Taming of Jessi Rose (36 page)

He kept trying to turn his head to see if Two Shafts were on his way back with the skunk.

“Will you write all that down and sign it?” Griff asked.

“Yes!” he cried, “yes!” Percy sounded as if he were about to start blubbering like a child. “Dig me out, please! I've had enough!”

Griffin stood and picked up a shovel. As he lifted out the first of the dirt, he swore Percy had tears in his eyes.

Jessi went back in the house once the hole had been
partially emptied. She'd no desire to witness Percy being freed because she was certain it would not be a pretty sight. He'd been in that hole all day.

The men let Percy wash up at the pump and between them found a full set of clothes for him to wear as replacements for the fouled set he'd come out of the hole wearing. After he was fed, Percy wrote out his version of what happened the night Dexter Clayton was gunned down, and that Darcy paid him to handle the murderous deed.

When he was done, everyone appeared satisfied, except for Percy, of course, who snarled, “I hope to high hell you people get what you deserve.”

Neil and Shafts hustled him back outdoors, trussed him up like a steer again, and left him lying on the back porch.

After dark, confident that Percy would be fine until they returned, Jessi and the others rode into town for the plates. The town was quiet, and as they hitched their horses to the post outside the bank, Jessi realized that they probably looked like a gang of outlaws who'd come to rob the place.

Ros's keys worked like magic. The inside of the bank was as dark and quiet as outdoors. Preacher struck a match and brought a lamp to life. They used its light to guide the way to Reed's office door. The big floor safe was up under his desk, and as the men snaked it out, Griffin said, “Feels like old times.”

They grinned in response.

Jessi recited the combination of numbers Ros said would open the safe. The plates were inside, just as he and Minerva had said they'd be. Because of the dim lighting, no one could tell whether the piles of money stacked inside were real or counterfeit. It didn't much matter. They were after the plates.

Jessi tucked the plates in the pillow slip she'd brought
along, then watched as the men struggled to fit the heavy iron safe back underneath the desk. When that was accomplished, they made their way quickly back to the door. They were riding back to the Clayton ranch a blink of an eye later.

“So Roscoe burned down the hotel?” Griffin asked Jessi, as they sat on the porch after their return. The Twins and Preacher had gone on to bed. They'd had quite a full day.

“Yep, and said he intended to take a hammer to Reed's printing press.”

“Why would he burn down his own father's hotel?”

“He saw it as a way of getting back at him.”

“Why doesn't he just move away? It isn't as if he were a child anymore. Didn't you say you, he, and Doyle are all about the same age?”

“Yes, we are.”

“If he moves away and starts life somewhere else, he can become whoever he wants to be. Call himself Abe Lincoln, if he wants. Life is too short to be unhappy.”

“Maybe you can talk with him.”

“Nope. The last thing a drunk wants to hear is a lecture on being drunk. If he wants to turn his life around, he will.”

Jessi didn't know if she agreed with him not talking to Ros, but she did agree that in order for Ros's life to change, he had to change it himself. No one else could do it for him. “Now that we have the plates, what's next?”

“I figure Reed's going to come stomping into my office as soon as he's back in town and we'll play it by ear. This will be his last day of freedom though. Between the plates and the signed statements by Minerva and Percy, he'll be lucky to see another sunrise.”

“Are you going to take him in?”

“Yep. After I lock him up, I'll wire Dix up in Indian
Territory. Hope he's back from California by now. If not, I'll hand him over to Preacher and he can escort both he and Percy up to Judge Parker at Fort Smith.”

“You wouldn't want to turn them in yourself?”

“I would, but I'd have to leave you to do that, and I don't want to.”

She searched his face. “You can go. Joth and I will be here when you get back.”

“Nope. I'm staying put. I kind of like being a family man.”

Jessi cupped his bearded cheek. “I kinda like you.”

“Good, because when I say, ‘Until death do us part,' I'll mean every word.”

He kissed her then, softy and sweetly, and sent her on in to bed.

