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Then he went to one cell in particular, glaring at the man who stood close to the bars. He reached inside and grabbed him by the collar. “I’ve come for only one lady and by God, if you value your life, you’ll tell me who took her away,” he said angrily.
The man made a strangling noise as Morris’s fingers twisted the collar. “It . . . was . . . dark,” the man said, gasping. “No one could see who took her. But . . . it . . . was a man. He carried her away. That’s . . . all any of us know.”
Wondering who could have gotten there before him and his men, Morris mouthed an obscenity as he released the man.
Several of the outlaws rushed into the back room, then stopped and gawked.
Joe Feather went to Morris. “You’d best get her and let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice low. “It’s almost daylight. Someone’s bound to come and catch us here.”
“She’s not here,” Morris grumbled, his brows meeting in a frown. “Goddamn it all to hell, she’s not here.”
“Where is she?” Joe asked, tipping his hat back with his forefinger.
“Who’s to say?” Morris said, shrugging. He stroked his chin, looking at the prisoners.
“I’d say that’s good,” Joe said, patting his holstered pistol. “I didn’t take much to this escape, anyhow. What were we going to do with her once we got her? She’d just draw the law to us, that’s all.”
“If we don’t do something about these prisoners, the law’ll get drawn to us now, no matter how you look at it,” Morris said, pushing aside Joe and storming back to the sheriff’s office. He gestured. “Come with me. We’ve things to do.”
Joe Feather scampered after him. They joined those who were inside the office, their firearms drawn.
“Let’s get a fire goin’,” Morris said, his eyes gleaming as he went to the desk and grabbed up several yellowed papers and began scattering them around the room. “Frank? You go start setting the prisoners free. Panama? You stand guard outside and see to it that no one sees what we’re doin’. If someone comes even near the prison, shoot ’em. We’ve got to make a clean sweep of this mess we’ve made today. And we don’t need no witnesses.”
Frank went to Morris, his pockmarked face wary. “The prisoners?” he asked in a monotone. “Don’t you think they’ll be witnesses if any of them gets caught?”
“As I see it the community is going to be too busy fighting the fire to worry about catchin’ escaped convicts. And these people aren’t going to stay in these parts any longer than they can help it. They’ve already got a taste of what it’s like to be here at Copper Hill Prison. They won’t allow it to happen again. I’m sure they’d kill themselves before coming back. Why would they tattle on those who’ve been kind enough to set them free?”
“I guess you’re right,” Frank said, taking the keys Morris handed to him. He left, and soon there was a stampede from the back room as men and women ran from their cells, breathlessly free.
“Clear out of here!” Morris shouted to his men. “I’m going to set everything on fire!”
Soon flames were flickering from the barred windows and the panes of the front windows exploded, spewing glass everywhere.
“Get back to our hideout, quick!” Morris shouted as he ran toward the forest for his horse. “I’ll meet you there later. I’ve things to do here in town.”
By the time Morris was riding nonchalantly down First Avenue, the fire wagons were already clanging and rushing up the steep hill toward the prison. Black smoke billowed up into the sky, darkening the heavens as if it were midnight, instead of early morning.
Morris rode onward, ignoring the clamor of people who were riding their horses toward the prison. He knew what they would eventually find—two bodies, not a hundred. And it would be hard for them to identify whether they were the sheriff and the deputy.
No one would ever know how it had happened, or who had caused it.
Or who had taken Elizabeth away? And why? Had they known about his plans? Or had it just been coincidence that someone had gotten there before him?
In this life, there seemed to be nobody who could be trusted. No one!
He rode on to Earl’s house and found him already at the fishery, getting an early start on the day. After securing his horse’s reins to the hitching rail, Morris went inside the fishery and stood over the desk, where Earl was entering some figures into a ledger.
Earl looked up at Morris, his eyes eager. “Well?” he said quickly. “Did you find a way to free Elizabeth?”
“I didn’t have to, it seems,” Morris said, trying to fake concern. “When I got up this morning, I saw the flames shooting up into the sky from the prison. Earl, the fire wagons could do no good. By the time they got to it, it was gone.”
Earl’s knees weakened and his heart leapt into his throat. He started to rise from his chair, but he was too weak to stand. “Tell me,” he said, his voice rasping. “What—what about Elizabeth? Did-did someone get her out before the prison burned?”
“Someone came and told me that everyone in the prison had been set free before the fire started, even Elizabeth,” Morris said, seeing the relief in Earl’s eyes. “As best they can tell, the sheriff and deputy perished in the fire.”
“But Elizabeth?” Earl stammered. “What of my Elizabeth? Where is she? Who is she with? It’s like before. She’s been abducted! But by who?”
“Better she’s been abducted, than dead,” Morris said, shrugging. “And one thing for sure, Earl, there is something positive about this happening. Your daughter’s name is now free and clear of any guilt. The sheriff and deputy are dead. They were the two who was responsible for her being there. And all of the records that could show her as having been there, and why, have been destroyed in the fire.”
