She unlocked the shed and Sinclair saw it was stocked with two barrels of whiskey.
“What about weapons?” Odell asked.
“The men took most of the weapons with them when Connor rode out. There’s a shotgun in the kitchen. I have a pistol in my nightstand. That’s all I know of.”
“We’ll need them,” Sinclair said.
“You realize the second you pull a gun on Granger, he’s going to kill our grandson, don’t you, Ashford?” Odell asked.
“He’s planning to kill him regardless,” Sinclair said. “Our job will be to convince him to do something else.”
“Come on,” Jesse said. “I’ll show you the rest of the mess.”
She showed them where the feedbags were piled and the old equipment that had been saved for refurbishing and the new equipment that was being saved until the old equipment gave out. There were more barrels, filled with barley and yeast and other assorted goods.
“My husband would save everything he thought we could reuse and buy anything he thought we could make a dollar on. Now I’m stuck with all this useless junk.”
The last shed was set farther away from the rest of the structures and it was locked also. Jesse got down from her horse and unlocked it. “This is where we kept the poisons.”
Sinclair looked inside the shed and whistled at the shelves of brightly colored liquids. “That’s a whole heap of poison. What did you use it for?”
“Rodents mainly,” Jesse said. “They kept getting into the barns and feed supplies, so we’d mix it up with sweets and lay it all along the edges of the barn where the stock couldn’t get to it.”
There was nothing else to see except for a large hill that sat beyond the last shed. Behind the hill sat an orchard of fruit trees and untamed grass. In the darkness, Sinclair could make out two large crosses mounted on the hill’s crest. If the sun had been setting, they would have cast long shadows across the valley beneath.
“That’s where we buried Mama Edna and William,” Jesse said. “Did you know we brought her here to be with us?”
“I told him,” Odell said.
“Well, if you want to take a minute and go pay your respects, we’ll wait,” Jesse said.
Sinclair turned to go back to the house. “Let’s see if Escalante has a report for us yet.”
* * *
* * *
When they returned, Escalante and Mirta were in the kitchen drinking coffee with Miss Rena. “We didn’t see anything,” Escalante said.
“You’re kidding me,” Sinclair said.
“We checked all the best vantage points and places someone would hide to watch this place without being seen,” Mirta said. “There was nothing.”
Rena poured the rest of them coffee. Sinclair sipped his and said, “Well, that tells me all I need to know about Mr. Granger.”
“That he’s careless?” Jesse asked.
“He’s arrogant,” Sinclair said. “Consumed with his own self. He thinks he’s got us so licked that nothing we could do here would matter. A man like that doesn’t bother keeping an eye on his enemies. He’s just concerned about himself.”
“Tomorrow the three of us will ride out to go meet this Mr. Granger, then,” Odell said. “Just like we originally planned.”
Sinclair took another sip of coffee. “This surely is the best coffee I’ve ever had in my life, Miss Rena.”
“Don’t ignore me, Ashford,” Odell said. “You know that’s what we agreed to do when we got here and that’s what’s fair. Now, Mirta can stay here and I’m sure she’ll do a fine job looking after everyone. But being as I’m the one who brought this outfit together, I’m the one who deserves to be in the thick of it.”
“Let’s ask the woman in charge,” Sinclair said. He tipped his cup toward Jesse. “It’s your boy being held. Your ranch that’s at stake. You want me and Escalante and Mirta to try and rescue the boy or do you want us to try something a little more single-handed?”
“I told you I’ve had enough of your insults, Ashford! I am calling you out! Meet me outside so I can beat some of that ugly off your face!”
“You gonna do it with one hand tied behind your back, Henry?”
“Stop it!” Jesse shouted. “Both of you, just shut up! Either of you says another damn word to each other, I’m throwing you both out. Tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair, Mr. Escalante, and Mirta will go to Granger’s ranch and see if it makes sense to mount a rescue. At the very least, they will see what we are up against.”
“But—” Odell said.
“And you will stay right here,” Jesse told him. “That’s final. Otherwise, get out.”
Sinclair sipped from his mug. When no one else was looking, he shot Henry Odell a wink and Odell’s face turned crimson. Sinclair smiled and said, “This really is the best coffee ever, ma’am. Can I have another?”
* * *
* * *
That night, there was a knock on Jesse Sinclair’s door as she was getting ready for bed. Telling whoever was knocking to hang on, she put on her robe and opened the door. Her father was standing in the hallway, looking sheepish.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Odell said.
“If you came to discuss my decision, it’s too late. My mind’s made up.”
“No, I understand,” he said. “That’s all I came to say. I understand why you said what you said and I don’t hold it against you.”
“Well, good,” she said. “Why aren’t you dressed for bed?”
“I can’t sleep, thinking about Connor being over there.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to either. But Mr. Sinclair says he has a plan and all I can do is pray to the Lord that he knows what he’s doing.”
Odell had his hat in his good hand and the stump of his other hand inside the base of it. He worked the stump around the inside to smooth it out. “You know, I am truly proud of all you accomplished here, you and William. I know I wasn’t a good father to you. I did my best after your mother passed, but it wasn’t enough. You were so young, and I was just stupid really. I could have chosen a different path, but I didn’t, and I’m paying for it now.”
