Wrong Husband Page 9

  Hiding his grin, Owen gave a slight nod. “Good because this is a special mission. You see, there are some bad men who are planning something big, and-”

  “How big?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I have to find out.” He tipped his hat back and gave the boy a good look, as if trying to make a difficult decision. “Are you any good at listening?”

  “I sure am.”

  “And can you be quiet?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “As quiet as a mouse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. Then you can be my partner.” He held his hand out. “This makes it official.”

  Excited, Amos shook his hand. “Should I bring the fishing rod?”

  Though Owen didn’t think they’d need one, he decided it might be fun if the boy had a “weapon” with him. “That’s a great idea. You never know when you’ll need something like that.”

  “I’ll be back.” The boy began to run off but then turned to ask, “You won’t leave without me, will you?”

  “No. I’ll wait.”

  While the boy went to retrieve the rod, Owen saddled up his horse. As soon as he finished, the boy returned and, sure enough, he had the fishing rod with him.

  “I don’t have a horse,” he said.

  Owen shrugged. “I got one and this saddle will fit the two of us. Hop on.”

  He obeyed and they headed off for Guy’s house. Once he had the horse tied to a tree where no one would easily spot it, the two made their way to the rundown barn.

  “Does Guy live here?” Owen whispered.

  “Sometimes. Usually, he runs off with his brother Jimmy.”

  “To do what?”

  “A little bit of gambling and running odd jobs.”

  Owen stopped to take a good look at the twelve year old. Just how much did this kid know? “You have any idea what they’d want with Clyde Jenkins?”

  “Well, my ma said that Clyde wanted his son back, but you came in the nick of time and stopped that.”

  That much Owen already knew. Still... “How does your ma know that?”

  “She cuts hair and takes in laundry. People talk to her.”

  Apparently. “You got anything else on Clyde?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. He ran off a good few years ago and now he’s back.”

  Owen nodded. At least that was something to go on.

  They reached the two-story house before the four men arrived on the land. When they saw the men, they scooted around to the side of the house so they wouldn’t be spotted.

  Once the men got into the house and slammed the door, one of them opened a window. Seeing this as a good opportunity to better hear them, Owen motioned for the boy to join him and crawled to the other end of the house.

  “It’s hotter than the pit of hell in here,” one of them gruffly said.

  “Hasn’t been lived in since June. What’d ya expect?” another replied.

  “Who cares? Let’s get down to business. We’re stuck in a rock and a hard place. How’re we gonna get out?”

  One grunted. “If Clyde’d have followed through, we’d be fine.”

  “It’s not my fault.” Obviously, that was Clyde, and the voice sounded familiar.

  Owen had to know where he’d seen Clyde before. He eased up from the ground and peeked through the open window.

  “It is your fault!” a scruffy man barked. “If that damn deputy stayed away, we’d be sittin’ pretty on our way west.”

  “Stan didn’t come through,” Clyde said.

  Alright. Now Owen knew what Clyde looked like, and he remembered seeing him before. But where? One of the men turned in his direction, so Owen quickly sat back down. His heart pounded anxiously. Did the man see him?

  “Stan didn’ come through alright. What’d ya goin’ to do ‘bout it?”

  “What can I do?” Clyde asked. “We had a deal, and he blew it. It’s not my problem anymore.”

  Another man butted in. “We got news for you, Jenkins. It’s still your problem. No money? You got problems.”

  There was a slight ruckus before someone ran up the steps.

  “After him!”

  There was a rush to obey him, and Owen wondered if everyone was upstairs. He got up and peeked into the window. The room was empty, but he heard shouts and gunshots from upstairs. Turning to the boy, Owen nodded to the fishing rod. “How good are you with that?”

  “Real good. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Think you can get that wallet over there in the middle of the room?” There was no way he was going to risk the boy going in there, and he wasn’t small enough to fit through the window.

  The boy stood up and looked through the open window. “Oh sure. That’s nothing.”

  Those men might be upstairs now, but at any moment, they were bound to return. They’d have to act fast, and he knew this would be the highlight of the boy’s day if he was the one to get the wallet. He patted the boy on the back. “Go ahead and fish it out of there, but be quick. Those men won’t stay up there forever.”

  “You think it has something important in it?”

  He shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  The boy nodded.

  Owen lifted the boy so half of his body fit into the window. The boy surprised Owen because he did, indeed, catch the wallet on the first try. “Great job,” he cheered as loud as he dared. Fortunately the gunshots and ruckus made it easy to mask any other sounds. “Now, reel it in.”

  The boy obeyed, and Owen set him back down. “That was fun!”

  “Shh...” Owen warned as he took the wallet and opened it.

  “Sorry.”

  Owen saw some debt notes and a piece of paper. He lifted the paper out and saw, Robert Scott and Farewell Bank. October 23rd. 12:30. He read the items several times before he placed the paper back into the wallet and handed it to the boy. “Throw it back in.”

  “Don’t you want to keep it?” the boy asked.

  “No. They’ll suspect something if it’s missing.” He lifted the boy and let him throw it back into the room. “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

  They made it to Owen’s horse right before two men ran out of the house. Owen hid the boy behind a tree and grabbed his gun. True, he didn’t know how to use it—at least not well enough to hit his mark—but if anyone found them, he’d give it his best shot.

