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Inside, the room was a bit nicer than expected for a small town like
Colter, but Bradford Maltin didn’t notice. He put his valise down beside the
bed and began to pace the room.
“Nothing’s going right,” he seemed
to be addressing the gods, informing them that they were falling down on the
job.
Bradford stopped pacing and faced his son.
“Let’s start from the beginning. How’d you meet this Lena?”
“Leona.” Will dropped his valise
onto the floor.
“Leona! How’d you meet her?”
Episode Four:
“Last spring when Mother sent me
here to help Uncle Earl and Aunt Connie. That was right after Uncle Earl’s
accident--”
“Yes, yes,
how’d you meet the girl?”
“They let
me come into town on Saturday night. Leona was a waitress at the restaurant.”
Bradford’s
voice dripped sarcasm. “And you two became right cordial.”
“One night
we took a walk and stopped under a tree outside of town…”
“Okay, okay.
When did you find out she was pregnant?”
“She sent a
letter to me in Denver.”
“Did you
write her back?”
Will fell
silent.
“Did you
write her back?!”
“No.”
“And the
letter I found, the one about the baby being born, was the second and last one
she sent you?”
“Yes. She
named the baby Samuel.”
“I know
that!”
Bradford
looked about the room hurriedly, and for the first time noticed it was well kept
and had an ashtray on a table beside the bed. He crushed the remaining stub of
his cigar into the tray in a gesture of anger. “Nothing in all that to interest
a detective. Why did a detective come to Colter and kill Curt Tatum?”
Will
shrugged his shoulders. “Probably didn’t have anything to do with Colter. That
sign called Tatum a killer. The detective could have been after him for
something he did somewhere else.”
A surge of
anger coursed through the businessman. His son was no doubt right. It was so
obvious. Why didn’t he think of it?
“I just
wasted five hundred dollars,” Bradford was talking primarily to himself. “At
least I didn’t give him the whole thousand up front. Well, as the old saw goes,
if you want something done right, do it yourself.”
Will
Bradford’s eyes flamed as he began to understand his father’s words. “Did you
hire Curt Tatum to get Samuel?”
“Yes.” The
older Bradford was consumed by private thoughts as he plotted his next move.
“What was
Tatum supposed to do about Leona?” Will’s voice sounded incredulous.
His father
didn’t notice. “Kill her. She could have caused trouble. Wasn’t worth taking a
chance. Tatum was supposed to take the baby to your Aunt and Uncle’s place.
They would keep it till your mother and I came for it. I would have made up
some cockeyed story to explain it all. Would have worked. Your mother would
love to have another child, and I own that ranch her brother and his wife work.
They wouldn’t have asked questions.”
Will
Bradford’s heart began to beat faster and he felt faint. He had always cherished
the times he spent with his Aunt and Uncle. Their ranch was a special place for
him. But there was nothing special about it,--just one more piece of land his
father owned.
The young
man inhaled deeply as if to maintain consciousness. His father had talked so
casually about killing Leona, as if ordering her dead was like squashing one of
his burnt out cigars.
“Why?!”
Will’s voice sounded like something between a shout and a sob. “Why kill her?
She never hurt you.”
Bradford
took a few quick steps toward his son, then back handed him viciously across
the face. The young man stumbled but managed to stay on his feet.
“I’ll tell
you why,” Bradford Maltin spoke in a low rumble. “Because your older brother
died rescuing you from drowning. You’re worthless. You might as well have been
a girl. Your mother can’t have any more kids. I’ve worked like a dog all my
life, and I want someone to leave my property to. I need a grandson. Samuel may
be a stray, but he’s still my flesh and blood.”
Will
slurred his words a bit, his father’s assault still had his head ringing, “I’ll
marry someday, h...ave ch...ildren.”
“You’re
going to Boston this fall to school. You’ll probably settle down there and
marry some Eastern canary. Your kids will be as worthless as you are.”
Will was
beginning to regain his balance and his speech. “You hate me.”
The
statement seemed to make his father a bit whimsical. “Not really. There’s
nothing to hate about you, Will, you’re just a weakling. Don’t worry. I’ll pay
for your schooling. You can visit us for a few weeks every summer. We’ll have
us a real nice family picnic.”
Bradford
chuckled lightly; he seemed genuinely amused. Will’s body trembled.
“Go to your
room and stay there.” The amusement was gone from the older man’s voice. “I
brought you along because I thought I might need you. Things don’t seem to be
going that way. Take supper in the dining room downstairs. I’ll come for you if
need be.”
Will
desperately wanted to disobey his father, or at least make a cutting remark as
he left. He did none of that. He picked up his valise and walked out of the
room, gently closing the door behind him.
Bradford
lit another cigar and began to pace the room. He didn’t know where the girl was
staying. That letter to Will he had found had the address of Colter’s post
office station. He puffed on the cigar and remembered what his hired gun had
told him. “Folks love to gossip. In a place like Colter there will be people
who know where she’s keepin’ the kid. Won’t be hard to find out. A few hours in
a saloon should do it.”
Bradford
Maltin laughed as he left his room. His associates back in Denver didn’t think
of him as a generous man. But on this day, he’d be the one setting up the
drinks.
Monday: Episode Five
of Full Moon