Chapter Twenty-Five
Grover’s warning: You will learn to show respect if I have to use my fists to beat it into you, and his threat: Don’t be ridiculous, Bonner.
You are a storekeeper, and yours is not the only store in Blackfield.
You have no power in this county kept echoing in Cornelius’ head.
He needed to get even with that smug rancher and had just the plan.
Mid-afternoon Sunday, he entered the living room, interrupting his wife’s reading.
“There are a few things I need to do at the store before tomorrow,” he said. “I expect to be home for supper.”
Hattie frowned but didn’t bother to look up from her book. “Okay.”
He knew she enjoyed reading but didn’t care that he interrupted her.
The children were outside playing, which kept them from making noise in the house.
Theirs marriage was loveless, and the children were a societal obligation.
His own father demanded that he marry and produce offspring.
The old curmudgeon had died early, thank goodness, but not before Cornelius married out of obligation.
Hattie thought she could change him. It hadn’t worked.
At the store, he closed the front door behind him and left the shade drawn.
He glanced around the store as he passed through the shelves on his way to the stairs.
Up in his office, he removed his hat and suit coat.
Sitting at his desk, he pondered his plan.
He needed the courage to do it. He stood and went downstairs into the central part of the store.
He knocked a few things off the counter in a broad sweep with his arm.
Items clattered to the floor. He walked to a display of cheap trinkets and pushed the entire cabinet over.
It crashed, scattering glass, wood, and metal bits.
This would cost him, but it was worth it.
Looking at the mess, he thought it reasonable and appropriate.
It would fit with his story to the sheriff.
On his way to the stairs, he stopped in the children’s toy section.
A toy baseball bat would do the trick. He reached for one and carried it with him up the stairs.
He sat at his desk. This next part was going to be unpleasant.
He rolled up his shirtsleeves. He drew a deep breath, held his arm out palm up, and began pounding the arm with the bat.
The pain was intense, but he could endure the discomfort to achieve his goal of getting Sterling once and for all.
He thought of how Sterling said Felix was a man and could make his own decisions.
That kind of thing didn’t fly with Cornelius.
His boy belonged to him and would damn well do whatever Cornelius wanted.
He pounded the other arm and then whacked his head several times.
Dizzy and bloody, he tossed the toy bat to the floor, staggered down the stairs, and stumbled through the store.
He tugged open the door and weaved onto the wooden sidewalk, where he faked a collapse.
The rinkytink piano in the saloon three doors down reached his ears. He heard boots clomping fast against the wooden sidewalk.
“Mister, you okay?” Asked one of the two men who approached him.
“Sterling,” Cornelius muttered, “came in the store and attacked me.”
His face and head were covered in blood. The two men helped him up and sat him on the edge of the wooden sidewalk. One of them went for the doctor and the sheriff.
* * *
Sheriff Jackson arrived first. He had served as sheriff in Blackfield for five years and knew everybody in the county. He knelt, taking account of the blood and bruises. “What happened, Bonner?”
Cornelius winced and panted, “Grover Sterling. Came into my store the other day, yelling and screaming at me. Today, he came back and attacked me.” Cornelius looked distraught, which was not difficult to understand, given his appearance.
Sheriff Jackson nudged his hat further back on his head.
“Why do you think he came back? Was there a reason for him to attack you?” An accusation against one of the county’s most prominent citizens needed a thorough investigation.
Plus, such actions did not fit with the Grover Sterling he had known for years.
“I don’t have any idea, Sheriff. I was working in my office. I guess he saw the lamps were lit and came in.”
“Was the store open?”
Cornelius shook his head. “No. I had the doors closed and the blinds drawn.”
“You didn’t hear Grover Sterling open the door?”
“No, sheriff. I heard a ruckus downstairs, and when I stood to see what was happening, he rushed up the stairs and took a bat to me.”
Sheriff Jackson clicked his cheek and shook his head. “I see. Mind if I go in and have a look?”
“No, sheriff. Help yourself.” Cornelius never locked eyes with Sheriff Jackson.
The doctor arrived.
“Doc, you see to his wounds while I take a look around.” Sheriff Jackson stood and walked into the store through the still-open front door.
