WWIV - Basin of Secrets (31 page)

Laughing, Betsi opened the door and discovered Howard standing in the doorway. Without looking away, she called back to Willem. “Your troll is here. Don’t let him waste too much of your time. I need you fresh tonight.”

Howard faked a toothless smile as Betsi skipped through the hallway. Stepping into the room, he shook his head at Willem. “Ain’t she all sweet tonight?”

Willem sat, his happiness unmoved by Howard’s comment. “Something up? I was just about to retire for the evening. Big night for me, you understand.”

Howard looked away. “Gonna have to put a hold on that, boss. We got a problem down at the jail, Andy says.”

Dropping his head to his hands, Willem screamed. “That boy is the largest pain in my ass, I swear! Can’t he take care of anything himself?”
 

“Come on,” Howard urged. “Shouldn’t take but a few minutes. Then you and Betsi Lou can get all kinky with one another.”

Rising from his chair, Willem grinned. “Howard, you must have read my thoughts for the night.”

Sauntering slowly across the courtyard between the Temple and the makeshift jail, Willem and Howard enjoyed the temperate fall night. Willem smiled as he inhaled the clean, crisp air. Happy was an understatement he’d use to describe his mood. Elated, overjoyed, perhaps euphoric. He almost felt like skipping, if it wouldn’t have given the guards a lesser opinion of their leader.

“What do you think, Howard?” he asked as they neared the jail.

“Think about what?”

Willem stopped, facing his friend of more than 25 years. “How did the day go, in your opinion?”

Howard shrugged, wiping the last of dinner from his beige shirt. “Went fine. We rode up there to get Betsi, we came back with Betsi. No one got hurt.” He stopped and frowned. “Well, three of our people got killed under Landry’s watch. But all in all, it went off without a hitch.”

Poking at his friend’s chest, Willem winked. “See, that’s what I mean. Each day is getting better here. What’s it been, a week? Look at how things just keep falling into place.”

“Just hope we’re done killing for a while. I think we’ve shed enough blood, maybe more than we needed to.” Howard waved his head at the jail. “Come on, let’s get this over with so you can get back to the wife.”

Willem slapped Howard’s back, following him through the glass doors. “You know, that could have got messy up in the mountains. If Steven Wake hadn’t presented himself, well, I hate to think what might have happened.” Grabbing Howard’s shoulder, he stopped him again. “Can you believe that? Steven Wake, mountain man?”

Howard shrugged and stepped past the front guard with Willem on his heels.

“I never expected to find him there, gentleman farmer and all. I couldn’t have been more surprised if the Prophet Smith and Brigham Young themselves had stepped out of the gate. Steven Wake; once powerful, once wealthy. Now, just part of the fallen flock. Barely scratching out a life up there. At least he has a cute wife.”

Howard stopped abruptly and turned, jabbing his right index finger at his boss. “She was trouble, and you knew it. Steven was one thing, but the way her people stood behind her, and how she never gave an inch. She could have been a real problem.”

Agreeing, Willem let his eyes absorb a new building, one he had not ventured into just yet. “Even after I busted her as an adulteress, did you see her defiance? The way she ignored us as we prepared to leave? She wasn’t frightened. I saw many timid faces behind her, even Steven wasn’t overly assertive. But she was something else.”

Turning right, the pair skipped down a set of marble steps. At the bottom, they turned left and continued down the long, dark hall. “A little more light would be nice,” Willem offered.

Finally, they turned right one last time and met Andy in the corridor. Somberly, he looked past Howard at his cousin. “We might have a problem,” Andy started. “We got a guy here from Camp Nine that claims to have intel, something maybe we can use. But the little prick won’t talk to me. Only wants the boss.”

“I really don’t want to interrogate a prisoner tonight, Andy,” Willem snorted. “Just beat it out of him and let me know in the morning. Perhaps we should move the hangings up to noon. Get it over with earlier that way.”

Howard turned toward Willem. “I thought you said trial at one and then hangings, if needed, later.”

Rolling his eyes, Willem sucked a deep breath in through his yellowed teeth. “They don’t need a trial, Howard. We just need to hang them and be done with this chapter. We say they’re spies, they’re spies. Case closed.”

Andy shoved between the pair. “I get to run the show tomorrow, right? I get to do the hanging?”