 

Griffin was right. Reed Darcy came storming into the sheriff's office the next morning with steam rolling out of his ears. He looked around at the Twins, Griffin, and the Preacher, then barked, “What the hell is this about you jailing my foreman Clem Davis?”

“Who told you that?” Griffin asked calmly.

“It doesn't matter. Is it true?”

“The deputies and I questioned him about some things, then let him go.” In many ways, that was true.

“What did you question him about, because he's missing.”

“This and that, but mostly about Dexter Clayton's killing.”

Darcy went still. “Sheriff Hatcher said it was an accident, and I agreed.”

“Jessi and Joth didn't.”

For the first time since entering, he did not seem to have a ready reply. Finally he asked, “And what did he have to say?”

“Nothing that concerns you right now. Did you say he was missing?”

“Him and my daughter-in-law.”

Two Shafts replied, “Maybe they ran off together.”

Reed shot him a look that normally quelled lesser men, but Two Shafts held the gaze easily.

“Minerva wouldn't just run off.”

“We'll ask around. Maybe someone's seen her.” Darcy would know everything he needed to know at the appropriate time.

Darcy wasn't through, it seemed. “You should've never won that election. We've got people missing, and where were you and your deputies when that gang broke into my bank last night?”

“No one reported a robbery to us,” Neil spoke up in their defense. “How much money did they get?”

“They didn't steal money.”

“Well, what else is there in a bank to steal?”

“They took some personal items,” he amended hastily.”

Griffin had a decidedly puzzled look on his face. “What kind of personal items? I can't conduct an investigation if I don't what I'm trying to recover.”

“They're family items, heirlooms from my grandfather.”

“Oh, really? I thought you might be looking for these.” Griffin opened the pillow slip on his desk and took out the two plates.

Reed's eyes went wide as a harvest moon. “How'd you get those?”

“So they are yours, then?”

“No, no,” he denied hastily. “They belong to a friend of mine.”

“You do know these are plates for printing counterfeit bills?”

“No, really?”

“Aw, Cheno,” Neil declared, “Just lock him up before he makes us all sick.”

Two Shafts told Darcy, “Do we really look that stupid to you? I agree with Neil, lock him up and save our delicate sensibilities.”

Griffin grinned. “Well, Mr. Darcy, what do you think?”

“You can't arrest me. I have friends in high places who wouldn't stand for it.”

“Do they know you've been paying your debts with money you're printing in your son's barn?”

Darcy's eyes widened further.

“Yep, we know all about that, too. Your son's been real helpful these past few days.”

“What do you mean?”

Preacher said, “He's the one who gave us the key to the bank and the numbers for your safe.”

“
What?
”

“He even told us who burned down your hotel.”

“Who?”

“He did.”

This time he yelled even louder. “
What?
”

“Yep, he's been real helpful.”

“So, are you going into the lock-up peacefully, or are you going to need assistance?” Griff asked.

“I'm not going to jail, to hell with all of you. You don't have the authority to arrest me or to confiscate my property.”

“I thought you said the plates weren't yours?”

Darcy went silent.

Griffin came from behind the desk and walked over to where Darcy stood. “Now, Mr. Darcy, I know you can count money, but let's see if you can read.”

“Read what?”

“My badge. What's it say?”

“Why in the world do I need to do that? It's a tin plated sheriff's star.”

“Humor me, Mr. Darcy. Read the words aloud.”

An exasperated Reed said, “United States Deputy…” His voice trailed off and he stared at the men in the office as if he'd never seen them before.

Griff said, “I think this star gives me all the authority I need, don't you? Take him away, boys.”

The grinning Twins escorted the still stunned Darcy to the back room that held the office's lone cell.

Once word got out that Reed Darcy had been jailed, so many people stopped by to ogle him, Griff thought he was a circus attraction. Griffin let them look. After Darcy's arrogant and violence-filled reign, being stared at like a dog-faced boy would go a long way in deflating his superior opinion of himself. Griffin thought the people Darcy had tried to swindle and burn out of their homes deserved to know that justice had prevailed. He let them look their fill, but he drew the line at letting the Twins sell popcorn to add further excitement to the event.

