The Case of the Texas Ranger: A J.D. Pierson Case File, #2

Chapter 1

March 18, 1937 - Tyler, Texas

With a great big sigh, I bent down and lifted the heavy box of files and hobbled towards the opposite end of the office. My foot hit the edge of my desk, twisting my ankle. Pain shot straight up my leg, and I grumbled a light expletive as I finished my trek across the room to drop the box on top of the others.

Rubbing my sore ankle, I frowned and took in all that was still left to be done. I didn’t mind the hard work associated with moving our office to a smaller, less expensive suite. I was grateful our income had been steady enough to see us realizing a small profit the last several months. This move was just a bit of caution and opportunity, since our lease had ended and other accommodations had come available.

What I minded was being left behind while my father was down in south Texas, on what sounded to be a very exciting new case.

According to him, it was a case that was highly dangerous and not appropriate for a rookie detective such as myself. I wrinkled my nose as I thought of his words, then went back to his desk to finish packing up the last of our things.

I shouldn’t complain too much. Dad had been good enough to rename our firm Pierson and Pierson. He’d also let me take on some cases of my own--small things, mostly just mop-up investigations of claims that were all but resolved before I took them on.

The problem was, I’d gotten a taste of real adventure with that first case. The thrill of excitement when I solved, what we’d begun to call, The Killer Jack Matter was something I couldn’t help but miss a great deal.

Still, if there was anything I’d acquired from my beloved mother, it was patience. I would bide my time a little longer, and eventually Dad would let me go out on a real case again. I hoped…

Besides, I also had another very sound reason for not complaining too much. JD had been sober for better than thirty days now. His doctors had warned me, had warned us both, his sobriety was tenuous at best. But I was clinging to the promise he’d finally kicked that habit for good.

In the bottom side drawer of Dad’s desk, I found a little cotton tobacco bag with a drawstring top. Its contents felt solid and heavy, so I delved two fingers into the opening and pulled it wide. Inside was my father’s little eagle pin. I remembered it mostly from my childhood, and thought my father probably hadn’t worn in publicly since then. But I remembered seeing it in the closet, on the lapel of his old Great War uniform.

He’d gotten rid of the uniform not long after my mother died. I hadn’t asked questions, hadn’t really been aware enough at the time to even think of doing so. I had assumed the pin might have gone with it until finding it here in his drawer.

I wasn’t sure of its significance, but it reminded me of seeing this same pin on Mr. Alfred Killough’s lapel. All my questions about their relationship resurfaced. I knew the pin must have something to do with their service in the war, but other than that I was at a loss. Had they fought together? Did Dad know how Mr. Killough had received his injury? And what debt of gratitude did Mr. Killough believe he owed JD Pierson?

My gaze shifted to the wall of photos I hadn’t yet packed up. Towards the center of those photos of Dad and some of his colleagues was one with my mother. She was little more than my age at the time. The resemblance so striking, it hurt my chest. My father was to her right, and she was smacking a great big kiss to his cheek. The movement had caused a blur in the image. But the expression on Dad’s face said all there was to know. Behind, and to the left of my mother, was a Texas Ranger by the name of Templeton Gorham. I’d never met Captain Gorham, but he was renowned in Texas for his exploits as a ranger.

In the days before the war, my father had done a brief stint as a special ranger. But that time had been short and long ago. I didn’t know much about it, just that he’d held the rank of private.

My thoughts and questions were interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps tramping down the hallway towards, what would soon be our former office. Jimmy Wilder, a newspaper delivery boy, slammed open the door and rushed inside. His feet sliding at least a foot across the terrazzo floor as he came to a halt.

Gee whiz, Jimmy. Is there a fire or something? I put my hands on my hips and tried to look scolding. But the truth was even though I was about three years older than Jimmy, he was nearly as tall as me, so it was hard to pull off.

Didn’t you hear, Jenny? They’re bringing some of them into the hospital to be treated right now.

Hear what? And the hospital hasn’t even opened yet, I remarked. Mother Frances Hospital was holding its formal opening, and dedication ceremony for Tyler’s first such facility, the next day. Dad had been invited. But since he wouldn’t get back in time, I’d decided to attend in his stead.

Jimmy shook his head, curly red mop wild around his flushed face. No, they’re opening early to take in the victims. I’m heading over there right now to help, too.

What victims? What’s happened?

An explosion. They say the entire schoolhouse was just blown to bits, and there are hundreds of little kids dead!

My heart leapt into my throat, and I immediately felt the thundering beat of my heart against my chest.

An explosion? I murmured.

