The smoke from the heavyset deputy’s shot clears. He paces forward, Lena Bauer close behind him. The pair stop as the survey the trees.

“Son of a...” the man mutters. Shaking his head, he adds, ”I thought for sure I’d seen her.”

Bauer sighs and holsters her pistol. ”Not your fault, Bob. I was the one that saw her. That was right after her. I’m the one who should’ve caught her.” She gives him a rueful smile. ”I’ll be the one to talk it out with Brady. I heard Quinn Murdock might be looking for stage guards. If not, I know the garrison over in Roswell’s still recruiting.”

Bob looks crestfallen. ”Aw, come on, now. He ain’t gonna...”

”Whatever he does, I’ll live with,” she says, managing a smile. She looks up at Cooper. ”Thanks for trying to help, Mr. Cooper. I’m obliged to you.”

She motions back toward the Main Street. ”We’d best get back.”

Albert spun his horse about as the deputies discussed things, looking through the trees. Though eventually he made his way back to Bauer after putting his lariat back into place. "Sorry I couldn't grab her. She's damned lucky ta make it ta the trees - only thing that kept me from gettin' her roped up."

Albert frowned at the commentary from the pair and nodded at the thanks. "Yer welcome, ma'am. If ya don't mind, I'd speak on yer behalf ta the Sheriff. An then I wouldn't mind speakin' more of the matter we were discussin' earlier."

Bauer considers Cooper’s offer. ”You know, Mr. Cooper, I think it best if I go tell the Sheriff what happened by myself. It’s mine to take responsibility for.”

“The Sheriff’s a quiet man. Kinda thoughtful. Hard to know what he’ll think. But I’ll live with whatever decision he makes. However, if you were to go by his office on your own later today and put in a good word for me, I’d be grateful to you.”

She comes to a halt as the trio near the Courthouse. ”If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll meet you back at Ramsey’s as soon as I’ve spoken to Sheriff Brady. I’ll be glad to tell you everything that I can about Reverend Benson.”

Albert frowned briefly, but nodded after a pause. "Sounds good, ma'am. I will see you there."

True to his word, Albert urged Brandy into motion and headed back toward Ramsey's and some coffee.

When Cooper returns to Ramsey’s he finds the modest dining room abuzz with talk. Several tables are occupied by shopkeepers and residents that live close to Lincoln’s Main Street, all talking about the shooting at the saloon. Cooper doesn’t have to hear much to recognize that rumors have already begun to overtake facts among the townsfolk, most fueled by fears of further violence visiting itself upon the county.

Claire Ramsey escorts Cooper to a corner table and pours him a cup of coffee, inquiring if he was hurt with an expression of genuine concern. Once she is assured that he is well, she departs. A few moments later, Patrick Garrett, still seated at the table he was occupying earlier in the morning, stands, puts on his hat, and walks to the exit, seemingly unfazed by the anxious patrons. He nods at Cooper as he leaves.

Ramsey returns to freshen Cooper’s cup when Lena Bauer enters the restaurant. She spies Cooper and joins him. Tapping the star on her vest, she says. ”Seems Brady has even more faith in me than I expected.”

“Still, before the day’s done, I’m going to take a ride south. Have another look at where that shootist disappeared. I’ve got a couple of suspicions about her. Where she might turn up.”

Albert smiled as Bauer entered, and stood respectfully as she approached. He let her take a seat before he retook his own. "I think like many folk ya don't have as much appreciation fer yer own skills as others do, ma'am. Brady knows chasin' outlaws ain't a sure thing."

He nodded at her plan to try to find the hidden shooter. "Do ya wanna backup rider if yer headin' out again? Ain't got no more chores today if ya want me ta come with."

Bauer cocks an eyebrow as she takes a seat. ”You’re sure eager to help out the local law. Don’t misunderstand, I’d be grateful for your help. It’s just...well, you seem a real smart man, Mr. Cooper. You’ve got to know that being seen in the company of deputy isn’t going to win you any friends in some circles around here.”

