Trouble Rides Tall Cross the Red Creek Desert Stake-Out by Harry Whittington

Author:Harry Whittington [Whittington, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense & Thrillers, Mysteries & Detective, Hardboiled, Westerns
ISBN: 9781944520113
Publisher: Stark House Press
Published: 2017-07-01T23:00:00+00:00

TEN

The courtroom emptied slowly, people leaving unwillingly as if disappointed. There Had been no guilty sentence, no hanging. What had happened to justice?

Outside people stood in groups on the boardwalk, discussing the outrageous verdict.

Jim waited in his chair, feeling a weakness and a sense of relief at the same time. He was still alive.

Beside him, the sheriff sat withdrawn and silent.

Kip Bowne let Isabel leave the courtroom without him. He leaned against the judge’s pine table before the sheriff and Jim.

“I’m glad it went this way, Gilmore,” Kip said. “I believe you’re innocent. Though ask me why I do, and I couldn’t tell you.”

“You’re young,” the sheriff said, staring up at Kip, “easy swayed,”

“I don’t think so,” Kip said. “Nobody proved Gilmore guilty.”

“Or innocent,” Walker said. He stared at Jim. “You’re free.”

Then the sheriff got up and stalked from the room without looking back.

Kip smiled. “Once Tom makes up his mind, it’s hard to change.”

Dr. Knoblock came forward. He was a thin, scholarly appearing man almost as tall as Jim. He smelled of antiseptic and peppermint. He said, “Well, young fellow, now you’re free, what you expect to do?”

Jim stood up, exhaling. “Look for a place to live.”

The doctor scowled, “Here?”

“I got to live somewhere.”

“My lord,” Dr. Knoblock said. “You got to live among people that hate you—people who think you’re guilty of murder?”

Jim spread his hands. “What would they think if it suddenly left here?”

“Just what they think now … that you are guilty,” the doctor said and walked away.

Kip grinned sheepishly. “From the way these folks act, you wouldn’t think they’re the salt of the earth, would you?”

“I know how they feel about me.”

“And you’re staying?”

Jim got his money, buckled on his gunbelt. “Until I know what I’m going to do.”

Kip Bowne shook his head. “Man, I’m like Doc Knoblock. I’d hit the road out of here.” He saw the set look in Jim’s face, shrugged. “Come on, get your horse and saddle from the jail.”

Jim counted his money, pocketed it. This was all he had to show for years of sweat and labor in the Winter Sage country. What would it buy him here? Yet, what would it buy him anywhere? You were always running away from something, and it never worked. One place looked as good as another right now.

He followed Kip Bowne toward the doors. The courtroom was empty, hotly silent in midday heat. Flies buzzed at the window and talk floated in, tense and angry, from the street.

When they came down the steps to the boardwalk, the knots of people fell silent, staring at Jim.

He set his battered Stetson on his head and walked through them. He could hear the whispers start behind his back. Whispers. God knew it was no wonder Eualie had been so miserable at the way folks lied about her back in Winter Sage.

A tall girl with red-gold hair stopped them on the walk.

“I don’t want you to think all of us are like Abel Tornet,” she said. “Some of us wish you well.

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