As he entered, he noticed the shades pulled down over the windows.
It seemed strange that Sterling would see lamps through the drawn shades, especially when the downstairs lamps remained unlit.
Only an office lamp upstairs glowed. Several items lay strewn about the floor.
The things from the counter seemed to have been pushed off as if someone were walking out of, not into, the store.
They were scattered toward the front of the store.
Why would Sterling walk past the counter, turn around, and push things off?
Sheriff Jackson wondered. Then he noticed the overturned shelf.
It fell toward the back of the store, so it was pushed from the front.
It missed a rack of fine-cut glass pieces behind it.
Oddly, the shelf with the inexpensive items is pushed over.
If I intended to do damage, I would have pushed over the stand with the more expensive items. Something didn’t add up.
He made his way through the store, looking for any other damage before heading upstairs to Bonner’s office.
A toy baseball bat lay on the floor, smeared with blood on one side.
The way it lay on the floor, it looked like it could have been tossed from the desk area, not from an assailant standing somewhere.
Of course, a bat could land in any kind of way when tossed aside, so he reminded himself not to jump to conclusions.
Back down the stairs, he walked through the store. The entire scene just didn’t make sense. Grover Sterling was not the kind of man who would make a mess. Nor was he the kind of man who would use a baseball bat. He would use his fists.
He took one last look, finished his investigation, and walked to where the doctor was treating Cornelius. “Looks like I need to go have a chat with Sterling. Are you able to get home all right, Bonner?”
“Yes, sheriff. I can make it.”
Sheriff Jackson nodded. “I’ll stop by your home later and check on you.”
“Thanks, sheriff,” Cornelius said as the doctor wrapped his head.
The sheriff mulled over the inconsistencies in Cornelius’s story as he walked to the livery.
He saddled his horse and rode to Sterling Ranch.
It took about twenty minutes at a steady gallop.
When he arrived, a note on the door said, "Gone to Bowdens for the afternoon.
" He rode over to the Bowden Farm and found the Sterlings and the Bowdens sitting on the front porch, engaged in an afternoon visit.
The two young cowboys were in the orchard picking peaches.
“Howdy, Sheriff,” John Bowden greeted the new visitor.
“Howdy, John.” Sheriff Jackson touched the brim of his hat.
“Sheriff.” Grover gave a wave. “What brings you out this way?”
“Actually, I need to see you, Grover. Can we go someplace and have a little talk?”
“Sure.” Grover stood, “John, can we use your barn for a minute?”
“Help yourself,” John nodded.
The sheriff dismounted and tethered his horse to the hitching rail.
Grover joined him, and as they strolled toward the barn, the sheriff shared the story.
“This afternoon, someone attacked Cornelius Bonner in his store and ransacked it. He told me you came into his store and made a mess of the place before racing upstairs to his office and taking a toy baseball bat to him.”
Shock crossed Grover’s face.
The sheriff held up his hands. “Before you say anything, I know you’re not a violent man. You'd hardly resort to such tactics even with a man you disliked.”
“Sheriff, I’m not one to use violence unless provoked. I would never attack a man with a weapon. That’s a coward’s way, and I’m no coward. Besides, if I were ransacking his store, would he not come downstairs and try to stop me?”
“I thought that same thing, Grover. He said you rushed up the stairs, making it sound like he didn’t have time to go down. I understand you were in his store the other day, and you two had rather loud words.”
“Sheriff, at Bonner’s request, his son Felix worked at my ranch this summer.
After Felix won the calf roping competition at the rodeo, Cornelius decided he wanted Felix to return and work in his store.
Felix chose instead to return to the ranch and asked me to let him stay.
He’s of legal age, and Felix told his father he wished to stay on the ranch with us. ”
“What was the yelling all about, then?”
“Cornelius sent a letter to Felix. The letter was very cold and uncaring, which upset Felix because his father would treat him that way. It angered me, and I rode into town and spoke with Bonner about the letter.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“I suppose I did, Sheriff. I told him if he ever sent another letter like that to Felix, we would take the argument to the street.”
“Did another letter arrive for Felix from his father?”
“No, Sheriff.”
“Have you been here all afternoon, Grover?”