Murder at Thumb Butte (A Steve Dancy Tale) by James D. Best

Author:James D. Best [Best, James D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Queen Beach
Published: 2011-06-18T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

“Maggie! Wow, ya’ve grown!”

Sharp looked to be in a good mood, considering the circumstances. He leaned his cheek against the bars, and Maggie gave him a passing kiss that probably never touched his two-day growth of beard.

“Back away from the cell!” the jailer yelled in a loud and shrill voice. He was nervous because I had bribed him to let us both go down to the cell.

Maggie dutifully retreated, but she didn’t look the slightest bit remorseful that she had broken the rules. When she had backed up against the wall, she said, “I’ve had my fifteenth birthday, and I’ve solved my first crime.”

This was news to me. “What crime?”

“Nothing big. I overheard a Goldwater clerk complain that a man had snuck out of the store with a lady’s garment. I knew immediately that he was no gentleman, so I walked along the boardwalk peeking into the saloons. Soon I saw a grisly scoundrel trying to buy the favors of a saloon dancer with a new dress. I informed Constable Earp, and Goldwater’s rewarded me with a new hair ribbon.”

“What did Mrs. Schmidt reward you with?” I asked.

She waved offhandedly. “No matter. I don’t know why I brought it up.” She held out the biscuits. “I brought you some biscuits, Mr. Sharp. Mrs. Cunningham made them fresh this morning, and she’s a wonderful cook.”

“Well, thank ya, Maggie. That’s very thoughtful.” Jeff turned one of his wicked grins at me. “An’ Steve, what did ya bring this poor maligned prisoner?”

“Maggie, to brighten your otherwise dull day.”

“And a great gift she is. How ya doin’, darlin’?”

She curtsied. “Very well, thank you. I’m working with Mr. Dancy to get you out of here.”

We had both rescued Maggie from an abductor, but Sharp was definitely Maggie’s favorite. I felt rebuffed but consoled myself that Sharp was always the favorite of the ladies.

“Don’t get yerself in trouble, young lady,” Sharp warned.

“I won’t. I have the greatest gunman in the territory looking out for me, and the greatest detective in the world for a father. The real murderer should be quaking in his boots.”

“Well, on that score, I have a bit of news. Lew Davis, the day manager over at the Palace, brought me a bucket of beer yesterday afternoon, an’ he said somethin’ that’s been naggin’ at me.”

Instead of answering, I lifted an eyebrow.

“He said he was sorry for my troubles—like he knew I didn’t do it. An’ why the hell should he be sorry? I barely met the man.”

“Maybe he’s feeling guilty. Making amends,” Maggie said, with too much excitement.

“Did he say anything else?” I asked.

“Nope. Nothin’ of interest about the murder anyway.”

“Jeff, is this your gut speaking? Because it sure seems weak.”

“Maybe. Somethin’ just didn’t feel right.

I thought it over. “Well, he was swindled by Campbell, and he works days, so he was free to wander about late at night.” I pushed myself away from the wall. “We’ll look into it.”

“Yes, we will,” echoed Maggie.

Jeff’s revelation disturbed me, but I chose to ignore it for the moment.

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