Dogs in God's Vineyard

((Oops, double-posted.))

Gideon rode behind Horatio as they left town, the saddle at least a little more bearable since they had a moment to stretch their legs in the town. Unfortunately it was still just as hot, but nothing could be done about that. While they rode, Gideon thought over the details of the case that they had been given, trying to force the pieces together into something of a clear picture. He kept his thoughts to himself; Horatio didn't seem like the talkative type, and Gideon was well aware of the man's vastly superior experience. Gideon doubted he would think of anything the man hadn't already considered.

In the end, they did not need to ride far in order to reach the trail and the scene of trouble. Gideon saw the smoke slowly curling up into the air before they came upon the wagon itself, the air smelling of death. He pulled up a length of the thin scarf he wore to keep the sun off his neck up over his nose and mouth, leaving just his eyes to show beneath the brim of his hat. It took only a single look at the bodies to drive home the seriousness of the matter they were dealing with. Gideon had seen dead men before, but it was hardly a sight he had grown comfortable with.

Gideon turned his eyes away from the wagon, instead drawing his pistol and scanning the landscape around them. Whoever had done this could still be here, and he didn't plan on ending with his bones baking in the sun in some godforsaken backwater. "Oh yeah?" Gideon called over his shoulder to Horatio while the man continued to investigate. "Wouldn't bandits steal the horses too? That's just a waste." Gideon imagined horseflesh was a very easily moved commodity out here. Firstly, it could actually move, and help to carry other loot taken for a faster escape. And unlike gold, horses had a practical use anyone could appreciate, and most could afford. "Guess they're not trying to make a profit. Seems to me like somebody's got a vendetta." He mused, his voice slightly muffled behind the cloth.

Mayor Chesterfield stared at Anna fearfully, his eyes bugged out. He was faintly sure that he had just soiled himself, but at the moment that was the least of his concerns.

"I, I don't know anything!" he pleaded, his words as genuine as they were laced with fear. "I, I only know what the Sheriff told me! Attacks on the ranches, two weeks apart, everyone but the children left dead! And the Trail attacks started up not long after! Once a week, the Natives strike on the Trail, too! I, I wish I could help you, but that's all I know!"

Desperately, he tried to think of something, something, that might please the Dogs. Something on the town itself, maybe? By God, he hoped that would help! He was terrified enough, but he knew that the Dogs could do worse things than simply yell at him.

"They, they say that Nate Blake was having an affair with Sheriff Coobs' wife!" he blurted out, seizing upon the first rumor that came to mind. "I, I don't know if it's true, but my own wife says that she's seen Abigail Coobs come out of Nate Blake's house late at night! So, uh, you, you might want to look into that! And that's all I know, I swear!"

And it was. Call him a poor Mayor, but that's all Byron Chesterfield really knew about the whole situation. He had relied greatly on Sheriff Coobs' judgment and knowledge to sort out the ranch and Trail attacks, and aside from what he heard offhand from his wife, the Mayor didn't know too much of the town gossip. He was more focused on actually running the place; a task proven difficult due to the lack of safety on the Red Road Trail, and the slaughter of many of the nearby ranches. But he'd let Sheriff Coobs take care of that problem, confident the lawman would have things under control, given time.

Perhaps that judgment had been a mistake...

All too easy. Anna continued to stare intently at Chesterfield as he spouted out everything there was to tell. Unfortunately, that was far from the new information she had hoped for. These townspeople knew pathetically little, even when they were practically under siege. To be fair, the attackers left only corpses, but there was still a disturbing about of apathy for such crime. It was maddeningly unhelpful. But at least he did confirm her suspicion of the sheriff's wife and his supposed murderer.

Blake had the motivation if he was seeing the wife and her husband had beat her, from what Anna knew at the moment, but that was far too simple. And given the nature of these small towns, it was likely Coobs was the only one who didn't know about his wife's affair. And the deputy hadn't hesitated in arresting him. If Blake was the killer, he would have taken Abigail and left in the night.

Yet the sheriff was dead, Blake imprisoned, and nothing to suggest the source of the attacks. Nothing but a dead sheriff who was supposed to have investigated the matter, yet found nothing.

