September 14, 1899

Tombstone. 

This morning I walked into the library and looked for files on Will Braxton. I walked upstairs, knowing that’s where the court reports are, and searched through the files. I found the file on Will and pulled out the folder, seeing that it isn’t very big. I took the file and headed outside, wandering over to the Crystal Palace where I made myself a coffee. I sat down and pulled out the files, finding law reports and witness reports from the various cases regarding Will Braxton. I took out my notebook and started to write notes as I read the first law report by Sheriff Deputy Atlan Carter, dated August 12, 1883: 

I received reports of a horse theft at the Braverman’s ranch. Riding out to investigate, I asked Charlie Braverman about the incident. He told me that his prize possession, a horse name ‘Dusty’, had been stolen the night before. It wasn’t like Dusty not to stay around the ranch and he knew instantly that something was wrong.

I took another sip of coffee and continued to read, greeting a man that walked into the saloon and then continued to read from the file: 

‘Dusty was a fast horse, but he ain’t no jumper’, Charlie informed me. ‘He would never just jump the fence and wander off into nowhere. I’m tellin’ you, someone took him.’ I looked Charlie in the eye and said, “Charlie, horse theft is a serious offense. We will find those responsible for this action.” I poked around the ranch for anyone who may have seen anything but there were no clues anywhere so I headed back to the office.

I set the file aside and opened another witness report, by Charlie Braverman. I set my coffee down and continued to read: 

I was at the town dance with my wife May last night. When we got home, the barn was wide open and the stables had been tampered with. The horses seemed on edge about something, as if they knew something terrible had happened. I continued to investigate and discovered that Dusty, my prize race horse, was gone.

I closed the files from August 12 and found a law report from Sheriff Deputy Carter dated August 19, 1883. I took a sip and continued to read, noticing there was a week between incidents. 

News of the horse theft at the Braverman ranch spread like wildfire through the town. I continued to keep an eye out for anything suspicious around the ranches in the area but it had been a week since Dusty had been taken and there was still no sign of him. This morning, Bobby Davenport informed me that his daughter Lucy had been out riding on the horse named Molly when the horse had been taken and Lucy had been left behind. I promised I would talk to Lucy and went out to search for the daughter, and found her drinking tea with her mother.

I wondered to myself why anyone would scare a little girl off a horse and take the horse, leaving the girl alone. I looked for the witness statement by Lucy Davenport and began to read: 

I was out riding when a man with a bandana over his face came riding over to me. He pulled out a gun and threatened to shoot if I didn’t get off the horse and run home. I loved my horse but I would rather live, so I ran home to tell ma and pa what happened.

I closed the files putting them in my bag, and took my coffee mug over to the counter. I walked through town to stretch my legs and saw Wedge on his horse behind the bank. 

“Good morning,” he tipped his hat. 

“Hey there stranger. Long time no see.”

“Yeah... I hide well.” 

“What ya hiding from me for?” I chuckled. 

“I wasn’t... not really... been on patrol.” 

“Ah,” I smiled. “I’ve been diving into some old case files. Really interesting stuff.”

“Oh?” 

“Mmhmm. Wanted to learn more about Bisbee’s history so I looked into the archives. Found an interesting one.”

“I love their no-nonsense law,” Wedge smiled. 

“This guy... he was arrested for horse theft and was supposed to be hanged, but it’s like he disappeared from jail and no one ever saw him.”

“Hmm, really?” 

“Yep. Trying to get to the bottom of it... I don’t like the idea that someone could disappear under my nose. Going back to read over reports about his thefts... It’s from the 1880s .”

“Wow.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“You get ‘em, Tiger.” 

“I hope to... I just hope these case files reveal something useful,” I patted my bag. 

“Damn, it’s a big bag,” he looked. 

“The last one I read... was about this girl out riding a horse, and this guy with a bandana comes up to her and tells her to get off the horse and run home, so he can take the horse I guess.”

“Hmm...” 

“Seemed curious to me...”

“Well... looks like the right person to read the files,” he smiled. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Colonel.”

“I didn’t tell ya... I may have met a man.” 

“Trin... I have a secret for you. I knew that already.” 

“You did? But Alex and I have only really been in Bisbee...” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder nervously, wondering who had been talking. 

Wedge simply smiled. “When a female friend of mine goes quiet... or doesn’t talk to me for a long while... It’s a given.” 

I blushed at that. “I’ve been over in Bisbee on duty quite a bit... Haven’t been really letting myself get out much.”

“It’s oaky, Trin. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I just know my gal pals too well, it seems.” 

