Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 01 - Gunfight at Grace Gulch (18 page)

“Reiner wouldn’t cover up a murder.”

Audie placed a finger on my lips to remind me to lower my voice. The contact burned where it touched my flesh. I glanced in Sara’s direction. Perfect! She caught that, too.

“No, but he might not look in the right direction. I figure we can nudge him along. Here’s my idea. Gather everybody who was in the play, and everybody who was in the crowd in front of the saloon, together. Everyone who is still in town, that is.”

“What will be our excuse for getting them back there?” I balked at the thought of asking people to return to the site of bad memories. Okay, they had probably all been back downtown since last Saturday, but not for the express purpose of reliving those horrific minutes. “I wish the police could invite them.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard.” Audie grinned. “Appeal to their vanity. Get new actors for the drama. Ask the mayor and Mitch to play the roles as prominent scions of their respective clans. Explain that we want to see if Penn missed anything in his version of the land run.”

I mulled over the idea. It had possibilities. The mayor would love a chance to play the ham. If he was innocent. And if he was guilty? Well then, maybe he would want to use the play as a smokescreen to throw suspicion on someone else.

“We need the others there as camouflage,” Audie said. “So they don’t suspect a setup.”

Ever since Sara poured the last cup of coffee, Audie had held onto my hands. He bent his head and whispered so that only I could hear. The closest customers sat across the room; no one could hear. I wished he was whispering romantic words instead of investigative secrets.

“That gives us until noon tomorrow to set everything up. Do you think we can do it?”

“All the better. They won’t have time to reconsider and back out.” Audie raised one of my hands to his lips. His warm breath played across my knuckles like a spring breeze. “Why don’t we each call half the people on the list?

“Uh, sure.” With his hand cradling my now forest fire hot fingers, I would have agreed to anything.

“Good. It’s decided then.” With a wicked smile, Audie signaled for Sara. “We’ll share a turtle cheesecake for dessert.”

I started to protest, but Audie insisted. “Fine, then. Let’s look at the rest of Grace’s letters while we wait for dessert.”

Sara refilled our coffee cups and brought out a piece of cheesecake and two forks. We ignored them while we read through the letters that reflected Bob Grace’s heart and his love for his Mary. How I wanted to be loved like that. I looked at the man sitting across from me. Was it possible? Was this the man God had for me? Maybe. I smiled.

Audie caught the smile. “Find something interesting?”

I blushed. “I was just thinking how much Bob Grace loved his wife. And how much she must have loved him.”

“Ah, yes. Lucky man. Maybe Wilde had it right again. ‘Women love us for our defects. If we have enough of them, they will forgive us everything.’ ”

Then you wouldn’t be very lovable, because I can’t see many defects.
I hid my hot face behind the next envelope. The words swam in front of my eyes, then gradually cleared.
“I lined up with thousands,”
the letter stated.

“Audie.” My voice sounded strangled to my ears. “I know who the murderer must be.”

18

Dearest Mary,

I am here on our land! God is faithful!

This morning I lined up with thousands at the border to the unassigned lands. The bugle sounded at the stroke of noon. Patches flattened his neck and began a flat-out run, seeking the front of the herd.

We soon left the other settlers behind. I did not see anyone for long minutes, until at last I caught sight of Gaynor’s black horse as I neared the cave where I kept vigil on Sunday night. We crested the final hill, neck and neck. I was sure that Gaynor’s big horse would have the advantage.

Then the miracle happened. Gaynor’s horse stumbled over a rock. A small thing, for it only slowed him down; but Patches made his way down the hill like the sure-footed cow pony he is.

I passed the flag stake and grabbed it. “This claim belongs to Bob Grace!” I shouted. That nettled Gaynor. I had to urge him to continue to the far side of the river, or he would have missed out on a claim altogether.

God be praised, our dream has begun!

Your loving fiancé,

Robert Grace

~

Friday, September 27

Audie’s head snapped up. “What have you found?” He glanced around, making sure our waitress was out of earshot. The other customers had paid their check and left.

“Or at least I know who it
isn’t
.” I handed over the letters I had been reading, dated immediately before and after the land run. “God convicted Grace that what he planned to do was wrong. He ran the race fair and square.” I managed a slight chuckle. “Cord should be pleased. So should the mayor.”

“So Penn wrote the true story after all,” Audie mused, his fingers tapping on the table. “That means the mayor had no motive—that we know of—to kill Penn. And that means—”

“Mitch is probably our man.” We looked at each other for a long moment, my heart pounding hard in my chest. I lost all interest in the cheesecake still waiting between us.

“Careful.” Audie tucked the letter away and put them all back in the plastic bag. “I think we should still ask both men to take part in the reenactment tomorrow. And it’s time to tell the police what we’ve learned. They need to keep an eye on Mitch. And to convince him that he needs to come, if he objects.”