  Fortunately, the two men didn’t go in their direction. They hopped on their horses and rode off. Owen breathed a sigh of relief. Good. They were safe.

  The boy peered around the tree. “Did you see the other two?”

  “No.” And that gave Owen a bad feeling. He saw Clyde leave since he was one of the men who ran out of there. He didn’t recognize the other one. He glanced at the boy. “Do you hear anything?”

  The boy shook his head.

  It shouldn’t be that quiet in there. Something was wrong. He had to investigate. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

  “Those are dangerous men in there!”

  The kid had a point—a good one—but, “I’m the deputy. It’s my job to face danger.” Even if he was scared. Irving wouldn’t be scared. He was, after all, the picture of courage, but Irving wasn’t here. Owen was. And that meant Owen had to take charge. Forcing aside his unease, he cleared his throat. “You promise me you’ll stay here and be good.”

  The boy nodded.

  Owen made his way to the house, careful to be quiet so he could hear any noise, in case he needed to hide. But no noise came. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. His hands trembled. Oh boy. This was a far cry from fishing! Wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, he renewed a firm grasp on the gun and held it out. As long as he directed it where a threat came up at him, he might hit his target...or at least scare the other man enough so he could get away. One glance in the boy’s direction assured him that the boy was still safe and out of the way.

  Owen rounded the corner of the house and gingerly stepped onto the porch. Still quiet. There were only t
wo options as to why it’d be this silent. One, the men knew he was there and were waiting for him. That thought made him tighten his grip on the Colt .45. Or, the men could be injured or dead. There had been an awful lot of gunshots while he and the boy were getting that wallet. Someone could easily have gotten hurt. He cringed. He didn’t want to see a dead body.

  Well, either way, he was about to find out. He could do this. He was pretending to be Irving Spencer. All he had to do was imitate the man. Squaring his shoulders and scowling in his best “I’m a tough man” imitation, he entered the house through the open door.

  No one was in the room. There was a battered old couch and a wooden table with two chairs. That was it for furniture, and there were no long curtains to hide behind. It was a small house. Smaller than the one he and Jenny had. Jenny. Just the thought of her beautiful smile made him second guess whether or not he wanted to risk his life like this. But he had to. He was the deputy.

  Just pretend you’re Irving and everything will be fine. Strengthened, he pressed forward. As he reached the bottom step of the narrow staircase, he remembered the wallet. Glancing over his shoulder, he realized that the wallet was gone. So one of those two men took it on their way out the door. Well, it was a good thing he thought to return it.

  He directed his gaze to the top of the stairs. Still no sound. He took his first step and ducked when he heard a noise. He waited but nothing happened. As soon as he realized that he caused the creak when he pressed his foot onto the step, he sighed with relief. Thank goodness. No one was shooting at him.

  He really needed to get a grip on being the deputy. No deputy could afford to be a chicken—cowering at the slightest noise. He looked behind him. Good. The room was still empty, and from what he could tell from looking out the two windows and door, no one had returned.

  He resumed his walk up the steps, careful to be as quiet as the old steps allowed, and paused when he reached the top. There was a narrow hallway with two rooms. There was also a broken kerosene lamp and table between the two rooms. Bullet holes marked the walls too. Yep. There had definitely been a shoot-out up here.

  He held his breath and waited. Still, no noise. They could be waiting for him in one of those bedrooms. He thought of the best way to proceed. Catching sight of a shard of glass from the lamp, he picked it up and flung it into one of the bedrooms.

  Nothing.

  So that meant the men had to be dead, right? After all, one would have shot if he was startled. At least, Owen hoped so.

  He moved forward and stopped when he reached the bedrooms, which were directly opposite one another. He noticed the blood on the floor before he saw the two men, lying face down. They didn’t move. They didn’t even blink. But their eyes were open and it spooked him. Though they were most likely dead, he had the creepy “I’m being watched” feeling.

  Giving a slight shiver, he entered the room they were in. He knew they were dead. Well, he was 99% sure. But he knew he had to check. Blood seeped out of their sides and chest. One was even shot in the neck. He fought the urge to vomit. He’d never seen so much blood in his entire life, except for when he gutted fish...and that was a completely different scenario than the one confronting him now.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Big mistake. Now he was aware of the foul smell permeating from the bodies. He quickly ran over to the window and opened it. He leaned out and inhaled the fresh air. There was nothing like the cool autumn breeze to calm a man’s stomach. He caught sight of the boy and waved to him. Then, in case the other two decided to return, he indicated that he was alright.

  The boy nodded and, thankfully, stayed put.

  Owen braced himself for the images of the men and turned to face them. The second time looking at them wasn’t much easier than the first. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, he quickly made his way over to them and tapped them with his foot. Neither one budged. That was enough proof for him. He wasn’t about to feel for a pulse. He couldn’t imitate Irving that well yet!

  Relieved, he raced out of the house to notify the sheriff about this turn of events.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two hours later, Jenny was working on a baby gown for one of the better well-to-do new mothers in town when a loud rapping at the door made her bolt in surprise. She accidently pricked her finger with the needle.

