Deadman's Revenge (The Deadman Series Book 3) Page 4

  Still, Earl was afraid of dying and equally afraid of living with what remained of his face. “Can you fix my dose?” he asked.

  “Do you mind?” Talbot leaned over and gently moved Earl’s head back and forth, studying the blob on the front of his face. Then he grunted, “Most of the stitches on the left side are holding and there looks to be an adequate flow of blood to the affected area. The right side, though… if I’m going to save your nose, Mr.…” he paused, waiting for Earl to supply a name. Seeing that wasn’t going to happen, he added, “I need to move quickly. Right now, in fact.”

  “How ‘bout the reth of my face?” Earl still couldn’t believe that God-forsaken wolf had burrowed its way into his mouth and tore out a chunk of his tongue during the attack.

  Talbot said, “Open wide,” and stared down Earl’s gullet for a few moments. Shaking his head, he turned to Josh and asked, “Don’t suppose you found what’s left of your friend’s tongue lying around after that bear attack?”

  Josh shook his head and the doctor turned back to Earl. “What’s done is done, as far as your tongue’s concerned. It’s not too bad though… a little practice and you will make yourself understood well enough. It’s that nose that’s going to kill you if you don’t let me work on it right now.”

  “How much?” Earl glared.

  The doctor smiled down at him. “One thousand dollars… and a good horse.”

  Earl sat up with an outraged roar and then fell back down in a swoon. “That’s robbery!” he gasped.

  Talbot shrugged. “That’s business, sir. I’m a good doctor, but I have fallen on hard times since they caught me preforming one too many abortions. Now, I’m one step ahead of the law and I need a new start. You’re my ticket.”

  “I could have my man shoot you dead.” Earl replied, wincing as his ruined tongue tried to pronounce the simple words.

  “Talbot raised his furry eyebrows. “Really? Don’t you want to live with your pretty face intact?”

  Earl studied the old coot’s long face for a moment. “Okay… half dow, the rest after.”

  “Excellent!” the doctor exclaimed. Turning to Josh he said, “First bring me my cash and then fetch me a pan of hot water—as hot as you can get it! I’ll also need clean towels… lots of them. HURRY!”

  Earl gestured to Josh and the young man nodded. Rooting through the leather bag and shrugging in bewilderment, Earl said, “Bring it to me!”

  Josh handed the bag over and watched as Earl thumbed through the bills, finally handing five hundred dollars to the doctor. Then he glared up at Josh and said, “Go get the water and towels, Josh!” The young man nodded and ran out the door.

  Then, Talbot reached inside his bag and came up with a wicked looking hypodermic needle. Gazing down into Earl’s eyes, he murmured, “Take a little snooze now. When you wake up, you will feel like a new man.”

  Chapter 4

  Matthew—Desolate

  Matthew stared down at the red and bloody ruin his life had just become and felt his heart crack in two. He wanted to throw his head back and howl in anguish. He wanted to fall to his knees and sob in grief. He wanted to dig a hole in the ground and crawl inside of it and die—but he had work to do. A little voice in back of his mind spoke clearly through the roaring maelstrom of his jumbled emotions saying, “You must think clearly now—Chance needs you!”

  His son was clinging to his arm, eyes wide with shock and mouth opening and closing against the suppressed screams in his throat. “Pa…oh, Pa” he whispered.

  Turning around, Matthew swept the boy up in his arms and walked out the front door. He didn’t realize it but he was pressing his son’s face into his chest and whispering, “Take it easy, Chance. It will be all right… Ssh, Ssh.”

  As if Matthew’s words had pushed over a dam, Chance suddenly convulsed in Matthew’s arms, keening in sorrow and then he burst into tears, sobbing against his father’s chest. Matthew made for their horses, still saddled and nibbling on tall grass by the side of the entrance road.

  Putting his heart-broken child down on the ground, Matthew swiftly unsaddled Chance’s horse and then led it by the bridle to the paddock. His heartbeat was steady and, for the moment, he operated on instinct alone. He did not know that his face was as gray as a ghost, or that white showed all around his brilliant green irises, like a spooked mule.

