Chapter 4 - The Iron Behind the Grain Sacks
Odessa had buried Elias wearing that ring.
She was certain.
She had placed it on his finger herself.
Emmett stared at it.
“If this came from his grave—”
“Then somebody opened it.”
The thought sickened her.
At dawn they rode to the cemetery.
Elias’s grave looked undisturbed from a distance.
Closer, Emmett saw that the soil had settled differently along one edge.
Someone had dug there and carefully replaced the sod.
Odessa stood motionless.
“I want to know.”
Emmett understood what she meant.
They returned with Sheriff Puit and the undertaker.
Puit protested until Odessa threatened to seek a territorial judge.
The coffin was raised.
The lid opened.
Odessa turned pale.
Elias’s body was there.
But his right hand had been disturbed.
The ring was gone.
More importantly, the undertaker noticed something.
“What?” Emmett asked.
The old man pointed toward Elias’s skull.
“When we prepared him, Sheriff said his neck broke in the fall.”
“Yes.”
The undertaker swallowed.
“That isn’t all that happened.”
A narrow fracture marked the back of Elias’s skull.
Blunt force.
Before the fall.
Puit stiffened.
“Three years underground can do strange things.”
The undertaker glared at him.
“Not that.”
Odessa turned toward Puit.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You never examined him.”
“I had no reason.”
“My husband was murdered.”
Puit left without answering.
That afternoon Odessa sat alone in the barn.
Emmett found her there.
“I should have fought harder,” she said.
“You were grieving.”
“I let them call it an accident.”
“You trusted the law.”
“I trusted the wrong people.”
Emmett sat beside her.
“Then trust me now.”
Odessa looked at him.
He expected a joke.
She gave none.
“I do.”
Those two words frightened him more than gunfire.
Because he realized he trusted her too.
They returned to Elias’s office.
If someone stole his journal, perhaps they missed something else.
Emmett examined the desk.
One drawer was shallower than the others.
False bottom.
Inside lay a folded survey map.
North Creek.
Several red marks showed diversion points.
Beside one was written:
B.V. + R.K.
Another note:
If anything happens, find Samuel Crowe.
“Who’s Samuel Crowe?” Emmett asked.
Odessa frowned.
“I don’t know.”
They asked in town.
Nobody wanted to answer.
Finally, the bartender leaned close.
“Crowe worked Ironwood years ago.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Odessa and Emmett exchanged a look.
“How?”
“Barn fire.”
“When?”
The bartender hesitated.
“Two days after Elias Kesler died.”
Outside, Emmett exhaled.
“Two witnesses. Two deaths.”
“Maybe three,” Odessa said.
She pointed across the street.
Rafe Kums stood beside Sheriff Puit.
Watching them.
Rafe smiled.
Then entered the sheriff’s office.
Emmett and Odessa returned home by a different road.
Near dusk, they found a rider waiting at their gate.
Silas Whitlock.
Emmett’s former employer.
Whitlock looked older.
Ashamed.
“I need to talk to you.”
Emmett’s voice hardened.
“You had your chance.”
“I know.”
Whitlock removed his hat.
“The six cattle you were accused of stealing?”
“What about them?”
“They weren’t the first.”
Emmett went still.
Whitlock reached into his coat.
“I found this after you left.”
He produced a page torn from an account ledger.
Several cattle numbers appeared.
Beside each was the same name.
Rafe Kums.
Then Whitlock pointed to a final entry.
A payment.
Signed by Barton Vain.
Odessa whispered, “You can clear Emmett.”
Whitlock shook his head.
“This can do more than that.”
A gunshot cracked from the ridge.
Whitlock jerked backward.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Emmett caught him before he hit the ground.
Whitlock struggled for breath.
He shoved the ledger page into Emmett’s hand.
Then whispered one final thing.
“Don’t trust Puit. He was there when Elias…”
His eyes widened.
May you like
Behind Odessa, the barn door slowly opened.
Someone stepped out holding the missing running iron.
