The Loner: Trail Of Blood (22 page)

He and Arturo sat down in armchairs while Kellogg took a seat on a sofa. While Theresa was gone, the minister said, “Something just occurred to me, Mr. Morgan. If the children
are
here … how are you going to prove that they’re yours?”

The Kid drew in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

“Well … do you have any sort of records, any documents that prove you’re the children’s father?”

The Kid’s heart slugged in his chest. He had never thought about that. He had been so consumed with finding the twins, with the search itself, the idea of proof hadn’t entered his mind. He couldn’t come up with any words to say.

“We have a letter from the mother of the children,” Arturo spoke up. “It explains why she set out to conceal from Mr. Morgan not just the location of the children, but also their very existence.”

Kellogg held up a hand to stop him. “You might as well wait until Theresa gets back. Then you’ll only have to go through the story once.”

“That’s a good idea.” The brief delay would give The Kid a chance to get his thoughts in order.

Theresa returned a few minutes later with a tray and glasses of lemonade. The drink was considerably better than what he had had at the house of Ralph and Sara Beth Potter, The Kid discovered as he sipped the cool, sweet yet tart liquid.

“Mr. Morgan is going to explain the situation,”
Kellogg told Theresa as she sat down at the other end of the sofa from him.

She nodded. “I’m eager to hear that explanation.” Caution, even outright suspicion, was still plain to see on her face.

The Kid took a deep breath. “Several years ago, I was engaged to a woman named Pamela Tarleton. Our engagement ended before we were married. What I didn’t know at the time was that she was already … with child.” He glanced at Kellogg. “Sorry, Reverend. I mean Brother Tom.”

Kellogg waved a hand. “I’m not here to judge, Mr. Morgan, just to listen.”

“Well, I found out recently that Pamela—Miss Tarleton—gave birth to a son and daughter. Twins.”

“You never knew about this?” Theresa asked.

The Kid shook his head. “Not until a few weeks ago. I got a letter that she had left behind with a relative. She was upset with me, blamed me not only for ending our engagement but for the death of her father as well.”

“Did you have anything to do with that?”

“No, ma’am, I did not. But that didn’t stop Pamela from being angry with me. She deliberately withheld the news of the twins’ birth from me, and she informed me in the letter that she had hidden them away where I would never find them.”

“That’s terrible,” Kellogg murmured.

“I thought so,” The Kid agreed.

Theresa asked, “What did you do when you found out about this, Mr. Morgan?”

“Naturally, I set out to find the children. I tracked
Pamela, the children, and a servant to a train bound for San Francisco. It seems like she might have stopped somewhere along the way and left the children in a place she thought they wouldn’t be found. So Arturo and I are having a look around in every likely settlement we come to.”

“So when you heard there was an orphanage in Powderhorn …?”

“What better place to hide a couple of kids,” The Kid finished for Theresa.

“I take it that Miss Tarleton has dropped out of sight, too, so you can’t just ask her? I would think a court might compel her to talk.”

The Kid shook his head. “She’s dead,” he said flatly. He didn’t offer any explanations for that.

“I see.” Theresa regarded him solemnly. “Mr. Morgan, you have my sympathy. I’m sure it was quite a shock for you to find out that you’re a father, and I can understand why you want to locate your children. But I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember?” The Kid said. “It would have been about three years ago—”

“There are no twins here. I’m certain,” Theresa said in a firm voice. “You see, I keep good records. I know where each of the children living here came from, and I assure you, no woman got off the train and dropped off a couple of infants.”

The Kid felt a surge of anger and frustration. He had convinced himself that he might be close to the end of his quest. “No offense, Mrs. Shanley, but would you mind if I took a look at the children? I’d like to see for myself—”

“What would you like to see, Mr. Morgan? That none of them the right age bear a resemblance to you or your late fiancée?” Theresa’s voice was sharp with some anger of her own. “Why would I lie to you about such a thing?”

“Pamela Tarleton had a lot of money.” The Kid’s words were hard and blunt. “In tracking her movements, we’ve run into several people that she paid off to do what she wanted.”

“I’m not one of them, and I resent the implication that I am,” Theresa snapped.

