Free Sentinels by Matt Manochio Page B

way anyone could’ve known we were coming. You asked Lyle to do the job, he contacted us that day and we went that same night.”
    â€œHe’s right. We didn’t meet in town or nothing,” Lyle said.
    â€œThen that means Toby Jenkins is skilled at keeping up his guard,” Diggs said. “This, when you think about it, makes sense—I’m certain you three stellar examples of sophistication were not the first group to try to make trouble for him. Are we certain those negroes who live on the Elkton farm weren’t the murderers?”
    Lyle raised his hand to respond but before he could:
    â€œDon’t answer that.” Diggs wagged his finger at the two. “How would you know? You most certainly wouldn’t. But I suspect the sheriff and his merry men will take further interest in what happened at Toby Jenkins’s home, and thanks to Franklin, Sheriff Cole or one of his minions will seek to speak with you, again. Now, I have ways of finding out what the lawmen know—that doesn’t concern you, though. But should my typical channels of information somehow be closed, I want you three—” Diggs furrowed his brow like he was solving trigonometry in his head— “check that, I want you two —dump Franklin into a mine shaft for all I care—to see what you can glean from the sheriff or whoever it is who interrogates you. In fact, don’t even tell Franklin I want you to do this because I’m quite certain he’d manage to confess that he was on Toby’s property and that he’s really sorry and that it won’t happen again. As far as the law is concerned, you weren’t there. You experienced a hunting accident like you so brilliantly said. Franklin was at home sleeping. How hard is that to bungle? But ask questions to elicit answers from the sheriff. At least try to.”
    â€œMister Diggs, so what if this is connected?” Lyle said.
    â€œI want that negro’s property. And if Elkton and Jenkins are—how do you Americans say it?—in cahoots with one another, then it requires some creative planning on my part. But not right away. The Army will be out in full force tonight, and for the foreseeable future until this all dies down. And as inbred and stupid as Klansmen are, even they wouldn’t be foolish enough to seek revenge so soon after the last night’s shenanigans. We all must wait, but while we wait, we will make prudent use of our time.”
    â€œUnderstood,” Lyle said. Brendan nodded.
    â€œVery good,” Diggs said and then sighed. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to rid my house of Franklin and his odor. Be a dear, both of you, and wait here for him.”
    â€œAin’tcha gonna invite us inside for a cool glass of sweet tea?” Lyle said with a smile.
    â€œ Fine . One glass each.” Diggs grimaced at the prospect of such filthy men soiling his abode. He got Lyle’s attention before he entered. “Take the glasses with you.”

Chapter Nine
    â€œWhat do you expect me to do with them?” Brady Young, Henderson’s undertaker, directed the soldiers to park the wagon behind his office building, a lonely two-story structure hidden by a hangman’s oak and some evergreens off a Main Street side road.
    â€œI didn’t know where else to take them,” said the young coachman. “I mean, it ain’t like a battlefield funeral, unless you want us to dig a ditch and throw them in and mark it. Except for the soldiers, I don’t know who they are.”
    â€œSomeone does.” Noah Chandler stayed mounted on his horse next to the wagon. “Sheriff Cole’s back in town, and he expects word will spread enough so that whoever knows these gentlemen and finds out they didn’t come home last night will stop by the office for any news.”
    â€œWell, what do you want me to do?” said Young, a scrawny, bespectacled, sixty-year-old imp of