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Danger at Brody's Cross
19. Third time's the charm

19. Third time's the charm

Deputy Schim arrived at the office as Sheriff Cherry secured his newly acquired firearm in the formerly empty gun rack. He wasn't happy and didn't go to any lengths to hide it. Cherry wasn't happy either, primarily because he had suffered Asper's accusations and hardly managed to drive him off. He didn't need another assault on his person. "Where have you been?"

"Around," said Cherry with a shrug. Nothing he said would have mattered.

Schim was animated and he declared, "That wolfman showed up and killed Levi Asper!"

"You don't say." Then, "I suppose you're expectin' me to do somethin' about it?"

"I don't know what you can do," said Schim to Cherry's amazement. He sunk down on the corner stool. "Call a priest? He took our preacher with him."

"Then why are we worryin' about 'em?" said Cherry with a laugh. That seemed a fine solution to several problems. "If they left, we're all set. No sense runnin' after 'em."

"They didn't leave for good," said Schim. "They're waitin' for Herman."

"We gave 'em Herman," said Cherry. Somewhat.

"No," said Schim. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "The wolfman knew it wasn't Herman. Said he smelled different. Recognized him from the church."

"You know," said Cherry, plopping into his desk chair, "I didn't notice it when I first dragged him in, but that demon does have a certain odor about him. Not quite normal."

The deputy eyed the sheriff suspiciously. "You're smellin' folks now?"

"It was an observation."

"What are you gonna do about Levi Asper?" The wolfman had left him where he fell and gone off with Herman. "He's the real ugly sight."

Cherry chose instead to put forth, "Probably has nothin' on that bastard that killed you, though. He's a real ugly feller."

Schim frowned as he parsed the meaning. "What? Oh, no. I didn't know him. That wolfman didn't kill me."

"Thank god," exhaled Cherry. "You don't need me to do anythin' more about him."

"Sheriff," said Schim with slight annoyance. "You need to somethin'. He tore Levi Asper apart."

"That's true," said Cherry, rising as soon as he'd sat. "I forgot to do anythin' about that."

The deputy blinked. "You...were plannin' to address it?" This was surprising news.

Cherry moved to the door. "Yeah, I gotta get rid of the body before anyone sees it."

Schim let out a long sigh. "I should have known." Cherry put more effort into weaseling out of his responsibilities than he did performing his duties.

They did not get far. "Sheriff!" called a voice as they stepped onto the street. Old man Kennedy, one of the farmers east of town, rode over and practically flew off his horse. "Sheriff Cherry, it's terrible! Just terrible!"

"Shit," mumbled Cherry.

"The whole place is a mess and there's blood all over it!" continued Kennedy, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It's an awful scene, Sheriff! I'm shakin' thinkin' 'bout what could have happened to done that!"

Cherry held up a hand. "Kennedy, I'm sure whatever you saw, it ain't worth too much of a fuss--"

"Too much of a fuss?" gasped the old man. "Sheriff, the church is ransacked and the preacher's missin'!"

"Oh," said Cherry, realizing that nothing had been done to hide what had occurred there either. Oops.

"There's a dead horse out front too," said Kennedy. "Been picked clean apart by the animals. Rats were swarmin' somethin' fierce when I went to go see the Father."

Sheriff Cherry turned away to hide the tear in his eye. "I reckon there's an explanation. I don't think you need to worry."

"We gotta do somethin', Sheriff!" Then, "Do you think them bandits that hit the train might have done somethin' to Father Spiegelman? Oh, Sheriff! He's as nice as they come! You don't think they'd really hurt him, do you?"

"I doubt it," said Schim dryly. "The wolfman loves him."

"I'm sure he's fine," dismissed Cherry. He looped his thumbs in his belt loops. "I heard he went down to Texas with Lacey Tate for a bit. You know, seein' as he's close with the family on account of the--"

"--bear, that's right. Course, I didn't hear nothin' like that," said Kennedy. "I think we ought to round up a posse, go back, and see what we can find. It ain't right, Sheriff, the way it looks. If those bastards took our preacher, we ought to give 'em what for!"

"I don't think so," said Cherry. "I'm not gonna do that." It fell on deaf ears.

"You go that way!" said Kennedy, gesturing one way. "I'll go this one! We'll see who we can scrounge up and ride back in, say, twenty minutes?"

"Okay," Cherry waved, then swiftly walked in the direction of the sheep ranch.

"Didn't I just give you a ride out that way this mornin'?" asked the wagon driver with a chuckle as Cherry wandered by. It was unfortunate that he was where he could see the sheriff. "Do you need another?"