Blinking out of her contemplation, Anna stared down the mayor for another long moment before nodding with satisfaction. "Thank you for your cooperation, sir." He was a fool, yes, but even a fool had limits on what sins they would commit. "We may return later with more questions." She tipped her hat politely to him.

She looked to William, lowering her voice. "The sheriff's wife, next. Question her and search the house. Her husband is the only apparent link to the attacks." She gave the mayor a sidelong look, edging towards the door but giving William a moment if he had more questions for the poor fool of a man.

As the Mayor blurted out what amounted to little more than nervous bluster, William had to hold his tongue or he would certainly have called the man an imbecile. The idea that someone in his position could know so little about what was happening was so… American. The confirmation of the affair was only of slight use but it would be helpful when the time came to make an example of someone if they needed to.

Anna’s reply was all that was needed, though William nearly laughed at the polite tip of her hat, a movement he mimicked but did not bother to add anything as she gave him a questioning look. He fully agreed with her observation that it was time to talk to the Sheriffs wife, even if she had nothing to do with the raids, adultery was certainly a sin worth hunting down, mostly because she had failed so horribly at keeping it hushed up. He suspected that it might turn out that more than a few local men had taken a ride on a filly like that.

As the two Dogs left the Mayor sitting in a puddle of his own urine William looked at Anna, then glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Yes, ze wife would be best I think. Perhaps you should question her without me?”

He did not say the words because he thought he could not be of any help but rather he knew that women tended to prefer talking to their own sex. On the other, given that this woman might be something of a tart, she made find a handsome German to her liking. He did not voice this last opinion for he was sure that Anna was more than capable of bringing him in, if he was needed at all.

"A vendetta seems unlikely to me." Horatio disagreed, looking over the scene once more. "These raiders have been attacking more than one wagon across this trail, and they only attack once a week. So unless someone just absolutely hates everyone coming across this trail on a specific day of the week, that seems unlikely."

Horatio weighed the possibilities, considering all possible options. This was a tricky one, for sure....and how did it connect to the attacks on the ranches? At least the children survived in those attacks; here, not so much. Well...hm. It was always possible a child had been with at least one of these caravans, and had been taken away. But...not every merchant or passerby traveled the land with their children. And this business at the Trail seemed....different, from the attacks on the ranches. It seemed much more...disorderly, and random.

So were these two events connected? It was truly hard to tell at this point. Another reason to seek out the local Native Tribe ASAP.

Horatio continued to eye the wreckage, and after a moment of thorough searching, he detected a trail. The remnants of hoof prints seemed to circle around the wagon, before breaking off and heading off toward the east. Horatio eyed the possible trail as it vanished into the horizon.

"Hm. I think we might have ourselves a trail here leading to the raiders. Don't think we should do this one alone, though. There's two of us and who knows how many raiders waiting at wherever they're camped out. It'd be best to smoke them out with the entire Pack together. Maybe get the Sheriff and a posse involved, too." Horatio decided, feeling that was the safer of options.

They might lose the trail in the intervening time, perhaps, but five Dogs plus some of the locals against a group of raiders seemed much better odds than just him and the Pup alone.

Anna nodded to William as they made their way through the town. "As you wish. Perhaps you could search around the outside of his house. I suspect Sheriff Coobs was killed so that his sins and secrets would die with him. There must be evidence as to why." Everything was pointing to the sheriff's involvement in the attacks. The attackers struck with the numbers to kill everyone before a warning could reach the town. That required coordination, planning, tactics, and at least a half dozen men, even for an isolated ranch. It only took one stable boy on a fast horse to escape and raise the alarm, yet none had. And then the attackers would need quick horses of their own to escape before someone came to investigate the gunshots or rising smoke that would be easy to notice across the flat and empty terrain. At least a half dozen horses, yet the sheriff and his posse never found a trail. Something was not right. The only question that remained was why, but they had killed Coobs before he could answer such things.

She paused to ask one of the citizens walking by where the Coobs's house was, the townsperson pointing ahead before making themselves quite scarce. Finally, Anna mused, someone with some simple forthrightness. Continuing on to the house, Anna stood at the door, knocked, and waited. Of course, if Abigail Coobs did not answer promptly, she was going to enter one way or the other. The Lord's swift justice was not something to be delayed.