“You sure do... I am sorry though. Before I met Alex I was kind of laying low... letting myself process everything that happened with Sunset. Then I met him and well.. We’ve been having coffee 

every day over at Chezz Paradise and it’s been... nothing short of magical.”

“It’s all good,” he winked. “I am glad for you.” 

“Being the weekend I reckon he’s out and about wandering... Haven’t heard from him yet today. I’m optimistic though, for once.”

“Good to hear,” he smiled. “I hope he takes good care of you.” 

“He promises to. How about you? What’s going on with you? Anything new?”

“No... other than what I told you I was going to do... it is done, as everyone knows.” 

“Oh? You mean with our investigation involving Zabe?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Leaving the Rangers,” he chuckled. 

“You look awfully uniformed to be leaving the Rangers,” I looked him over. 

“This is a rough rider uniform. I turned in my badge last night.” 

“Sorry to hear that, Wedge.”

“It’s okay... The Captain wasn’t too happy to hear of it.” 

“I should let you ride along though... Need to get back to work on this case. It was really good to see you.”

“Thank you, Trin. You be careful out there.” 

“Stay safe out there, friend,” I winked. 

“You too.” 

“I can still count on you if I need a hired gun, yeah?”

“Yes, you can,” he smiled. “As a soldier though.” 

“Good to know. I’ll talk to you soon then.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and I turned to head back to Bisbee. 

Bisbee. 

I sat down in front of my office and pulled out the file to keep reading about Will Braxton. I pulled out another page from the folder and saw a journal entry, dated September 8, 1883. It was signed by Atlan Carter again and I began to read: 

Another horse theft was reported to my desk this morning, this time with a bit more serious implications. The thefts had been increasing since they started in August and my team of deputies had been trying to gain information. The case this morning presented some interesting challenges. Another horse had been stolen from the Braverman ranch and Charlie was getting anxious to catch those responsible. There was no evidence to lead us towards any clues, however, and there wouldn’t be unless someone came forward saying they saw someone acting suspicious. But as of yet, no such luck had been granted.

I put the journal entry aside and found another law report, for October 25, 1883. I read the report from a Deputy this time, Deputy Paul Langley: 

I was approached by a young woman who came to me and informed me that a man came up to her wearing a bandana and all dark clothing. She told me that he had threatened her to give up her horse, or he would kill her. She refused, so he kidnapped her and held her hostage until she finally agreed to give him the horse in exchange for her freedom. She could give me no more description on the man responsible but she did say that he was not working alone.

I blinked, knowing this was becoming more serious, and wondered if there was more ground to Alex’s theory that perhaps Braxton was working with some sort of gang. I looked for a witness report and found none. I wondered why the woman had never written more of a statement but I guessed that she had probably been afraid for her life. 

I pulled another file and read the law report from Deputy Paul for December 22, 1883: 

I was sitting in Kate’s having a whiskey off duty when a woman came to me in a panic. She told me that her husband had been out riding but he had now been missing for a few hours. She’d gotten suspicious when he hadn’t come home for dinner. Putting the drink aside, I asked her to file a witness report and to describe the horse that he was riding and if there had been any strange activity around her house lately.

I found the witness report attached and read: 

My husband George was out riding as he does every afternoon to clear his thoughts at the end of a hard day’s work. He is always prompt for dinner and I never have to worry about him. Tonight, however, he did not show up for dinner. It has been now three hours since he would normally have come home and I am growing worried that something terrible has happened to him.

I looked for a signature and saw that it was signed by a Martha Richards. I looked and found another file, dated December 24, 1883. I shook my head, realizing that it was on Christmas Eve. I read the report from Sheriff Deputy Atlan Carter: 

This evening was a Christmas Eve I will never forget. While going on a ride with my wife and son as we do every Christmas, we discovered a man’s body laying in the ground off the beaten path. Going over to investigae, we discovered that it was in fact the body of Brad Richards, Martha’s husband who had gone missing two days ago. The disturbing part was not the body, however. It was the stick that held the body of a dead rabbit hanging on it.

I stopped reading and looked at the file again, making sure I read that correctly. It couldn’t be... Not the Dead Rabbits. They... I shook my head, remembering the dead rabbit that had been left at the sheriff’s off back in June and how Alvin had said that his father had ridden with a gang called the Dead Rabbits, and that the rabbit was a symbol that let people know they were there. 

I stood shakily, walking into the office, taking the files with me. I stuffed them in the desk drawer, not wanting to look at them, and shook my head. “There’s no way...” I muttered and sat down in the chair, trying to relax.