A soaked Commander Edward Smith swung open the door of his office, the creaking hinges reminiscent of distant gunfire from the battles of the Civil War. "Why didn't you inform me about the murders?" Surprised hearing the aged voice he found Mister Blayke seated at the sturdy wooden desk lit by a flickering oil lamp. His long white mustache and grey hair, held in place with pomade, gave him a distinctive appearance, while his brown eyes shone with a quick wit, and experience radiated as if he had seen it all.
"I didn't know you were in town." Smith took off his coat leaving a trail of water to the rack where he hung it. "If I had known I would have..." "Don't play the fool with me Edward." The air in the room thickened as the two men looked eachother in the eye. "And you look like shit. You're supposed to be the man in charge, not the towns drunk."
Blayke sighed and took off his hat. "Sit down Edward and please tell me why I had to learn it after the council already made their decision." "They... What did they..."
"Just sit down will you, I had a very long ride and very little sleep. Shadow's End is not next door." Smith sat down right away. "They looked like accidents. There was no reason to believe they were anything more."
Blayke's expression tightened, revealing the frustration that simmered beneath the surface. Before Smith could offer a more elaborate explanation, Blayke dropped the real bombshell. "Cord joined me. He's out at the crossing, investigating what happened this morning."
Dread settled over Smith like a thundercloud. The ticking of Blayke's pocket watch seemed to overtake all sound.
"Cord? Why Cord?" There was a hint of panic in Smith's voice. "Of all people, why would they send Cord?" Frustration seem to win over the panic. "Why did the council send him?"
"I don't know. And it doesn't matter now. He's here. Tell me rather how long this has been happening?"
A flicker of realization passed through Smith's eyes. "Did Marshal Haynes send him?"
Blayke hesitated, neither confirming nor denying. "The murders, Smith, how long? And is there any connection between the victims?"
Smith's expression hardened as he convinced himself that the council's decision was somehow orchestrated by the man he once considered a father figure.
"Why can't Haynes let the past be the past?"
Blayke, sensing Smith teetering on the edge of despair, burst out, "Damn you, focus! We've got to solve these murders before Cord decides to take matters into his own hands. Wallowing in guilt won't change the past. We've got to deal with the present."
The commander looked at Blayke while trying to get his thoughts back in order. "No." He swallowed hard. "No connection." Slowly he regained confidence by focussing on the murders. "They are all just random townsfolk."
Blayke noticed the shift and calmly asked: "What about the feathers? I've heard whispers of feathers found with blood at the scenes."
Smith let out a deep sigh. "It's true, some feathers were found. But I wouldn't jump to conclusions. We can't be blaming Indians without solid evidence."
Blayke nodded, he had known Smith for a long time and knew he liked to keep all options open. "And the curse? Voices with influence on the council claim Shadow’s End is cursed."
Smith scoffed, a bitter smile forming on his lips. "That's just a folk story, Blayke. A tale to keep the children in line. There's no curse here, just people trying to survive."
An abrupt, ominous knock echoed through the room. Both men almost jumped up at the sound and feared Cord was the one opening the door not waiting for their response.