Oklahoma's Gold (21 page)

"That's what we were hoping," Daniel commented.

She reached over and patted his hand affectionately. "And I will let you know, if I find anything." Miss Emma then straightened up and pointed a finger at the both of them. Her voice became stern. "Now. What's this I hear about a runaway truck?"

"I should have known you'd find out." Daniel shook his head. "I was hoping to keep you from worry."

"Quit treatin' me like some old, frail, lily-livered woman with one foot in the grave, Daniel Ross." She stomped her foot. "I'm a lot stronger than you give me credit for. Now, tell me," she ordered.

So Daniel related the events of their trip back from town, including Cattleman T's generous and timely assistance.

"Well, we'll just have to send over one of Cora's special crumb cakes to say thanks." Emma made a mental note to remind Cora later. "So, who do you think did it?"

Daniel and Jess looked puzzled.

"Cut the brake line!" Her patience thin, she barked at them.

"Oh. Well, we haven't any idea. Only that it wasn't an accident. That I'm sure of," Daniel answered.

She smacked the arms of her rocker. "We've got to find him, kids! Whoever's been causin' us all so much grief, and now tryin' to kill anyone who gets in his way, has got to be stopped." She practically shouted.

Jess could feel the woman's driving force of energy infect her own body. "You're right, Miss Emma. This person is a dangerous enemy. I felt that the night of my attack."

She leaned forward, intently focused on both of them. "We need to be very careful, though. Very, very careful." She got up once more and began pacing back and forth. "Now, is there anything else you're keepin' from me to protect my frailty?" she asked sarcastically.

Daniel and Jess immediately glanced at one another. Of course, Emma caught the gesture and pounced on it. "Sakes almighty, what have you two been up to?"

"It started at the library where we found the journal." Daniel and Jess went on to describe how Joseph had attacked Daniel and how they'd found the hidden journal when the bookshelf practically fell over, sending its contents to the floor, all during the fight.

"Well, in a way, I guess we have Joseph to thank for this," she said, looking down at her mother's possession. "Mr. Whitedeer seems to be in a world of hurt. And I do feel sorry for him, although he did bring much of this on himself."

From the way she stared at the journal, a far away, distant look in her eyes, Jess couldn't help but wonder if her reference was to someone else besides Joseph. It was amazing though at how well she was holding up, not letting this latest bombshell crack her tough exterior.

Ghosts from the past that came back to haunt you. She was certain it would happen to her. After all, her parents had left suddenly, too. Only for a different reason. Of course, Jess was wise enough to know that to a child there's a difference between leaving voluntarily and the way she had lost hers. As a child you can't help but internalize, feel like you're the cause. Yet, in both cases, you feel lonely and hurt. You want to blame someone, anyone, for your loss. Even if it's to blame yourself. Jess suspected that even now, as an older woman, Emma attempted to distribute that blame to whomever she could, desperate not to bare it all. There was still that vulnerable child in her, and in all of them. She suddenly reached out and hugged Emma who reacted at first in surprise, but then as if reading a familiar thought in Jess' eyes, she hugged her back.

Cora entered the room to announce dinner. None of them could believe it was six-thirty already. They were exhausted, and though a hot, home-cooked meal seemed more than inviting, no one attempted to rise from their seat.

"Well, landsakes! I'm sure to feel insulted, if you all don't come to dinner," Cora declared with hands on hips, then turned to march back to the kitchen. "Five minutes!" she called out.

Though she was hired help, Cora knew just when to give that extra push, especially where Emma was concerned. The two of them had confronted on plenty of their own private battlefields during the past twenty-some years. Nothing their friendship couldn't endure, though sometimes in the world, if only for brief moments, they felt all they had was each other. Nothing or no one would come between them. They counted on each other like the sun rising every morning. So, of course Emma was the first to get out of her seat and head for the dining room.

With a sigh, Daniel and Jess followed and nearly reached the doorway when a tap on the window caused Daniel to stop and turn around. He could see Stanton peering through the panes of glass. Recognizing Daniel, his eyes widened and he motioned frantically to call him outside. Both Daniel and Jess walked over to the window and opened it to hear whatever Stanton had to say.

"You must come quick!" the young boy pleaded in a hurried whisper. "It's Joseph Whitedeer," he added. In the next second, he started down the porch stairs and turned back to see if they would follow. Just to make sure, he yelled over his shoulder, "He's dead!"

Chapter 34

By the time they got to the small, rundown white house on the west end of town, it seemed the entire population of Chickasha had gathered on the street. Everyone pressed against the barricade of yellow police tape and wooden horses hurriedly put together by Caleb and a few of the men he had deputized. He had also called for assistance from the homicide division in Lawton.

As Daniel looked on, those closest to the scene strained their necks to try and get a look inside every time someone entered or exited the front door. All waited for some answers.

Daniel looked down at Stanton, puzzled. "How did you know?"

The boy looked up at his uncle, wide-eyed with both fear and excitement. "The shaman," he answered simply.

Jess felt a chill run through her as she speculated on what Stanton implied. She didn't believe in superstition. Scientific facts and reasoning were her way of explaining things.

