Second Chance (The Deadman Series Book 5) Page 7

  Opening the door a crack, Matthew peered outside, his body pressed flat against the jamb. He saw smoke rolling up the street and smelled ashes rising on the chill, early morning air. He also spied a number of darkened silhouettes bending over a still form on the ground by the foot of the alley. “Fire! The building is on fire!” someone shouted.

  Growling with wrath, Matthew stepped outside to see who the fallen man was, where the fire was…and if there was a still a crook in the vicinity he could finally take his frustrations out on.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matthew and the Trinity

  Matthew ran down the alleyway and stopped in front of the fallen man and those who attended him. Both of the young deputies seemed unharmed, but the man on the ground was groaning and clutching at his belly. Matthew could see blood streaming steadily through his fingers.

  Gut-shot, he thought, and spoke to one of the young lawmen. “I take it one of you stopped this fella from firing the building?”

  “Yes, sir, I did,” a tough-looking deputy said. “He was the one who set that fire, down on the corner. I told him to drop the torch but he pulled iron on me. I had no choice!”

  Although the kid looked like he could take care of himself in a pinch, his voice was unnaturally high with nerves and he kept wiping shaky hands on his dungarees. He stared at Matthew with wide eyes, expecting apparently to be dressed down for his troubles.

  Matthew smiled though, and said, “Good job, deputy. This man, and the men he works for, wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you dead.” He paused for a moment, wondering whether it was worth the time and effort or not, and said, “One of you make sure the ambulance comes this way, okay? And then, go ahead and head over to that blaze. Sounds like the fire brigade has it under control, but we don’t want the whole block going up in flames.”

  “Yes, sir!” both young men said in unison and started running toward the street, where the fire engine and a number of concerned citizens were putting water to the inside of a small milliner’s shop.

  The sky was beginning to lighten with the sun’s first rays, and Matthew could see that the fallen man was fading almost as fast as darkness was giving way to the light of day. He was young, probably no older than thirty, and his bony but rather handsome face seemed to glow in the shadows.

  Matthew heard him panting for air and knew he was starting to fight for the last few minutes that remained of his mortal life. Kneeling by his side, Matthew murmured, “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

  The stricken man turned his head and studied Matthew’s face. “Am I gut-shot?” he gasped.

  Matthew nodded, and the man looked away. “The ambulance is on its way,” he said, “but I don’t think you’re going to make it…anything you want to get off your chest before you go under?”

  Matthew had experienced, over the years, that dying men often found comfort in confession. Sometimes they wasted precious minutes assigning blame for the series of misdeeds their lives had become, and sometimes they whispered the whereabouts of hidden fortunes in order to ensure their loved ones’ security.

  Often enough, it happened that wounded and dying men liked to know they were not heading into death’s clammy embrace all by their lonesome. They had gambled against the odds —and lost. In the end, they needed to know that their gambling partners would not get off Scott-free.

  The young man gulped for air and Matthew held his head up for a moment so he wouldn’t strangle on his own spit. He stared up at Matthew’s face and said, “My bosses want all the land around that mine…the Phoenix, I think it is, in Idaho.”

  Coughing and groaning in agony as more blood welled up from the wound in his intestines, the man continued. “They got teams of men assigned to roust the landowners outta there. I ain’t been in on that, but me and my friends was told to do whatever it took to shut that Brazil woman up about what she saw.”

  He gagged as blood rose up in his throat, spilling from his mouth. “I hated to do that, you know, but orders is orders…” His eyes closed and a great shudder wracked his bones.

  Matthew gently shook the man’s shoulders and leaning close to his ear whispered, “Son… wake up! Come on, tell me who your bosses are!”

  The young man, whose face glowed now with an eerie inner-light like a jack-o’ lantern, opened his eyes and murmured, “I never met them…but they are called the Trin…the Trinity.”

  “The Trinity…okay. Who is your head honcho, can you give me that?” Matthew urged.

