Annie Gets Her Gunmen Read online

  As soon as A. Wallace had entered, he’d held hope another might shake things up, but when it turned out to be Alistair’s daughter, Cletus prepared to boot her out. Then he saw the way Larsen had looked at her and an idea took root. Once Butler showed up and gave Miss Wallace the same sappy look, Cletus figured having a woman in the contest might just give him an edge. With the two top contenders making moon eyes over her, perhaps they’d slip up. Cletus relished the idea that he might finally bring home a victory in this damn contest.

  Cletus had never won a first place in all the twelve years he’d entered. Thus far, his big win was second place and even that had been ten years ago.

  He decided that even if Miss Wallace managed to shoot well enough and made the score with the first few rounds, by the time they got to the final round she’d be out shot. Lo and behold, she was the best shot he’d seen yet.

  Damn Virgil. He’d assured Cletus he had sordid information that would keep Miss Wallace out of the final round, only he hadn’t shared the damn secret. Then he’d up and got his self murdered before revealing the information.

  Cletus fisted his hands and tried to calm down. As he pondered what Virgil’s big secret might be, another notion occurred to him. What if Miss Wallace really did murder Virgil to ensure he kept the confidence? He’d be remiss in not mentioning it to the sheriff but didn’t want to come across as a nosy parker. Everyone might figure out his true motivation to get in to the finals.

  However, if Cletus talked to the sheriff and “accidentally” shared the one piece of secret gossip Virgil had mentioned regarding Miss Wallace, then he’d be in the clear.

  * * * *

  Annabel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it. Her final and ultimate chance to prove her skill in this competition. She had to shoot first with a pistol and then with her rifle to win. And each shot had to be perfect.

  Favorite rifle in hand, she marched to the mark with a confidence she wasn’t sure would continue for long. She raised her weapon, tucking the stock against the inside of her shoulder with a practiced ease. The countless number of times she’d practiced with this rifle near her father’s workshop back home flitted through her mind.

  She could do this.

  One eye slid closed to line up the shot. Her body, strung taut and rigid, was as still as frozen water. Annabel breathed slowly until she got the target sighted in just like she’d done a hundred times before.

  Tuning out the crowd, Annabel focused on her breathing.

  In and out. In and out. Focus on the target.

  She extended her forefinger and placed it against the trigger. Remember, squeeze it. Don’t jerk up. Relax.

  Annabel pushed the air completely from her lungs and squeezed the trigger.

  Everything happened as if in slow motion. She swore she watched the bullet travel all the way to the center of the target, exactly where she wanted it to go.

  Bull’s-eye.

  She almost forgot to take a new breath as she looked at her perfect shot displayed in the target fifty feet away. Next up was a single shot with her pistol at twenty-five feet.

  Shaking off the triumph of her first shot, Annabel went through the same tune out sound and focus on the target routine that she’d done with her rifle.

  A second shot and another perfect score.

  Garrett and Dane each shot very well during their rounds, but both of their bullets from the rifle fire were slightly off center in the very middle of the target. Hers was exactly in the center of both targets.

  The other two finalists didn’t even come close. Neither hit the bull’s-eye with either shot from rifle or pistol.

  In her mind, she’d won. Garrett and Dane definitely tied for second place and another round between them would determine second place and third place. The only question became would they allow her the official first place win.

  “Looks like you did it, sugar,” Dane whispered as she stood on the platform with the other four finalists. “You whipped our pants off but good.”

  She stifled a giggle that rushed up and sent her gaze to the wooden planked platform to get herself under control.

  On the other side of her, Garrett also leaned in and whispered, “Congratulations, Annie.”

  Annabel fought a rising surge of excitement and blinked back tears threatening to erupt.

  The judges spent an enormous amount of time discussing the targets. All of them, including Cletus, crowded around the table, discussing it in low tones. Annabel figured they were trying to figure out a way to keep her from claiming the first place prize.

  After several minutes, Cletus finally stood and ambled over to the where the five contestants waited. He turned to the crowd milling around and shouted, “If you’ll all gather around, we’re ready to announce the winners and award the prize money and plaques.”

  “Fifth place goes to Hank Smith.” There was applause from the folks standing at the base of the platform as Cletus handed him a plaque and a small leather satchel.

  “Fourth place goes to Jeremiah Morgan.” After he’d received his plaque and bag of coins, Cletus cleared his throat. “We have an unusual situation here with the next prize award. The judges have talked at length, and we’ve come to a decision.”

  Annabel froze in place. Were they about to award first place to either Dane or Garrett because they never expected a woman to win?

  “There won’t be a third place plaque this year as both Dane Larsen and Garrett Butler have tied for second place.”

  Both hands shot to her face. Dane and Garrett each put a hand on her back in congratulations.

  “And that means Annabel Wallace has won first place and for the first time in the Wyoming Territory’s Sharpshooter Contest history, a woman has won that honor. With two perfect shots in the final round, she shot a near perfect score every time she faced off with the target. Congratulations, Annabel.” Cletus looked almost sincere as he handed her the first place plaque and the hefty leather purse.

  “Thank you very much.”