Jessi spent her day keeping an eye on the trussed-up Percy and wondering what was going on in town. She knew this was supposed to be the day that Darcy went to jail and she'd dearly wanted to go into town and watch the scene unfold, but someone had to stay with Percy and she supposed she'd been the logical choice. However, the waiting and not knowing if Griff had been successful or not made for a long day.

Later, a man Jessi did not know rode up to the ranch. He introduced himself as Deputy Marshal Dixon Wildhorse.

“Pleased to meet you,” a surprised Jessi said as she invited him in. “Griffin's in town. Thank you so much for sending him to us. He's been a godsend.”

The tall, dark-skinned marshal nodded. “He's been helpful, then?”

“Very.”

“I'm glad. How's my young friend Joth?”

“He's in town, visiting. I hope you'll stay long enough for him to see you. He'd be quite disappointed if he didn't get to thank you personally for answering his letter.”

“I will be. So what has happened since Griffin's arrival?”

They sat in the kitchen and Jessi told him the story.

When she ended, the marshal said, “Griffin has been busy, hasn't he? And he was elected sheriff?”

“Yes, fair and square.”

Dix seemed amazed. “Well, I can't wait to see him and offer my congratulations for a job well done.”

“He didn't do it alone, he had help.”

“From whom?”

“Preacher Vance Bigelow and the Twins.”

He went still. “You aren't talking about Neil July and his Comanche brother. Two Shafts, are you?”

“Yes, I am. Do you know them?”

The marshal gave her a pointed look as he responded, “As a matter of fact, I do. They're wanted up in Indian Territory for a list of offenses a mile long and two miles wide.”

“Oops,” Jessi said.

“Are they here?”

Jessi shook her head. “No, they're in town. They're Griffin's deputies.”

“The Twins are wearing stars?” he shouted.

Jessi nodded hesitantly. “They've been most helpful, too. Most helpful.”

The marshal looked genuinely upset. “Take me to them.”

“I can't. I'm watching a prisoner.”

“What prisoner?”

Not certain of the marshal's mood, now that he knew the Twins were involved, she took him to the back porch to see Percy.

The trussed-up criminal took one look at the marshal and his eyes went wide as saucers. “Marshal Wildhorse?”

“Well, hello, Percy.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yes, we do. Percy's wanted up in Indian Territory for bootlegging. Aren't you?”

“Yes, I am, so please take me with you when you go back. I'll stand trial, do whatever you want, just get me away from here.”

The marshal turned to Jessi and he appeared very confused, so Jessi explained, “He had to play with the Twins yesterday.”

“Ah. What did he do?”

“Gunned down my father, on Darcy's orders. The Twins got him to confess.”

“I'd've confessed to killing Ol' Abe to get out of that hole,” Percy exclaimed.

Jessi then explained the game. When she finished, the marshal chuckled.

For Jessi, just thinking back on how comical Percy had looked with only his head above ground made her smile all over again. She'd never seen anything like that in her whole life. The Terrible Twins were terrible indeed.

“So that's why he's so anxious to leave here. Can't much blame him,” Dix said.

He looked down at Percy and said, “Miss Clayton and I have to go to town. I want your word that you'll be here when we return.”

“Don't worry, Marshal. Just don't hand me over to those lunatics!”

“Be here when we return and I promise I won't. If you go back on your word, I'll have the Twins track you down.”

Percy shivered as if that fate chilled his bones.

Jessi and the marshal rode off for town.

There was so much activity and people milling around, you'd've thought it was Juneteenth. A long line of folks stretched from the sheriff's office and down the street, but Jessi couldn't imagine why.

“What's going on here?” Wildhorse asked Jessi.

She shrugged. “I've no idea. Maybe we'll find out once we're inside.”