The Intruders Page 16

  “Probably got that with the rest of his mail or found it someplace.”

  She waited for him to say something more, but saw the sheriff sit upright in the saddle. “Or maybe things are a lot simpler than that. Maybe he had it printed himself.”

  Emily quickly followed his line of thinking and did not like where it led. “You think Mr. Hagen could be behind all of the trouble Mike Albertson is stirring up?”

  She could tell the idea was as new to Buck as it was to her and he was still piecing it together in his mind. She knew he had a habit of speaking before thinking sometimes, but not in a way that caused trouble to himself or insult to others. He only did it among people he genuinely trusted, and she was always honored when he did it around her. She liked to see the way his mind pieced things together. She liked it when he surprised himself by showing he was smarter than he thought.

  “Charles Hagen backing Albertson would answer a lot of questions,” Trammel said. “I never bought his retired-freighter-turned-crusader bit. He just rode in here one day and started raising hell the next. It didn’t ring true to me. It feels like somebody’s backing him, and King Hagen’s as good a choice as any. It’s certainly not Adam.”

  Emily had not thought about it that way. “Albertson did seem to drop from the sky one day, didn’t he?”

  If Trammel had heard her, he did not show it. His mind was on the scent of something and she watched him follow it as he rode. “He’s renting a room from Mrs. Higgins but doesn’t seem to spend a lot of time there.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  Trammel looked guilty, and she knew he had been up to no good. “I kind of talked my way into his room. The place looked like no one even lived there at all. There wasn’t anything in the room that showed he spent a lot of time there. Not even a bag to pack his stuff in. I know freighters are used to traveling light, but there should’ve been something personal about the place. The room looked like it had never been touched. Found a lot of newspapers from Laramie, though. And not the Laramie Daily either. I only found the Laramie Ledger, which you can’t find in Blackstone.”

  “That is strange,” Emily agreed. “If he’s so dedicated to changing the town, why not live here full-time? And why does he spend so much time in Laramie?”

  “All good questions,” Trammel said. “And I think I had the answer until I lost it.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I found a notebook tucked under Albertson’s mattress,” Trammel admitted. “A real notebook, too, not like the one Hagen lied about. I hid it in the back of my pants when Mrs. Higgins came up the stairs but lost it at some point last night. I think it fell out when I ducked to avoid Ben shooting at me, but I’m not certain.”

  Emily was disappointed, but she understood why it happened. “Did you go back and check later?”

  “Yeah.” Trammel frowned. “I had forgotten all about it until I got back to the jail. I went outside and looked all over for it, but it was too dark. It could’ve happened anywhere, I guess. I don’t care that it’s lost, but I’m worried about the wrong person finding it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If some stranger finds it and throws it away, or uses it for themselves, great,” Trammel explained. “But if they give it to the wrong person, like Adam, it might cause trouble. I didn’t have the chance to read it, so I don’t know what it says. Either way, Albertson is going to come looking for it when he finds it’s missing, and Mrs. Higgins will tell him I searched his room. I knew that would happen when I took the book. I was just hoping to be able to confront him with what was in the book when he did.”

  Emily was glad to be able to provide a solution. “I’ll look for it for you. Today, when we get back to town. It would look silly for the sheriff to be looking around for something like that in broad daylight. Might tip off too many people and raise more questions than answers. If I do it, it’ll be much easier. I’ll probably get a few kindly gentlemen to help me look for it, too. I’ll start at the spot where you fell when Ben shot at you and work my way around there. I’ll even check at Dr. Moore’s office. Even if you lost it there, he might not have read it or given it to Adam.”

  Trammel smiled at her. “You’re quite resourceful, Dr. Downs.”

  She smiled, too. “I have my moments.”