“At least the exercise should demonstrate that Mitch—or whoever takes his place in the crowd—
could
have
fired unnoticed because everyone was watching the gunfight.”

A big grin broke across Audie’s face. “And I know just how to do it.” He told me what he had in mind. I agreed that it sounded like a good plan.

We asked for a box for the cheesecake, eager as we were to leave and set up things for tomorrow before much more time passed. We decided to talk to the police last. If we told them first, they might try to stop us. Audie dropped me off and went home to make his share of the calls. I stayed on the phone until half past ten. Audie called a few minutes later. Everyone on the list had agreed to come to the Gulch at noon on Saturday.

“Did you have any trouble convincing Mitch?” I asked.

“No. He said it sounded like a good idea, and he’s bringing a photographer along to take pictures. I wonder if he expects to change history this time.”

We had greater concerns than changing Grace Gulch history, and that is why we met on Frances Waller’s doorstep shortly after seven on Saturday morning. It was time to enlist the help of the police, and I had to get to the store by nine. Even a murder investigation couldn’t close down business.

Of course there was a chance Frances would be working, but I relaxed when I spotted her indigo blue coupe in the parking lot in front of her apartment. She opened her door a crack, almost unrecognizable beneath some kind of facial goop, her hair wrapped in a towel, and dressed in jeans and college T-shirt. “Cici. Audie. Give me a minute.” She shut the door in our faces. We waited five long minutes in the cool morning air, listening to the calls of the siskins, wondering if we had made the right move. She reappeared, face clean, hair combed down around her shoulders. “Come in.”

Catching her dressed like an ordinary civilian made it easier to tell her what was on our minds.

“We wanted to talk to you. . .about Penn’s death.”

Her shoulders straightened. “You know I can’t do that. It’s an ongoing investigation.” Even without her uniform, she projected a police presence.

I looked at Audie. He shrugged, as if to say,
it’s up to you
.

“We were concerned when Dina and Cord were involved with the investigation.” I didn’t want to put her on the defensive by saying what I really felt. How could you suspect my sister? “So we decided to ask around on our own.”

Frances raised an eyebrow at that. “Why don’t you sit down while I make some coffee? It sounds like this may take awhile.”

We waited another few minutes. I looked through a stack of books on her end table, surprised to find a few Christian romances tucked in among police manuals. Well, well, was she a romantic at heart? My watch read half-past seven when she returned with four cups in hand, two from the Grace Gulch Police Department and the others, buffalo-shaped mugs dated with Oklahoma’s recent Centennial.

“I called the chief to come over,” she said without preamble. “He needs to hear whatever you have to say, as well.”

Ah, well. So much for gaining her sympathetic ear. We sipped the coffee—hot, strong, perfect for a wake-up cup—until we heard the crunch of car tires on gravel. Our hostess opened the door for Reiner before he could knock and then handed him a cup of coffee.

“What’s this I hear about the two of you interfering with our investigation?” He stomped over and sat down in Frances’s recliner without spilling a drop.

Interfering? No one we had spoken with seemed upset with our visits. Unless the mayor complained to Reiner during their interview.

“I read your statements about the accident in the mayor’s office.”

Of course. “So you have ruled it as an accidental shooting?”

“For now. Although two accidents in one week is too much of a coincidence. You two were at the scene of the crime both times. Another coincidence?”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“But Penn’s death was no accident.” Audie made it a statement.

“Do you have any forensics reports back yet? Have they found the gun?” I asked.

Reiner and Frances looked at each other, silently agreeing not to share that information.

“It wasn’t the gun Cord used, was it?”

Frances blinked at my question, but I decided that I didn’t need an answer to continue. “Cord helped us figure out the angle of the shot. It had to come from the direction of the Gulch. And these were the people who were standing there.” I showed them our well-worn list of suspects.

Again Reiner and Frances exchanged looks. “Tell us what you think you know,” Reiner said. I suppose he couldn’t help the sneer that crept into his voice.

I brought out the steno book Dina had used to list the big three—means, motive, opportunity—and explained everything we had learned. Frances made notes. It took forty-five minutes to finish.

“Is that it?” Reiner sat up in the recliner. “Is that why you dragged me away from home on my day off? You know, you really should leave the questioning to the police.”

I looked to Frances. “We’ll look into what you have told us,” she said.

“That’s not all,” Audie said. “We’ve arranged for everyone involved to come back to town at noon today. We’re going to put on an encore performance, with Mitch and the mayor playing the major roles this time.”

“And we could use your help.” Actually, I thought they could use our help. After all, hadn’t we pretty much uncovered the murderer for them? If today went as we hoped, all that remained for the police was to clamp handcuffs on the murderer’s wrists.

