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Authors: Jo Goodman

The Last Renegade (47 page)

BOOK: The Last Renegade
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Sue took a deep breath and released it in a single gust. “Most evenings Emily and I left the Pennyroyal together. I’d walk her home and then go to my own because that was the easiest. Sometimes Walt came along. If Charlie was around, he would escort both of us.” She looked at him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I got to noticing that some nights Emily would take longer doing her chores. She’d tell me to go on by myself and most times I did because she would just dawdle if I waited around. I figured she was probably wanting time alone with someone special same as I was wanting time with Charlie.” Sue’s hand flew to her mouth. Her face flushed pink.

“It’s all right, Sue,” said Raine. “It’s no secret to us how you feel about Charlie. Go on.”

“Itjustcametomeoneeveningthat—” She stopped, took another deep breath, and began again. “It just came to me one evening that Emily took her time on the same nights Mr. Clay Burdick was in town. I thought that was plenty peculiar, and I did think I could be making something out of nothing, so I teased her about it. She called me flat-out crazy, and that was the end of it between her and me. I don’t think I ever brought it up again, but I noticed it just the same, and when Emily disappeared with the whiskey drummer—Mr. Weyman, I mean—I figured I was flat-out crazy to think she was ever sweet on Mr. Clay Burdick.”

Clay snorted. “Flat-out crazy is right. I never met up with Emily Ransom. I don’t wait around for women.”

Kellen ignored Clay’s outburst. “Did you ever see Clay and Emily alone?”

“No, sir. I didn’t see them, but I did overhear them once. Way back in September it was. Right here, behind the Pennyroyal. I went looking for Emily, and when I couldn’t find her inside, I opened the back door. That’s when I heard them talking. I didn’t hear the words exactly. I didn’t want to. I waited in the kitchen until she came back in, and I pretended I didn’t
know that she had been talking to Mr. Burdick. I could tell she was angry, so I thought she’d given him a piece of her mind.”

“If you didn’t see Clay, how can you be certain he was with Emily? Why couldn’t it have been Eli?”

“I saw Phantom. There’s no mistaking Mr. Clay’s horse.”

“Thank you, Sue,” said Kellen. “You can sit down now.” His attention shifted from his witness to the judge. “Since there already has been mention of Clay Burdick’s horse, I want to add that on the night George Weyman and Emily Ransom disappeared, two people saw Phantom behind the Pennyroyal.”

Clay gave the table a shove. “That’s a lie!”

Jones pointed to Clay. “Enough.”

Clay huffed loudly, but he did not challenge Jones.

Kellen went on. “No one but Clay Burdick rides Phantom.” He waited for the wave of agreement to roll through the saloon. “In summary, we have testimony that Emily and Clay were meeting secretly, that Emily delivered correspondence between Raine and Nat Church to the station, and that on the evening the whiskey drummer and Emily went missing, Clay Burdick was in town.”

Mr. Collins stood again. “I’d like to say something else.” When he got a nod from Kellen and Jones, he went on. “Emily came by regular to check for the hotel’s mail. It used to be Walt I could set my clock by, but about six months ago, it was Emily who dropped in. She wasn’t steady in her time the way Walt was, but I could depend on seeing her.”

Kellen said, “Now we know that Emily also picked up correspondence from Nat Church. That circles the wagons. It is my contention, Judge, that Emily read the letters between the parties and reported what was written to Clay Burdick. This gave Mr. Burdick all the information he needed to stop Mr. Church from reaching Bitter Springs.”

“It’s all lies,” said Clay. He jabbed a finger at Reasoner again. “Seems like you should be telling them it’s all lies.”

Reasoner rubbed the underside of his chin. “It does seem as though you are arriving at unwarranted conclusions, Mr. Coltrane. This wagon circle of yours is not as tight as you would have us believe.”

“That’s right,” Clay said. “The Sioux Nation could ride through all the holes it’s got.”

Kellen sighed. “There is some evidence that places Mr. Burdick with Emily Ransom around the time of her death. I have hesitated to produce it out of respect for Miss Ransom.”

Clay turned his accusing finger on Kellen. “You haven’t shown it because it doesn’t exist. Just like those two witnesses who say they saw my horse behind the Pennyroyal. You didn’t produce either one of them. And why is this all about me anyway? Wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook me for Eli. I don’t hear his name being brought up.”

Kellen raised an eyebrow at Eli. “Are you dissatisfied that your brother is receiving all of the attention?”