"Nope," insisted Cherry. "I got this."

"It doesn't seem like you do," said Schim, glancing back at the wagon driver as they trudged on. "It seems like everythin' is startin' to unravel."

"Nothin' is unravelin'," scoffed Cherry. "I'm goin' for a walk. Nothin' says I'm goin' back to the Tate place."

"And when the Tate house suddenly burns down?" inquired Schim. "You don't think people are gonna question that?"

Cherry gave him a look. "What makes you think I'm gonna burn it down?"

"What other possible solution would you come up with?" said Schim.

"It's a pretty good idea," grinned Cherry.

"It's not," said Schim.

The trek, spent arguing with Schim and acting innocent when riders and wagons would pass, proved fruitless. Cherry was more than happy to discover that by the time he and his deputy reached the house, Levi Asper's corpse was nowhere to be seen, though the gore remained. Cherry whistled and spun on his heels.

"Seems like someone already took care of things for us."

Schim looked to the floor then to his partner. "Yeah, but who?"

"No idea," said Cherry. " 'Long as Asper's not here, I don't care."

"Don't you wonder who came along and carted him off?"

Cherry shook his head. "Not especially. It's not my problem."

"Yes, it is. You're the sheriff."

"I don't see any dead body," said Cherry. "I wasn't part of his untimely demise. Barrin' those two facts, I don't suppose there's any reason for me to do anythin'. Someone would need to find me proof that somethin' happened to Asper in the first place."

"The room is drenched in blood," said Schim, gesturing broadly to the surroundings.

"Yeah, half of it's mine," replied Cherry, wiping his nose with his thumb. He considered. "Who's to say it can't all be mine?"

"Unbelievable," fumed Schim.

Without a corpse, there didn't seem any reason to hang around. For the third time that day, Sheriff Cherry made to leave the Tate home. He paused, peering back. The deputy noticed his hesitation and recognized the devious twinkle in his eye.

"What?" asked Schim unhappily. With a smirk, the sheriff reached for a candlestick. Schim glowered. "Oh, of course you'd take those now, you opportunistic, thievin' piece of--"Howling out in sudden pain, Cherry dropped the object and cradled his hand. Bright red and blistering, one might have thought he'd grabbed a hot coal. As he cursed loudly, the deputy inquired, "What happened?

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"I don't know." He glared at the stick and reached with his other hand. As before, it was as though he grabbed a branding iron straight from the fire. "God damn it!"

"What's goin' on with the candle sticks?" asked Schim.

"They're coated in somethin'!" hollered Cherry. He held out his palms. "Fuckin' Tates!"

Schim stared at the throbbing and uncomfortable looking burns. "I don't see the practicality in coatin' the candlesticks." He thought for a moment. "Serves you right."

"Shut up, Jeff!"

"No," chuckled Schim, getting a kick out of the irony. "You walk into their house intent on takin' their goods. I say good for them. I say don't rob people, Ewald."

"They don't need any of it anymore," argued the Sheriff, sucking in a breath to keep from cursing. "They're both gone."

"Not accordin' to you," said Schim. "You haven't seen any bodies, remember?"

"Ha ha ha," jeered the sheriff. Looking behind Schim, he added an unimpressed, "Not now, Levi."

Schim turned quickly and beheld the horrific shade of Asper. Asper's eyes widened at the sight of the deputy and his ire was momentarily forgotten. "Deputy Schim?"

Schim turned back to Cherry. "Why is Levi Asper hauntin' you too?!"

Asper was taken with the deputy. He hadn't seen Jeff Schim coming on three years. "My god," he said. "It is you. Have you been here the whole time?"

"I didn't do anythin' to him," insisted Cherry for Schim's sake.

"What, like here, with the Tates? No."

"You're lookin'... a little different," said Asper.

"So are you," said Schim pointedly and the rancher's anger returned.

"Cherry," he hissed. "Why can't anyone else see me?"

"You're gonna have to get used to that," said the sheriff. He blew on his palms in the futile hope it'd lessen the damage.

"It'll drive you nuts for the first year or so," explained Schim, trying to be helpful. He didn't think it would be much help to admit it still drove him nuts.

"This is your fault," asserted Asper.

"No," said Cherry. "I'm not goin' through this every time we talk. You're dead and it's your doin'."

"If you hadn't called me out to speak to Herman Tate," said Asper, "I never would have run into that man!"