“I can come.” Frances spoke up before Reiner could forbid it. “What do you need me to do?”

Reiner wouldn’t let himself be outdone by a subordinate. “I’ll be there. I don’t know what fool plan you’ve concocted, but I don’t want anybody hurt this time.”

We explained the roles we wanted both of them to play, and they agreed. Ten minutes to nine. Enough time to snag a box of donuts from Gaynor Goodies before I opened for business.

Ordinarily I enjoy Saturday mornings at the store. More children come in on Saturdays than on any other day, and their fascination with the old-fashioned costumes always delights me. I feel like I’m imparting a bit of history to fire their imaginations.

But not today. Each time the doorbell rang, I checked the clock. The hours until noon dragged by. I shut the door behind my last customer at quarter of twelve and closed up for an early lunch.

Half a dozen people had already gathered in front of the Gulch. Someone—probably Frances, bless her heart—had put up barricades at either end of the street to block traffic.

Pastor and Enid Waldberg were there early. Dressed in period costume once again, with the addition of the prairie bonnet I had given her, Enid looked like the perfect prairie wife. She waved me over.

“Are you all set?” She spoke quietly. I’d told her the true purpose of the gathering the night before.

“I think so.” I hedged my answer. “Put it this way. Keep your eyes open and your prayers sent heavenward until this is done.”

“I always do.” She smiled at me.

I spotted Dina and Suzanne by the swinging doors to the Gulch, not yet taken down since last weekend’s festivities. Dina waved me over. “Hey, Cic!”

Suzanne leaned against the door. A wide smile shouting joy brightened her face. “I’ll come get my dress this afternoon.” She winked. “I heard about your date with Audie last night.”

“Let me guess. You stopped by Gaynor Goodies this morning.” As I had expected, Grace Gulch’s rumor mill had done its work. Some date. We spent the night planning how to get a murderer to confess, but she didn’t know that. Not yet.

Before I could answer, Audie called for our attention. Everyone had arrived.

“Thank you all for agreeing to come back today.” His pleasant actor’s voice carried without shouting. “We are going to try to reconstruct the events of last Saturday. We’ve asked you all to join us because you were in a position to see what happened. Mitch Gaynor and Mayor Grace have kindly agreed to take the parts that Cord Grace and poor Penn Hardy played. I will stand where Mitch stood on Saturday. Cici will take the mayor’s place on the sidewalk.”

I waved at the crowd and joined him on the right side of the saloon doors.

Everyone bustled around for a few minutes until they settled exactly where they had been standing when the gunfight took place. Cord turned around and shrugged. He had no assigned place, so he joined Suzanne and Dina by the doors. I spotted Frances across the street, her eyes tracking Mitch’s tall figure as he headed toward the Gulch.

“Action!” When Audie shouted the word, I almost expected to see cameras on tripods rolling down the street. Of course they didn’t. Mitch and the mayor disappeared behind the saloon doors.

Moments later, the two men burst through the doors, reading lines from the script Audie had provided. Without the benefit of practice, their voices didn’t project well nor carry much emotion. Still, those of us on the sidewalk could hear well enough.

“You can’t get away with it. You’re a scoundrel and a cheat.” As close as the words were to Mitch’s threat, they didn’t carry the same level of anger.

“I’m not a cheat. I arrived first, fair and square. And you have to accept it.” The mayor, a political ham, couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

They pointed guns at each other and pulled the triggers. Both men crumpled to the ground.

I held my breath. Tension twisted my shoulders, but I refused to turn around.

“Hand over your weapon, Mr. Howe—er, Gaynor.” The chief of police addressed Audie, who had taken Mitch’s place in the audience.

The audience whirled from the drama taking place in the middle of the street. The Colt in Audie’s hand pointed straight at the spot where Mitch had been standing.

Surprised gasps erupted around me.

Mitch jumped to his feet. “Someone tried to shoot me?”

I took a step forward. “The same way you shot Penn Hardy during the gunfight last week.”

Mitch pointed. “You’re lying!”

I inched forward and landed within Mitch’s long shadow. “You wanted to prevent Hardy from taking over the
Sequoian
.”

“Stop moving!” Mitch waved his gun around.

I halted dead in my tracks.

“You’ll never prove it.”

“I think we will.” Frances stepped out from the shadows. “As soon as we match the ballistics from that gun in your hand to the bullet that killed Hardy.”

Mitch’s face crumpled, erasing its normal civilized mask. He pointed his gun wildly. A puff of smoke exploded from the end of his weapon.

“No!” Audie yelled and jumped in front of me. We landed on the sidewalk, his long legs crushing my crinoline.