Claire deposits a fresh cup of coffee in front of Bauer with a smile. The deputy takes a sip and sighs. ”I’m a fair tracker. Not the best, by any stretch. But I can manage to find something more often than not. So it’ll probably be worth lookin’. That’s actually what led me to think somethin’ else went on with Reverend Benton.”

“See, that day I went out to his house. The parsonage. After I took a few circles around the place, I happened upon a few tracks, but...they were odd. They were fresh enough to have been made around the last time anyone had seen the preacher, at least by my estimate. And they were boot prints, kind you see most who ride or work the range wearin’. But they were faint. Real light. Like the person who made ‘em didn’t weigh hardly anything.”

Albert nodded at Bauer's commentary. "Folk that don't like deputies...ain't the sorta circles in which I'd like ta make friends, ma'am. Not that I'm keen on makin' enemies either. But I'd like ta help make things better round here. And avoidin' helpin' good folk ain't no way ta do that."

Albert's brow creased in thought as he considered the mystery surrounding the last preacher. "When ya say - didn't weight hardly nuthin' - do ya mean a slender gal like yerself? A child wearin' boots too big? Or somethin' even lighter'n that?"

”Boot prints were the size you’d expect to find on a grown man,” Bauer explains, taking another sip of her coffee, ”But whoever was in ‘em might’ve weighed as much one of young ‘uns in Señorita Perez’ classroom. Steps that just made a dent in the dirt.”

“The footing was too sure for it to’ve actually been a little one wearing boots that were too large. Whoever it was, it looked to me like they were trying to approach Reverend Benton’s house without being seen.”

Albert looked perplexed at that bit of information. "Hm. That's a might peculiar, ma'am."

He arched an eyebrow. "An' when ya followed them light bootprints? Where'd they lead?"

”North. Up to the Rio Bonito, where I lost the trail.”

“About halfway there, northwest of town, I came across...I don’t know what you’d call it. A trench, I reckon? A spot in the ground where it looked like somethin’ large had dug itself out of the dirt, then tore hell out of the grass for a good piece. Until, like the footprints, it hit the river, where it stopped.”

Albert frowned at this news. "Well, damn. That's more'n just peculiar - bit frightenin' as well. What sorta track did, uh, the thing that emerged leave behind?"

Buaer chews on her lower lip. ”I’m not sure you’d call it a track, but...wherever it had traveled, it tore the soil up. Turned up rocks and pulled the grass free as it went. The marks in the dirt were...jagged. Like you’d see made by a plough blade, only several of ‘em. Not just one.”

She drains her cup. ”I promise you, I hadn’t been drinkin’”

Albert shook his head as he thought. "No, I'm sure it's just like ya tell it. But that's mighty mysterious. Ain't sure what that means, zactly. You got any hunches?"

Bauer’s demeanor shifts slightly. She looks at Cooper uncertainly, then down at her cup. ”I...had a thought or two. Asked a few questions. But...well, it’s not anything that’s gonna get anyone in locked up in the county jail.”

“It’s more like...local superstition.”

Albert nodded slowly at Lana's response. "What sorta local superstition? I gotta say that I've seen a lotta supposed superstition that turned out ta be not so much. Lately. If that makes any sense."

Her brow wrinkles. ”You’re talking about the little ones. And all that strange business with the schoolhouse.”

She lets out a soft sigh, turning her empty cup. ”The Mescalero Apache...they’ve got quite a few legends about this valley and the Capitan Mountains. Especially the mountains.”

“There’s an old story about a brave who murdered a squaw’s husband and her family, because he couldn’t have her in marriage. Ended up being hunted down, killed. He wasn’t given a proper burial because of his actions. The terror he’d brought to his tribe.”

“The tale says he came back. Gathered his scattered bones together, but he didn’t stop there. He kept collecting all the fragments of the dead he could find. Became some sort of monster that tore up the land wherever he passed. Tried to wipe out the people that had survived him. Was only destroyed when one of the Apache warriors was able to reach his black heart and crush it.”

Claire Ramsey refills Cooper and Bauer’s cups.

