Dissimiles: More's the Pity by Wesley Payton

Author:Wesley Payton [Payton, Wesley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Small Town; Amateur Sleuth; Suspense; Train
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

The old man put away the grooming kit and pulled his scarf tight around his neck. As he walked toward the door, Aegis neighed loudly. He turned toward the horse. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back again tomorrow, God willing.”

A man entered through the door at the other end of the barn, letting in an icy gust of air.

“I didn’t expect you to return so soon,” said the old man. He studied the outline of the figure in the shadows at the far end of the stables, realizing that Edwin had not returned. “Leave here or I shall be forced to call the authorities.”

The shadowy figure stood motionless. The old man turned back toward the door and walked as quickly as his cane would allow. The door opened to reveal a tall man blocking his escape. Aegis neighed again.

****

Mr. Whip carried the old man’s lifeless body over his shoulder, walking toward the other side of the stables.

“Where are you taking him?” asked Mr. Snide.

“I’m going to toss him in the snow. He has dementia, right? Maybe they’ll think he just wandered off and froze to death.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Mr. Whip stopped in front of the door and turned back around. “Who do you think he was referring to when he thought you’d returned ‘so soon’?”

“I don’t know—could’ve been somebody from a long time ago,” answered Mr. Snide. “Like you say, he has…had dementia.”

“Yeah…that makes sense. Okay, you do the other thing while I take him outside to make a snow angel.”

“I’m on it.”

Mr. Whip opened the door and exited the barn, though a moment later he stepped back inside.

“I guess he didn’t wander far.” Mr. Snide turned to see that Mr. Whip still had the old man slung over his shoulder.

“There are fresh footprints out there in the snow that lead up to this door.”

Mr. Snide grinned. “Yeah genius, they’re mine.”

“No, I see yours too, but these other prints have a different tread mark in them. You didn’t notice them when you came in?”

“Huh, I must’ve missed them…probably made by one of the ranch hands—or feet, more accurately.”

“Sure, probably.” Mr. Whip took the old man back out into the cold.

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