  Once inside the fence, he pulled the bridle off the animal’s muzzle and slapped its rump. Watching, for a moment, as the horse did a little rodeo in front of its herd mates, he closed the gate, walked back and picked Chance up in his arms again. Placing the boy just behind the saddle’s cantle, he climbed on and kicked Lincoln up to a trot.

  They rode toward town, Chance clinging to his pa’s back with trembling arms. Matthew could tell the boy was trying to be brave… to stop the sobs that kept rising up in his chest like a rushing river, but he wanted the boy to let those poisonous waters out. He didn’t want Chance to turn out like him—bottled up, cold and remote.

  Iris had been the one person in his life who was able to uncork his overwhelming fear… the fear of loss, love, family and friendship. With a large dose of determination and humor, she had reached past his defenses and taught him to love again and to bury the ghosts of his past. Now she was gone and it was up to him to protect his son’s heart.

  His eyes were burning with unshed tears. He wanted to weep and wail, he longed for the release of his sorrow, but his eyes remained barren. Seeing the church steeple in the near distance and the second story balcony of the town’s newest hotel, Matthew placed his right hand over his son’s clenched fists.

  “I’m taking you to Roy, Chance. I’ll have you stay with him while I clean things up a bit at home, okay?” He felt his boy shake his head.

  “No!” Chance mumbled. “I’m staying with you!”

  Matthew sighed. He knew this would happen but knowing didn’t make dealing with it any easier. They were about a hundred yards from the large livery that marked the entrance to his hometown… a new barn but the same place that had brought an end to the “Granville Stand-off,” so long ago.

  He stopped his horse and slid off the saddle, gazing up at the boy who looked so much like Iris it made his heart ache. Chance stared down at Matthew in defiance.

  “I’m staying with you, Pa. Don’t send me away… not now.”

  Matthew stared down at the toes of his boots. Then he looked up at Chance again. “Please, help me out, son. I have to use my badge now, which means I need my deputy’s help in figuring out who did this to your ma and to old Lenny. You are smart, Chance, and a great help to me but this time you’re too close to the victims to be of any use.

  Chance glared. “What about you, Pa? You’re close too!”

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, I am too close and, eventually, the marshals will kick me off the case. That’s the way it works, Chance. Meanwhile, I’m going to do what I can to help find the bast… the men who did this to us, okay?” Green eyes searched green eyes and, finally, Chance shrugged in defeat.

  Matthew continued. “I need to know you’re safe, son, while I search for evidence, but I’ll come and get you later on tonight. While I’m gone, I need you to send for Abby and Sam, all right? Either Abner or Dicky will help you with that. Tell them to make haste, as I would like to lay your ma to rest as soon as possible.

  Chance’s large, slightly slanted green eyes filled with tears again and his face turned red. Matthew held his arms up and Chance slid off the back of the horse and into his father’s embrace.

  A few moments passed as the boy wept and then Sheriff Roy Smithers said, “What’s happened, Matthew?”

  ~

  Three days later, Matthew and his children stood close to three newly, dug graves. They were surrounded by the town’s citizens, including members of the sheriff’s department, the US Marshal’s office and a number of dignitaries from the city of Spokane. There was even a representative from the State governor’s office.

  Chance was standing c
lose to Matthew on one side and Iris’ daughter, Abby, on the other. Abby’s young husband held their twin sons as their mother was inconsolable and clung to Matthew’s left arm as though it was the only thing holding her upright. Iris’ son, Samuel, stood at attention in his Calvary uniform, staring at his mother’s casket with angry eyes. When he wasn’t staring at Iris’ coffin he was gazing at Matthew in accusation.

  Sam was a good boy but he was no fool. He knew that Matthew was somehow responsible for his mother’s death. Not intentionally, he acknowledged, but right at this moment, that was cold comfort. Matthew had made too many enemies during his years as a lawman and now, in Sam’s mind, the chickens had come home to roost.

  Matthew was well-aware of the young man’s scrutiny and felt no desire to defend himself. He was responsible for the death of his wife and he knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. He was careful, though, to avoid Samuel’s eyes. Right now, he needed Sam and Abby, both, to be strong and to step up to the task of moving forward in life.

