Thursday, May 07, 2015

Opening: Day 4

Word Count: 24,006

Summary of Events:
Chapter 7:
Keiller woke up on his floor to find Sophia had already made breakfast for him. As he dressed Sophia discovered that he was a sheriff, but also that she was in California. As he headed to Coyoteville, Keiller thought about Sophia and hoped she wouldn't leave before he could help her.
Chapter 8:
Sophia thought about whether she should stay and get Keiller to help her, being as he was a sheriff, or not, and also realized she'd left her sisters behind in likely danger. Keiller searched the apartment attached to the sheriff's office where Sheriff Evans had lived for papers that might bear clues to his killer.

Excerpt of the Day:
"Now all that remained to be seen was what they contained. Keiller delicately lifted the file off of the bed, making sure that all of the little bits and scraps of paper were in his file.
Sheriff Evans had used a lot of little scraps to write note on. Keiller was doubtful that he had one full sheet of paper that hadn't had one corner or another torn out with some other note in it — if the entire page hadn't been torn into little bits with different, random pieces of information on them.
Keiller walked carefully down the stairs and into the office, where he had his saddlebags sitting on the desk, so then he could put the file inside and not have to worry about loosing any papers.
Carefully Keiller slid the file into one of the saddlebags and closed it. He checked three times that no pieces of paper had fallen or blown out of the file. Keiller then closed and locked Sheriff Evans' apartment door, the office's front door, and headed to the back.
He tacked up his horse and then finally locked the back door. Swinging into the saddle, Keiller made sure again that no papers had fallen out of the saddlebag, and found that none had, thankfully.
Most everyone was off of the streets, a raucous riot was coming from the saloon already as men drank and gambled profusely. Anyone who wasn't at the saloon was likely at their home eating their supper.
Keiller continued to make sure no papers were coming out of his saddlebag as he rode up the street. He glanced around somewhat nervously — even though he didn't want to be unnerved by Julius' suggestion, being as it sounded rather foolish.
But was it foolish? Not necessarily. It was foolish to think that someone was going to kill him for his talent at playing pool; but it wasn't really foolish to think that maybe whoever had killed Sheriff Evans was out to kill him.
It was legitimate. Many people disliked lawmen, and many lawmen had been killed over the years — whether it was over poker talent, or something more legitimate than that — being a lawman was a dangerous job.
But who? Why? Who would want to kill him? Cyril. Mr. Glanfield. Maybe Egbert, although he hadn't played billiards since the night, maybe Egbert had just had a bad day. But would any of them have wanted to kill Sheriff Evans?
Who would've wanted to kill Sheriff Evans? That was the question. He had to figure out who would've wanted to kill Sheriff Evans. He couldn't recall anyone who had been particularly upset or angry with Sheriff Evans."

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