Field Of Death by Stephen Overholser

Author:Stephen Overholser [Stephen Overholser]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428505254
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2008-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Thanks,” Aaron said.

“You going to hunt him up?”

Aaron nodded.

“Well, say howdy for me,” the policeman said.

“I will,” Aaron said. He walked down the steps and had reached the gate before he realized he did not know the policeman’s name. Aaron looked back and saw that the portico was empty. The door was slowly closing, leaving Aaron with an eerie feeling.

Aaron rode his machine down Armbrister Hill and across town toward the boarding house. On the way he took a familiar turn and wheeled past the red brick building that had once housed Mills Job Printers. The structure had been converted to a warehouse for a mining supply company. Aaron slowed, saw where his father’s sign had been painted over, and then he rode on to the boarding house.

Events of the day had stirred countless memories in Aaron’s mind. He remembered his father. One image in his mind was as clear as a photograph. He saw his father sitting at the rolltop desk in the front office of Mills Job Printers. Jacob Mills turned in his swivel chair, looked up at Aaron, and smiled.

Aaron saw irony in one fact. The great mansion atop Armbrister Hill was slipping into ruin while at the bottom of the hill the modest house that Aaron grew up in was freshly painted, and the owners thought enough of the wallpaper upstairs to pull the shade against the afternoon sun.

In the morning Aaron explained to Homer Witt why he wanted to interview Ross Hogan. Witt was skeptical about the plan and doubted that Aaron would learn much that was new in the Harriet Armbrister murder case.

“Maybe not,” Aaron said, “but he might know of a woman named Sadie Anne Coltrane.”

Witt smiled. “Now, there’s an interesting notion. Let me know what you’ve found out when you get back.”

Aaron rode his Green Machine downtown to the City Livery. He rented a one-horse buggy and got directions from the liveryman on how to drive to Clear Creek Canyon. The canyon was less than twenty miles away.

Once Aaron left Denver, he pushed the horse hard and reached the mouth of the canyon before noon. Clear Creek was the color of rust. Aaron stopped beside the stream and ate a lunch he had brought while the harnessed horse grazed nearby. The air that came on a mountain breeze was cool and smelled of pine.

Aaron followed the freight road up the canyon, past a noisy stamp mill where ore was crushed, and a collection of shacks and cabins. Aaron saw a few miners farther up the canyon. They wore overalls and knee-high boots splattered with mud. From one of them he received directions to Sunrise Gulch and the Hogan cabin.

Sunrise Gulch was marked by a crude sign on a stake beside the road. The gulch was a narrow, steep-sided rift between two mountains. The mountainsides were covered with pine trees, growing as thick as hair on a hide.

The road that ran up the gulch was little more than two deep ruts ground into the rocky earth by the heavy wheels of ore wagons.

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