The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1) - Page 98

Alexander

* * *

The next morning, we woke to clear skies and five feet of new snow. Harley hitched the horses to the snowplow, and the two of us went into town. We cleared our driveway and the road that led to town. He dropped me at the sheriff’s office, promising to return for me after he plowed the streets of town.

Through the window of the sheriff’s office, I spotted Lancaster asleep with his feet up on the desk. I startled him awake when I burst through the door.

“What? What the hell, Barnes? You scared me.”

I hid how pleasing that was to me with a quick apology. “I’ve got some information for you.” The sheriff’s office also contained our jail, which consisted of a small cell behind steel bars. Most of the time, it remained empty. Today was no exception.

“You know, Barnes, your obsession with Cole’s death has become tedious. Aren’t you busy enough seducing the schoolteacher to let this alone?”

I’ve never wanted to punch someone as badly in my life. “Keep Miss Cooper out of this.”

He shrugged. “Everyone knows she’s living with you. Tongues wag, you know. Most folks think she’s no better than a common whore at this point.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “Every parent in this town loves her.”

“Not what I hear from the boys down at Carter’s.”

“We’ve already established their lack of moral character,” I said, “when they wanted a man dead for marrying the woman he loved.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “I’ve got a game over at the saloon in a few minutes.”

I laid out the entire

story. “We have her at the house and have no intention of sending her home to that murderer. I hope you’ll take it seriously this time and go out and question him.”

Lancaster took one of his rolled cigarettes from his pocket. “See here, Barnes. It’s not our job to take a young one from her father.”

“Her father killed Samuel Cole. She has bruises from beatings. He hunts her like an animal.” I gestured toward his unlit cigarette. “He burns her with his cigarettes. Isn’t that cause enough?”

He struck a match against the rough desk and lit his cigarette. “We don’t know all that to be true.” He took a deep drag, then let out the smoke as if we had all the time in the world. I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.

“Thing is, no one here cares about how Cole died. As far as I’m concerned, a man has the right to do with his daughter whatever he pleases. Also, it seems to me that this is nothing more than coincidence. We have no evidence it was his gunshots that killed Cole.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re going to do nothing about this?”

“Can’t say as there’s much to do.”

“Listen here, you can arrest me, but I’m not letting Louisa go home to a man who thinks it’s a funny game to hunt his own child.”

He laughed the phlegmy snigger of a heavy smoker. “Barnes, what happens between you and Kellam is your own business. You think you can steal his kid and get away with it, then by all means, take your chances.”

I leaned over the desk and snatched the foul cigarette from his mouth. “Listen here, you son of a bitch.” I put the cigarette out on the sleeve of his cowskin jacket. He flinched as the tip burned a hole through the thick material. I pulled back before it burned his skin, even though I would have loved to see him yelp in pain. Tossing the cigarette aside, I drew closer, inches from his face. “You can bet your corrupt ass I’m going to take my chances. As far as you go—I’d suggest you start thinking about a different town to do absolutely nothing in but drink whiskey and play cards. This is my town. The people in it deserve a fair sheriff.”

“What exactly are you going to do about it? I was sent out here by the governor. He’s a friend of mine, Barnes. We go way back. Unlike you, we belong in America.”

“Let me put it to you this way. When I offer a large donation to the cause of his choice, I have a feeling he’ll do exactly what I want.” I straightened, unable to stomach his rank breath for another moment. “Start packing your bags.”

“Get out,” he said through gritted teeth.

“With pleasure.” I shoved a pile of newspapers across his desk. “Burn in hell, Lancaster.”

Back home, I told Quinn and Jasper about my interaction with the sheriff.

“I can’t believe a man of the law would behave this way,” Quinn said.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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