  The dying man took a long, shuddering breath and whispered. “My boss’ name is Delray Adams—he is a prick, too. Likes beating up on girls before he kills ’em.

  His glassy gray eyes looked up past Matthew’s anxious face and he smiled at a small flock of chattering sparrows that had settled on an electrical wire overhead. “He sent me and Lester down here to torch the newspaper office…” He coughed again and then, as Matthew watched, his eyes grew dim and he died in a pool of his own blood.

  Matthew looked up at the sound of fast-approaching hoof beats. The ambulance had arrived and two attendants jumped down from the wagon. As soon as they saw the dead man, however, they slowed down and took their time loading the body on a wheeled gurney.

  Matthew was just about to head on down the alley and help the fire brigade when he spied the two young boys he had hired three days earlier to help distribute the Journal’s last edition. The two street urchins were standing close to the front door of the newspaper office and one of them gestured for him to come closer.

  The kids couldn’t have been less alike had they tried, but for some reason, they acted like brothers. One of the boys, whose name was Tommy O’Rourke, was short and stout with curly ginger hair and impish, green eyes. His friend’s name was Chen Li, a thin, frail-looking Chinese boy with slanted black eyes and a wide, sunny smile.

  When Matthew walked up, Tommy said, “There were three men, but the other two took off before you got here.”

  Matthew smiled. “You didn’t happen to see where they went, did you?”

  Chen Li grinned. “Sure did, Mr. Matthew…they headed down to the tracks. We followed them, quiet-like, and saw them head into one of the closed-up warehouses—it’s the Wenatchee Orchard warehouse, and it won’t open up again until later on this spring!”

  Matthew pulled a few bills out of his pocket and handed each boy two dollars. “Thanks for your help, boys.”

  The kids grinned and tucked the bills into their shabby coats. They looked like they were about to flee and Matthew asked, “Say, where are your parents, anyway?”

  Tommy’s eyes got big in panic and he stared at his friend, whose gaze grew cold as he studied Matthew’s face. “They are dead, Mr. Matthew, but we are okay, right? Don’t tell the authorities—they will stick us in jail or put us in an orphanage!”

  Matthew sighed. Unfortunately, Chen Li was probably right…orphaned children were often treated likes dregs of society…scorned, abused and subject to the most vile treatment. If he were to alert the authorities, chances were these two boys would end up in worse circumstances than they were already in.

  Making a snap decision (and wondering if he had finally lost his wits, entirely), Matthew said, “How would you kids like to work for the Wilcox and Son Detective Agency?”

  Both boys stared at him in bewilderment, and Matthew added, “That’s my name…Matthew Wilcox. My son and I are in the middle of an investigation right now and we could use a couple of good hands.”

  Suddenly, the youngster’s faces were wreathed in smiles. “You mean it really, sir?” young Tommy whispered. “Chen and I…well, we need the work and we’ll do our best for you—honest!”

  Matthew grinned in return, “Yes, I mean it. How does two bits a day, to start with, plus room and board suit you?”

  Their eyes sparkled and both of them nodded in agreement. Chen spoke up, “What do you want us to do, Mr. Matthew?”

  “Right now, I want you to come inside with me so you can get washed up a bit, grab
a bite to eat and maybe catch a little rest. Then, you can watch over the Thurston’s while the police and I go out to look at that warehouse. Agreed?”

  Both boys seemed almost speechless with joy as they followed him inside the building. In the daylight, Matthew could see how thin, dirty and starved-looking they both were and he felt good knowing that, at least with him and his son, they stood a chance against a harsh and sometimes brutal world.

  The Thurstons, along with their friend Marty Fulbright, were dressed now and standing together in a group at the back of the office when Matthew and his two new hires stepped inside.

  There was a flurry of questions and he answered their concerns to the best of his ability. When he introduced his new employees, Annie took one look and whisked them away to the back rooms. Matthew knew there was a washroom and a small kitchen in back where she could give them a good scrub and put food in their bellies.

