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

was a gift from the town of Cherry Creek when he was honored as a town founder. He was never without it. The watch was his pride. That was the first indication the motive was robbery and not just a murder. I deducted Tom’s killer must have taken the items with him and probably off the dead man. After the search of the house was completed, we moved outside. I took the north side and Billy started looking to the south to see what we could find. We separated to cover the ground quicker. I called for Billy when I found Tom’s wallet laying about 40 feet from the shack. It looked as if it had been tossed near the bushes after being emptied of its contents.

Billy had found some horse tracks leading south from the house toward the open range. He had lost the trail about a hundred yards out when the tracks diminished in the rocky terrain. The directions of the tracks lead us to believe the crime was done by a drifter and after the robbery; he had headed south toward Lexington about 40 miles away. The shoes of the horse were worn down and obviously needed replacing. The unknown rider would be looking to have his horse shod. Lexington was the only town in the direction the tracks ran. So, Lexington would be my next place to look; even though I didn’t know what I was looking for. I needed to go over to see the marshal to report the crime anyhow. I wrote down a report of what I thought about the case and had Billy do the same. I carried both reports and the crime scene drawing that Billy had made. We didn’t have much but it was all we had.

I went by to tell my wife, Ellie where I was going and why. She was very worried about me but I told her everything would be okay. She wasn’t sure I should get involved. She seemed better when I explained this was something I needed to do to insure the case was handled right. She understood but still wasn’t happy about it. As I left the house, she had to hug me one more time. Ellie squeezed me so tight like she didn’t want to let go. It was like she thought I wasn’t coming back. I, again, assured her I would be back shortly. But I had to go and report this to the law in Lexington. I had to see it was done right. I kissed Ellie gently, mounted my horse and rode away. At the ridge line, I turned back in the saddle and saw her still watching. It saddened me that she worried. Still I had to go.

Once in Lexington, I found the marshal’s office. As I entered I was greeted by a big man sitting behind the desk. By the lawman shield on his chest, I guessed this was the man I was looking for. With a half-way grin, he stood, and introduced himself. My first impression was right. I had never met him but had heard of him before. I introduced myself and stated why I was there as the lawman sat back down. Marshal Reese leaned on his elbows on his desk as he listened to my report and how we needed his help. I showed him the reports, drawings, and the piece of rowel from the spur. He patiently listened as I presented what all we had found. After a while, his demeanor seemed to change to a lack of interest. I was puzzled until he explained he had something to show me that might be of interest to my case. We walked into a back room where a double set of 10 holding cells lined up both sides of the room. There were five or six men in individual cells.

Marshal Reese led me to a cell to the far end of the room. Sitting on a bunk was a young cowboy who appeared to be a drover. He looked like a hard-case who would be the type to be in a jail. His black eye and showed it too. The marshal told me he had arrested Yates the previous night in one of the local saloons. The Texas cowpuncher had been drinking and playing poker. Witnesses all agreed that Yates had been making trouble all night with his hard partying and bad-mouthing folks. Somehow the trouble turned on a couple of whiskey salesmen at a side table. It wasn’t very clear who started it or why but Yates took to cutting up one of the drummers with a knife. The deep, multiple knife cuts caused the demise of the drummer on the saloon floor. Yates was arrested and was being held for murder in jail awaiting the judge to come to town. And with all the witnesses, Yates would hang for the killing. Still, the lawman wanted to know if the drover was the same man who had killed the man in Cherry Creek.

Marshal Reese asked the incarcerated man if he had just come through that part of the country on his way to Lexington. Strangely, he man admitted he had. The questioning continued and Yates even admitted he had stopped at Tom’s ranch. He was looking for some work and had talked to Tom and just left. He denied there had been a fight or anything else with the rancher. Reese asked about the black eye which the cowboy sported when he rode into Lexington the previous day. Still the caged man denied he had a fight with Tom. I produced the broken rowel and handed it to the lawman. Reese showed the man the rowel. It matched the broken spur which had been removed from Yates when he was arrested. The story now changed. Yates admitted getting into a fight with Tom in the shack. He had rode up to the house but saw Tom back at the shack. The drover approached him and asked if he could do some work for a meal. Tom started bad mouthing him and called him a saddle tramp. Tom told him to get off his property. Yates followed Tom into the shack and a fight ensued but he swore he did not kill Tom. He claimed he beat the man to the floor but did not knife him or kill him. He claimed he just rode away and left the man lying on the floor. The way he described the fight was almost like bragging. We each had heard enough.

The marshal and I walked back out to his desk. Reese felt Yates was the man who killed my friend, Tom. The cowboy admitted being there and his face was marked which indicated a serious fight which is probably when Tom’s knuckles became skinned. The lawman walked around behind his desk and sat down. He looked up at me and smiled. He said he had something else that matches something in my report. Reese opened drawer in his desk and lifted out a gun belt with a singe holstered six-gun. He had taken it off of Yates the night before. On the holster was a five pointed silver star. It matched the drawing in the sand. Most likely, that holster was the clue that Tom had drawn in the sand. The lawman was sure he had our guy. Also there was better than a hundred dollars in his pockets when arrested. Yates said he talked to Tom for some work for a meal.

Why would a man with a hundred dollars need to work for a meal? There was no gold watch but that probably meant Yates had lost it in a poker game or sold it. Reese felt there was plenty of evidence on Yates. And on top of that, Yates would hang for the murder of the drummer. He didn’t need the killing of my friend to be hung. The Texas cowboy was already a condemned man. Simply put; our case was solved and the guilty man would hang. There would be no need for a trial. He felt the judge wouldn’t even need me to testify as added information in the case of the killed drummer. And he made a good point. Why drag all the people from Cherry Creek through the ugliness of having to relive the killing of their friend. Yates was going to hang for sure anyway. He felt justice would be served. I left the marshal’s office feeling good. I agreed to explain to everyone back at Cherry Creek that Tom’s murderer would be hung, if not directly, indirectly for the killing. I, too, felt justice would be served. I even felt relieved with this way of handling the killer.

On the ride back to Cherry Creek I thought a lot on this case. But my thoughts would have surprised the marshal. My thoughts would have surprised a lot of people. I was thinking about how, two weeks ago, I had arrived early back at my ranch and saw my good friend, Thomas Jacks riding away from my house. I wasn’t supposed to be back until the next day but came in sooner to surprise my wife, Ellie. Well, it was me who was surprised. I sat on the ridge line watching Tom cutting cross-country through the woods toward his house. This gave me a bad feeling as to the reason why a man was leaving my house and my wife in a suspicious manner. I wasn’t going to draw a conclusion until I heard what my wife said about the purpose of him being there.

I waited several hours before riding on down to my house. I didn’t want Ellie to think I might have seen anything or suspected anything. On my arrival, she seemed very happy to see me. Nothing appeared to be amiss. I had been gone to Lexington to work on a deal to sell the army some beef. When I got through with the dealing early, I decided to back rather than spending another night away from my wife. Ellie seemed sincere about being pleased I was back. I asked if anything had happened while I was gone. She stated there was nothing. I asked had anyone come by. Again she denied anything. I remember her walking over to the fireplace and sitting down in a chair.

My mind was whirling. Here sat the love of my life lying to me. She denied anyone had been by, yet I had just seen Tom leaving three hours before. Ellie just sat by the fire staring into the small blaze flickering under a pot of beans. I spent too many years in law enforcement to be fooled by someone with a guilty conscience. There was something eating her insides. I started to confront her with what I saw earlier. As I opened my mouth to speak, Ellie turned in her chair and looked into my eyes; she was troubled.