All have their arms and wrists tied behind them with no apparent signs of a struggle. Squatting he looks closely at their ankles and wrists. Chase is surprised to see a mark on the wrist of each woman that resembles a flower. The ropes are snug but not digging into the flesh. Behind him, he hears Pierce mounting his horse and riding for the Sheriff. He continues investigating, looking for any clues as to who murdered them and why they were left in this rail car.
Sheriff Howe enters the railway yard, with Pierce leading the way and stops to stare in horror at the nightmarish scene in front of him. The August heat is not helping with the stench and Pierce wonders how they didn’t smell it before now. “Chase, what’ve we got?”
“Sheriff. Four young women, all dead, showing no sign of a struggle. Each one is bound and gagged with their throats slit. We won’t know any more until the bodies are removed. Pierce, how long has this rail car been here?”
Pierce is pale and fighting back another wave of nausea. “God, how do you stand the smell, Chase? Come out of there!”
“Smell? Oh,” glancing back at them, “I imagine it’s something I grew accustomed to during the war.” They stare at him with handkerchiefs over their mouths and walk away. He leaps out of the car and follows them into the main rail yard.
“I’ll need specific details on the car, where it came from and who had access to it, Pierce. Sheriff we will need to know everyone in town, during the same time.”
“All our cars are built in New York, but they make several stops on the way. Dalton will have those records. I’ll see to it.” Pierce hurries away, not making eye contact with his brother.
"Let's get to work, Sheriff, the bodies are already starting to swell from exposure, and I need to inspect the car for any clues."
Sheriff Howe stares at him and nods. "I'm sorry your break is getting cut short, Chase but I'm glad you're here. The Undertaker will be on his way."
Chase stands back as the women are removed from the car and loaded into the back of a wagon before being covered with a tarp. “I want a full report on the condition of the bodies.”
“Of course. Obviously, they were murdered. I want to keep this quiet, Chase until we have more information,” Sheriff Howe states.
“I understand. We need to search the car for any evidence. How long do you think it’ll take him to prepare the bodies?”
"I'd say no more than two hours. The county will pay for the burial, which will be a pine box each and unmarked graves. Unless we find evidence to suggest who they are. I'll start searching the other cars; hopefully, we will find something."
Three hours later, they come up empty-handed. No weapons, no clues, no paperwork and thankfully, no more bodies.
“I need a drink,” Chase sighs and orders a beer at the saloon, before turning to the Sheriff. “What’s taking him so long?’
“Four women were murdered Chase, let him do his job,” Howe snaps.
“What’s there to do? Measure them for a box, check for identifying markers or evidence. I think we both can agree that he won’t find anything,” Chase growls and sips his beer.
The Dusty Boot Saloon is beginning to get busy when the undertaker arrives. “Sheriff, Marshall, I’ve got your reports.” He sits heavily and removes his hat.
Mr. Brigs is a furniture maker by trade and undertaker when needed. “We had four female victims of varying ages. Each had their throats cut. I found no evidence of abuse on their bodies. They did not fight back, probably due to the amount of opium in their bodies. It leaves a signature, blue lips, and fingernails.” He sips on a whiskey and stares at them.
“This is crazy. Any other evidence?” Howe asks.
“They each have an identical brand on the side of their right wrist, below the thumb.” He points to his own wrist and continues, “A flower of some sort. Not sure what that is about.”
“Any other clues?” Chase questions.
"None that I could tell. They were dressed like painted ladies, and that is all I can tell you." Sitting back, he waits for his glass to be refilled.
Chase and the Sheriff are stunned by this news.
“So, I’ve got four whores and four boxes. Who’s paying for all of this?” Mr. Brigs asks without sympathy.
“Thank you, Mr. Brigs. Just bill the Sheriff’s office and we’ll pay for the funerals,” Chase replies. They discuss the details of the burials, unmarked graves, pine boxes and agree on a price.
“Chase, I’m going home, and I recommend you do the same. Let me know what Dalton finds out about the rail car,” Howe says standing up.
The Sheriff walks Mr. Brigs out, Chase watches them leave, and he goes over the lack of evidence in his mind. Addie and two other girls are working the room, dressed in brightly colored corsets which push their breasts up for the men to feast their eyes on. Long skirts and tights, with hair, piled high upon their heads and painted on smiles.
“You’re lookin’ fine tonight, Miss Addie,” one cowboy slurs and reaches for her only to be pushed away.
"You can look, but don't touch. This dress is my favorite," she teases with a sexy smile. Her eye catches Chase, and her smile falters for a moment before brightening at his next words.
“Miss Addie, you would look good in a paper bag!”
"Don't tell my dress designer that, he would be furious. He spent two weeks on this one." Laughing, she spins away, and