The Kid shrugged. “Like I said, I meant no offense. But I don’t know you, ma’am. Taking care of a bunch of kids can’t be easy, and it probably costs quite a bit, too.”

Tom Kellogg leaned forward. “I
do
know Mrs. Shanley, Mr. Morgan, and I can promise you she’s a truthful woman.”

“Thanks, Tom, but I can defend myself.” Theresa gave The Kid a cool, level stare. “My husband left me fairly comfortable as far as money is concerned, and the members of Tom’s church have been very generous with both time and money to help me out. There haven’t been any problems until—” She stopped short and didn’t finish.

The Kid took note of that. “Until when? Until Pamela showed up?”

“I told you, I never met the woman. And any problems I may have are none of your business.” She added with scathing scorn, “No offense meant.”

“I’d still like to—”

She didn’t let him finish. She stood up and said,
“This visit is over. Good day, sir. Tom, would you please show Mr. Morgan and Mr. Vincenzo out?”

Kellogg looked uncomfortable. In his profession, he was used to being a peacemaker, and he unwittingly had brought conflict into that house. But clearly, he was on Theresa’s side in the dispute. He stood up. “Gentlemen, please.”

The Kid and Arturo got to their feet as well. The Kid gave Theresa a nod. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It wasn’t my intention to cause trouble. I just want to find my children.”

“I understand that, but they’re not here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her face was firm and inflexible.

Kellogg ushered them out of the parlor to the front door. As they reached it, a sudden clatter of footsteps on the stairs made The Kid pause. He looked back and saw several youngsters coming downstairs. His heart took a leap as spotted a young boy and girl, each with dark hair like Pamela’s. As they reached the bottom of the stairs they paused to look curiously at the strangers. The Kid didn’t see any sign of either himself or Pamela in their features. He also could tell they were a little older than his twins would be. “Come on, Arturo,” he muttered, trying not to let his disappointment get the better of him.

They went through the gate in the fence and onto the street. Tom Kellogg lingered behind them, talking to Theresa Shanley through the open front door.

Quietly, Arturo asked, “Do you believe the lady, Kid?”

“She certainly sounded and acted like she was telling the truth,” he replied with a shrug. “I knew Futrelle was lying as soon as he opened his mouth. The question is, how much do I want to trust my instincts?”

“I agree. Mrs. Shanley doesn’t strike me as the sort to be involved in anything nefarious. But it’s difficult to be sure what money can persuade a person to do, isn’t it?”

“That’s the truth,” The Kid said.

Behind them, Kellogg came through the gate and hurried after them. “Wait up, gentlemen,” he called.

The Kid and Arturo stopped and let the minister catch up to them.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out as you’d hoped they would, Mr. Morgan. I promise you, though, Theresa—I mean Mrs. Shanley—wouldn’t lie. She’s the most honest woman I know.” Kellogg paused. “Do you believe me?”

The Kid smiled thinly. “I’d be sort of risking my immortal soul to doubt the word of a preacher, wouldn’t I?”

“Not at all. Preachers are as human as anybody else.”

The yearning look he cast back toward Theresa Shanley’s house was proof of that, The Kid thought. Kellogg was seriously smitten with the young widow. The Kid didn’t know if she returned the minister’s interest and frankly didn’t care.

But he was curious about something. “What sort of trouble has she been having lately?”

Kellogg hesitated. “I don’t know that it’s my place to say anything …”

The Kid made a guess. “Something to do with Court Elam?”

Kellogg’s eyes widened in surprise. “How in the world did you know that?”

“Arturo and I have had our own run-in with Elam and his men. I was involved in that dustup over in Abilene yesterday.”

“You killed those men who went over there to break Barnes out of jail?” Kellogg sounded impressed and a little scared at the same time, as if it might be dangerous walking down the street with Kid Morgan.

Which was certainly true from time to time, The Kid reflected wryly.

“I gave Marshal Fisher a hand defending himself. Then this morning we ran into Elam, Jim Mundy, and some more of his men on the trail between here and Abilene. Nothing happened, but the conversation was a mite tense. When we got here to Powderhorn we saw Elam’s name plastered on what looks like half the businesses in town. A man like that thinks he runs everything, and he doesn’t like it when anybody stands up to him.”

