Oklahoma's Gold (22 page)

Just as he decided to brave the move, a back door opened, letting in a rush of the evening breeze. It fluttered a napkin resting on the coffee table and it moved the white object next to the gun, bringing it to rest at Stanton's feet.
Paper
. His heart beat accelerated.
A folded piece of paper
. He quickly bent over to pick it up, and at that moment, footsteps sounded in the kitchen, getting louder as they came his way.

"What the hell are you doin' in here, boy?"

Stanton recognized the homicide detective, who now appeared very irritated and angry with him. The young intruder turned and ran out of the house, the folded paper crumpled in his fist. He ran at breakneck speed, jumping and hurdling any debris along the way. Though looking down most of the time caused him to plow straight into Daniel and nearly knocked him over.

"Whoa there!" Daniel exclaimed, taking hold of his nephew's shoulders. "What's the big hurry?"

"I, I," the boy stammered, totally out of breath.

"He was trespassin'. That's what." Higgins finally came up behind them. He looked down at Stanton and in a patronizing tone lectured, "You should’ve known better, son. This here is a police restricted area. And besides, you might have contaminated the crime scene," he finished, while Stanton then proceeded to look deep in thought over the detective’s harsh words.

Higgins then looked up at the rest of them. "You all really need to leave the premises now and let us get on with our work." He stood there, waiting until they all turned to leave.

Stanton held his breath, hoping the detective hadn't noticed anything curious about his closed fist. He had read that the police, especially detectives, had really good senses for noticing everything. As they turned the corner though, he took a deep breath. He'd gotten lucky. As they walked to the parked truck he was wondering what, if anything, was written on the paper. He wanted badly to read it himself before turning it over to Daniel, but common sense told him to give it to his uncle, now.

"Uncle Daniel? Here. I found this in the house." He held out the crumbled, white paper for the man to take.

Daniel started to scold Stanton for his actions, to remind him of Higgins' words, but then stopped. The boy had been lectured enough for one day. He unfolded the paper, which seemed to be stained at the edges, dark brown in color, reddish brown. Blood? Perhaps. He tried not to touch anymore of the paper than he could possibly help, holding just the corners with his fingertips. Everyone stood there, waiting patiently. As he glanced at the paper, which did indeed have writing on it, he read silently at first. Then, looking up once, he read aloud.

"'To my wife, I am sorry. I know this is not the way, but I cannot help myself. Without you and our children, I am nothing. I know you will be okay. Your family will take care of you. They love you as much as I do. I hope you can forgive me, my love. Joseph.'"When he finished, Daniel looked at all of them again. "Well, I guess that settles it. He took his own life."

Stanton shook his head fast and furious. "No, Uncle Daniel, the shaman said murder."

Daniel took the boy gently by his shoulders. "Son, I think we need to remember what happened here. And as for this note …" He stopped, realizing his nephew wasn't listening, did not want to hear the words of reason. So, he let it go.

"I think we should give this to the authorities," Daniel suggested.

"Not before showing it to Maria," Emma argued with that stubborn look on her face, which Daniel knew better than to confront.

"Yes, of course," he agreed. "But then Caleb and that Higgins character need to see it."

"What good it'll do," Emma muttered.

He had to admit he had his share of doubt. With the note, the detective would probably do no further investigating, call it a suicide and go back to Lawton. No loose ends, just a neat and tidy package. That's the part, which made Daniel want to delay turning over the note. But they'd already obstructed justice by taking the note in the first place. He sighed. No doubt he'd pay for this one. Caleb would see to it. He'd want some sort of revenge for Daniel humiliating him back at the diner. Yes. Sheriff Gentry was just that insecure. He knew it. Emma knew it. Hell, everyone in town knew it. He scratched his chin as he brooded. He was definitely toast. So, he guessed delaying it a bit longer wouldn't matter. Maybe a day or two. Give them a chance to do some real investigating.

Even though he was convinced Joseph's death was a suicide, having the authorities snoop around might just unearth something else about all the other troubles going on. And with this outside help, maybe Caleb could actually get to the bottom of things. At least that's how Daniel convinced himself to put off handing over the note. Maybe when the time came, and he would have to start defending himself against the sheriff's accusations, this might prove a plausible argument. Of course, Daniel wasn't feeling too confident about that, yet it was all he had. At the moment his reasoning sounded good enough to carry out the next step of their plan.

"Let's see if we can go find Maria Whitedeer. I think I overheard one of the deputies saying they were to take her over to her cousin's farm. That would be out at the north end of town," Daniel said as they moved on toward the truck. Things were moving along fast, he realized. Faster than this town was used to. He just hoped events would slow down some until they could find some answers. Otherwise, this town might find itself with more trouble than anyone could possibly handle, maybe even more death. He shuddered at that notion and then put the truck into gear.            

As they pulled out of the driveway, no one spoke. Everyone felt a bit unsettled about Maria's reaction. They expected the tears, but not the words.

