Lincoln's Lawman Volume Two #2 The Terror of Lake Tahoe (THE VISIONARIES TRILOGY)

LINCOLN’SLAWMAN VOLUME TWO #2 THE TERROR OFLAKE TAHOE AN ADULT WESTERN ADVENTURE By A.M. VAN DORN Copyright © 2023 Cedar Ledge Publishing All Rights Reserved Table of Contents AUTHOR’S NOTE PROLOGUE PART 1: A HORDE FROM HELL CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20 CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22 CHAPTER 23 CHAPTER 24 CHAPTER 25 CHAPTER 26 CHAPTER 27 CHAPTER 28 CHAPTER 29 CHAPTER 30 CHAPTER 31 CHAPTER 32 CHAPTER 33 CHAPTER 34 CHAPTER 35 PART 2: ONRYŌ SMILES CHAPTER 36 CHAPTER 37 CHAPTER 38 CHAPTER 39 CHAPTER 40 CHAPTER 41 PART 3: TICKET TO DAMNATION CHAPTER 42 CHAPTER 43 CHAPTER 44 CHAPTER 45 CHAPTER 46 CHAPTER 47 CHAPTER 48 CHAPTER 49 CHAPTER 50 CHAPTER 51 CHAPTER 52 CHAPTER 53 CHAPTER 54 CHAPTER 55 CHAPTER 56 CHAPTER 57 EPILOGUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AUTHOR’S NOTE Thank you for joining the Riker siblings on one of their adventures. Just a quick note regarding what you are about to read. Please be advised the Rikers engage in very adult escapades and situations, including their romantic encounters and the sudden violence that can occur in their continued fight against assorted bad guys of the Old West. So, in short, these stories are recommended for mature readers of 18+ years of age. So, with all this said, it is time to saddle up and dive into the world of Lincoln's Lawman! A.M. VAN DORN Contact Information can be found at [email protected] PROLOGUE FANNETTE ISLAND Emerald Bay, Lake Tahoe California 1862 It happens once, maybe twice in a lifetime. Engaging in an act so impulsive, usually, a split-second decision, that its monumental consequences could be devastating in nature. None more so when that act is cold-blooded murder, the ramifications of which are life-altering and forever. This hard truth, however, was not going through the young man's mind as he stood numbly at the top of a cliff jutting outward from Lake Tahoe's one and only island. Lost to him was how many hours he had been standing on the windswept precipice, staring down at the base of the cliff where the shattered body lay, its skull a bloody mess resembling a smashed watermelon. He could no longer see the corpse, of course, thanks to the one-two punch of the darkness that had long since fallen, coupled with the brutal storm lashing the island all around him. Snow continually pelted his face as his eyes probed the blackness, straining to see what he could not. Instinct told him if he stayed exposed in the middle of the blizzard ravaging the great lake in time, he would be just as dead as the man below. Perhaps that was what he deserved for the life he had just taken, that life of all the lives that he could have dispatched across the River Styx. He could just jump, he knew that, but he could hear the words spoken in anger earlier that he lacked courage, and he knew it was true. It would be better just to let the storm take him … it would be easier that way, almost gentle. No! He would show him when they met in the next world, laughing in his face, that he did have courage after all, and he would prove it by making the leap. Taking a step forward, his boot impacted an object now buried in the snow. Reaching down, he scooped it up, shaking the snow from it. The end of the telescope was dented, and the blood on it still seemed wet, but the man's learned mind reasoned it was just the snow giving that illusion. As he stared at it, a change slowly came over him. The argument that had led to the crime of passion flowed back into his mind. He began to feel his blood boiling once more, just as it had in the mad moment when he had snatched the telescope from its tripod and swung it like a bat. Blood had spurted everywhere as the back of his victim's skull gave in with a squishing sound. Stunned, the older man had turned around, his unfocused eyes boring into him, his mouth agape. Stepping forward, the younger man's dropped the telescope and his hands had shot out, striking his elder in the chest, sending him out into the void. He made me do it! What that man had done to him was selfish and outrageous when he simply asked their wealth to be put to use, ensuring him a better future by continuing his education. But no, that was not the path the old man wanted for him. Instead, he was perfectly willing to risk the younger man's life by insisting he forget all his plans, return to the South, and pick up a gun in the Great Cause. More like a lost cause. Couldn't the old fool see eventually, the breakaway Confederacy would be crushed? How could he want him to possibly throw his life away for a war raging on the other side of the continent for an agenda he didn't even believe in? Was he supposed to die for some plantation owner to keep his darkies? Hell would freeze as solid as Fannette Island was becoming before he made that sacrifice! With a new resolve, he shook off the snow that had caked over his body free of his corduroy jacket and, with a mighty throw, tossed the telescope out into the blackness toward the lake. Rubbing his two hands together to end the numbness that had overtaken them, he began to turn what he considered his remarkable mind to what needed to be done next. The body below would have to be collected and then adequately weighted. Once that was accomplished, he would row out into the bay and drop it over the side. The lake was a roiling mess,