  She barely had time to get used to the weight of the coins in her hand when Sheriff Barnes forced his way through the crowd, climbed the few stairs of the platform and strode over to stand in front of her. His facial expression bordered on reluctance. With the sound of resignation in his tone, he said, “Annabel Wallace, you’re under arrest for the murder of Virgil Dunlop.”

  * * * *

  “What?” Garrett asked as Barnes muscled Annabel off the stage. “Why in God’s name would you arrest her?”

  At the same time, Dane muttered, “What the fuck?”

  Barnes didn’t answer. The two of them followed a pale, silent Annabel as Sheriff Barnes propelled her across the street and through the door of the small jailhouse.

  Garrett put a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder to get his attention once they all were inside. “Barnes, you didn’t answer me.”

  He stopped and turned to Garrett. “This is my town, and while I don’t owe you any answers, I’ll just say that we found evidence that she was there in the room.”

  “I was not!” Annabel turned to the sheriff. “I would never have gone to his room.”

  “Well, now someone’s come forth that said you had a liaison planned with Virgil the night before he died.”

  Her eyes widened. “Whoever told you that is a liar.” Annabel’s crimson cheeks displayed the high level of her anger.

  “Well, that’s what Virgil told the witness, and I can’t discount it, whether or not I believe it.”

  “Don’t I at least get a chance to explain and defend myself?”

  Barnes shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “Virgil tried to blackmail me, but I ignored him. I did not go to his room.”

  Sheriff Barnes scratched his chin and looked interested for the first time. “What did he know about you for any blackmail?”

  “None of your business,” she answered quickly.

  “Not exactly a convincing explanation for why you wouldn’t go to his ro
om.”

  Garrett figured he better say something or settle things down. “Sheriff Barnes, could we have a private word?”

  “Sure, just as soon as I lock up my prisoner.” He grabbed Annabel’s arm again and turned her toward the open door where Garrett knew the jail cells resided.

  “Is that really necessary?” Dane asked.

  Sheriff Barnes pushed her along two more steps before he paused. Turning, he let out a long sigh. “If it were entirely up to me—and it ain’t—I wouldn’t have even arrested her. But I answer to the mayor and he’s got his back up over Virgil’s death.”

  “Why, is Virgil a friend of the mayor?”

  “No, but this is the second year in a row where one of the contestants in the Annual Shooter’s contest has died. The mayor wants me to find Virgil’s killer. Cletus was already madder than a walloped hornet’s nest over not making it in to the final round. He and Virgil were friends, and he complained to the mayor. This town depends on the annual contest to bring folks in each year to spend their money. Guess the mayor figures no one will want to come if folks keep getting killed.”

  “Which still doesn’t explain why you arrested Annabel.”

  “Like I said, I have evidence she was there.”

  “What is this evidence?” Annabel asked.

  “A personal belonging of yours was found in Virgil’s room.” He grabbed her arm again and pushed her towards the jail cells. “And that’s all I’m willing to say for now. The judge will convene court early tomorrow morning. The evidence will be presented, and you’ll have your say.”

  “Annabel,” Garrett called. She turned, and he could see in her eyes she was worried. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out and have you out of jail in no time.”

  She nodded but didn’t look convinced. Garrett could hardly blame her.

  * * * *

  When Barnes returned, Garrett pulled him aside out of earshot of the others. “I want to know what evidence you have.” Barnes’ lips flattened as if he sealed them from the inside, afraid to reveal information. “As a fellow sheriff, I was invited into Virgil’s room, and I didn’t see anything. Don’t cut me out of this. I need to know, so I can find out who really killed Virgil. It wasn’t her.”

  Barnes sighed and rolled his eyes. “We found one of Miss Wallace’s handkerchiefs in Virgil’s room. The exact same kind of cloth she used to wipe the back of her neck and forehead just before she shot in each round of the shooter’s competition. Everyone saw it. Everyone knows they had a battle from the first. Are you sure she didn’t have anything to do with Virgil’s death?”

  “Positive.” Garrett didn’t say out loud that she’d been intimately in his and Dane’s arms the night before Virgil’s death, but that was the truth. Although, she would have had plenty of time to put a bottle of poisoned whiskey in his room and still meet them, Garrett knew she didn’t have it in her to kill. He wondered who else did.

  Garrett’s first inclination was Cletus. He had no doubt as to the identity of the “witness” telling tall tales after Virgil’s death.

  “You being a well-respected sheriff might help her case tomorrow but only if you were with her during the time in question. I happen to know you were asking just about everyone in town where Virgil was the day before his death was discovered.”

  “And yet you didn’t arrest me? I’m touched.” Garrett glanced over his shoulder at Dane. He looked antsy and ready to bolt out of the jailhouse.

  “Well now, poison isn’t the most common way men settle disputes. Would you agree?”

  Garrett shrugged. “Perhaps, but it still doesn’t mean Annabel did it.”

  “No, but the method of death is another factor I had to consider. And you would have done the same, if you weren’t personally invested in the suspect’s life.” Barnes crossed his arms and his expression revealed a knowledge of just how invested he was in Annabel’s life. Their intimacy likely wasn’t as secret as he’d like to believe.

