Silver Creek - G.L. Snodgrass Page 0,24
the same bottle.”
This time Scarlet did wince when she sipped her drink then shot him a quick smile letting him know she knew he realized the scam.
“I heard Troy Cooper was here that night. How about Mark Felton?”
The young woman gently placed her hand over his. “Do we really want to talk about this?”
He simply stared at her until she sighed and removed her hand. “No. I didn’t see Mark Felton. And Troy left that night. Right after Mr. Johnson went upstairs.”
“And Tom didn’t leave during those two days. Didn’t go to the bank?”
“Bank was closed. The sale happened on a Friday night. I remember because it wasn’t busy like normal. Just Mr. Johnson. Troy, that Travers man. And Doc Weaver.”
Luke nodded as he processed what he’d been told. “Where does the Doc hang his shingle?”
Scarlet smiled. “He ain’t that kind of doctor. He’s one of those book doctors. Philosophy or something like it. If you’re looking for him. He stays over at the hotel. But he spends most nights here behind that poker table. I heard him say he used to teach at an Eastern College. I got the sense he left in a hurry if you know what I mean.”
Like a lot of people out here, Luke thought to himself. The west was filled with people leaving something and hoping for better.
“Thanks,” he said to her as he tossed money on the bar for their drinks, then a silver dollar across to her.
She frowned down at the dollar then back at him. “So, you’re sweet on Rebecca Johnson then?”
“Why do you say that?” he said as his stomach clenched up tight. Was it that obvious?
She laughed. “Call it a woman’s intuition. I’ve tried every trick in the trade and you ain’t even blinked. Only a man in love acts that way.”
Luke tipped his hat then turned to leave. The sooner he was away the sooner he could push those thoughts out of his head. It was impossible for him to be in love with Rebecca. The war had burned that out of him. No, it was impossible.
Chapter Ten
Luke spent the next two days snooping around. He rode out to Becky’s ranch, making sure no one saw him with a handful of flowers for her uncle’s grave. But the trip didn’t show him anything useful. This had been Becky’s home he thought with sadness. Was she happy here? Sighing to himself he nodded to old Tom’s grave then held a hand up to shade his eyes as he looked out over the flat desert to the distant mountains.
Turning slowly, he examined the farm and grimaced. The cornfield had been allowed to go fallow. A shutter on the house hung from a leather hinge. An abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere. He shook his head, again, why pay for land that you didn’t need?
When he got back to town it was late and the restaurant was already closed up tight. A touch of shame flashed through him. He should have pushed it and gotten back sooner. He didn’t like the idea of Becky walking through town alone.
Later that night he tracked down Doc Weaver at the poker table but learned even less. A quick examination told Luke all he needed to know. A well-built man in his thirties. Sharp dressed with fine hands. Clean-shaven and new boots. But most of all, a well-worn holster for his gun. This was a man who practiced. Something to know.
Weaver’s story matched up with everyone else’s. For a moment, he wondered if the man was hiding something, but his story was too much like the others and the whole town couldn’t be lying. Not without someone giving it away.
He thanked the gambler and made his way back to the hotel. The next day he hit every merchant and business in town. Asking if anyone knew anything about Tom’s death. Again, coming up with nothing.
Finally, he stopped by the bank. He had saved it for last hoping to have more information to check with the banker. When he was shown into the Bank President’s small office the man behind the desk stood and held out his hand. Luke made an instant judgment. Conservative to the point of stupid.
Three-piece suit in a hot office. A derby hat on the hat rack. A man who thought he was in one of them New York buildings, not some hick western town.
“Mr. Tuthill,” Luke began as he sat down across from the man. “You may have heard. I’m