"Maybe they just hate everyone..." Gideon continued to muse, though he wasn't being entirely serious. He had faith in the experience of the other Dogs that they would see the mystery solved, and as such, didn't feel entirely obligated to be the one to put the pieces together. He was just here to see how putting them together was done. Horatio's words did spark a thought for the young man, however.

"Hey Horatio, how many towns are within a two or three day ride from here? Are any of them big, with a train station or something?" It could be a false lead, but if the trail had only been getting sacked about once a week, maybe it was because the people had to ride two or three days to reach their hideout, and then two or three days to return. It might seem like a pretty big waste of time and energy, but so long a ride would certainly make tracking down the outlaws more difficult. Gideon was still considering such things when the old man seemed to have found a trail. He turned around, going over to see for himself.

"Really? Where? I don't...it's all just a bunch of dirt." He complained. Being born and raised to the city, he had no experience with tracking. The stone streets didn't give to footprints unless someone had paint or blood on their shoe. He hadn't grown up hunting like many of the lads here in the West might. As for riding back to gather the others, it seemed like a good enough idea. Gideon might have accepted the teachings of the Faith, but he didn't believe that his Faith would stop a bullet as some Dogs did. Those who were extremely zealous would just trust the Lord to preserve them. Gideon figured He preserved those who used good judgement rather than those who tested his power. Unfortunately, that would mean they'd have to ride back into town, and then back out this way yet again.

After a few seconds, the door to the Coobs house opened. A harried looking young woman peered out from the open door, taking in the sight of Anna...or more specifically, the Dog insignia stitched on her coat.

"Yes? Can I help you, ma'am?" she inquired, looking over somewhat frightfully to the female Dog.

"Missus Coobs." Anna tipped her hat politely, her voice calm but authoritative. "I have a few questions for you, if you do not mind." Of course, she was already in the process of taking a half step through the door. What poor woman minded was mildly irrelvant. Anna pressed her hand against the door, pressing firmly enough to ensure that it would remain open and Abigail would better be inclined to open it farther and let her in. "I need to know of your late husband. Everything. How he did his duties as sheriff, what he was like at home, what he knew of the attacks. I understand the two of you had issues, but I must know everything about him. The lives of your neighbors are at stake."

"No, no towns near here that I know of." Horatio replied, shaking his head. "And the trail's right here, Pup. It's faint, but it's there."

Of course, he wasn't that surprised that Gideon couldn't see it. It took an experienced eye to pick out a trail among all this dirt and dust.

"Come on, I think we're through here. Best go back to town and touch base with the others. Once we pool all our information together, I'm sure we can come up with our next course of action." Horatio declared, as he made his way back over to his horse. He saddled up on the beast of burden, and urged it forward, getting back up on the trail.

Their find wasn't much here, but that wasn't too much of a surprise. Still, they had a trail to follow now. It'd be a simple matter of rounding up the other Dogs, maybe the Sheriff and a posse, too. Once they had some good numbers on their side, they'd be able to smoke out and obliterate the raiders plaguing the Red Road Trail. And, perhaps, wipe out the local tribe of Natives too, while they were at it. If it came to that, at least.

Horatio still had his doubts about Native involvement, but he'd let Harrison be the final judge of that. Only he could find out for sure if his people were involved in the ranch and trail attacks.

"Y-Yes, of course. Please, come in." Abigail Coobs stepped aside and let the female Dog in. She led Anna to the main living room of the house, and took a seat across from the Dog. She glanced up demurely at her guest, but wasn't quite able to look her in the eyes.

"I don't know if there's much I can tell you. My husband was a good Sheriff, and a good spouse. I don't know anything about the all these horrid attacks; he hardly ever told me much about his job, to be honest. And...issues? We had no...issues. He was a perfect gentleman." Abigail proclaimed, though her last declaration came off as flat, no trace of real emotion or integrity behind the statement. And still, she refused to meet Anna's gaze.

"Would you like some tea, ma'am?" she suddenly asked, glancing up at the Dog. "I'd be happy to make you some tea. It's the least I can do for a guest."

Anna tipped her hat politely in response, walking inside andsitting down in the living room. She carefully looking over the interior of the house. There had to be something of value here, something that proved the sheriff's guilt. She looked back to Abigail, leaning back in her chair as the woman spoke.