  Sam would be going back to active duty in two days, which was right and proper, as time alone would heal the boy’s heart. Abby, though, would need to take her little brother, Chance, into her home in Spokane. Maybe for a short time only or… maybe forever.

  ~

  As the preacher droned on and on and the cool autumn wind nipped at people’s coats and parasols, Roy stared across the short distance to where his best friend stared into the dark hole that would house his beloved Iris forever. Then he shivered, thinking about the last couple of days and wondering what would happen next.

  In those first few, mind numbing hours after finding Iris lying dead in her own kitchen and her farmhand, Lenny, filled with holes in the front paddock of the Imes’ ranch, Roy had decided to ensconce Chance in one of the jail cells of the sheriff’s office. He thought, and Matthew agreed, that this was a revenge killing and worried the perpetrators were still at large in the area and possibly intent on wiping out the US Marshal’s whole family.

  Chance was offended, of course, and wanted to stay as close as possible to his father but there was work to be done and neither Matthew nor the Granville sheriff’s department had the time or the ability to keep the boy occupied, while they made final preparations and searched, in vain, for Iris’ killers.

  While Bean Tolson kept Chance company, Matthew, Roy and the Granville deputies spent the rest of that afternoon and most of the next day searching the town and neighboring farms but found nothing out of the ordinary. Knowing that the doctor (who was also the town’s coroner) was tending to Iris and Lenny did not ease Matthew’s mind. He had turned to Roy, finally, saying, “I have got to get back to the house, Roy. Will you keep Chance safe and… as comfortable as possible?”

  “Of course, Matthew,” Roy responded. Turning to Dicky McNulty and Abner Smalley he said, “You two go on ahead… I’ll catch up in a bit.” The two grief-stricken deputies nodded, and spurred their horses up the road to search the last two farmsteads within a thirty-mile radius of town.

  Facing Matthew again, Roy said, “If you will just wait a little while, me and the boys will help you search the house.”

  Roy’s bright blue eyes were red and sunk into tired, gray pouches… it seemed he had aged into an old man almost overnight. Of course, being ten years older than Matthew; he technically was an old man now, at fifty. Still, the news of Iris’ murder had hit him hard, and he hadn’t slept a wink since he ran into Matthew and Chance yesterday on the outskirts of town, and heard the devastating news.

  Roy studied Matthew and his heart sank. He had seen that desolation on his friend’s face a couple of times during their fifteen-year friendship, and mourned that the expression on those handsome features was just as bleak now—and twice as deadly. Roy knew that Matthew would not let this stand. Come Hell or high water, his friend would move heaven and Earth, leaving no stone unturned, until he tracked down the dirty dog who murdered his wife.

  “Did you hear me, Matthew?” Roy asked.

  Matthew was staring at the far horizon, where a flock of crows seethed and hissed over something on the ground below them. He started at Roy’s words, then turned around in his saddle. He shook his head and said, “Yes Roy, I heard you but, no. I really need to be alone, okay? I’ll be able to concentrate better if there aren’t other bodies around me.”

  Roy nodded. He had been at Matthew’s side two days ago, when they entered his home. He had watched as the marshal fell to his knees by Iris and Bandit, and winced as Matthew gathered them both up in his arms, weeping silently, his big shoulders hunched and quaking with grief. Abner and Bean Tolson were entertaining Chance at the jailhouse, but Dicky had come with Roy and Matthew and stood in the kitchen doorway, weeping like a baby.

  ~

  Now, Roy sighed. Iris was lying in a coffin next to where Matthew had already buried his beloved pet wolf, Bandit. He saw the look in his old friend’s eyes and, despite the fact that he held his stepdaughter tightly and clutched Chance close to his body; Roy noted the chilly distance in Matthew’s eyes.

  Matthew had taken him aside a few minutes before the funeral service and murmured, “Promise you’ll see after Chance, please?”

  Roy turned around and stared up into Matthew’s face. “Of course I will, but that job should fall to you, am I right?”