”It sounds like a fairy tale, I know. But that business about the dirt bein’ torn up. It just...made me wonder.”

Albert tipped his head side-to-side. "Ain't the only thing like that I've seen...but that's a fine example. What if that Apache fellow's been called back? Or mebbe someone else had the same fate? Don't s'pose there's any more details ta how it was beaten?"

”I haven’t heard nothin’ else about how it was killed. But the fella that told me the legend...he’s made himself scarce around here. I’ve been meanin’ to ask Renata Montaño about it, just haven’t had the chance to go by her store lately. I’ve been out on the range a bit, keepin’ watch on other things.”

She is silent for a moment, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup. Finally, she asks, “If I show you somethin’, you think you could keep it a secret for the time bein’? Not tell anyone?”

That was another reason for Albert to visit with Montaño. It was on his list, but hadn't risen to the top yet.

Albert nodded. "Sure am capable of keepin' a secret, ma'am. No one will hear it from me."

Bauer reaches into the pocket of her vest and draws out a small, clothbound blood, its dark cover well worn. She slides it across the table to Cooper.

”Reverend Benton...he kept a journal. Lot of what’s in there is what you’d expect. Talk about some of the difficulties he was havin’, leadin’ the church here. Thoughts about the Good Book. But...toward the end, right before he disappeared, he came across some trouble. Couple or three folks dug up in the cemetery.”

Albert took a deep breath, then sighed. "I've seen things like that before. Heard bout even more. Folk dug up in the cemetery always seem ta lead ta bad things. Seems like mebbe he got snatched cuz he saw somethin' someone didn't want seen, eh?"

The puzzle pieces were fitting into place, but Albert didn't like what the end product was looking like.

She nods. ”It’s what I’m thinkin’.” She taps the cover of the book. ”Right near the end of this journal, the Reverend made reference to takin’ a ride out toward Angus, southwest of here. Seems like somethin’ led him to believe whoever was diggin’ folks up might be hidin’ out there.”

Albert raised both eyebrows slowly as more pieces fit into place. "Hm. Mebbe after seeing if we c'n track down that ruffian, we mebbe take a ride out toward Angus? I might be able ta get a few other folk ta help out."

She leans back in her chair, regarding him for a moment. ”I ain’t gonna lie. I’d be beholden to you if you’d consider doin’ that. Just how serious some of my fellow deputies take their duties...well, it varies quite a bit. I need some help if I’m gonna keep on the Reverend’s trail.”

“But...these friends of yours. Don’t take this the wrong way...are they level headed sorts? It’s just, we’ve had our share of problems around here with folks who think they know best where the law’s concerned. Billy the Kid’s people...the Regulators...they believe they’re in the right of things, and maybe in some ways they are, but I’m afraid they’re gonna end up makin’ everything worse for all of us.”

“Your people aren’t cut from that kind of cloth are they?”

Albert shook his head. "No ma'am - was actually thinkin' of askin' the Ranger what came ta town, among others. And anything involvin' a ranger oughta be on the level, right?"

Bauer nods. ”You’re right. It should be at that.” She pauses, then adds, ”Sheriff Brady...he seemed kinda relieved to know that a Texas Ranger had come to town.”

She set her cup down, folding her hands on the table. ”You up for a ride? I can show that spot where the trail from Reverend Benton’s house ended. Ground’s still torn up, like it was when I first found it.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I want to try to find that woman that gunned down O’Folliard. But just between you and me, the Sheriff told me to leave it alone for the moment. He has something else in mind where that’s concerned.”

Albert raised an eyebrow at the Sheriff's relief before nodding at the deputy's question. "Yes ma'am, I am certainly up fer a ride." He narrowed his eyes a little at the comment about O'Folliard, then headed over to mount Brandy.

"Mebbe while we're ridin', ya might tell me a little more 'bout O'Folliard. And why ya think the Sheriff's relieved at the arrival of a Ranger." In Albert's experience, law men out west didn't like other folk on their turf - made feel less capable, even if they needed the help.