Sensing the tension and fear coming from Jess and even Emma, Daniel quickly began speaking in Cherokee to the boy. The conversation was intense, and though the women couldn't understand their words, they gained a lot from their expressions, especially Daniel's look of grave concern. He glanced at them every second or so, and when the conversation ended, his eyes settled warily on the Whitedeer house.

"Daniel? What is it?" Emma prodded. "What do you know?"

Daniel shook his head. "Nothing really." He turned his back to Stanton and lowered his voice, "Seems they got their shaman. He's been up in the mountains, calling on stronger powers, spiritual beings to help solve our, ah, Indian problem." He looked almost embarrassed as he explained, but then his expression turned serious. "Supposedly, someone who had gone to the mountain earlier today to speak with the shaman came back with interesting news. The spirits had warned him there would be a death. The death would be swift. And one who was 'fleet of foot' and 'white as snow' would be touched by the darker spirit as it took away his life."

"Whitedeer," Jess whispered.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Daniel nodded.

"Nonsense." Emma protested, but at the same time looked with renewed interest at the house. She considered what they all were thinking. How could the shaman know? It had to be coincidence, right? Still, they had that one spark of doubt. Without knowing exactly what happened to Joseph, none of them could make that leap where the Old World of spirits and medicine men relied on insurmountable faith, which modern man found difficult to possess. In a day and age when skepticism reigned, where great political leaders and even religious leaders were hung out to dry, publicly crucified for any human failing revealed, faith of any kind was sorely tested. And though Chickasha was a tiny burg tucked away in the vast plains of Oklahoma, its people felt that prevailing mood of doubt of the unknown, intangible forces the shaman would have them believe in. So, they stood there in the cool Oklahoma evening, waiting for answers that made sense.

Caleb was shouting to a Mr. Higgins who seemed to be the one in charge of the Lawton homicide division. Though shouting about what, none of them seemed able to discern. Just about that moment, a stretcher was being carried out the front door by two other law enforcers. The body of Joseph was covered from head to toe with a sheet. As they carefully made their way down the stairs and through the trash-ridden lawn, a woman came running and screaming down the sidewalk. It was Maria Whitedeer. Caleb and Mr. Higgins attempted stopping the hysterical widow, but she flailed at them with her hands and a heavy handbag with such force that she finally got through. She reached the stretcher, and before anyone could stop her, threw back the sheet to reveal a very dead Joseph Whitedeer.                    

Everyone, including Daniel, Jess and Emma, could now see the bloodied face of the body. It seemed there was a dark gaping hole above one temple where a bullet had entered. Blood had darkened and crusted all along the side and trailed down to his neck. The eyes were still open, wide and staring.

Sobbing and wiping clear her tear-drenched face, Maria bent down and kissed her husband's cheek, and then with her trembling hand, she reached up to close his eyes.           

For a brief moment, all was quiet as everyone watched the tragic scene and what should have been a private moment for Maria and Joseph. Many still strained their necks to get a closer look at the body, and unbelievably one even had a camera, which now snapped to take a picture.

It must have been that sound which seemed to make Maria suddenly aware that other people were there around her. No longer the quiet, grieving widow, she turned to glare at them and with extreme anger in her voice she warned, "You … you all will pay. This town killed my husband. You are all murderers. Murderers!" She lunged forward, hands out to claw at the first person in her path. She screamed and moaned as Caleb and Higgins managed to pin her down to the ground. She was so strong it took a third person to handcuff her, finally putting her out of harm's way.

Some looked on, wide-eyed in surprise, while others turned away, starting to feel the guilt of their intrusion. The one who took the picture set the camera down at Maria's feet and muttered an apology before walking away.

Caleb, now extremely frustrated with the situation, shouted, "Go home! Everybody just get out. This ain't no three ring circus." For once Caleb Gentry's authoritative manner seemed to work. The crowd slowly began to disperse. The only ones who stayed behind were the authorities and, of course, Daniel, Jess, Emma and Stanton. Caleb turned around; finding them there, he began to scowl. "I believe I told everyone to leave," he stated in a very calm voice, yet his eyes were seething with anger.

The look didn't seem to rattle Daniel any, Jess noticed. Instead, he asked, "Didn't you want to speak with us about our little scuffle with Joseph at the library?"

"I did," he nodded, "but right now I'm kinda busy, you see." The smirk on his face implied he felt in control once more and that he'd just put Daniel in his place. Nor did he seem ready to share anything about this moment with anyone. It was police business; they weren't welcome.

Still, Daniel had to try. "So, does it look like a suicide, or could it be foul play?" he asked.

"We can't divulge that or anything else about the case while it's under investigation," Caleb responded in a formal tone. "That is privileged information." He stepped aside to go around them to his squad car. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have work to do."

By this time, Stanton had sneaked over to the stretcher. He took one quick glance at the body and then kept going until he reached the front door. No one was watching, so he took a couple steps into the living room. Oddly enough, he found the furniture and belongings strewn about, thrown, it seemed, here and there. Maybe a fight, he speculated. Nearby the one chair, he noticed a gun lying on the floor, and something else. Stanton couldn't quite make it out at first. It was small and white. He didn't dare take another step closer. That would put him farther away from his only means of escape, should someone catch him. But he sorely wanted to know what that object was.