Pushing his cousin aside, Willem moved toward the cells. “All in good time, cousin. All in good time. I suppose I should give the poor sap his two minutes of begging, since I walked all the way over here. Which one am I here to see?”

Andy pointed down the dark corridor. “Third door down. There’s a candle burning in there already. You need a lantern, too?”
 

Willem patted Andy’s shoulder once. “No, I’ll make do. Just give me and Howard two minutes alone with him. Then come get us. I doubt he has anything too interesting to share. Probably just wants to beg for his life.”

Howard pushed open the metal door to a room that once must have been a supply closet. Near the back of the room, dimly lit by a single candle near the front, a lone figure sat on the floor. Howard pushed a chair into the small space for Willem to sit upon. Unsure of whether to sit or stand, Willem finally decided the day had been long and tiring enough, so he sat.

“So,” Willem began, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, “you wanted to see me?”

“I asked for the boss. That you?” the young man responded.

“That I am, lad. That I am.”

“Who’s the other guy? Can he be trusted?” the hidden voice asked.

Howard stepped back into the hall. “I’ll go talk to Andy. He said he had something to speak about. You need a lantern, Will?”

Willem shook his head, forgetting Howard wouldn’t see his motion. “No need, Howard.”

The door closed, and Willem focused more closely on the person further inside the short, narrow place. “So, what can I do for you?” he asked, yawning.

“I want to make a trade,” the voice requested. “I’ll give info and you let us seven go. Deal?”

Leaning back in the stiff metal office chair, Willem grinned. “I doubt you have anything that worthy to trade. But I’m in a good mood, so try me.”

The figure shifted, turning head-on to Willem. “I know who killed Henry and Virgil Tarlisch. I can give you his name in exchange for freedom.”

Willem snickered. “You’re wasting my time. Talbot Bond killed them. Everyone knows that. Even stupid mountain people like you.”

Willem heard the man scoot forward, nearer to his chair. “That ain’t what I was told. I heard a different name. From a man on his deathbed.”

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Willem leaned toward the man. “Oh, you fool. The deathbed confession of a sick and confused man is of no use to me. Especially if the man was Talbot Bond himself. He’d say anything to lay the guilt elsewhere at that point.”

Closer he moved, causing Willem to lean back. “He told me his own son did it, Henry Tarlisch’s son. Willem Tarlisch is the killer, not Talbot Bond.”

Rising quickly from his chair, Willem snorted. “Did he tell you why I killed my father and brother?”

“Some sort of argument was all he said.”

“Well,” Willem whispered, moving closer to him than the door. “Since you’ll be dead tomorrow, let me enlighten you. My father and my brother were asked to consider giving up our family’s land. For the good of the Salt Lake Basin, they were told. Nothing in exchange; it was just to be a goodwill gesture. Basically turning us into slaves to Erickson and the council. Father was against it, but soft-hearted Virgil wanted him to reconsider. Father felt since it was Virgil’s birthright, he should have a say. A say in giving away our land, land that had been in the Tarlisch name for more than 100 years.

“I told them both no. But that idiot Virgil, he just wouldn’t let up. After 10 minutes, maybe a little more, Father decided to go with Virgil. I saw my life slipping through my fingers. Everything I had worked for, Father had worked for, generations had toiled over, was about to be gone. So I grabbed a rifle leaning against the wagon and fired the first round of the war, striking Henry Tarlisch square in the middle of his back. Then I fired the second shot, and Virgil was dead. A lot of shooting went on after that, but none of it mattered. They took our land, and I spent six years planning on how exactly I would take it back. And now I’ve won.” Willem sighed.

After a moment’s silence, the voice in the dark spoke again. “That’s about the way Talbot Bond told it, just before he died. Said if I asked, you’d be too proud to deny it. Guess he was right.”

Willem stood and reached for the door handle. “Make sure you tell Bond he was right when he greets you in the afterlife tomorrow. Nice to get that off my chest actually.”

“So you’ll let me go ‘cause I know, and I promise not to tell no one, right?”

“Actually,” Willem pondered aloud, “I’ll hang you because you know. Take that one to the grave, boy.” A long silence followed. Willem felt a twist in his stomach, like something was about to happen. “No clever reply?”

The voice laughed. He actually laughed at Willem’s words. “He didn’t just tell me. He told my poppa too. So, I guess him and me know.”
 

Willem sat again. “And let me guess, dear old dad isn’t one of the seven in here, is he?”

