Tim Curran - Skull Moon

And he believed it.

"I guess I never expected to see you alive again," Deputy Bowes said when Longtree walked into the jailhouse later that morning. "I thought I'd be forming a posse one of these nights to retrieve your body."

"I didn't have any trouble with 'em," Longtree admitted. "Where's Lauters at?"

"At home, I suspect. Haven't seen him yet this morning."

"Good."

"Those injuns tell you what you wanted to know?"

Longtree took off his hat and set it on the desk. "You know a fellow up there by the name of Herbert Crazytail?"

Bowes nodded. "You could say that. His people got themselves a little worked up about a year ago after his son was lynched. Vigilantes forced themselves into the jail, overpowered the sheriff, and strung the poor bastard up." Bowes looked as if this was something he'd rather forget about. "Things got a little tense after that."

"How so?"

"Crazytail's son-Red Elk-was accused of raping and killing a local white girl, name of Carpenter." Bowes pursed his lips. "You can imagine how folks around here felt about that. Well, Red Elk swore he was innocent. Vigilantes didn't believe him, I guess. After the hanging, trouble started." Bowes stared into his cup of coffee. "A few prospectors were killed out in the hills, a schoolmaster by the name of Penrose was murdered. A few other killings followed. Retribution by the Blackfeet, I suppose. A few Indians got shot. It looked like all hell was about to break loose. Goverment sent an Indian Agent down here. He smoothed things out with the tribes and business settled down. But I'll tell you something, Marshal," Bowes said, giving Longtree a warning look, "only a damn fool goes up into Blackfeet lands now. They never had much use for us whites and they have a lot less now after that thing with Red Elk. I think that goes both ways."

Longtree chewed on this for a few moments. "Were any Indians arrested for those murders?"

"No," Bowes sighed. "As far as the prospectors went, they're always getting themselves killed jumping each others' claims. No proof there. And that schoolmaster…again, no proof, just a lot of hearsay."

"But you think the Blackfeet were guilty?"

"It seems mighty coincidental," Bowes said. "But…hell, who knows?"

Longtree poured himself a cup of coffee. "The night the vigilantes raided the jail, Lauters was alone here?"

The deputy looked pained. "Yeah. I was delivering a prisoner to Virginia City. I didn't get back till early the next morning." Bowes reclined back in his seat, locking his fingers behind his head. "What does any of this have to do with why you're here?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I have to look at this business from every side."

"Are you thinking these murders might be some revenge by the Blackfeet?"

"It's a possibility I can't overlook." Longtree sipped his coffee and asked the question that was really nagging him. "Who was this prisoner you took to Virginia City?"

Bowes scratched his beard. "Fellah by the name of Carson. He was a miner, worked at one of the silver camps. Word reached us he was also wanted for murder in Deadwood, Dakota Territory. We took him in. Marshals Office wired us, said to deliver him to Virginia City and lock him up there until one of their men came by train to take custody of him."

"Was there any urgency in getting him to Virginia City?"

Bowes narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You asking why I took him that night and not another?"

"Yes."

"Sheriff told me to. That's all. There was no hurry. Jail wasn't crowded, that marshal from Dakota Territory wasn't expected for a week or so. Sheriff just up and told me to deliver the prisoner one morning. Nothing more to it than that. Just what are you getting at?"

Longtree swallowed. "I just want to know what was so urgent about getting that prisoner to Virginia City, is all. Why that night?"

"You're thinking the Sheriff was involved in that lynching, aren't you?" Bowes asked pointedly. "Well, if that's the case, Marshal, I'd say you're listening to too much local gossip. I would think after all this time them rumors would've died out."

"Rumors about Lauters being mixed up with the vigilantes?"

"You know what I mean."

Longtree suppressed a grin. If nothing else, their little talk here had established the basic facts of what Moonwind had said: Red Elk had been lynched and there were rumors about Sheriff Lauters' complicity.

Bowes fixed him with a lethal stare. "I'll tell you something, Marshal. I'll tell you something right here and now. I'm loyal to Bill Lauters and I don't want to hear that kind of talk. You investigate these murders all you want and I'll gladly help you all I can, but I don't want to hear you insulting that man. He might not look like much now, but once, once he was a fine lawman."

Longtree nodded. "Don't get yourself upset, Deputy. Nobody's insulting him. You have to remember that my job is to look into every possible motive for these killings. And if I start thinking the Indians are involved, I have to ask myself why?" Longtree told him sincerely. "And if you tell me this Red Elk was lynched and there was bad blood following that business and rumors flying around, well then, I'm going to get suspicious. I wouldn't be worth a shit as a lawman if I didn't."

"Okay, Marshal, I understand. And I think you understand me."

Longtree studied Bowes with narrowed eyes. "Tell me about these cattle rustlers."

Bowes laughed. "Damn. Not too much you don't hear about is there?"

"It's my job."

Bowes shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. In the past three, four years, during the warm months, we've had some rustling. No one was ever caught, few were questioned. No leads, no nothing. Just a lot of hearsay."

"Tell me the hearsay."

"Folks say there's a ring involved here, a group of men who are responsible. Some say they're based here in Wolf Creek, others say Virginia City or even Bannack. Take your pick. Nothing's ever turned up, I'm afraid. Folks in these parts call 'em the Gang of Ten. I don't know why. That's it."

Longtree was listening to this and remembering all Moonwind had said about the vigilantes being the rustlers and Lauters being involved. He was also thinking that if it was this Gang of Ten that were the vigilantes, that possibly eight of their number had been murdered. There was no proof of this Skullhead or that the Indians were out for revenge, but Moonwind had certainly wanted him to think so.

He needed proof.

Any kind of proof. But how could he get it? Getting something on Lauters would be tough. But what about the Indians? Also tough. Moonwind had said Red Elk, her brother, was a shapeshifter. It sounded crazy, impossible, but…

"The Blackfeet bury their dead, don't they?"

Bowes looked at him as if he were insane. "Yeah, they do. They put 'em in the ground same as us."

"Where would Red Elk be buried?"

A shadow crossed Bowes' face like he didn't care for where this was leading. "Up in the hills. There's a burial ground up there. But get any crazy ideas out of your head, Marshal. That cemetery is sacred ground to them. You get caught nosing around up there-won't be enough of you left to bury."

"Let me worry about that," Longtree said. "How can I find it?"

Bowes looked upset. "It's in a little valley, hard to find." He sighed heavily. "I could show you, I guess. I went up there once as a kid. On a dare. I could take you. That is, if you're determined.

"I am."

Bowes just shook his head. "What do you want up there?"

"I want to examine Red Elk's remains."

"Yes, I do think we're looking at a banner year, Marion," Wynona Spence said, beaming. "We shan't see a year like this again."

She sipped her tea and thought about the killings and, though she did not take pleasure in anyone's untimely death (as if death were ever timely), she couldn't help but feel a certain satisfaction in the money she was taking in. And that was just good business sense, nothing more. When she had taken over her father's operation, people treated her as if she were crazy. A woman undertaker? Good God, who'd ever heard of such a thing and what woman in her right mind wanted to while away the hours processing the dead?