  As they approached the Stone Gate, Trammel reined in his horse and allowed Emily’s wagon to ride through first. She thought about the men Buck had taken on alone at that dreaded place only a few months before. The bravery he had shown and the wounds he had suffered. He had fully recovered since then, thank goodness, but their love had not. The Battle of Stone Gate, as Mr. Rhoades had taken to calling it in the Bugle, had shown the world who Buck Trammel really was. And it had shown her that she loved him too much to be able to endure losing him. She’d had to let him go or risk losing herself again in grief.

  She was almost thirty-five years old and still found the complexities of life fascinating.

  Emily looked back and saw Buck had ridden through the break in the stone wall to catch up with her. “I think they should have the decency to put a sign or something up there to commemorate what happened. You deserve it.”

  But Trammel clearly did not agree. “Rhoades made it out to be a hell of a lot more than it really was. Just a dustup between a sheriff and a couple of hired guns, is all. I’m just glad the right people died. Sorry you got caught up in it in town. Sorry about a lot of things that happened that day. And afterward.”

  They had reached the part of the road that revealed the town of Blackstone in its entirety. It had changed so much since she and her husband had first found it years before. It had been a miner’s bank, a general store, and a couple of rundown hotels back then. It had since grown a bit to accommodate more people and more services, like lawyers and other shops for the miners and ranchers to frequent. Now, with Adam Hagen’s influence, New Main Street had served to almost double the length of the main thoroughfare of the tiny town, and the new buildings, despite their purpose, made the town look more modern. More finished. She hoped the houses Adam was building would attract good people to this good place and make Blackstone an even better town than it already was.

  She also hoped that the conflict between Buck and Adam would find a way to resolve itself. She hoped each man would give enough to cast their differences aside and resume their friendship. Each man was formidable in his own right, but together, they could help make Blackstone the kind of town she had always dreamed it could be.

  But while she remained hopeful, she was not naïve and doubted that either man would budge an inch from their position. Adam wanted enough money and power to fight King Charles, and laudanum was the way to get it.

  Buck wanted law and order in Blackstone, and one of the best ways to get it was to cut down on the laudanum Adam and his Celestials sold.

  Agreeable men would find a way to sort out their differences. To compromise. But Adam and Buck were not the compromising sort. Agreeable men did not survive long in the Wyoming Territory.

  She decided to try to pull Buck out of his own thoughts by talking about something cheerful as they rode together back to town. “You have to admit the town looks awfully pretty from up here.”

  “Enjoy it while it lasts,” Trammel said. “Adam wants to build a mill off Main Street. Those new houses he’s building are supposed to be for all the workers he plans on hiring.”

  “I’ve heard that. Sounds like a nice way to bring some new people to town.”

  “Bet they won’t be allowed in his laudanum den,” Trammel said. “He’s weakened the town enough with that poison to take it over. He’ll probably make them pack up and move up into the hills to serve the miners.”

  Emily had not thought of that. “I bet you’re right. It’s almost ingenious.”

  “That’s Adam for you,” Trammel said. “If he’d just put that big head of his to doing some good, why, I bet he could be—”

  Both of them turned when th
ey heard a single gunshot ring out from the edge of town. It was quickly followed by a woman’s shriek. They were close enough to Main Street by then to be able to tell where it had come from.

  “That sounds like it came from the bank,” Emily said.

  “Great,” Trammel said as he pulled his Henry from the scabbard on his saddle. “Just what we need. A bank robbery on top of everything else. Ride in slow, Emily, and keep a sharp eye out. I don’t want you riding into the middle of anything.”

  He put his heels to his horse and galloped down the road toward the sound of the gunfire and scream.

  Because that was who Buck Trammel was. It was the reason why she loved him and could never be with him.

  She offered up a silent prayer as she watched him ride into danger.

  CHAPTER 21

  Trammel rounded the corner past Elias’s livery at the edge of Main Street. Elias was out front, looking in the direction of the bank, his old Henry rifle in his hands.

  “Shot came from the bank,” the old black man yelled up at him as he passed. “Don’t think it’s a robbery, though. Didn’t see anyone running out.”

