Hell With the Lid Blown Off Page 21

  Wallace MacKenzie and Randal Wakefield? If what Ruth had unwittingly intimated about the young men was true, and Jubal Beldon knew it and had threatened to expose them, they had a powerful incentive to shut him up for good. The love that dare not speak its name would earn them prison terms and they would be ostracized from society for life. If they weren’t beaten to death first.

  If she could just check one more thing, she might be able to present Scott with a much more complete scenario. For she was beginning to form a picture in her mind of what must have happened that night.

  Trenton Calder

  I sent the telegram to the county sheriff in Muskogee and to the circuit judge’s office, like Scott had told me to, but I wasn’t happy about it. I thought an inquest was a waste of time since the shooting was self-defense pure and simple. However, nobody asked my opinion about that. Next I went hunting for Randal Wakefield. I knew he was staying in the American Hotel, because he had a room right down the hall from me. Hattie Tucker ran the hotel, and when folks came to check in, they did it at the mercantile then went next door and up the stairs to their rooms over the store. So there wasn’t any lobby like in a big city hotel. I went up the stairs and right to Randal’s door and knocked, but there was no answer.

  I went ahead and turned the knob. It wasn’t locked. No one thought to lock their doors these days. I stepped in, and sure enough Randal wasn’t there. The bed was made, and his valise was sitting wide open on top of the dresser. I was sorely tempted to go through it, but if I found something incriminating I wouldn’t be able to use it in a court of law. That didn’t stop me so much as the thought that if Scott found out I snooped around without a warrant he’d skin me alive. So I left.

  I stopped at the mercantile and asked the girl behind the counter, Ellen Ray, if she’d seen Randal that day, and she said she’d caught sight of him crossing the street toward the Newport Cafe. That made sense, since it was near dinner time, so I went on over there and found Randal sitting all by himself at a table, eating a roast beef sandwich and reading a book. I hung my hat on the hat rack by the door and sat down next to him. He looked up at me like I had two heads. I figure it took him a minute to remember who I was.

  “Trenton Calder,” he said. “Would you care to join me for luncheon?”

  Since I hadn’t eaten for a couple of hours, I was peckish. “Don’t mind if I do.” I waved at Miz Newport and she waved back. She didn’t ask what I wanted. I always wanted the same thing; dark meat chicken, fried potatoes and cream gravy, and a glass of buttermilk.

  Randal closed his book and smiled. “Judging by the proprietress’ familiar greeting, I assume you’re a regular customer. This is a nice place.”

  I leaned my elbows on the table. “Regular as clockwork. I saw you in here yesterday. I was wondering why you aren’t staying out at MacKenzie’s like you did before your little side trip to Muskogee.”

  “The house was damaged by the storm, as you know. I do not wish to be a burden to Miz MacKenzie.”

  “You’re not helping Wallace fix the place up?”

  Randal sat back. “I am not a competent carpenter. What is this about, Trenton Calder?”

  “You know I’m deputy to the town sheriff, Mr. Tucker?”

  “So I have been told.” His voice sounded the littlest bit ironic.

  “Sheriff Tucker sent me over to ask you a couple of questions about the night y’all went to Muskogee after the Christian Church picnic. We just heard from the Beldons that you and Wallace come out to their place looking for Jubal that afternoon before you left town.”

  Randal kind of shrunk when I said that, but he didn’t look shocked that I knew. He picked up his fork and pushed his mashed potatoes around. “Have you asked Wallace about this?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  Miz Newport brought my dinner so we quit talking long enough for Randal to think about what he wanted to tell me. “Yes, Deputy,” he said, after she was out of earshot. “We went out there, but as I’m sure the Beldons told you, Jubal wasn’t at home. So we headed out for Muskogee and didn’t stop until we got to Wallace’s father’s house.”

  “What did y’all want with Jubal?”

  “I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Wallace was angry about the incident at the church picnic earlier.” He took a swallow of his tea and eyed me. “You were there. You saw that they exchanged words. Anyway, Jubal wasn’t there. Wallace wanted to wait for him, but we were supposed to be on our way to Muskogee so we didn’t linger. We turned around and headed right out.”

