The Dead West

Last Session...
by Quentin Myers

The weeks have been slipping by, I’ve hardly noticed though, as I’ve been so busy with the matter of Luke Crawford’s death. I’m certain now that it’s Lydia’s father, it’s the only thing that makes sense now. I’m just hoping that the matter can be settled without anyone fearing the noose. As I write this, Dr. Baker is on the way to my office. I hope that I can press him enough to be certain of my suspicions without scaring him into doing anything dumb.
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It was brief, but I am now certain that he is the one. I did my best to bolster his resolve to the matter, but followed him to insure that he didn’t do anything stupid, like trying to retrieve the iron, or making a confession.
A deadly threat to my enterprise has arisen though. A hanging judge has been to town, he has inquired about a great deal of matters with the sheriff, and seems keen on returning to insure that the crimes of the town have been solved to his satisfaction. The sheriff seems to be of top caliber, but this judge is a wrath upon this town that we don’t need.
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Grayson has not come back to town. He’s overdue by at least a few days now, and while I don’t want to alarm Ms. Blake, I have a feeling that he’s gotten himself in over his head.
My affairs are in order. I’ve re-enforced the mine with more good men, and decided not to take action, as of yet, with the foreman. Carlos Wolfenstein’s been doing decent work, and I can handle the issues in the numbers as long as the mine is producing. {} has been handling the inn and other properties well, and seems to be in quite capable hands should I not return for any reason.
The preacher, God bless him, seems to have taken a certain humble pride in consecrating his religious holdings. I don’t know what effect it will have, but I know it will bring comfort to the town. He’s more religion than I ever thought I’d see in my life, and I can’t help but admit that I feel the presence of Our Lord when he’s nearby. I sleep better than I have in years, and I hope now a bit that I might find comfort in life, away from all the torment that’s plagued me.
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Well, he’s not dead, and he’s only a bit banged up, but he’s home. Ms. Blake was happy to see us set on finding him, and although he was in quite a bit of danger, and it was necessary to dispatch his assailants, we did attempt to retrieve him peacefully, at the Preacher’s and my request. We’ve destroyed the knife, the horse, and everything involved in the whole matter of the harrowed, and happily we are rid of the matter.
Wesson, a man who is staying in my inn and has inherited his grandfather’s shop, accompanied us on the venture to save Mr. Grayson. He odd, but he is also fairly handy with a rifle. I’m not familiar with him, as of yet, but he seems good enough to be let in on some of the town’s eclectic nature.

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