"I didn't call you out," said Cherry. He smiled broadly and facetiously. In response, Asper balled a fist and swung. It passed straight through the sheriff's chin. "Why don't you and Jeff do some catchin' up while I see if the Tates keep any bandages around?" He wandered off, followed by the ghosts.

"Have you been with him this whole time?" inquired Asper, revolted by the notion.

"Yes," sighed Schim. "It's not been especially enjoyable."

"You know you like me," said Cherry, wincing as he attempted to open a narrow door. He tried with his elbows.

"What a horrible fate," bemoaned the rancher.

"It's okay," said Schim. "You'll get used to it. You'll get used to bein' disappointed."

"Or you could figure out what you need to move on and do it." Cherry was pleased to discover a linen closet. It wasn't bandages, but it would do. "For example, blamin' me for your death ain't gonna get you any closure since I had nothin' to do with it."

"You had everythin' to do with it," said Asper.

Schim arched an eyebrow and scowled. "Why are you encouragin' him to move on but you don't want me to?"

Cherry wrapped one hand. "I don't like Asper."

"What a comfort," muttered Schim.

"It is for me," said Asper and he floated into the closet alongside the sheriff. "If I can't get you to admit your role in my untimely demise, then I assure you I will do everythin' in my power to make your life a livin' hell."

"Can't be any worse than when you were alive," said Cherry, content in his make-shift first aid. His eyes fell again upon the candlestick. "I wonder."

Asper let loose an unholy keening. It may have unnerved others. Not Cherry. He laughed at his own genius as he stooped and collected the candlestick, keeping it between the hand towels across his palms. "How do you like that, Jeff?"

"I'm not impressed," said Schim. Asper moved closer, shoving his face into Cherry's, and wailed louder. Cherry stepped through him and headed for the door.

"I was thinkin' of pawnin' it," he remarked. "But I think I'm gonna keep it. Never know when you might need a poisoned candlestick."

"Or when you might stumble in drunk and forget it's poisoned," said Schim, keeping pace. Asper hurried to catch up and resumed the cacophony. It was the deputy who finally turned to him and said, "Would you knock it off?"

"I can tell this is gonna be a lot of fun for you, Jeff," observed Cherry with a cruel twist of his lips.

"I'm not through with you, Sheriff!" threatened Asper.

"I take it you went back home in our brief time apart?" Cherry wasn't bothered. He knew there was nothing the rancher could do to back up his words. "No one paid you any mind?"

"It was as if I wasn't there," said Asper, giving into a moment of sorrow.

"You aren't," said Cherry. "You've passed on. You're dead." Then, "Not my fault."

Asper gave him a curious look. "You know more than you're lettin' on. This doesn't surprise you."

"You're not the first hauntin' I've had," said Cherry casually. "But I didn't expect that feller to come around, if that's what you mean."

"This business with the lookalike," said Asper. "The monster who killed me said somethin' about him being the preacher."

"He was," explained Schim. "Sheriff Cherry and I went out the other day to see if he knew anythin' about Herman Tate and he tried to eat the sheriff."

"The preacher tried to eat Cherry?"

"Jeff thinks he's some sort of demon," said Cherry. "I think he's all right. He's like a dog, I was tellin' him..."

"Wait one minute!" The rancher planted his feet and put his hands to his hips. "You were lookin' for Herman Tate? I mean, actually lookin' for him?"

"I'm not," said Cherry, slightly insulted. "That was for Jeff. He wants to know what's goin' on. I just want him to show me where Lacey Tate's body is at so I can get that ruby ring your nephew gave her."

Asper stared. He had nothing to say.

"You had some sort of arrangement with Herman?" posed the deputy. "I heard somethin' about it right before..." Schim trailed off and matched Asper's stance, placing his hands to his hips. "You told him to pay you one-thousand dollars."

"Herman Tate is payin' you one-thousand dollars?" choked the sheriff. "What?"

"He was payin' me eight hundred and--" Asper looked between the men and, sensing he had the upper hand, adopted a cruel smirk. "No. I don't think I will say anymore."

"Okay," said Cherry. He continued on his way. Schim was less enthusiastic.

"Levi, you're dead. There's nothin' to be gained by holdin' it back."

"There's nothin' to be gained by sharin' either. Did I hear the sheriff say Lacey Tate is dead?"

Schim rolled his eyes. "Yes. She is."

"He told Lindsey somethin' to that effect. I didn't think there was any merit to it."

"Sheriff Cherry," confirmed Schim glumly, echoing the rancher's words, "knows more than he lets on."