  “That’s quite a detour. The Beldon place is way out of your way if y’all were going to Muskogee. You’d have had to go right back past the MacKenzie place again on the way out. You didn’t stop in and pick up Miz MacKenzie and all leave for Muskogee together?”

  “No. The trip was a spur of the moment thing on Wallace’s part. Miz Beckie wanted to pack a few things. She told us to take the shay and she’d take the eight-thirty train in and drive the shay back when she came home in a couple of days.”

  “That seems unhandy. Wallace couldn’t wait two hours and go on the train with his grandma?”

  Randal looked away. “You know Wallace. Once he gets a thing into his head, he’s got to do it right then.” The way he said it gave me a prickle of suspicion.

  He leveled his gaze at me again. “We left the Beldons’ about six and made it in to Wallace’s father’s house in Muskogee around nine. It was well dark.”

  “I can check that timing pretty easy, you know.” I was eating chicken at the time I said it, but Randal understood me just fine.

  “I know you can.”

  “You didn’t meet Jubal on the road betwixt the farm and Muskogee?”

  “We did not.”

  “I thought y’all were going to start back out on your trip to Colorado. Why’d you end up coming back here?”

  “We changed our minds about the trip. While we were in Muskogee, we enlisted in the Army. Then Miz Beckie sent a note to her son saying her house had been damaged, and Wallace volunteered to come back and help with repairs.”

  When he said “enlisted in the Army” I near to choked to death on my drumstick. The idea of Wallace MacKenzie the Third ever obeying orders and marching in step was beyond me. And Randal was far too high-class to sport a shaved head and combat boots. “What possessed y’all to join up?” I managed.

  Randal shrugged. “You know that Congress has lately put all college men on standby in case of war, so we decided we might as well get a jump on things.”

  Not being a college man I hadn’t known that, but I pretended like I did. It did occur to me that my compadre Gee Dub Tucker was in college, but he hadn’t said a word about it. Maybe he didn’t want his ma to know.

  “When do y’all have to report for duty?”

  “A couple of weeks. We’ll leave from here and go to Fort Riley.”

  “Well, I hope this is all cleared up in time, because I reckon y’all may have to stick around until Scott figures out what happened. In fact, finish up your sandwich there, because I’m going to lock you up in the hoosegow for a spell while I go out to MacKenzie’s and question Wallace.”

  Randal looked affronted. “On what charge, Deputy?”

  “I don’t need a charge to hold you for twenty-four hours, but let’s say it’s on the charge that I don’t want you talking to Wallace before I do.”

  Alafair Tucker

  The road to town was finally passable enough for the Tuckers’ small rig, so after dinner, when the men and boys had gone back to work, Alafair rounded up Blanche, Sophronia, and Grace for a trip into town to visit Alice and see the new baby.

  That was her story, anyway. And there was certainly truth to it. The girls hadn’t met their new niece yet, and when Alafair suggested the trip at the dinner table all three of them went into paroxysms of squealing delight. Shaw didn
’t suspect that his wife might have an ulterior motive, but Mr. Eichelberger eyed her suspiciously. She paid him no mind. She couldn’t reassure him since she didn’t know herself what she was going to do.

  When Alafair and the girls left the house, Eichelberger resumed his seat on the porch and said nothing. He’s resigned to his fate, she thought, feeling guilty. Not guilty enough. She had not promised to keep Eichelberger’s revelation a secret, and he hadn’t asked her to.

  The two-mile trip to Boynton was slow going. There were still obstacles to dodge and boggy places that had to be slogged through. Fortunately, the light buggy never became so mired down that Missy couldn’t pull it out with a bit of effort.

  The girls were properly enraptured by the new baby, and while they crowded around Alice’s chair and cooed like a flock of doves, Martha drew her mother aside and told her what had happened to Scott. Mother and daughter perched on the settee with their heads together, speaking low to keep the news from shocking the children.