“That’s certainly true of Courtland Elam,” Kellogg said with a nod. “I try to think the best of everyone, but sometimes it’s difficult. Very difficult.”

The Kid hooked his thumbs in his belt as they walked toward the church. “Tell me about Elam.”

“Well, I don’t really know all that much. Like Mrs. Shanley, he was here when I came to Powderhorn. From what people tell me, he came here several
years ago and bought out the freight company. Nobody knew that Ben Jeffords had any interest in selling out, and the rumor was that Elam forced him into it. Elam had Jim Mundy and several other men like that with him. More gunmen drifted into town … I don’t think it was an accident … and Elam began buying up other businesses.”

“Forcing the owners out in the process?”

“I’m told he paid fair prices. It was more a matter of taking over businesses the original owners didn’t really want to get rid of. Then there was what happened to Jephtha Dickinson …”

They had reached the shade under the trees in front of the church. “Go on,” The Kid said.

“It’s not very Christian to repeat a lot of gossip.”

“What happened to Dickinson?” The Kid asked.

Kellogg sighed. “He owned the livery stable and wouldn’t sell out to Elam. Early one morning, when he was in the stable alone, a horse kicked him in the head and killed him.”

“A horse kicked him … or one of Elam’s men stove in his skull and made it look like a horse had done it?”

“I don’t know.” Kellogg shook his head. “People talked about that possibility, of course, but there was no way to prove it.”

“Did anybody look into it? Do you have any law here?”

“Not really. Not since the marshal was killed.”

“And what happened to him?”

“Shot from behind, from the mouth of an alley one night. No one saw who did it … but he’d arrested one of Elam’s men for disturbing the peace
that day. The man resisted, and the marshal had to knock him around pretty good.”

“Jim Mundy strikes me as the back-shooting type,” The Kid mused.

“Like I said, no one knows. There’s been some talk about having the town council hire another marshal, but nothing has ever been done about it. By the way, Court Elam is the mayor and the head of the town council.”

The Kid grunted in surprise. “Why would folks vote a man like that into office?”

Kellogg looked at him like that was a stupid question.

“Yeah, I suppose they were scared not to. So nothing was done about Dickinson’s death?”

“No. His wife sold the stable to Elam not long after that.”

“What about the store that Elam owns? Is it the same one that Mrs. Shanley’s husband had before he died?”

“That’s right,” Kellogg said. “And before you jump to any conclusions, Mr. Morgan, there was nothing suspicious about his death. He and their children passed away because of a fever. So did a number of other people in town. For a while it looked like Powderhorn might dry up and blow away, as the old saying goes.” The minister’s mouth tightened. “I suppose if there’s one good thing you can say about Elam, it’s that he didn’t allow that to happen. He kept the town in business, and eventually everyone got over the tragedy. As much as they could, anyway.”

The Kid nodded slowly. “Probably that’s one
more reason why Elam thinks Powderhorn is his and nobody can defy him. Sounds like a lot of businessmen. Maybe a little more heavy-handed than most. There’s still the matter of Dickinson’s death.”

“Yes, but it hasn’t stopped there,” Kellogg said. “His men have gotten bolder, more brazen. They take what they want and run roughshod over anybody who gets in their way. Also, other men have started riding into town and then riding back out again as the lawlessness in these parts has increased. Trains have been held up, the bank down in Hutchinson was robbed, ranches have been raided and stock run off.”

“Sounds to me like Elam’s recruited a bunch of outlaws and is using this as the gang’s headquarters,” The Kid said.

“That’s what people think, but again, there’s no proof.”

“It’s a pretty sorry situation. But what does it have to do with Mrs. Shanley? Did he pressure her into selling the store she inherited from her husband?”

Kellogg shook his head. “No, she was more than willing to sell. She didn’t want to run the place once her husband was gone, and I don’t blame her. She was more interested in caring for the children she had taken in. The money Elam paid her allowed her to do that. Her problem with Elam is more … personal.”

Kellogg fell silent, and after a moment The Kid prodded him, “Go on.”

The minister drew in a deep breath and let it
out in a sigh. “Elam didn’t want to just buy the store from Theresa. He wanted a merger.”

“What do you mean?” The Kid asked, although he suddenly had a hunch that he knew.