“Suits me fine.”

“Do you want to say anything in his defense?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

“Do you want to say anything that supports the case being made against him?”

Eli showed his thoughtful side, scratching just behind his ear. “That would make things real difficult for me, wouldn’t it?” he said at last. “Seems like the Burdicks are always getting tarred with the same brush. A man in this family can’t have a reputation of his own for the one that swallows him up.”

“Oh, I think you might be overstating it, Eli. I’m fairly certain you have a reputation separate from your family.”

Eli nodded slowly. He pointed to his empty glass and the bottle in front of him. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Eli poured a drink and threw it back. He set down the glass. “I figure the best thing for me to do is hang my hat on the fifth.”

Clay glared at him. He had to raise his voice above the sudden burst of chatter. “What the hell’s that mean? You going to help me or not?”

John Paul Jones used the empty tumbler in front of him as a gavel and brought silence back to the saloon. “Mr. Eli Burdick is saying he will not speak against you because he has the right not to incriminate himself.”

“Is that what you’re sayin’, Eli?”

“It is.”

Clay drew back his fist. The gun Kellen leveled at his head stayed his arm. His fist remained raised and full of promise for a few seconds before he finally lowered it.

Raine waited for Kellen to rest his gun before she prompted him. “You were telling us about some evidence.”

“So I was. Will you get it, please?”

Raine nodded and left Jones’s side to go behind the bar. Everyone followed her progress, and when she stood in front of the large mirror with her back to her audience, she saw mostly curiosity in the eyes turned on her. Raine set down the revolver long enough to lift the bottom edge of the mirror away from the wall. She caught the photographs as they began to fall. Holding them close to her chest, she picked up the Colt, and returned to her place beside the judge.

“What’s that she’s carrying?” asked Clay. “I want to see what she’s got.” He started to come out of his chair, but it was Eli who pushed him back this time, not Kellen’s gun. “Damn it! If it’s about me, I have a right to see what she’s holding.”

Raine leveled her gaze on Clay, but she spoke to everyone. “I believe all of you know that Mr. Petit and Mr. Reasoner were the ones who found Emily’s body. You might not know that Mr. Petit took photographs. He gave several to Deputy Sugar. None of the photographs would have been a comfort to the family, so he kept the rest. After a promising start, the photographs that he gave Dan Sugar ultimately proved to be unhelpful.”

She glanced at the Davis brothers. “Would any of you like to say anything about those photographs?”

Jem spoke up. “Sugar showed us the pictures. Turned out there was nothin’ about them that could help us find Emily’s killer.”

Raine continued, her attention on Clay once again. “There were other photographs, though, far more interesting in composition and perspective, that Mr. Petit did not show to Deputy Sugar. I can only guess at his reasons. Since Mr. Petit cannot answer for himself, our nine good men will have to draw their own conclusions. I am holding three photographs for them to review.”

Clay shot out of his chair. This time he ignored the gun Kellen pointed at him. In a single motion, he braced his arms on the table and vaulted it. Kellen had to lean away to avoid having the Colt kicked out of his hand. He recovered quickly, took aim, but didn’t fire.

No one else did either, even when Clay stumbled over his own feet as he was brought short by all the weapons drawn in his direction. He caught himself, straightened, and threw up his hands. Every member of the jury had a gun pointed at his chest. Even Raine had her Colt raised, and her hand was as steady as the others. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Kellen’s revolver aimed at his back. He kept his hands in the air. After facing forward again, he didn’t move.

“Well, Clay,” said Kellen, “I hope you appreciate your jury’s restraint.”

“And mine,” said Raine.

“And my wife’s.”

Clay gritted his teeth. “I want to see them.”

“Why?” asked Kellen. “Haven’t you seen at least one like them before? I have to believe Mr. Petit shared one with you. You would have demanded proof when he tried to blackmail you. Eli? I swear you look as if you could use another drink, and you might want to pour one for Clay. He’d probably appreciate it.”

There was nothing left in the bottle after Eli poured two drinks. He pushed Clay’s glass across the table. “I suppose they’ll let you put your hands down to get it.”

“I don’t want a goddamn drink.”

Kellen motioned to the jury and Raine. “Put your guns down. Clay, take your seat.”

