Read Rocky Mountain Oasis Online

Authors: Lynnette Bonner

Tags: #historical romance, #Christian historical fiction, #General, #Romance, #Christian Fiction, #Christian romance, #Inspirational romance, #Clean Romance, #Fiction

Rocky Mountain Oasis (24 page)

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Oasis
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Leaning back in his chair, Sky stretched his legs out before him and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Brooke reflectively. She was lying to him, of that he was certain. But the
why
was another matter. With a good deal of surprise, he noted how much it hurt to have her lie to him. And she had done it so emphatically. People had lied to him before. It had happened often when he had been working on a case back home, but it had never bothered him this much before.
Does she care so little for me then? And why is she lying in the first place? What or who is she trying to protect by doing so?

He raised one fist to his mouth as he thought the matter over. The room buzzed with the soft conversations of mourners. An occasional tear-choked voice rose above the rest. The
clink
of silver on china reverberated throughout the room as the guests ate and somewhere a mother tried to hush a crying baby. But Sky tuned all that out.

He raked his scalp with his fingers. Brooke pretended to be deeply absorbed in the task of eating as if his questions had not bothered her in the least. Raising one hand, she tucked a stray curl of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear and gave the room a casual, almost bored look as she placed a forkful of green salad in her mouth. She concentrated solely on her food and looked everywhere in the room but at him, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He knew better. She had been undeniably frightened by something.
What?
And why was she trying to keep it from him? The questions were going to haunt him until he had some answers.

He was still pondering the matter when his attention was drawn elsewhere. The mountain man Brooke said she had seen in the alley on the night of the murder was just easing out the back door of the church and Sky needed to have a talk with him.

Jason had returned from Lewiston with no more information than when he had left. No one in the Lewiston area seemed to know who the mysterious mountain man was. He had asked at a number of places, giving the man’s description, and no one had any idea about the man’s identity, although a couple people remembered seeing him get on the stage the day that Brooke had left Lewiston.

Excusing himself, Sky made his way out of the church after the mountain man. The man’s long, gray hair blew in the breeze and he had just mounted an appaloosa and started to move away from the church when Sky came out into the yard.

Bending quickly, he examined the prints the man had made in the dust of the church yard. He frowned. These tracks differed from the ones that had been in the alley up in Pierce City. Could Brooke be wrong about the man’s identity?

Glancing again at the man, Sky noted with some surprise that he was older than he had first thought.

“Excuse me,” he called, and the bearded man pulled his horse to a stop, turning to see who had hailed him. “Could I ask you a couple of questions?”

The man looked him over as if judging his trustworthiness and then, as though he had come to a sudden decision, swung down from the saddle. “What can I do you for?”

Sky stretched out his hand. “Name’s Skyler Jordan. I live up Pierce City way.” He watched the man to see what his reaction would be to the mention of the town.

“Howdy, I’m Trace Johnson,” he said but exhibited no reaction. His face impassive, he stood quietly waiting for Sky to speak his mind.

Sky brought hands to hips. “You obviously know about the murder we had in town a couple of nights back since you are here at the funeral. Do you mind my asking, Trace, how did you know Fraser?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t know him ‘tall. I was here for another reason today.”

“And that would be...?”

Trace Johnson looked at him blandly.

Deciding to be direct, Sky went on, “The reason I’m asking is that someone told me she saw you in the alley between Jed’s boarding house and Fraser’s Mercantile on the night of the murder. Can you tell me why you were there?” Sky sensed what the answer would be even before Trace answered.

“Whoever she is, she’s lying to you, son.”

Sky stared at the outer wall of the church. Again, his insides twisted into a tight knot at the thought of her lying to him. He felt somehow betrayed. Not wanting to let on to this fact before Trace, however, he asked, “Can you prove that, Mr. Johnson?”

“Look, son.” Trace clapped a hand down on Sky’s shoulder.

Sky shook off his irritation with the term
son.

“I can tell you two things. Number one, I wasn’t in that alley on the night of the murder. And number two, someone else was, but I think you already knew that.” Trace Johnson laughed softly. “Now, son, in my business you can’t afford to go around announcing who you are and what you do, but I’ve read up on you.”

Sky started to say something, but Trace went on without missing a beat. “You and your cousin cracked a couple of tough cases over in Shilo, and I admire not only what you accomplished but the way you went about things.

From what I hear there were a number of times when you two had your man dead to rights in your gun sights, and out in the west here it’s sometimes tempting to just take justice into your own hands, so to speak, but I never heard tell o’ you two doing that. So I am going to be straight with you.” Trace ran a hand down his long beard as he asked his next question. “You ever heard of the Pinkerton Detective Agency?”

Sky nodded. “Sure. I worked with a couple of their detectives on a case over in Shilo one time.”

Trace smiled. “How did you think I knew so much about you?”

“So you’re a Pinkerton?”

He nodded.

“And, let me guess, you’ve been hired to find someone?”

“There was this family back east.” Trace seemed to change the subject. “A man and his wife and young, beautiful daughter. They had gone out for the evening and when they returned they found their house in the middle of being robbed. Even though he was wearing a mask and could not be recognized, and the family told him he was free to leave the premises, the burglar shot the father with no warning. When the mother and daughter tried to run, he grabbed the woman. Only the daughter escaped. The mother was found, also murdered, when the police arrived. The daughter said that the man laughed as he shot her father.”

