Eliza Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The trading post had four walls now, but Eliza still didn't know who had killed the men who wore her badge before her. A cell meant nothing if she jailed the wrong man. She pinned the worn star straight, left her office, and walked toward the only place in Jaspervale where the rich did their talking. If secrets lived anywhere, they lived in the saloon. The doors swung open under her gloves. Warm light and pipe smoke met her. Men in clean coats sat at polished tables. The talk died the moment her spurs struck the floor. A dozen faces turned. She read every one for guilt. Eliza took a seat at the bar and set two dollars on the wood. "Whiskey," she said. "And the name of whoever ran the last sheriff out of town." Nobody answered. Then a heavy man rose from a corner table. His coat was fine, his boots finer, and a gold chain crossed his belly. He walked like the room belonged to him. The other men watched him the way rabbits watch a hawk. "You're the girl playing lawman," he said. He smiled without warmth. "The last three learned this town don't want one. One of them's in the ground." "You seem to know a lot about dead sheriffs," Eliza said. The smile dropped. His hand drifted toward his hip. That was all she needed. A guilty man reaches for his gun when the truth gets close. She stayed still and let him choose. "Careful," he said. "You could join them tonight." He'd said it in front of every wealthy man in Jaspervale. He'd named himself as the threat, out loud, where they all could hear. Eliza rose slow. She kept her hands open and away from her belt. "You just told the whole room what you are," she said. "That's worth more than the whiskey." His face went red. He drew. Eliza was faster. Her boot caught the table edge and drove it into his knees. He fell hard. His pistol skidded across the floor. She dropped a knee on his back and pinned his wrist before he could rise. The room stayed frozen. No man moved to help him. That told her the rest were only cowards, not killers. "I've got a cell now," Eliza said in his ear. "You're going to fill it." She hauled him up and marched him out the doors. The night air was cold and clean. Her prisoner stumbled ahead of her spurs. She had her first man, and she had a name the town feared to say. But he hadn't acted alone. No one killed three sheriffs by himself. Somewhere in Jaspervale, the men who took his orders were already learning their leader was in her cell. And they would want him back.