Jed, you had better go get Gaffney and Carle,” Sky said, referring to two of the other miners in town that he knew could be trusted. “Tell Bill we are going to need three of his fastest horses.

“Jason, I know you didn’t get much sleep last night. Do you think you could ride back to Lewiston? There aren’t enough of us in town to conduct a thorough investigation. We are going to need a posse.”

Jed left to do Sky’s bidding as Jason answered, “Yeah sure, I can do that.”

“Fine, we’ll put together as many of the pieces as we can and then you can ride out this afternoon. Check the ledger, will you? What was the last entry Fraser made?”

Jason walked over behind the counter and picked up Fraser’s receipt book. He grimaced and swiped his fingers across his pants.

Sky’s stomach clenched. There must have been blood on the cover. He still couldn’t believe this was happening.

Jason ran his finger down the page. “A string-tie for seventy-five cents.”

“So someone was in after Brooke and I left,” Sky muttered to himself as he crossed the room to get a better look at the front window latch. When he saw that the window latch was indeed open, he stopped and scanned the room once again. Sky turned toward Jason. “Fraser always locked everything up, didn’t he?”

Jason nodded.

“How long have you worked for Fraser now?”

“Six years, almost seven.”

“You ever know anyone who thought he had reason to kill him?”

“There was that incident with Chang. The one he told you about.” Jason shook his head. “Other than that, Fraser was just about the most-liked man in these parts. I never knew him to cheat anyone. In fact, just the opposite. He would go out of his way to make sure he treated people more than fair.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing about Chang. I think we should pay the man a visit.”

Jason glanced down at the body on the floor. “Yeah, we should find out precisely where Lee Chang was last night.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Jed returned with Gaffney and Carle, both of whom began to swear in anger when they saw the murdered man. Bill Currey, the old livery owner, came in behind them, cursed, and then began to shake so badly that Sky helped him down onto a small wooden cask for fear his legs would go out from under him.

“Jason—” the old man reached a trembling hand in the direction of Fraser’s counter—“bring me some of Fraser’s special brew. I need me a drink.” He rubbed his face, as if to erase the sight on the floor from his mind.

But when Jason moved to comply, Sky said, “Bill, I’m sorry, but during the course of this investigation there will be no drinking. We are all going to need clear heads in order to figure out the truth.” He turned serious eyes on all of the men in the room, making sure they understood the importance of this order. His eyes were compassionate, though, as he turned back to the quavering drunk. Everyone in town knew that ol’ Bill Currey was very fond of his liquor. He was always on the step of Roo’s Saloon even before it opened, waiting for his first drink of the day.

Sky said, “I’ll take you over to Jed’s for a good strong cup of coffee in a minute, Bill.” Then, turning to the other men, he began to assign tasks. “Gaffney, you go outside and check around for any footprints around the store. This fresh snow is not going to help us any but make sure any prints are not disturbed until I can see them, if you find any. I need to go see Brooke. I don’t want her walking in on this.

“Carle, I want you to take your horse and search further out. I don’t know what we are looking for, so take note of
anything
that looks unusual.

“Jason, you should go around the store and see if you notice anything that’s missing or out of place. I noticed there is a safe in Fraser’s room, but it didn’t look tampered with. Do you know if he keeps money anywhere else?” Jason shrugged. “As far as I know, he keeps all his money in the safe.”

Then he amended somberly, “Kept. Kept his money in the safe.”

Sorrow suddenly threatened to overwhelm Sky and he looked at the floor for a moment to get his emotions under control. Anguish washed over him. He was too good a man to have something like this happen to him. He glanced at the body again.
No one
should have something like this happen to them.

Realizing the men were staring at him, he turned to Jason. “All right. Just see if you notice anything unusual. Jed, I’ll take Bill over to your place, let Brooke know what’s going on, and then you and I can move him.” He nodded to Fraser.

“I’ll come with you. I got an extry blanket in my room to home.”

Sky led Bill over to the boarding house and pushed through the front door.

Brooke jumped and spun toward them, her hand going to her throat. He frowned. “You all right?”

She nodded, smoothing her hands over her skirt, a question in her eyes. Something didn’t seem right. But he was probably misjudging the situation due to his own roiling emotions. “I have some bad news.”

“Oh?” Her voice was breathy.

“David Fraser has been killed.”

She closed her eyes and groped for a chair behind her, sinking into it slowly.

Sky helped Bill to a seat at the table, but his attention remained fixed on Brooke as he placed a cup of black coffee before the man.

She pressed her lips together and fiddled with her fingers, studying them intensely. This was hitting her hard.

He stopped in front of her. “Brooke? I need to get back to the Mercantile. Can you keep Bill here company for a bit?”

She glanced at Bill and nodded, her gaze returning to meet his.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He touched her cheek, then turned toward the door.

“Sky?”

He looked back at her.

“I saw a man in the alley last night.” She pinched her lips together.

He blinked. “You did? Did you recognize him?”

She nodded. Looked into her lap for a moment, then back up at him. “It was the mountain man. The one who rode the stage with me from Lewiston. You remember him?”

He searched his memory. “Vaguely. You’re sure it was him?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I’m glad you told me. I need to get back. Stay inside, okay?”

She nodded.

Sky stepped out onto the porch and rubbed one hand back over his head. A man in the alley the night before couldn’t have been up to any good. He wished she had awakened him so he could have seen the man too. Was he involved in the murder? If so how? Had he done the killing, or had he hired someone else to do it? There were too many questions and not one answer.