“Nope.”

Options flew through Willem’s mind. Weighing every choice carefully, he snapped his fingers. “I don’t care. You still hang. Your father can spread whatever rumor he wants. I’ll have it dismissed as sour grapes. A father’s grief creates an unbelievable story.”

Another long, uncomfortable silence followed. When the dark figure rose, Willem stepped back. “I never said he was my father, Mr. Tarlisch. I said he was my poppa.”

Frowning, Willem’s eyes shifted between the door handle and the feet of the stranger. “Howard,” he called. With no response, he let loose a scream, “Howard!”

The door ripped open and Howard rushed into the room. “What?”

“Get me a lantern, now,” Willem demanded.

Turning back to the faceless figure, he seethed with anger. “Something tells me I’m not going to like what the light will illuminate, will I?”

Only a small chuckle answered his question.

Howard brought the light and handed it to his friend. Willem shoved the beacon into the opening, and the unknown figure covered his face, the light too bright for his eyes. Willem glared at the face as the arm slowly slid away, revealing its features.

“Damn it,” Willem snapped. ”Damn it all to hell!”

Howard looked past Willem at the young man in the rear of the room. “What’s the problem, Will?”

“You don’t see it, do you?” Tarlisch scolded.

Howard studied the face closer, finally answering no.

“The red hair, the pale skin, those damned green eyes.”

Howard’s eyes shot wide. “No,” he wailed. “Damn it, Will, what’s he doing here?”

Handing the lantern to Howard, he reached for the young man. “Of all the people Andy should have checked out, of all the reconnaissance he should have done, this one was important. Instead of bringing us seven stupid woodsmen, he brought us hell. How wonderful. How proud he must be right now.”

“We got to get rid of him,” Howard demanded. “We gotta send him back.”

“He knows everything. He knows our secret, he knows his mother’s secret, and so does his
poppa
.”

Confused, Howard peeked back at Willem. “Who?”

“His grandfather, Steven,” Willem cried. “Of all the people, we took him. What’s your name, boy?”

“Joshua, sir. Joshua Wake.”

Willem paced, contemplating the dilemma set before him. He knew someone had to hang; his troops needed this victory. Someone had to pay for the years spent in their desert prison. Just retrieving Betsi would never be enough to compensate his army for their loyalty. If blood wasn’t spilled, and soon, the next person his group would come for just might be himself.

Killing this boy, Willem knew, was unfathomable. Steven Wake was far too loved. His grandson’s death would be the battle cry that began a war that the Red Rangers could not win. Worst of all was the boy’s mother. Just when he believed her to be broken past the point of return, she rose like a phoenix, showing Willem her true resolve. Unbending, unbreakable, immortal. Even if Steven chose to sit this one out, Cara Wake would be the death of Willem and all who stood with him.

Covering his face, Willem collapsed back onto the chair, laughing. “We hang him, this is all over in six weeks. We’ll be swinging from trees in the courtyard. I can just see that fiery redhead, mounted on a white horse with 10,000 followers coming for our heads.” Willem looked back at Howard, both men’s faces tense. “We let him go, perhaps he and grandpa can keep their yaps shut.”

Joshua smirked at the pair. “I told ya, I’m trading info for seven lives. A Wake can keep a secret better than anyone can.”

“Howard, we have dozens of poor dirty souls down in the south jail. Send word over there to have seven of them transferred here, tonight yet. Then I want you to take Joshua and his pals here, and shove them in the back of a wagon. Have Landry, and Andy, and Andy’s pet monster take them up into the hills a ways. Then turn them loose.” Finishing, Willem shook his head at Howard. “What’s this world coming to when secrets aren’t safe anymore? What’s a poor man to do?”

Howard turned to leave when Willem jumped from his spot and grabbed at his arm. “I need to talk to Landry, Freddy too. Send them over here while you send Andy to fetch the seven from the south, okay?”

Howard nodded. “Got it. We need to get this over with. Andy’s already asking questions out there, like if we know where Bond is. If we just ran into the mountains for Betsi. Stuff like that.”

“I figured as much,” Willem replied. “We’ll take care of this and get it all cleaned up. We’ll have our hangings, and Cara Wake can have her woodsmen she so bravely begged for.” Pushing Howard down the hall, he called out again. “Make haste, Howard. Time is ticking.”