Shooting For Justice, G. Tilman [best historical fiction books of all time .txt] 📗
- Author: G. Tilman
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When Pope got back to the office, Kane was waiting for him. They went into Pope’s office and closed the door.
“Anything new on your ‘father in law’?” Pope asked.
“Yes, actually. He left a note for me at the guest house this morning. He said he hoped we were not harmed in the shooting last night. He may have been in the crowd. Remember, as an actor, he is a past master at disguise.
“He said he would meet us two miles north of town today. I have already gotten a horse from the livery stable for the ride. Unless you think we need a buggy.”
“The use I had in mind for a buggy or buckboard was more of a body disposal nature than we could do in daylight,” Pope said. His friend grinned evilly.
“John, he wants to meet at three o’clock. He was insistent I come alone. I don’t know how we will hide you.”
“Don’t worry. I will ride out before two and hide myself. Was he specific about the location beyond just two miles north?” Pope asked.
“Yes, he said by a big oak tree with a branch going all the way across the road.”
“I suspect I can find it with no trouble. Just in case, take this police whistle to signal me if you don’t want to signal by Colt,” Pope said as he handed the whistle from Washington to Kane.
“Sarah is coming into town today to stop by her new office. She should be here anytime. Why don’t you go get Rita and we’ll eat lunch together? Mind you, I have not told her any details about your matter.”
“Sounds like a plan to me!” Kane said and left to pick up his wife. Pope picked up on the Colt and the butt of his Bowie knife printing in the back flap of Kane’s suit coat as he walked out of the office. With the badge pinned on his lapel, Pope did not have to worry much about such things anymore. Of course, he never had anyway.
Sarah rode in on horseback a few minutes later, instead of driving Grandpa’s buckboard. She tied up outside the office next to Caesar.
“Seen your little girlfriend yet?” Sarah said with a mischievous, though not malevolent grin.
“I have, in fact. She was a bit subdued since the shooter I put in jail last night is one of her disappointed suitors. Stupid kid. May have ruined his life over a teen romance.”
“Well, I’ll be! The little minx.”
“Harriett did not come. Lane all but admitted his wife’s moods were sickness related. He said they really missed Millie.”
“Well, they have to get past me to get her back,” Sarah said.
“You, me, Grandpa, Scout and Caesar you mean.”
“Do you have a big day planned?” she asked.
“Not really. I have to ride north on business after lunch. Otherwise, continue to become oriented to the job and the citizens. I still don’t know my way around too well. All my visits here to Grandpa have been local to his property. Things like building the cabin, hunting with him and all. I need to know where things are. I have to be able to respond quickly if something happened,” Pope said.
“Exactly. Who would have ever believed somebody would shoot up a guest house in San Rafael? Amazing the effect Mattie has on men,” Sarah observed.
“Well, boys at least. Soon, I suspect her wiles will affect men. We will see significant effects then.” Sarah held her response.
“Is this your official first day at the office?” he asked.
“No. We are still on holiday. But your holiday passed when you resigned. Thank goodness, Hume does not appear to hold the grudge now he did earlier.”
“Especially for your sake,” Pope said.
“He never seemed agitated with me. Only you. I suspect he was grooming you to succeed him one day.”
“I think I’d have to wait thirty years to succeed him. He will signal retirement when his lifeless head hits the desk,” Pope said, unaware how prophetic his words would prove to be.
“We have lunch with the Kanes later this morning or early afternoon,” Pope said.
“I’m glad. You going to pick me up?” she asked.
“I will. See you shortly actually.”
“Well, I am going to arrange my new desk and see what supplies I might need. I have my new, small twenty-gauge sawed-off scattergun in my purse. It’s awfully handy. I didn’t know they even made buckshot for such a small gauge,” Sarah said.
“They do. It’s more popular than you might realize. With the reduced recoil, you can get your second shot off faster. And, if you need to touch off both barrels at the same time, it won’t fly back and knock you unconscious like the old ten gauge could. I almost wish the ten was a loose powder and shot percussion. Then, we could reduce the powder charge. It was fine when it was four feet long. Whacking off the barrel and stock was a mistake. Made it almost unusable.”
Pope’s comment gave Sarah an idea. She would look into it later in the day. Perhaps when Pope rode north on whatever mission he had. A similar gun might be handy for a county sheriff. He was a difficult person for whom to choose gifts.
She went on to the office and set up her desk. She had assembled an investigative satchel like Pope’s. It had a magnifying glass, sketch pad and pencil, tweezers, small evidence sacks, ruler and measuring tape and more. Pope had surprised her with a Dietz police lantern and metal fuel bottle upon her appointment to the regional detective position. He also urged her to keep her saddlebags filled with coffee, rudimentary cooking gear, a knife and hatchet, ammunition, and a blanket. She already had the shotgun, carbine, and poncho. She was ready
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