  Alafair’s hand went to her throat. “Oh, my, goodness! What next with this awful business? But you say he’s not hurt bad?”

  “Doc Addison says he’s barely nicked,” Martha assured her, “but he’s mighty upset about having to shoot Hosea. I walked over there an hour or so ago and spoke to Hattie. Trent has taken over for the time being. All the boys and their families are there, and Scott’s sister and dad, too. I declare, Mama, you couldn’t stuff one more person into that house.”

  Alafair wasn’t surprised to hear it. It was only natural for the family to gather around their wounded patriarch. “So! Hosea Beldon, you say. Well, that sure makes it sound like Hosea is the one who met up with Jubal in the dark of the night.”

  “It does, Ma, but now neither of them is alive to attest to it. That’s not all, either. While they were out there, Miz Beldon told them that Wallace MacKenzie and his friend had come by that evening hunting for Jubal, but he wasn’t there. Trent has gone out to question both of them about it.” Martha sat back and shook her head. “It could have been them who met Jubal. It’s quite a puzzle, what with no witness to the death.”

  Alafair eyed her look-alike eldest child and nodded, but didn’t say that she thought there may have been a witness after all. “Is Trent over at the MacKenzies’ now?”

  Martha shrugged. “I don’t know. But that’s where Wallace is, so if Trent isn’t there now he will be directly.”

  Alafair stood up. “Girls,” she called to the group huddled around Alice and the baby, “I’m going to go out to Miz

  MacKenzie’s and visit with Ruth for a little bit. Y’all stay here till I come back. Won’t be but a tick.”

  Three-year-old Grace propelled herself out off the sofa where she had wedged herself in beside Alice. “I want to go with you!” She voiced her wishes in an ear-piercing shriek, and baby Linda gave a startled wail.

  “Good gracious! All right then, you don’t need to deafen us!” Alafair picked the tot up and shot Alice an apologetic glance.

  Alice laughed at the din. New motherhood had made her imperturbable. “Go on, Ma. These two will be fine.” She nodded at Blanche and Sophronia, who didn’t even look up.

  “I’ll come with you, Ma,” Martha offered, but Alafair shook her head.

  She leaned in and murmured in Martha’s ear. “I want to have a private word with Miz MacKenzie while we’re in town.”

  Trenton Calder

  After I locked up Randal Wakefield I headed for the MacKenzie place. I was about as anxious to set eyes on Ruth as I was to question Wallace. I was champing to tell Ruth all that happened at the Beldon place. I don’t know why I was so anxious to see her after such an awful thing as what happened to Hosea and to Scott, too. The whole episode had upset me no end, and I was as eager to lay my eyes upon her face as a thirsty man is eager for water. After the long trip out to the Beldon farm that morning, old Brownie wasn’t happy about setting out again. He tugged at the reins when I rode past the stable, but I jerked his head around and he headed back out of town with an ill-natured snort. Fortunately, the MacKenzie house was just barely up the road so it didn’t take us all that long to get there.

  I could see Wallace and Coleman Welsh over around beside the house, cutting up cottonwood branches and piling them in the back of a wagon. There was a buggy parked by the front porch, so I figured Miz MacKenzie had company. I was disappointed that I probably wasn’t going to get to see Ruth, but I figured it was just as well that I didn’t have to go into the house where Miz MacKenzie could hear this. I didn’t relish the notion of having to take Wallace to jail with his grandma dragging on his leg all the way. Coleman straightened up and waved at me as I dismounted.

  When I said his name, Wallace turned around and gave me the once over. “Hello, Trent. Come to join the construction crew?”

  “I come to ask you about Jubal Beldon,” I said.

  He didn’t bat an eye. He threw another limb into the wagon. “I hear he’s dead.”

  I shot a glance at Coleman, who had stopped sawing and was listening to this exchange like his life depended on it. “Coleman,” I said, “would you give us a minute, please?”

  I could tell he didn’t want to do it. He looked at Wallace, who said, “Stay if you want, Coleman. I got nothing to hide.”