Bauer walks over to the courthouse where her mount, a paint mare, is hitched. Climbing into the saddle, she urges her horse into a trot, riding west out of town.

Once the two riders have some distance from Lincoln’s Main Street, she says, ”Between you and me, the reason Sheriff Brady’s glad of the Ranger’s arrival is...well, it’s because he doesn’t trust most of his own deputies. He’s sure that several of ‘em are on someone else’s payroll...Lawrence Murphy’s. Problem is, he can’t figure out which ones. But it’s got his hands tied up. Most of the time, he can’t be sure that what his people are telling him is the truth. Or if they’ll follow his orders.”

“I guess he figures the Ranger, he’ll be able to get to the bottom of things around here.”

Albert kept Brandy close to Bauer's as they trotted out of town. He did swivel his head constantly to look about. Now would not be a good time to be taken unawares. "Hm. That is quite a predicament fer the Sheriff. Don't most law m..., er, law-folk have a good gut fer things like this? Doin' nutin' ain't good, neither. Makes the townfolk lose faith."

Albert paused. "But, seems unlikely the Ranger's on Murphy's payroll. So trustin' him seems reasonable." Al smiled a little as he looked over to Bauer. "Whose payroll are you on?"

Bauer smirks. "Lincoln County's, last time I checked. Believe me, if I wasn't so attached to some of the people here, there's plenty of places in Texas where I could make a fair livin' with a lot less hassle."

She pauses, her expression becoming stern. "Jim Mc Daniels, fella who works for Murphy, approached me once at Ramsey's. Offered me a good bit of money to help make Mr. Murphy's interests were watched after. I told him to go to hell."

Albert smirked at Bauer's profession of single-source income. She had properly determined Al was kidding with her.

That he had received such an offer, though... "Any of yer fella deputies in circumstances what might have made 'em wanna take such an offer? Circumstances sometimes makes a person do things they otherwise wouldn't."

She slows her horse’s pace. ”Mr. Cooper, the truth is, except for Sheriff Brady himself, the only two officers I’d be inclined to trust are James Bell and Bob Olinger. And truthfully, Bob’s probably honest, but he’s not always prone to making sensible decisions. Lets his temper get the better of him quite a bit.”

“The rest...I have a feeling they’re all in Murphy’s pocket, one way or another. But thinkin’ like you’re talkin’ about...there is one that especially comes to mind. Deputy Raines. Wrias Raines. The story was that Raines got himself in trouble up north, around Dodge City. Ran away from Kansas on account of a big gambling debt he had up there. Supposedly, some of those folks tracked him down here in Lincoln, came callin’ to collect. But then they went on their way. Left Wrias be. Nobody’s really sure how he wriggled out of that fix, but I’ve got my suspicions.”

Albert nodded at the woman's assessment of the other deputies. "Can ya think of any way ta find out where Raines loyalties lie? Seems like the sheriff, and the Ranger, might be better off if there'd be a way ta, well, get ridda the bad apples. Can't do that without some proof, of course."

"I know where he lives. Old prospector's shack north of town, near the foothills," she answers. "Never visited him, myself. I don't really care for the way he looks at me sometimes."

"He's also partial to drinkin' at Wilson's. Likes to play cards there. Supposedly good friends with the piano player."

The horses cross into a clearing. Ahead and to the left, Cooper can see the beginnings of a trench that has been dug in the earth, the grass and wildflowers having been widely scattered on either side of the fissure.

Albert stored the information about Raines, but any thoughts he had on it would be made later. What he saw took priority.

"Well, I'll be...."

Albert slowed his horse as he and Brandy approached the furrowed ground. The portly ranch hand lowered himself to the ground and moved to look at the trench. He didn't touch anything, but inspected the ground in the trench and to either side. "How old ya think this is?"

”Hard to say,” Bauer admits, ”At least a couple of weeks, since that’s when I found it. But this isn’t the only one. One of Susan McSween’s hands told me that they’d stumbled onto a couple of places just like it on their range. This morning, I heard talk that they’d lost a few steer out that way. Not sure if the two things are related to one another, but I’ve got a funny feelin’ that they are.”

