The Murder of Cherry Creek by Jay Wilson (electronic book reader txt) 📖

The Murder of Cherry Creek
By jay Wilson ©2005

Cherry Creek wasn’t the type of town where one would expect trouble. It was a small out of the way place where pioneer families had settled to start a new way of life. Folks didn’t want the trouble that came with the larger settlements where cattle drives and shootouts were considered normal occurrences. The people of Cherry Creek preferred a simpler lifestyle. What cattle were seen belonged to local ranchers. And the few guns still carried were used to dispatch coyotes and an occasional rattlesnake. This was a place of peace and tranquility near the end of the nineteenth century.

The last violence most of these people had seen was during the Civil War; a war that affected so many and a major cause for them to migrate to Cherry Creek. Most wanted a place to escape the memories of that bad time in their lives. I too, was here for the peace. The war had taken its toll on me but so had my previous occupation. Now I played a role in the serenity of our little settlement. But I will share more about that later.

Cherry Creek had come into existence mainly because a single man; Thomas Jacks. It had been nearly 15 years since he and his family settled in the third homestead and it had been growing ever since. Jacks was an important man in our town’s history. When the first two settlers pulled out, he stayed. He was bound and determined that there would been a town in this area. And he was right. Now with better than 30 families, his vision had materialized. The residents regarded him as sort of the `father of the town’. It seemed everything he did was for the town and its people.

We all followed Jacks lead and pitched in to make this land our home and a fine place to raise families. We had our occasional drifter who would get drunk or someone riding their horses unsafely. We even had a theft every once in a while but it was usually kids acting up. As a rule, we had nothing serious to complain about. Crime was really non-existent. That was until the murder of Cherry Creek.

Thomas Jacks’ body was found in his old shack just west of town. Tom, as all his friends called him, was a good man and his death was a shock to our little settlement. He had been the inspiration to settle in Cherry Creek along with his wife and little girl. He was a pillar of the community. Two years ago, when my wife Ellie and I came here, he helped in every way he could. He had even helped me to acquire my homestead and he was there helping with the `roof raising’ on my house. He helped all who needed it and will be missed by many. Tom was a friend to the community. I even knew about the time he was sending can goods over to the McNeil spread. John McNeil had been killed when he was thrown from his horse. Tom saw to it Mary McNeil and her young daughters weren’t going to go hungry. He was that kind of man and all respected him for it.

Tom and I had become good friends and I guess I knew him as well as anyone did. And he knew me also. I had been a lawman for most of my adult life and we talked about it many times. He felt he could talk me about most anything. And he told me so several times. I also felt I could talk to him about most things. Sometimes he told more than I really wanted to know. Once he told me his wife left him six months before. He said it was because of a problem back east with her family and they needed her. I suspected there was more to it but I tend to mind my own business; well, that is until lately.

When Tom’s body was found, several of the town leaders asked me to come to a special meeting about what to do. A murder was unheard of in Cherry Creek but this was far beyond just a murder. The `town father’ had been killed. They knew I had retired from my lawman days as a deputy sheriff back east to build my ranch here in Cherry Creek. They knew I had the experience to deal with and investigate this hideous crime. It would take more lawman to solve this case than the town had with the sheriff they had. I had said many times I was glad to be retired from packing a gun and dealing with the lawless. Still, they felt I should get involved due to my experience and I agreed.

We had hired a young man to be the town sheriff but it was a figurehead job. Billy was a counter clerk at Johnson’s Mercantile. There really wasn’t much for him to do because there just wasn’t any crime in our town. Billy was with the group of men when I arrived at the meeting hall. The committee wanted me to head the investigation. The suggestion was made by Billy. He felt this was more than he was capable of handling. I agreed to help. Billy and I saddled our horses and rode back over to Tom’s place with the others to see what I thought. After all, Tom was a friend of mine too; a trusted friend.

Tom’s body had been found out back of the main house in the old shelter. This is where he and his family had lived when they first settled at Cherry Creek. It was a simple plank one-room building. The new bigger house was built as his wealth grew. Tom used the small structure now as a storage area and small office. It has small windows but only one door to the outside. This doorway is where my friend was laying. He was face down, halfway out side, blocking the main door. It looked like he had been shot or stabbed inside, by the blood on the floor, but had managed to crawl to the door before collapsing. His hand was lying in the dirt and he had drawn a five pointed star in the sandy soil.

He was found that way earlier in the day by Billy. Our young sheriff’s main job was delivering supplies to the local ranches and homesteads. He had gone out to deliver some ranching supplies to Tom’s when he found the murdered man. Even with how little Billy knew about crime investigation, he knew to preserve the crime scene. The star was evidence that could be used to solve the murder. Tom was trying to tell us something. The inexperienced lawman had posted a man to keep everyone back away from the body and house so they wouldn’t mess up any other evidence that might be there.

I also asked the other men standing around to stay outside while Billy and I entered the shack to look for more clues. From the blood evidence and the overturned boxes and chairs, it was obvious that a fight had occurred inside and this was where and when Tom received his fatal injury. Billy found a broken rowel from a spur. It had dug into the wooden floor before it broke, obviously during the fight. Tom wasn’t wearing spurs. I put the piece in my pocket for safe keeping. Doc Robins arrived about the time we were coming back out of the shack. He was our local sawbones. No one was sure about where he came from or why. He was a good man and respected. That was enough for us to know. He delivered babies and set broken bones, but today he was going to help determine the cause of death of Tom. And in doing so, maybe help solve a murder.

I stood by while he examined the body. He checked the wound where the bulk of blood had come from as well as the cuts and abrasions to his head. He also pointed out two long scratches which appeared to be from an earlier affray. They looked like scratches one would get from fingernails; a woman’s finger nails. The old Doctor did a thorough examination of the body. His findings were the deceased had died from a single knife wound to the stomach. The knife’s blade had cut an artery and had caused Tom to bleed to death. He felt the wound was the primary cause the amount of blood on the floor but could not say if some of the blood could have been from Tom’s attacker. He also found the numerous abrasions and bruises associated with a violent fight about the dead man’s head and shoulders. Tom’s knuckles were also skinned and bruised badly indicating he had put up a hell of a fight. And all who knew Tom knew it wouldn’t be like him to go down easy.

I asked Billy to get his notebook and make a sketch of the whole area where the body was laying, the star drawn in the dirt, the broken rowel, and blood locations inside the shack. We might need this information when we contacted the marshal over in Lexington. If we formed a case, the circuit judge, also from Lexington would handle the trail. All we could do is try to solve what happened, why, and by whom. Tom’s body was loaded in the back of Doc’s buckboard and taken back to Cherry Creek to his office. There he could perform a much more detailed examination. But Doc also said he didn’t expect to find much more that what he already knew. Everyone left the ranch for town with the exception of Billy and me. We stayed at the scene and continued to look for more clues.

We decided to start in the main house. The house’s doors were unlocked and we began our search for clues. Nothing appeared to be disturbed, out of place, or appeared to have been gone through. Everything seemed to be in its proper place. Billy did question why the murderer didn’t come in the house and look for more money or other things of value. I guessed that he killer had been in a hurry to get away. He had just killed a man and wouldn’t want to hang around for long enough to search a house. Billy thought on it and agreed. It would have been foolish for anyone to kill a man and then wonder around in the house. But still, I felt we should continue the search just in case.

We did not find Tom’s wallet or his gold watch anywhere in the house; both were missing from his body which was strange. His watch