Clay lowered his hands, but he didn’t retreat. He jerked his square chin at the table where Jones and Reasoner were sitting. “Say something! You better goddamn say something. Uriah will take you out himself for this. Didn’t I say he would? You’re supposed to be watching out for our interests. Everyone’s got it in their mind it’s about that whore Emily Ransom and the whiskey drummer. Seems like folks are forgetting Sterling and Pennway and all the others. You don’t hear them talkin’ about
the water, do you? Well, I might have something to say about that. Something to say about John Hood and Hank Thompson, too, and the money you got sitting in the Cattlemen’s Trust. Have you been thinking about that while you’ve been sitting there? We have an agreement. You said you’d take care of Petit. Well, he ain’t cared for if she’s got photographs like she says she does.”

Frowning in unison, Jones and Reasoner each turned his head to regard the other.

Eli tossed back his drink.

Kellen stood.

Raine pressed the photographs more tightly against her breast.

Nine good men did not flinch.

Clay Burdick’s pale blue eyes cut between Jones and Reasoner.

No one breathed. No one stirred.

And no one who saw what happened next doubted that it was the silence that moved Clay Burdick past the edge of reason.

Head down, shoulders bunched around his neck, he attacked Jones and Reasoner. Some folks said he pawed the floor before he charged at them like a mad bull.

Pushing the table forward, Jones leapt to his feet. He snapped his wrist. His hand closed over the hilt of a four-inch blade. His throw was fluid, the trajectory of the knife a blur.

The flight of the lead ball from Reasoner’s palm pistol could also be seen, but no one was looking for it. Reasoner never left his chair. The ball shattered the empty bottle on the table in front of Eli. Eli staggered to his feet and fell sideways against Walt.

Momentum kept Clay upright and headed in the direction of Jones and Reasoner. For five full steps he was oblivious to the blade plunged deeply into his chest or the hilt sticking out of it. He overturned the table and spread his arms high and wide as he began to fall.

Walter braced himself to take Eli’s weight but never bore the full brunt of it. Eli tore the gun from his hand and took aim
at Reasoner. Raine moved out of the way until she was backed up against the bar. Men who were on the periphery of Eli’s line of sight pushed themselves outside of it.

Reasoner dove for the floor. His shoulder collided with Clay, who was on his way down. He was knocked off course. Instead of dodging the bullet, he met it head on.

Kellen turned his gun on Eli. “Put your weapon on the table, Eli. Mr. Jones. Just because I’m occupied doesn’t mean you should move. There are nine other men here who will feel obliged to shoot you if you do.”

“And one woman,” said Raine.

“And one woman.”

Eli stared rather blankly at the gun in his hand while he wavered on his feet. He frowned slightly, shaking his head, and placed the gun on the table. Walt quickly seized it.

“Take a seat, Eli,” said Kellen. “Walt, you give Eli plenty of room. I can’t believe he’s still standing. Aren’t you about ready to drop, Eli?”

Eli did just that, barely catching the chair that Cecilia shoved under him. Walt pushed the table close enough so that when Eli’s head dropped, there was something almost as hard in place to catch it.

Kellen looked around the saloon. His shrug was meant as an apology to the room at large. “Sometimes there’s no accounting for the way a story ends.” He waved Raine over to his side. She came carrying the revolver and the photographs, and when she stood next to him, he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “You talk to them.”

Raine looked over the members of the jury. “In the matter of the death of Emily Ransom, what do you have to say for Clay Burdick?”

Nine men spoke with a single voice. “Guilty.”

“And in the murder attempt against Eli Burdick by Mr. Alexander Reasoner, what do you say?”

“Guilty.”

“And in the murder of Mr. Reasoner, what do you have to say for Eli Burdick?”

“Not guilty by reason of self-defense.”

“And in the death of Clay Burdick, what do you have to say for Mr. John Paul Jones?”

“Guilty.”

Jones drew himself up stiffly. “It was self-defense. He was coming after me. You all saw him. None of you tried to stop him. He wanted to kill me.”

“He had no weapon,” said Raine.

“I’m telling you, he was coming after me.”

“Was he?” Kellen asked. “It wasn’t entirely clear to me, nor I suspect to anyone else, who he was charging. I speak for all of us when I say I appreciate your clarification. I thought Reasoner’s shot might have been meant for Clay, not Eli, but it wasn’t like that at all.” He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “You each needed to get rid of a brother. You couldn’t have Eli start talking once Clay stopped. You and Reasoner were partners, working together from the beginning.”

BOOK: The Last Renegade
3.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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