  Trammel was thankful for that little bit of information as he sped by. He saw a small group of people crouching on the boardwalk on either side of the bank. They were too curious to run away, but too scared to get any closer.

  The doorway of every saloon on Main Street was jammed with people looking out, but no one dared to venture outside. Not yet anyway. He knew a fair number of them were armed, and if the bank was being robbed, they stood to lose their life savings. The robbers would have more holes in them than a screen door if they stepped outside now.

  Trammel was not surprised to see Adam Hagen had taken cover behind a horse trough directly across the thoroughfare from the bank. His pistol was in his left hand. Adam was a lot of things, but he was not a coward. Trammel had never known the man to shy away from the action if there was action to be had.

  Trammel brought his horse up shy of the bank and yelled at Hagen, “You see what happened?”

  “Just heard the shot and the woman’s scream,” Hagen yelled back. “No one’s come out or gone in since. If it’s a robbery, it’s not going well.”

  Trammel did not take that as a good sign. If no one had come out, someone might be holding them in there against their will.

  He climbed down from the saddle and began to slowly approach the bank from the side, eyeing the door the entire time. The horse ambled back toward the livery where it lived.

  “Hello in the bank!” he called out. “This is Sheriff Trammel. Come out with your hands up and empty. You will not be harmed.”

  A bald clerk Trammel recognized as Barney Kroft came out of the bank with his hands raised. “Sheriff! Come quick. There’s been a terrible accident. Mr. Montague is dead!”

  Trammel ran into the bank.

  Adam Hagen was close on his heels.

  * * *

  Trammel had to dodge his way around the cluster of weeping tellers and customers who had already gone into the office to see Montague for themselves.

  When he reached Montague’s office, he saw the reason for their tears.

  At first, the bank president and lawyer looked like he had simply fallen asleep at his desk. His head was back and his mouth hung open, slack. But the blood that soaked the front of his shirt from the bullet hole under his chin and the pistol in his right hand on the desk told a different story. The bullet hole in the ceiling and the gore behind him said it all.

  Fred Montague had committed suicide.

  Trammel sagged against the door. On top of everything else facing Blackstone right now, the head of the bank had just killed himself. “Damn.”

  Adam Hagen wheeled into the office after him and took a step back from the terrible sight. “Good God. Fred.”

  Hagen began to move farther into the office, but Trammel grabbed his arm. “Outside, Adam. Let me take a look at the place first.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Hagen said. “Half the bank has already walked through the place. I was just going to look to see if he left a note, is all.”

  “That’s my business, not yours,” Trammel said. “It’s best for all involved if I do the searching.”

  Hagen threw up his hands and remained standing against the doorway while Trammel began searching the desk for some kind of note. The desk was full of papers, so it was no easy task. He gently lifted the dead man’s right hand, careful of the pistol it still held, and removed the papers beneath it. They were notes and telegrams and bank statements. The numbers meant nothing to him, but there was nothing in the papers to indicate why Fred Montague had chosen that moment to take his life.

  Trammel noticed Adam was paying close attention to him as he began to open the desk drawers. He would go through all of it in detail later, but there was no obvious suicide note in any of them.

  He went to the large safe at the side of the room and checked it, but it was locked. So was the back door that led to the alley outside. The key was still in the lock, and the only odd thing about it was that it looked new.

  “That’s strange,” Trammel said. “The lock’s been changed recently.”

  “Oh?” Hagen said. “How do you know?”

  Trammel noted the scrapes around the wood where it had been fitted. “It just looks new. And those scrapes are fresh. Wonder why he did that.”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” Hagen offered.

  Trammel looked at him. “I wasn’t asking you.” A nasty thought crept into the sheriff’s mind. “Or should I be asking you?”

  Hagen closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus, Buck. You can’t possibly think I had anything to do with this. Why, a blind man could see he killed himself. What reason would I have for wanting old Fred dead?”

