Old Tin Sorrows

13

My horse looked forlorn. I got it and led it down along the edge of the wood, looking for tracks. If I didn't find anything before I reached the property line, I'd work my way back up the far side of the woods.

Our villain had cunning in limited amounts. The stunt would have been sufficient if there'd been no cause for suspicion. But there was.

I found where a horseman had come out of the wood barely far enough away to be out of sight of the place where Hawkes had gotten it. The spacing of hoofmarks said he'd been in no real hurry once he'd gotten away from the woods. Meaning he hadn't been worried about explaining his presence.

That put Tyler and Chain back on the suspect list. They wouldn't have been questioned because they belonged out here.

I'd have to question the survivors, find out who said and did what before they set out. Might be some subtle indicator there.

Whoever the killer was, he'd been bold. He'd ridden around behind the rise you crossed to reach the ambush, then had headed home. At least, I presumed that was what he'd done while the poacher-hunters were fussing over Hawkes. I lost the trail.

I circled and circled, quartered this way and that, and couldn't find it again.The drizzle and the chill breeze overcame my devotion to my craft. I headed for the house.

I was stomping through that museum of a central hall, headed for a change of clothes, when Jennifer fluttered out of nowhere. She looked more feminine and frail and vulnerable than she had. She was flustered and frightened. I waited, though I had no urge to see her.

"Sergeant Hawkes died," she blurted. "Right there in front of me. He just shook all over and made this funny sound and he wasn't alive anymore."

"When?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I was looking for Dellwood when I saw you. I need somebody to tell me what to do."

If she was looking for comfort she'd come to the wrong man. I didn't feel like comforting anybody. Not even a gorgeous brunette who had all the right stuff in all the right places, put together to make a dead bishop howl. My late night and early morning had me feeling like I was carrying an extra fifty pounds. Worse, I'd missed lunch.

I'd already determined that Cook was immune to my golden tongue. She didn't even know what was happening. It went right past her. "Dellwood would be the best man to tell you. And speak of the devil."

Here he came, moving without the usual sedate deliberation. "Miss Jennifer, you were supposed to stay with Hawkes."

"He doesn't need me anymore."

Dellwood's eyes got big. "He... He... "

"Yes. What do we do now?"

I said, "Dellwood, I need to see the General. At his earliest convenience. I'll be in my quarters."

I was going to take a nap. I expected I'd have another long night. I'd better rest while I could.

I glanced back at Jennifer and Dellwood. Maybe they were good actors. Maybe they were genuinely frazzled and upset. Whatever, they had exaggerated just that little bit that told me they wanted me to see them in a favorable light.

I didn't care if they cried or danced with joy. As far as I was concerned there was only one good guy in the house and his name was Garrett.