  “Ouch.” She sucked on her finger and set aside the thimble and clothing so she could answer the door.

  Jeremy got up from where he was playing with his toys and followed her.

  Jenny’s heart raced at the rapid pounding at the door. Did something happen to Owen or one of her siblings? There was no denying that whoever was on the other end considered their visit to be an emergency.

  “Who is it, Ma?”

  “I don’t know, honey.” She could have checked through the window, but she didn’t want to waste the extra couple of seconds that it would require. She opened the door and gasped when she saw Clyde’s mother standing in front of her with a scowl on her face.

  “My son is not a killer!” the woman yelled before Jenny could speak.

  Jenny wasn’t sure she heard right. “What?”

  The woman barged into the house, pushing past both Jenny and Jeremy. “Where’s that no good husband of yours?”

  Jenny put her hands over Jeremy’s ears. “I will not have you talking about Irving that way, especially not in front of his son.”

  “Irving Spencer is not—” she motioned to Jeremy—“that child’s father.”

  Her face grew hot with anger. “His name is Jeremy.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

  Of course not! The woman didn’t care one single bit about her own grandchild. Jenny turned to her son and said, “Go upstairs and play with your toys. And close the door.” He didn’t need to hear anything else that viper of a woman had to say. “Ma has to take care of some things, alright?”

  He nodded and obediently went up the stairs.

  Jenny waited until he closed the door before she glared at Clyde’s mother. “You have no right to barge into my home.”

  The woman crossed her arms. “Well, that fool husband of yours has no right to accuse Clyde of murder.”

  “Murder?”

  “And don’t think for a minute that I can’t connect the dots, missy.” She pointed her finger in Jenny’s face. “You managed to weasel your way out of letting Clyde be with his son, and now you’re using your husband—who just happens to be the deputy—to put Clyde away for good.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh really? You mean to tell me you don’t know that Sheriff Meyer arrested Clyde?”

  “No. But if he did, then Clyde deserved it.”

  The woman huffed. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d say that. You’ve had it in for Clyde ever since you first laid eyes on him.”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you again.” Jenny stormed over to the door and pointed outside. “Get out of here!”

  “Not until you release Clyde.”

  “That’s not my decision!” Glaring at the woman, she flung her hand toward the doorway and hit something solid. She quickly looked at what she smacked and saw Owen. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Humph!” Clyde’s mother grumbled. “I don’t care if you are the deputy, Irving Spencer. You have no right to go around arresting anyone just because this hussy exchanges sexual favors for you to do her dirty work.”

  Jenny gasped.

  “Now, that’s out of line,” Owen snapped. “Jenny’s my wife and I won’t have you talking about her that way. Just what has you fit to be tied anyway?”

  “You know,” she replied. “You got my boy arrested.”

  “I’ve gotten three men arrested since I got here. Which ‘boy’ are you referring to?”

  “Clyde Jenkins. The one you just tossed into jail!”

  “Well, someone killed Guy and Jimmy, and Clyde and Jos
hua were the only ones there at the house. I saw all of them with my own eyes, and I heard the gunshots. The sheriff wants to hold him long enough to find out if he killed Guy or Jimmy. They’re still looking for Joshua. If Clyde’s innocent, he’ll go free.”

  “No!” the woman protested, frantically shaking her head. “I order you to release him at once. He’s innocent!”

  “The law doesn’t work that way. I saw Clyde in that house. I know he was there.”

  “This is personal,” she insisted. “It has nothing to do with the law.” She glared at Jenny. “Isn’t it enough that you won’t let me or my son near his own child? Must you frame him for murder too?”

  “Keep Jenny out of this,” Owen said, standing in front of Jenny as if to protect her. “It has nothing to do with her.”

  “You don’t want to see Jeremy anymore than Clyde does,” Jenny hissed, edging around Owen so she could approach the old coot. “Just why is Clyde so interested in Jeremy all of the sudden anyway?”

  She lifted her chin and crossed her arms. “He’s always been interested. It’s just that you refused to have anything to do with him. You seduced him until you got with child, and then your brothers chased him out of town. He wanted to do right by you and marry you, but you wouldn’t let him. None of you would. And now you’re determined to put him away for good, if he doesn’t get hanged first.”

  “Clyde shouldn’t have been hanging around where he didn’t belong.” Jenny glanced at Owen. “What happened?”

  “A shoot-out, most likely.”

  She turned back to Clyde’s irate mother. “There you go. What was he doing in a shoot-out anyway?” Something was wrong with the whole picture, and Jenny wished she could figure it out. There was no way Clyde would take a sudden interest in Jeremy. And now he was having a shoot-out with... “Who did you say got killed?” she asked Owen.

  “Guy and Jimmy.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Guy and Jimmy Ike?”

  He nodded.

  She rolled her eyes. “No wonder Clyde got put into prison if he was hanging around those shady characters.” She turned to the woman. “Aren’t you aware that Guy and Jimmy are...I mean, were...dangerous? If Clyde was with them, then he was up to no good.” And just what did that have to do with Jeremy? Was there a connection or was it a coincidence?