Maddie McDowell and the Rodeo Robbery by LuAnn M. Rod

Author:LuAnn M. Rod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken Scratch, LLC
Published: 2021-04-26T22:20:03+00:00

Chapter 22

WE ARGUED ALL THE WAY BACK to the tents.

Roy was bound and determined to make nothing out of the gun I found in the old shack and I wasn’t in a good mood as a result.

“That’s no evidence,” he said about a thousand or more times. “Anyone could have put it there. It could have been there a long time. And besides, we don’t even know if it’s the gun that was fired.”

“Right,” I hollered back. “Anybody that had a reason to hide a gun could have put it there. How many people do you know have reason to hide a gun in an old shack? Behind a bucket.”

“Just about anybody in the rodeo,” he shot back at me.

“How can you say that? You know these people.”

Roy’s face stared back at me. “We have no evidence,” he said and stalked away.

I trailed behind, thinking.

If it was the gun that had been fired, that shooter would have had to hightail it back to the rodeo straight quick in order to put it in the shack and not arouse suspicion. Why would they hide it in the first place where lots of people could find it? Why not hang on to it?

But it was possible. With nearly everyone connected to the rodeo at the parade that morning, someone making their way back to the rodeo grounds even a little bit ahead of the rest of the group would have the whole place pretty much to themselves. The shack was an easy place to hide the gun in case anyone—like a Pinkerton—was looking for someone who had fired one and endangered the public.

I felt inside my pocket, the silky smooth feel of the handle against my fingers. I wasn’t going to leave it there for the villain to pick up and use on some other innocent bystander, or me, since he, or she, failed the first time.

But right now, I could see the stands starting to fill with townspeople and visitors. The local paper had reported miles of automobiles would be crawling into Boulder City like ants crawling toward an anthill. Everyone was headed into town to see the cowboys and cowgirls ride, rope, and race.

And I was supposed to be one of them.

I pushed the gun, the gunshot, and Old Soot bolting out of my mind. I needed a clear head for my first rodeo performance.

But first I had to get ready.

“Where have you been,” Bertha scolded as I entered our tent. Roy had continued on to his own abode still muttering about “women.”

“We have to hurry,” Bertha continued, “Monte doesn’t allow anyone to be late for the grand entry. If we’re not there, we don’t ride and he’ll dock your winnings. It’s in the contract.”

“I know,” I snapped. “And you know where I’ve been. Roy and me were taking care of Soot.”

Bertha took a step back and I immediately realized how sharp I’d been. I wished I’d held my tongue. Even Old Joe and Minnie who allowed me a free hand at most anything, wouldn’t abide that tone of voice.

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