"I wonder if you might have heard," Anna began slowly, "It is said that the Lord blesses his Watchdogs with the ability to detect truth from lies. Truth is everything, after all. Nothing is hidden from the eyes of God. Must as your late husband has discovered, I am sure. No earthly station or title is significant to the Lord. Only deeds."

She paused for a moment, considering what approach to take. Abigail was afraid, that was obvious. But not the same fear as the mayor. He feared judgement. She feared exposure. Anna continued, her voice lower and at least somewhat softer then her regular flat, blunt tone. "But you must understand, my aim is to help you. And to help this town. The sinners I hunt are the monsters attacking the ranches. They are the ones who will face the Lord's wrath. But I need your help, Abigail. What is said here will not leave this house, but I must know what you do. And tea would be lovely, thank you."

Gideon rolled his eyes at being called 'Pup'. Granted, it might be his first pack after winning his spurs, so to speak, but he was still a full fledged Dog. He doubted anything he said would make the old man drop the moniker. Especially when he couldn't even discern the raider's trail from the dirt. Gideon finally shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm right behind you Pops." He spoke, his Irish accented words coming quicker than most people's this far west. As much as Gideon hated the thought of riding back to town only to ride back this way again, it might mean a welcome respite from the day's work. His body was sore from so much time spent in the saddle. Maybe the other Dogs would be busy following their own leads, and by the time a posse was put together, they might put it off until tomorrow. Spending some time in the shade and out of the saddle would do Gideon some good...but he wasn't going to get his hopes too high on such a thing happening. The longer unraveling this mystery took, the more likely another ranch or wagon would be hit. People's lives were at stake. Gideon could suffer some discomfort to himself when weighed against such stakes.

He nudged his horse with his heels, guiding the animal around and back down the trail from whence they came. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Gideon wasn't very nervous at the prospects of a shootout with raiders. Young as he was, his mind rejected the notion that he might be hurt, or even killed.

Abigail nodded at the Dog and walked off into her kitchen. A few minutes later she returned, and handed Anna a cup of tea. She sat back down in the chair across from the Dog, and stayed silent for a few moments, as Anna drank.

"Elias was....he, he loved me." Abigail weakly protested, as tears started to roll down from her eyes. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, though it did little to stop the flow of tears. "He...he was a good man. And a good husband. He...he loved me. Always. No matter what he did it...it was always out of...l-love..."

It was a weak argument however, and even Abigail could see that. However, years of marriage to Elias Coobs had made her latch on to that story, and even after his death, she was doing her best to stick with it. To say otherwise would crumble the web of lies she had constructed over the years, to protect her mental well being. And saying anything bad about her husband, even if it didn't deal with her own abuse, would help contribute to the shatter of her illusion of being well and happy.

Anna took the cup and sipped slowly, mostly out of politeness and the need to hide the annoyed grimace she struggled to contain. She let out a slow breath, calmly venting the frustration. It was because of women like Abigail Coobs that the archaic institutions in the East could keep claiming women as weak and simple minded and it frustrated Anna to no end. But there was no time to scold the wretched woman for her weakness and the Lord only saved those who took the step towards saving themselves. There was still a pack of murderers to find and Anna was barely closer to finding them then when the pack had first rode into town.

Calmly setting the cup town on the nearby table, Anna slowly walked up to Abigail, staring down at her with the coldest look she could muster. "Do not lie to me, Abigail Coobs. I know your husband had moral failings. Now I must know how far these failings extended. I must know everything your husband has done since the attacks began, up until the moment of his death."

After a pause to let her words sink in, Anna took a step back and feigned a sad sigh as she slowly shook her head. "And, you should know, if no other suspect is found, Nate Blake will surely hang for the murder of the sheriff. All I need is evidence that Elias dealt with whatever wretched souls are behind the attacks, anything that would explain why he could never find the culprits. Journals, records, anything that showed what he was doing. Surely you would have noticed any sudden change in your dear, loving husband. Unless your intention is to hide his sins, which would mean you are complicit in his foul deeds." She brought her hand down, brushing back her coat and resting her hand on the grip of the whip she kept tied to her belt. Anna fixed her piercing stare on Abigail once again, and waited.