  “If I can prove she didn’t do it, will you let her go?” Garrett decided his best bet was to corner Cletus and persuade him to talk.

  “I’d pretty much need another suspect to put in custody.”

  Garrett pushed out a long breath, wondering just how long it would take him to discover the true murderer. “Then I’ll return as quickly as I can.”

  Outside in the street, Larsen followed Garrett as they walked several yards away from the crowd of contest spectators milling around and still whispering about Annabel’s arrest.

  “We need to find out who really murdered Virgil.” Garrett scanned the throngs of townsfolk looking for a viable suspect, although he wanted to spend some quality time with Cletus to find out if he was the big mouth witness Barnes was referring to earlier.

  “Fine. You go do that, and I’ll figure out a way to break Annabel out of jail.”

  Garrett, so enthralled in his own plans, didn’t hear what Dane had said at first. He took a step away then turned back. “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me. She doesn’t belong in there. She didn’t kill Virgil. And before they decide to string her up in front of the same crowd who watched her win the contest, I believe we should break her out of jail and take her as far away as we can get.”

  Garrett sent him a very incredulous look. “I can’t do that. I’m a lawman.”

  “Don’t you love her enough?”

  He didn’t even have to think about his answer. “As a matter of fact, I do love her enough, but surely we could consider a lawful approach first.”

  “No. I want her out of jail right now.”

  “If we break her out, won’t that just make her look even guiltier? And where will we run to? Colorado’s out. We all live there, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I don’t know but somewhere else besides here. Maybe up into the mountains.”

  “Use your brain and not your heart, Larsen. Let’s go talk to Cletus and find out what lies he spewed to get her arrested before we do something we can’t take back that only makes the situation worse.”

  Larsen’s expression tightened. “I’ll give you an hour, and then with or without you, I’m getting her out of jail.”

  Garrett certainly sympathized with his gut reaction to blindly and boldly break her out of her confinement and spend the rest of their lives running from the law, but he tried to be more practical. He’d been associated with the law for long enough to know he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of it.

  Before they took a step in the direction of where Cletus stood by the platform, Mrs. Edna Dempsey, baby clutched to her chest, hurried across the street with a worried expression on her face. Garrett hadn’t spoken to Edna since a few days before the contest when he’d rescued Annabel from the bandits. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to now.

  “Sheriff Butler, why would they arrest poor Miss Annabel for Virgil’s murder? She couldn’t possibly have done such a terrible thing.” The baby stirred against her and made a small fussing noise. Without changing her expression of worry, she automatically started rocking her child to soothe it.

  “Don’t fret, Mrs. Dempsey. We plan to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

  She cast a curious glance at Larsen before returning her attention to Garrett. “Please call me Edna. What in the world could have made them arrest her? I just don’t understand this at all. Miss Annabel is the sweetest of people.”

  Garrett sighed. “Apparently they found her embroidered handkerchief hidden in the bed where they found his body. They think she was in his room sometime before he died. She’s a suspect because of Virgil’s animosity towards her before and during the shooting competition. ”

  Edna’s face went blank, and her eyes narrowed a moment as if she tried to recall something. After a few seconds, she brightened. “But she’s sweet on you, Sheriff. She wouldn’t have any reason to go to Virgil’s room.”

  The baby started crying in earnest, and Edna shifted her wiggling bundle into the crook of her arm. “I’ve
got to get my little Charlotte back to the hotel for a nap. She’s so sleepy.” The blanket opened, and Garrett got his first peek at the baby. The combination of dark hair and coloring with bright blue eyes was very striking. She’d break hearts one day. Charlotte was a beautiful baby. And looked so familiar, Garrett leaned in to take a longer look. He’d never really paid attention to her child’s features before now.

  “Charlotte is very pretty.” Garrett looked at Edna and added, “I think she favors her father in coloring.”

  Edna frowned. “Did you know John?”

  Garrett traded a glance with Larsen and nodded. “Yes, I did. John Dempsey was a regular competitor in the annual shooting contest. And also the man who died last year in the brawl at the saloon, am I right?”

  Larsen glanced at the child, and his eyebrows went straight to his hairline. Apparently, he saw what Garrett did.

  Edna lowered her head. “Yes. It was a terrible tragedy. It happened so late, he had to wake me up to tell me John was dead. I cried for a long time that night,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Was Virgil the one who came to tell you John had died?”

  Edna nodded and looked down at the baby. “They buried John in the cemetery just outside of Pine Haven. That’s one of the reasons why I came back this year. I wanted to visit his grave.” The baby hiccupped and grinned up at Garrett. He remembered John Dempsey as a freckled-faced red head with vibrant green eyes.

  Edna had light brown hair, a fair complexion and brown eyes. Charlotte, with her darker coloring and bright blue eyes, was the spitting image of Virgil Dunlop, right down to the cleft in her small chin.

  “Maybe we could go have a chat in the hotel, Mrs. Dempsey.”

  She turned to look back at the jailhouse building with a worried expression. “I really need to go talk to Sheriff Barnes.”

  “What will you tell him?”

  “I’ll tell him that Miss Annabel couldn’t possibly have poisoned Virgil. I just know she could never do such a horrible thing.”