  Turning to Clyde, Matthew said, “I’ve got a lead to look into. Now that there has finally been a move made against you, I’m sure the sheriff will authorize more men to stand guard. They should be arriving shortly.” Staring into Clyde’s face, he added, “Are you sure you don’t want to pack it up and move into the sheriff’s office…at least until we catch these perpetrators?”

  The old man shook his head. “Thank you—but no…I’m convinced that with both the Spokane police force and you helping us, we’ll be safe enough. And don’t forget, the people in this fair city know—now—that there is a rat, so to speak, in their midst! They may, or may not, care for my daughter and me personally, but they will not tolerate rodents ruining their feed corn….”

  His eyes twinkled and he added, “Remember what I said to you earlier, Matthew? Vermin like these don’t like a bright light shining on their activities!”

  Matthew wasn’t so sure, but he also thought that, for the time-being, the Thurstons were safe enough. Tipping his hat, he said, “Still, lock the doors and stay away from the windows until I get back, okay?”

  Marty Fulbright answered, “I’ll make sure of it, Mr. Wilcox. Clyde and I need to do some work on the presses in back, and I think your new employees will be keeping Miss Annie busy—at least until your return.”

  Matthew smiled and said, “I’ll be back soon…hopefully with some information on who is trying so hard to kill you!”

  Then he walked to the front door and stepped outside to find…and root out…a few rats hidden away in an abandoned warehouse.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fang or Flame!

  Chance did not know which would happen first…that he and Hannah would both end up as bear food or, they would perish from smoke inhalation. Coughing—gagging really—Chance threw another stick on the smoldering fire and dodged backwards with a strangled shout as he saw the bear run towards him again, swiping at him with sooty claws.

  He and Hannah had been fighting the bear’s approach for about twenty minutes and Chance was starting to despair. Most animals would have been long gone by now! The flames should have been deterrent enough, and he was sure that Hannah had hit the bear at least twice with her pistol.

  He had watched it jerk back and roar with pain, but minutes later the bear was still intent on reaching its prey. To make matters worse, smoke from the fire had shifted and filled the tiny cavern now with noxious fumes and fiery embers.

  Under normal circumstances, the fire would have been a good idea, but there was something wrong with the maddened beast that kept it coming toward them again and again, despite its injuries. And who could have guessed that the gentle spring breeze would turn sharp and shift in their direction?

  Stumbling and almost blind he called out, “Hannah! Hannah…we have to make a run for it!”

  Bending over, Chance tried to find the young woman in the thick smoke. Finally, he almost tripped over the top of her. Peering down, he saw that the tears pouring from her eyes had turned into sooty rivulets on her face. She had an old shirt pressed against her mouth, but it looked like she had lost consciousness.

  He picked up her gun and checked the chamber. Only one bullet left…he thought, and stumbled through the smoky air to the back of the cavern where Hannah kept some extra supplies. Pain shot up his leg and his foot was numb, but Chance knew that was the least of his worries right now.

  Knowing that they would both die from asphyxiation, and soon, if they didn’t leave the cavern, Chance rifled through the contents and found a small wooden box that thumped with a metallic rattle. Opening the lid, he grinned in relief and loaded the pistol with extra bullets. He hobbled over to Hannah’s still form and heaved her up over one shoulder with a grunt of pain.

  Chance stood still for a second, gathering his courage and then, holding Hannah in place with his left hand, he lifted the pistol and crept toward the daylight. The fire was dying again. (That had been the problem all along…the wood had started quickly enough with the addition of kerosene but most of the wood was waterlogged—thus the smoke).

  He could see the enraged bear pacing back and forth on the other side of the diminishing flames. As Chance eyed the open ground, he felt his heart pound in dread. There was simply no place to go! The small pond was ringed around with high, stone walls and the only beach he could see was at least a hundred feet away from the cave entrance.

  The only place to go was either around the waterfall or under it and both routes were blocked by the bear and her cubs. Eyes watering fiercely, Chance stared through the smoke at the cubs standing behind the sow. He saw that they were wet from the waterfall’s mist and seemed confused as to what was going on.