  “Because he worked for the ranch,” Trammel said. “Maybe it’s retaliation for what Bookman tried to do last night?”

  Hagen crossed his arms over his chest. “I swear. Satan doesn’t get as much blame for things as I do.”

  “Satan’s not as cunning as you,” Trammel answered. The more he thought of it, the more he became sure that Montague’s suicide the morning after the attempt on Hagen’s laudanum den was too much of a coincidence. “Why would Montague pick today to kill himself?”

  “You’re the sheriff!” Hagen exclaimed. “How should I know? I had no reason to wish him dead. In fact, just the opposite. His death causes me more trouble than I had planned for.”

  Trammel did not like the sound of that. Voicing a concern was one thing. Having it confirmed was another matter entirely. “How so?”

  Hagen looked at him as if he was the poorest soul alive. “He was predictable as the turning of the earth. To paraphrase something the Bard once said so eloquently so long ago, ‘“For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.’”

  Trammel did not know who this Bard was and did not care to know him either. Montague marked the fifth death in Blackstone in the past day. Things were spiraling out of hand and showed no signs of slowing up any time soon.

  He turned when he heard a commotion outside and was glad to see it was only Hawkeye, leading Emily through the crowd and into Montague’s office.

  The deputy paled but did not turn away or get sick.

  Emily set her medical bag on the desk and began examining the wound under Montague’s chin and at the top of his head. She sniffed the air as she held the back of her hand near the gun barrel. “Poor Fred. Looks like a suicide to me.”

  “You’ve put Buck’s mind at ease,” Hagen said. “He was beginning to think it was Apache who made it look like a suicide.”

  Emily looked confused, but Trammel said, “Don’t listen to him. Mayor Welch will be after me about a cause of death and so will Rhoades. Are you willing to go on record that it was a suicide?”

  “I will,” she said. “I’ll finish my examination soon and have a formal cause of death by the end of the day. You’ll have the certifica
te then.”

  Hagen cleared his throat. Trammel knew that sound and that nothing good ever came after it. “What now?”

  Instead, Hagen went to the office door. “Deputy, would you keep the crowd out there in order for us? I need to speak to Miss Emily and the sheriff alone for a while.”

  Hawkeye looked past Hagen and asked Trammel, “What do you want me to do, boss?”

  “Best go outside and keep an eye on the crowd,” Trammel told him. “Tell them there’s no danger and we’ll let them know what happened in a bit.”

  Hawkeye went off as Trammel had asked him to and Hagen shut the door.

  “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t good news?” Trammel said.

  “You’re always so glum,” Hagen chastised him. “This is excellent news, at least for Dr. Downs.”

  Emily said, “Can this wait? I’d like to finish my examination of Fred’s injuries and get him out of here as soon as possible.”

  “That’s why we need to have this conversation now,” Hagen said. “For you see, Emily, I’ve taken the liberty of removing the ugly task of town coroner away from you and placed it in the capable hands of Dr. Moore.”

  Trammel felt a surge of anger, but knew he had no right to be angry. He remembered not every fight was his and this one happened to belong to Emily.

  He judged her reaction to be more curious than angry. “So that’s why you brought him to town.”

  “No,” Hagen assured her. “I brought him to town because he has a method of curing laudanum addicts that works. I saw it for myself in New Orleans and I want him to do the same here in Blackstone. That will keep him busy, but given that I’m already paying him handsomely for his services, those treatments won’t be nearly enough to justify the cost. I’ve arranged for him to be the official coroner for the town for now and, in a pinch, can assist with matters in Laramie, too. That will give you more time to complete your studies.”

  “Studies?” she repeated. “What studies?”

  “Why, your studies to become a doctor of course,” Hagen said. “At least an official one, complete with a diploma and all. Oh, I know you learned quite a bit from your late husband, and I can personally attest to your skill.” He held out his right arm, and the hand was surprisingly steady. He even flexed it several times before tremors caused him to lower it.