But maybe they’d been so conditioned to the stench of heat and one another that they’d never noticed, and maybe decay had happened fast....
Three skulls lay in the pile of remains. Femurs stuck out, rib bones seemed strewn about.
It no longer seemed tragic, not the way finding the newly dead could be. It was still terribly sad.
“I’ll see that they’re removed,” Newsome told Sloan. “I’ll take all the proper measures, do what we can to identify the remains and arrange for burial. I just thought you should see this.”
“Yeah, I’m glad to see it,” Sloan said. “I think we’ve managed to solve the past, and what a kick in the ass to oral history and legend. Brendan Fogerty wasn’t a good guy at all. He was probably the mastermind pulling all the strings. Just his bad luck McNulty up and died without letting his partner know how to find the gold.” He looked at Newsome. “But we have no clue as to where the gold did wind up, right? And what about the stagecoach?”
“The stagecoach might well have rotted to nothing over the years. And bones of dead horses have been found in the desert throughout time,” Newsome reminded him. “Or they could’ve been rescued by ranchers or Apaches.”
“Let’s hope so,” Logan muttered.
Sloan nodded. “Yeah, but that gold is somewhere,” he said. “And I believe someone is after it now.”
“Your men are still searching here?” Logan asked Newsome.
“Yes, but it’s not an easy task. I don’t want my people risking their lives in a possible cave-in.”
“I know, and we don’t want to see anyone injured, either.”
“You believe there are a number of people involved in this?” Newsome asked, turning to Sloan.
“At least two. There were two people in the Hough house,” Sloan said. “According to the son.”
“Later today I’ll have DNA results back from those glasses you pilfered from the theater the other night,” Newsome said. “Just remember, unless any of them show up in the system, I need something to check them against. I have the bottle you found in here, but that’s all I have.”
“Appreciate it,” Sloan told him.
“It’s my job. But you know your town way better than I do, Sloan.”
“I thought I knew the town,” Sloan said. “Now—” He broke off and shrugged. “We’ll find out what’s going on. I was a lucky bastard in Texas. I was never part of an unsolved murder case. I’m not going to be part of one here, either.” As he spoke, his phone rang. To his surprise, it was Jennie Layton.
He stepped back. “Jennie? You okay?”
“I’m improving and they say I can leave. Maybe tomorrow. But, Sloan, I’m afraid to leave. I keep remembering things.”
“You do?”
She lowered her voice. “Sloan, can you come see me? I’m feeling uneasy.”
“I’ll come over right now, Jennie,” he promised. “I have to ride back in and get a car, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you. There’s just...” Her voice fell to a whisper he could barely make out. “There’s something going on here, Sloan. I can just feel it. Something’s going to happen. Something bad.”
14
Jane sat on the floor with Kelsey, carefully reading the note left behind by Trey Hardy.
They know, I’m sure, that I overheard them talking. I don’t believe they will let me come to trial. They suspect that I will use what I have overheard to save my life before a circuit judge. I know this just as I know what will transpire. They leave the jail and speak to one another about their intentions in the alley between my window and the theater, and they have seen my face when they look at me.
There is nowhere to turn. The sheriff and the deputy are both involved. I have lived hard and recklessly; I have seen the fall of the South—and known that we were often wrong. What becomes of me will not be just, and yet it will be deserved because I took the law into my own hands. May God help me. I practiced no cruelty. I killed during the war in the name of a Cause, but never killed at any other time in my life. What comes my way I will accept.
But I fear now for Sage; she has been to see me many times, a dear friend, a skilled actress, and mother and wife. They will kill me before my trial. I pray that someone else might find this letter, stop the crime those conspirators have planned, and see to her safety.
Their plan is that they can surprise the stagecoach. A sheriff and his deputy riding up will not cause alarm. They will murder those on the coach and hide their bodies in the desert; they have no fear of reprisal. They will hide the gold and let time go by, let it be forgotten. Then they will remove it from its hiding place, divide it and make haste across the border. The robbery will remain a legend, and they will invent some story to explain the disappearances of so many—including themselves.
God help us. Pray for all sinners.
Trey Hardy
Jane looked at Kelsey. “This is so tragic. I’m halfway in love with this poor dead outlaw!”
Kelsey nodded, trying to shove a piece of plaster back onto the wall.