  Knowing there was no other way to go but through, Chance let out a holler and ran, screaming, toward the grizzly bear. For a moment, the beast paused as if in awe of the strange-looking beast running its way. Then, it started to stand in challenge.

  He fired the pistol but Chance knew immediately that he had missed. Cursing the tears that continued to flow from his stinging eyes, he cocked the hammer again and pulled the trigger. This time, he saw the bear drop to the ground with a growl of pain.

  He didn’t know where the creature was hit, but there was no time to stand and assess the damage. With a defiant shout, Chance ran past the bear toward the waterfall.

  Instantly, though, he saw the bear take chase. Heart drumming hard in his chest, Chance ignored his throbbing ankle and picked up speed, praying that he could make it to the tumbling waters before the bear took both him and Hannah down.

  He could actually feel the bear’s pounding gait through the soles of his feet and hear its labored breathing when another sharp report filled the air. The bear fell away and Chance took a second to peer over his right shoulder. The animal was on the ground now, and he could see that her eyes were wide open with shock and pain.

  Panting, Chance watched as the bear jerked once and died. Not quite believing his good fortune, he stared about and saw Deputy Dick McNulty scamper down the pathway from the cleft in the cliff wall high overhead. He had a rifle in one hand and his pistol in the other.

  He also saw Hannah’s father, Jacob, half in and half out of the stony cleft he himself had navigated earlier. Wiping sweat from his face, he studied the sow’s two offspring as they paced in panic at the shoreline. Thankfully, they appeared to be last season’s cubs…probably yearlings, weighing in at around two hundred pounds each. He hoped they were mature enough to go on alone without their mother.

  He placed Hannah on the ground and waved his arms threateningly at the two young bears. Startled, they turned left and then right. Finally, seeing the deputy disappear under the waterfall, they took the route in front of it. Both of them had to get wet and swim part of the way but they ended up on the path from whence they came.

  As the humans watched, the two young bears ran up the stony path and around the pile of boulders at the top of the hill. Still shaking with nerves and a fierce renewal of pain from his swollen ankle, Chance sat on the ground next to Hannah, who was just now waking up and gasping for fresh air.
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  Dick emerged from under the waterfall, and walked up to where Chance and Hannah sat on the rocky shore. He stared at their sooty faces and at the young man’s swollen ankle. “Well,” he said, “looks like you two got yourselves into a fix.”

  Chance nodded. “Yeah, that she-bear was a handful…” Turning around to face the beast, he added, “Thanks, Dicky.”

  Dick nodded. “No problem…sorry it took so long to get here. We heard the first shot about a half hour ago, but it took a while to find this place. For a minute there, I wasn’t sure if we would find you at all.”

  Hearing a panicked shout, they all looked up to see that Jacob had made his way through the cleft in the cliff wall and was moving toward them down the stony path. They waved at him and heard him shout, “I’ll be there in a minute, Hans!”

  Gazing at the young woman, who was soaking wet and still trying to clear the ash and smoke from her throat and mouth, Dick said, “Luckily, Jacob had a pretty good idea about where young Hans here was headed.”

  Hannah looked up at the deputy and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. “I’m guessing, by now, you know I’m a girl?”

  Dicky grinned. “I knew that a couple of weeks ago, but I tried to play along with the notion you were posing as a boy.”

  Hannah sighed and shook her head, while Chance stared up at his oldest friend. “Why didn’t you tell me, Dicky?”

  Dick shrugged. “I figured that Jacob and…” he raised his eyebrows at the young woman.

  She said, “My real name is Hannah, sir.”

  Dick continued, “I figured that Hannah and her father had their reasons for keeping mum about her being a girl. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of it, and in these wild parts, it’s not a bad idea, either.”

  Jacob emerged from under the waterfall’s rushing waters. He shook himself like an old dog and ran the remaining steps to where his daughter sat on the ground. “Hans! Are you alright?”