
“Why in the hell does Wenger think Teddy did it?” Cobb asked.
They had brought Ernest Brauer back to the Cobb homestead, where Amanda had made coffee and a hot compress for Ernest’s head. The children were doing their chores, leaving the three adults to discuss the events in privacy.
The farmer shook his head. “I don’t know. They said they had found a note from Teddy telling Katarina to meet him at the river. Teddy said he hadn’t written any note and he hadn’t seen her last night. I can’t fathom him doing it.”
“Me neither. It’s absurd to think of it,” Amanda said.
“Let’s talk to the teacher. Want to come with me?” Zeke asked. Ernest nodded and they left the Cobb homestead and rode to the schoolhouse.
The town’s school teacher was Emilia Sturm, who was young and pretty with a round face and blonde hair tied up in a neat bun. She had come from the old country of Alsace to teach the children of the families who immigrated to Castro’s colony. Though she still retained her accent, like the marshal and others, she was conscientious of it when educating the children so they would pronounce English words correctly.
She had her back to the door when they entered. Frau Sturm was at the blackboard writing vocabulary, each word slanting severely. She turned and was startled as she saw the men waiting quietly in the back of the room. “Greetings, Herr Cobb, Herr Brauer. How may I help you?”
“Ma’am,” they said and removed their hats. “We were wondering if you could tell us about what you saw last night,” Cobb said.
The teacher dropped her chalk and then glanced sheepishly at the children. She waved the men forward and led them to her desk at the front of the room where she spoke softly. “I’ve already spoken to Marshal Wenger, Herr Cobb. I’m not sure how else I can be useful.”
“Well, anything you can say will be helpful. The marshal took Ernest’s son into custody this morning.”
The teacher gasped and looked like she had been shot. “My God! Teddy? Oh no, no, no.” She grew agitated.”Of course, what can I tell you? I was walking along the river last night, looking for a certain cactus flower. The Peniocereus greggii blooms at night, and I wanted to find a specimen for the children. I walked around a cypress and saw Katarina on the ground. Then I rushed to find the marshal. I’m sure sweet Teddy had nothing to do with it!”
“Was Katarina well-liked?” Cobb asked.
“Yes, Herr Cobb, she was a good student and liked by most.” She paused and thought for a moment. “She was a bright girl, but so vain sometimes. Always so much attention on her.”
“Yes, ma’am?” Ernest prompted.
“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead. It’s just that the boys would fight for her attention and it was a distraction from the learning. She wasn’t even that pretty.”
Ernest cleared his throat. “Which boys?” He asked.
“Well, Teddy for one, Herr Brauer. Also your Nathaniel, Herr Cobb. And Fredrich Posey. One day last week, when I had come outside to gather the children for their lessons, I saw that Katarina and Teddy were sitting together on a bench nearby, as was their habit lately.” She said with a slight huff and then continued. “I noticed Fredrich sitting off by himself near the treeline, glaring at Katarina and Teddy. He was carving something out of a stick, and then stood suddenly and snapped it before storming off. But I did not think anything of it at the time. But maybe … ” her voice trailed off as she stared at an empty desk. Teddy’s name was on it.
Fredrich was the middle son of Jean Posey, the wealthiest rancher and landowner in the area. He was a quiet boy, and a little odd. The teacher added she couldn’t prove it, but she thought maybe he was a bully. The younger kids sometimes came in after lunch rubbing pinched arms, or growing bruises and shied away from him.
“I’ve also seen some things that frightened me, Herr Cobb, Herr Brauer. Out in the trees outside the schoolyard. Squirrels which had been staked to the ground and cut open. Birds ripped apart. I do not mean to say it was Fredrich, I have no proof. But I always find them after when he has been playing in the woods.”
The two men exchanged looks and thanked her and left. As they untied their horses, Cobb suggested they go to the Posey ranch and ask Fredrich some questions.
“Do you think he did it?” Brauer asked.
“The murder or the animals?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. But my gut says to talk to him. Whatever information we can gather has to help your boy.”
This is part two of “Blood on the Medina.” Click here to read the next part. If you like these free stories, please subscribe. If you REALLY liked them, please consider leaving me a tip by purchasing it on Kindle for .99 (the cost for 1/3 of a cup of coffee).
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