Yeah, it’s terrible. Just awful. I’ve gotta go, Jenny. My dad’s going to pick me up downstairs so we can both get over and help.

I couldn’t say anything. The very word explosion sent waves of memories washing over me. My torn dress. My mother’s blood. The haunted look in my father’s face.

Rubbing a hand over both eyes, I forced those things from my vision and took a deep breath. Hundreds of kids dead, I whispered. Taking one more second to catch my breath, I grabbed my hat and purse, and abandoned the packing I’d pledged to finish today. If the hospital needed Jimmy Wilder’s help, then they certainly could use mine as well.

Locking our office behind me, I strode down the hall, determined to keep all those ugly memories tucked away in some dark corner of my mind. Catastrophe had apparently stricken my community, and there was no time to wallow in the past.

Chapter 2

I pulled up next to several other cars, then leaned against the steering wheel a few moments, taking long breaths in and out. Swallowing against a throat that felt parched and tight. I could hear gears of machinery all around me, along with some shouts from men. Haunting wails from a woman cracked through the other noises, sending a tremor down my back. With a sigh, I sat up and rubbed the heels of my hands over my eyes.

I was bone-weary, but there was no time for rest.

Jimmy Wilder’s face appeared in the shadows a few cars from me. I opened the door and waved to him. He nodded, calling something over his shoulder. Within a few seconds, his father came through the crowd, carrying a child wrapped up in a blanket.

Hospital? I asked tremulously as I stepped out of the driver’s side and opened the back door of our sedan.

Mr. Wilder shook his head sharply, then gently laid the blanketed body into the back seat. Another man was directly behind him, his arms also laden with a covered body, this one even smaller. I knew if he was placing that one into my car too, they were both to be taken to the same destination.

The morgue. One of many set up in the cities surrounding the little oil town of New London.

The magnitude of this horrific explosion was more than my mind could even comprehend. No matter how many trips I made, there were always more little bodies to pile into my car. The oil field workers had gone into action immediately to try to rescue their children. Bringing equipment in from their rigs to move away the remains of the schoolhouse. Some of the equipment held up big lights that provided illumination to the area as nighttime fell. Along with the dark of night, rain was starting, too.

She’s alive! someone cried. I turned to see an older man, covered in not only dust and dirt and mud, but also blood. Bright and red. The blood belonged to a little yellow-mopped girl, her dangling arms bobbing as he ran with her. I blinked, forcing out memories that wanted to swallow me up whole.

Here, Jenny can take her, Mr. Wilder bumped my shoulder to motion them to me. I weaved on my feet, then rolled my shoulders back and pointed to my car. Young Jimmy shifted two deceased children aside so the girl could have room.

Margie! Margie! That’s my baby! a woman screeched, weeping and falling at the man, trying to take the child into her own arms. I couldn’t imagine how she knew this to be her daughter, as it was impossible to make out any recognizable features through the dirt and blood. Still, I placed an arm around her and walked her around to the front seat of Dad’s Model A as I addressed the man. We’ll put them in the front. Mrs.—what is your name, ma’am?

She whispered a response, and I hugged her a little tighter before helping her into the car. Mrs. Morgan will just sit here, and you can put Margie in her lap.

I tried not to look too closely at the tiny mangled child, just closed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side and started the engine. Mr. Wilder turned back towards the wreckage of the school while Jimmy lifted a hand and waved me off. He had a haunted expression in his eyes, and I wondered how much all of this would impact his youth. He was just a boy, really.

But then no more of a boy than I’d been a girl when Mom had been killed. I shook my head, denying the memories any real estate in my head. I was weary and getting a little blurry-eyed from all the driving back and forth between New London and Tyler. But I couldn’t afford to rest now. I had a little girl beside me who was still alive and needed me to get her safely into the arms of the Sisters at Mother Francis Hospital.

You’ve had enough, Miss Pierson, a young man in a doctor’s coat said to me, as I stood from the bench on which I’d been sitting. I had a cold cup of coffee in my hand, and had been just about to start back to my car when his words stopped me.

The caffeine has bolstered me, I insisted with a forced smile. They still need help…

No, Miss Pierson. I know over-exhaustion when I see it. I frankly don’t think you should even drive yourself home, except that it’s dark and raining, and a young lady such as yourself…

Doctor— I hesitated, wracking my brain for his name, but coming up blank.

Doctor Duke. We met not ten minutes ago and had a short conversation about the little girl you brought in. I told you my name three times during that conversation, but you still can’t remember it.

My hand trembled as I brought it to my forehead where a pounding