"I tell you. This did not come from my Joseph," she said stubbornly.

"It is his handwriting?" Daniel had been the one to question her.

"Yes, but these words," she shook her head, "did not come from his heart." She began crying once more.

"What are you trying to say, Maria?" It was Emma's turn to speak.

The bereaved widow looked up at Emma, the pained, soulful eyes bearing down on her. She was haunted. Her husband not dead more than twenty-four hours, but still, she felt haunted by his death.

"Someone or something forced him to write this." She shook the note still clutched in her hand. "I tell you again. My husband would not write this, would not die like this." She tried to continue, when the tears stopped her. Maria put her head in her hands once more, letting the grief consume her.

"I think you should go now." It was Maria's cousin Alma who spoke then. She smiled kindly, but her words were stern. She meant for them to leave immediately.

"Thank you for letting us in," Daniel said as they walked out the door. He'd already spoken to Alma about getting the note to Caleb, but that there was no big hurry. Just in a day or two. She had raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, but then nodded as if she understood its message.

As they drove down the road toward the Dusty Rose, no one wanted to be the first to speak. However, Emma couldn't stay quiet for long.

"Now that sure muddied the waters a bit!" she exclaimed, trying to sum up how complicated things seemed to be getting.

"Miss Emma," Daniel started. "Don't you think that was just the ranting of a woman who is trying to make this death easier to handle? I mean, if she believes it was murder, then Joseph isn't guilty. She's not guilty. Then it's someone else's fault."

"I see what you're sayin'. It would make sense except for a couple things," Emma answered.

"And what's that, Miss Emma?" Jess asked, curious about the woman's theory.

"Maria Whitedeer never had a guilty bone in her body, especially where Joseph was concerned."

"Yes, but a tragedy like this could make someone behave different than usual," he argued.

"But that doesn't explain the other thing I was goin' to mention," Emma added. She paused, almost as if wanting to keep her listeners in suspense.

"The gun. Most everyone knew Joseph was scared to death of guns. Ever since he saw his daddy shot dead by another man he'd been playin' cards with. They'd been drinkin' in a bar together, playin' poker, about ten years ago it was. The fight got started and Joseph senior ended up dead on the floor. Ever since, Joseph won't even touch a gun," she explained.

"Like I said, sometimes events can make a person behave different, do different," Daniel continued to argue his point.

"Fiddlesticks," Emma said, crossed her arms and then looked out the window. "No reasonin' with some people," she muttered under her breath.

"The shaman said the dark spirit took Joseph away," Stanton stated as if trying to defend Maria and Emma. His voice was small and timid. It frightened him a little to defy his uncle, but the shaman wouldn't lie.

"Stanton." Daniel sighed. Once again he stopped himself from arguing. Little boys along with something as big as spiritual medicine were too good a match. Daniel couldn't put a wedge between that, no matter how hard he tried. So, he kept quiet, driving the truck in silence. He definitely felt outnumbered, even though Jess hadn't voiced her opinion. Still, he suspected she'd side with Emma and Stanton. Maybe he should become a law enforcer. Seems he wanted to tie up cases in neat little packages, too. Just as he accused Higgins of being likely to do. It was just too difficult to see things Emma's way, he admitted. Murder was a harsh act. He didn't want to believe someone around here could or would do that to Joseph. What kind of threat could Joseph possibly be for anyone to kill him? Did he know something? Something so incriminating that a person would kill him just to keep him from talking? He had mentioned Lucas and how he didn't have anything to do with him. He even implied he didn't want anything to do with him. Could this have something to do with Lucas? Daniel scratched his chin. Now he was thinking like Emma, but was it wise to take it in that direction? He guessed it couldn't hurt. Dig a little on his own. Pay a visit to Lucas. Ask a few questions. See if his reactions are even a bit suspicious. Nope. That couldn't hurt any at all.

Chapter 36

Be careful what you wish for. Daniel recalled those words, while fidgeting impatiently as he sat in the chair. Indeed, events did slow down for days and even weeks since Joseph's demise. Seems even though he wasn't the most well liked person in town, everyone reacted to his passing in almost silent reverence, a type of mourning, if you will. Daniel regarded evidence of this fact as he noticed people's faces and voices—stunned, shocked, speaking in nearly hushed tones.

Equally disconcerting, Daniel admitted, was nothing new came forward in the case—no evidence, no clues, everything totally quiet, dead, as if in a time limbo. The sense of urgency grew in all of them. He, Emma, and Jess. More and more, everyday. They needed answers, but they just weren't coming.

So, here the three of them sat in the kitchen, drinking iced tea to cool down the heat building up on the Oklahoma plains. Emma handed the journal to Daniel.

"I'll be darned if I can find anything significant," she explained. "Martha makes a few references to John Wallace, my granddaddy, and how he has purchased all this land, rich oil land, but that's about it. Doesn't even mention who he did his dealin' with, although she does make it sound like a couple of his old cronies were close business associates."