Albert looked at the trench and listened to the explanation. "Huh. And has anyone followed any of the trenches to their end? I assume it leads somewhere, or perhaps all start in some direction?"

Albert considered the size of the trench in comparison to the underground tunnels they were in when chasing down that plant-creature.

"I've followed this one," Bauer tells Cooper. Gesturing for him to follow, she adds, "Come take a look."

She leads Cooper a short distance to a dense cluster of spruce. On the far side of the conifers, Cooper sees that the trench terminates in a hole that burrows deep into the earth, the sides of it grooved as though dug by an animal with sizeable claws. The opening drops down into darkness.

"Not sure if this is the beginning or the end. But there's another hole just like this one if you folow the trench in the other direction."

OOC: Albert, kindly give me a Notice roll.

"Damnation. That's a big hole."

13:35, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 10,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+4)10,2.  Notice.

Albert frowned as he looked at the excavations of the creature, inspecting the hole for depth and size, mentally comparing it to what he'd previously walked through to find the kidnapped children.

Although the hole drops down into darkness, its width is irregular, and quite narrow at points, giving Cooper the idea that something would have had to squeeze through parts of the crevasse. He sees no trace of the unwelcome vines, but notes that the fissure is nothing like the wide tunnel that the plants had managed to establish beneath the schoolhouse.

Close to the opening, Cooper glimpses a small, white object, mostly concealed by the broken earth.

Al looked around the opening a bit, then grunted. "What's this?"

He carefully reached down near the white object and ran a finger through the soil near the object to allow it to be more easily removed. He took a close look at it while doing so.

Carefully clearing the nearby soil, Cooper is able to see that the partially concealed object is a bone. From the shape, he surmises that it is most likely a piece of a rib. From its size, he strongly suspects that it came from a human.

Albert cleaned off the rib as well as he could and then held it up for Lena. "Looks like a rib bone. Human." He frowned as he looked at the bone. "How d'ya s'pose that happened?"

”I sure hope that didn’t belong to Reverend Benton,” Bauer says, looking at the fragment of bone with raised eyebrows, ”’Course, that business with the graves bein’ robbed. It coulda came from one of them. But...why would it end up in a clawed up hole like this?”

Albert frowned at the prospect of the bones being from the Reverend. The robbed graves would be better, though mostly for the Reverend's help. Al had seen far too many times what the wrong sort of people could do with a dead body.

"How long ago did them graves start bein' dug up? And when ya think this here happened?" The ranch hand was trying to place things timewise to help himself come to some sort of hypothesis. But he suspected more investigation was probably in order.

"The first I heard about it..." Bauer's voice trails off and she frowns. "Well, I guess it was a few weeks back. Right after Judge Wilson deputized all of John Tunstall's hands."

"When I found this a couple of weeks ago, it looked freshly dug. Like the soil had just been turned. Smelled like a field that'd recently been plowed."

"Hm. That sorta timin' don't seem like coincidence, ma'am. S'pose it ain't directly related ta them kids, neither." Albert sniffed about to see if there were any other smells than what Bauer described.

"Freshly dug seems ta give us some clue 'bout timin'. Anything else ya smelled? Rot mebbe?"

Bauer considers for a moment. Wrinkling her nose, she says, "I don't recall anything that smelled awful, like anythin' dead. But...there was somethin'. A musty odor. Kinda like an old house that's been closed up for years."

She glances up at the graying sky. "We might go ahead and head back to town, Mr. Cooper. You'll want to be indoors before dark. If you're not ridin' back to your uncle's, Desiree Thornton's place is a good spot to pass the night."

Albert looked at the sky. "Glad yer payin' attention. I should head back ta my uncle's tonight, though I don't have ta do so immediately. I gotta few more folk I'd like ta chat with 'fore headin' back home."

Albert remounted his horse and then waited for Bauer to do the same before turning back toward town. He had a pensive look on his face as he considered what they'd found.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Thu 29 Nov 2018.