Trace stared at his hands as he spoke, slapping the ends of the reins against one palm. “The daughter ran to her grandparents’ place. Her grandfather happens to be a senator back east, and he hired our agency to find the man who committed the crime. I’m following that man. We don’t know what this murderer looks like—just that he is small in stature. We do have a list of the jewels that he stole from the house. Now, you don’t see men out west wearing jewelry too often, do you?”

Trace looked pointedly into Sky’s face. “None o’ the pieces that were taken have been sold on the black market, far as we can find. But this man I’ve been trailing has a ring that looks an awful lot like a piece taken from the house back east. He says he bought it off a fella down California way, but I don’t believe him. He’s my man; I just don’t have enough evidence yet. He knows I’m on his trail, though, and they always make some sort of mistake when they feel the pressure of the chase breathing down their backs.”

“Can you tell me who this man is?”

“That I can’t do, son. It might put your life in jeopardy.”

“Do you think he might be involved in this murder up in Pierce City?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him—that murder back east was similarly cold-blooded—but I’m not here to figure that out. I’m here to find my man and take him in.”

“I found some footprints in the alley next to Fraser’s store on the morning after the murder. They were small. Does the man you’re tracking make small prints and have a short stride?”

Trace nodded.

“A crack in the heel of the right boot?”

Again a nod.

“Do you have any idea why your man might have wanted to kill Fraser?”

“No, not in the least. I can tell you he’s been in the area quite a bit in the last couple of days, though. I lost his trail there for a while, right about the time of the murder, so I don’t know for sure that he was in town on that night, but if I come across anything that might bring you all a conviction up in Pierce City, I will let you know.”

“Thank you, and I hope you find the evidence you’re looking for. If you’re ever up in our area again, feel free to stop by. A hot meal and a place to sleep in out of the cold always beats roughing it.” Sky stretched out his hand and the men shook.

“I’ll be sure to remember that. Thank you.”

Sky turned and headed back to the church as Trace mounted and rode out of the church yard.

Brooke worried as she watched Sky come back to their table. She had watched with apprehension as Sky followed the mountain man outside, knowing he was going out to question him. Surely now he knew that she had lied to him and would question her again about who she really saw in the alley that night.

But Sky didn’t say a word. He merely pulled out her chair and escorted her to the door, a somber look on his face.

14

Brooke couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so confused—so refreshed and so terrified all at once. To openly grieve had been therapeutic. First for her baby girl and then for her family at the funeral. Even so, the threats to Sky and herself constantly lingered in the back of her mind.

Were it not for that she would feel free. Almost.

Her memories had been healing ones. Before her time with Uncle Jackson life had not been so bad. Yes, Father had been abusive at times but usually only when he had indulged in too much drink. At least he had been predictable, although surly, when sober. Uncle Jackson, on the other hand, was never predictable.

The ride home with Sky and the other men on Monday was a solemn one. Two men from Lewiston accompanied them back to Pierce City to help with the ongoing murder investigation. Many more men had promised that they would follow on Tuesday to assist in any way they could.

They had ridden hard and arrived home late Monday night. As soon as feasible on Tuesday morning, Sky rode into town to continue the investigation and see if any new evidence came to light while he was in Lewiston.

Brooke barred the door as soon as Sky left home.

Percival could show up at any time.
With every creak and natural shudder of the house she tensed up and stared at the door in fear, expecting it to come crashing in, followed by the dangerous madman.

She knew she was being silly and that if she just stopped thinking about it so much she wouldn’t be so afraid, but she couldn’t keep her mind off his threats. Finally in desperation, she picked up Sky’s well-used Bible and began to read.

On Wednesday morning Sky left just as early and Brooke again rushed to get chores done so she could bar herself into the house and lose herself in the Bible stories.

That night Sky came home late in the evening and dropped into his chair at the table with a sigh. He made no comment about the fact that Brooke had to get up and unbar the door for the second night in a row so he could get into the house.

Removing his black Stetson, he tossed it on the table and leaned over, elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands. He sat this way for only a moment, then ran both hands back through his curly blond hair and raised his head. He looked toward Brooke with a tired smile.

Brooke moved to get his dinner, which she had kept warm on the back of the stove. As she set his plate in front of him with a steaming cup of black coffee she asked, “Bad day?”

Sky stared at his mashed potatoes and gravy absently. “No, not really. Just tiring, I guess. We have made eight arrests now.”

Brooke could tell by his tone that something still bothered him. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Sky sighed again, running a hand back through his hair. “It is good. But it could be bad, too. I’m just not sure that the men are going about the investigation the right way.”

Brooke sat down across from him with a mug of coffee cupped in her hands. “How is that?”

Sky shook his head, his food still untouched. “I just...” He shook his head again and turned to stare at the percolating coffee pot, its lid gently bumping with a metallic clatter. “The only motive that they’ve even considered is that Lee Chang had this done to Fraser because of a disagreement he and Fraser had a couple of months back.” Sky told Brooke the story of the bogus gold.

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