  Matthew looked down at his boots. “I will make sure he and the other children are taken care of, financially.” Expression hidden by the brim of his dress hat, Matthew’s tone was neutral.

  “What are you going to do, Mattie?” Roy whispered as black clad men, women and children filed past them on the way to the gravesite.

  Matthew looked up and his green eyes locked on Roy’s face. “You know, exactly, what I’m going to do. As God is my witness, I will find who did this to Iris, to…” For the first time, Roy heard grief trembling in Matthew’s voice.

  “To me…” he sighed, plucking a handkerchief out of his suit coat pocket and wiping his eyes.

  Roy wanted to help. He wanted nothing more than to leave everyone and everything behind and help his friend track down the perpetrators but… he just couldn’t. The town of Granville had grown by leaps, and bounds, since he first took office five years earlier. There were 290 citizens within the town limits now, and another three-hundred souls in the surrounding area that he had sworn to protect. He simply couldn’t abandon them.

  Knowing… no, depending on this, Matthew had looked Roy square in the eyes. Standing straight, he said. “I found a piece of evidence at the crime scene.” Patting his pocket, he added, “I’m not sure what it means yet, but I have to track down some sources. I have a feeling that… well, it might take some time.” He cleared his throat and watched as Abby led Chance toward the newly dug hole in the graveyard.

  Chance was looking his way, his small face pinched with grief and horror. Sam was also staring at his stepfather but his expression was a mite more hostile.

  “We had better go.” Matthew muttered and started walking toward the small cemetery as well. He slowed down, though, and said, “Chance is going to be mad at me, you know. Try to ease his heart, okay? In the meantime, promise you’ll keep him and all my children safe.”

  A while later, as he stood across the burial plot of his oldest friend’s wife, Roy understood that Matthew was already gone. Sure, his body was there, doing its best to be a pillar of strength on which his children could lean, but his heart had left three days earlier when he found what remained of his one true love and his loyal pet.

  Sighing again, as his wife wept by his side, Roy vowed to keep Matthew’s children safe, while their father risked everything to bring justice to the men who had devastated his life.

  Unfortunately, Roy Smithers also understood that Matthew strove for more than simple justice. The look he saw in his friend’ eyes was as deep and cold as the bottom of an artic lake, and the Spokane County sheriff knew that justice was the least of Matthew’s concerns.

  What Marshal Wilcox real
ly sought was revenge.

  Chapter 5

  Earl

  Earl awoke with a startled yelp from a swirling, haze of pain. He stared at the doctor who sat snoring, in a chair by the wall with his flop hat pulled down over his eyes and then at Josh who stood, like a faithful hound, by the door to the hotel room.

  “How are you feeling, Earl?” Josh asked.

  Earl took inventory. Although he was still addle-pated, the bite marks didn’t hurt quite as much and he could tell that the swelling around his eyes and mouth had subsided. He lifted a hand to touch his nose, but Josh stopped him.

  “Don’t touch it, Earl! The doc did a good job, as far as I can tell, but he said the stitches are… frag…”

  It was obvious to Earl that Josh couldn’t quite recall the word the doctor had used but ascertained that the elusive term was “fragile”. He let his hand drop and demanded, “How long have I been out?”

  “Couple of days is all.”

  Earl glared up at the younger man. “Well, how does it look?”

  Josh studied Earl’s face for a moment and replied, “It’s a lot better, I think. It covers your air holes, anyway. It’s still pretty bruised up and swoll, though. You should leave it be, while it heals.”

  Doctor Talbot was awake by now and added, “I was able to re-attach the flesh and, so far, the stiches are holding. Remember though, the animal that attacked you managed to tear away a good portion of the underlying cartilage. Your nose will heal, but it will not look the same as it did.”

  Earl smiled. Maybe that goddamn wolf did me a favor, he thought. I have a fortune hidden away, but I also have a record with the law, thanks to Wilcox. Now that I have gotten my revenge, I can go all the way— change my appearance, my clothes, and my whole life. That way, if Wilcox is gunning for me… he’ll never know who I am, even if he trips right over the top of me!