  I didn’t care. I went on. “All right then. Yes, Wallace, Jubal is dead. And I hear that you and Wakefield drove out to his place looking for him before you set out for Muskogee on Sunday night.”

  Wallace stopped tossing limbs and turned back around at that. He gave me a long look before he answered. “We did, but nothing came of it. Jubal wasn’t there, so we left and went to Dad’s. As you know.”

  “Why did you go out there, Wallace?”

  He looked down, and then up again. “I intended to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “About what?”

  “You were at the picnic. You saw the little set-to that occurred between us. It niggled at me, and I took a notion to let him know it before we left town. But when we discovered he wasn’t home, Randal pointed out that in my state of mind it was just as well that I missed him. So we took off for Muskogee.”

  “And you never saw Jubal again?”

  “I swear I did not,” Wallace assured me.

  I fell to thinking for a second. I was new to this interrogation business and didn’t quite know what to say next. I glanced at Coleman. He looked quite diverted by the situation. Finally I came out with, “I’ll tell Scott what you said. The circuit judge will be through here in a couple of days, so I’d advise y’all not to leave town until Scott says you can.”

  Wallace nodded. “I have no plans to go anywhere for the next couple of days, anyway. Why does Scott care if we made a detour before we left town?”

  I wasn’t sure how much I could tell them. “He has his reasons. He suspects that Jubal had a run-in with somebody on Sunday night that may have led to his death.”

  “Deputy,” Wallace said, “Sheriff Tucker must not take his suspicion too seriously if he sent the likes of you out to question me. Is he trying to create a crime where none exists? Or is this your idea? Why is he not here himself?”

  I heaved a sigh. Nobody could annoy me like Wallace

  MacKenzie. Wallace and Coleman listened in open-mouthed silence as I related how Hosea Beldon got shot dead and Scott sustained a wound that put me in charge of this investigation.

  When I finished my tale they looked at one another, then at me, before Coleman finally piped up. “Why on earth do you think Hosea did it, Deputy? Do you think he killed his brother?”

  “Maybe he did. Why else try to kill a lawman who ain’t even accused you of anything yet?”

  “It sounds like Hosea did think the sheriff was accusing him,” Coleman pointed out.

  “If Scott thinks Jubal’s death was unnatural, surely after what Hosea did you need look no further for your cu
lprit,” Wallace said.

  “Maybe,” I admitted. “Their ma said they were always at each other about something. Though knowing Jubal, if y’all did run across him it could have turned into a killing matter real easy.”

  “Well, it didn’t, Deputy.” Wallace pushed a hank of his yellow hair back off his forehead. “It didn’t because Randal and I never saw him again that evening. We did not stab him because we did not meet him on the road or anywhere else. I will swear it before the judge or God himself.”

  I never had a high opinion of Wallace MacKenzie. I thought he was a silly creature. But the look in his eyes when he said that to me was arrow straight. I believed him. That is until I was turning to go and it dawned on me that I hadn’t said a word to Wallace about Jubal getting stabbed.

  Alafair Tucker

  Beckie sat in one of the two armchairs in the parlor and Alalfair sat in the other with Grace in her lap. They could hear the sound of scales being played by one of Ruth’s students in the drawing room. Marva had left Coleman to his job and was banging around in the kitchen. The common, homey sounds were comforting.

  For a while she and Beckie talked of the ordinary things. How long it would be before the storm damage was repaired. Who had died and who was wounded and who had lost everything and was moving on. Which of Beckie’s students had resumed taking piano lessons. Ruth’s budding friendship with Trent Calder. Everything, Alafair noticed, except Beckie’s usual favorite topic—her grandson.

  Beckie listened dumbstruck while Alafair told her how Hosea Beldon had tried to cut Scott’s throat and ended up with a hole in his chest. Beckie was properly shocked by the information, so Alafair took some time to reassure her that Scott wasn’t hurt very badly. They spent a few moments speculating on why Hosea would have done such a thing.

  “It could have been him who killed Jubal,” Alafair offered.

  There was an inordinately long silence while Beckie digested this information. “I do declare,” she murmured. “I do declare.”