“Listen,” she said. “It’s late. This is all ancient history to me and I’m far too worried about my son being in the hands of some maniac than I am about your hurt feelings over the past.”
“Fair enough,” Odell said. He smiled for his daughter as best he could and said, “I love you, Jesse. Always have. You get some rest now.”
“You too,” she said and she closed her door.
Henry Odell stood in the dark hallway and listened to make sure the house was quiet. He fixed his hat on his head and went down the steps toward the front door and stood there and listened again. No one was coming and the halls were empty. Odell opened the front door and walked out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The first thing Henry Odell noticed about Nelson Granger’s ranch was that it was incredibly vast but empty. It would be morning soon, but no roosters crowed. No cattle lumbered in the fields. The ranch seemed to be big enough to encompass a whole town, but there were no horses or pigs or any other stock of any kind. It was filled with massive fields that stretched as far as the eye could see, yet no crops grew upon them. Instead, there were wagons full of wheat and corn and so much fruit that it had rotted at the bottom and leaked through the undercarriage. It was a place that consumed but did not produce.
Odell wondered how many people were starving in that region while Granger sat on enough food to feed an entire town? For some men, it wasn’t enough to possess great things. They had to make sure no one else had it either. They only enjoyed what they had if they knew they’d taken it from you.
The entrance was unguarded and Odell made his way down the path toward the only structure visible from the road. It was a multistory mansion of marble and stone, with lit candles in all of its windows—windows
that were larger than any man. Beyond the windows, he could see lights sparkling off of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the mansion’s ceilings.
The porch, which ran the entire length of the front end of the house, had rounded marble columns and two marble lion statues at the bottom of the steps and two more at the top. Someone had tied purple capes with gold fringe around each of the lions’ necks and the capes rippled in the wind.
As Odell rode toward the mansion, a man came out holding a rifle. Odell held up his horse and said, “Good morning.”
The man cocked the lever on his rifle. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Henry Odell. Who might you be, kind sir?”
“Todd Tremaine. I work here.”
“I can see that. Well, Todd Tremaine, your employer has my grandson, Connor Sinclair. I’ve come to speak with Mr. Granger and see if we can’t arrange the boy’s return.”
Tremaine looked confused. He leaned over to look past Odell at the empty road behind him. “That kid in there’s your grandson?”
“Yes, he is. Is he all right?”
“You come alone?”
“Yes, I did.”
Tremaine leveled the rifle at Odell. “Put up your hands.”
Odell did as he was told.
“What happened to your other hand?”
“It was cut off by some prison guards at the Territorial Prison in Wyoming. Have you ever been to Wyoming, Todd?”
“No.”
“I can’t recommend it. Is Mr. Granger about so that I might speak with him?” Odell went to lower his hands.
“Don’t you move!” Tremaine shouted.
“All right.”
“You’re a prisoner now. I got you!”
“Very well. May I speak to Mr. Granger?”
“Hey! Hey, y’all, I got a prisoner! Come out quick! It’s that kid’s grandfather. What you say your name was?”
“Henry Odell.”
“I got Henry Odell at gunpoint!” Tremaine called out. “Ulai! Ulai, get out here!”
A figure appeared behind Tremaine that made Odell’s eyes widen. The entire doorway filled with something the shape of a human, but much too big. It had to lower its head to come through the door. Its shoulders were so wide, its sleeves brushed the frame on either side. As the creature came forward, Odell saw that it had a sloped forehead and twisted mouth. Its eyes were black and small and glared at Odell. The creature grunted.
“That’s right, Ulai. Now, you bring him inside while I go get Mr. Granger,” Tremaine said. “You got him?”
Ulai lumbered down the stairs toward Odell. He wore ragged work boots that dragged across the marble with each step. Someone had outfitted him in a pair of filthy wool trousers and an animal-skin shirt. How many animals had it taken to craft such a thing? Odell wondered. He backed away and said, “Hang on there, friend. I mean you no harm.”
Ulai snarled and grabbed Odell’s arm with such force, he ripped the stitching around the shoulder of his jacket. The giant pitched Odell toward the marble steps so hard, his feet came off the ground. He stumbled into the steps and landed on his elbows. When he tried to get up, he saw the giant coming toward him.
Odell scrambled up the steps to the porch. “I came here on my own. There’s no need for any of that.”
Ulai came up the steps three at a time, his misshapen mouth twisted into a cruel grin.
Odell spun around and sprinted through the mansion’s front door to get away. “Stay back!” he cried. “I’ve come here to speak with Mr. Granger as a gentleman, and I demand to see him this instant!”
Someone struck a match in the dark hallway behind him, and Odell turned to see Todd Tremaine lighting a lantern. The lantern was held by a thin man with slicked-back hair and a plush velvet robe and silk pajamas. The mustache on his lip was shaved to a thin line no larger than if it had been drawn by a pen’s quill. He cupped the candle’s wick until the flame grew bright and hot.
“Let no one accuse Nelson Granger of being anything but gentlemanly. My man here tells me you are Henry Odell,” the man said.
“That’s right, Mr. Granger,” Odell said. “I was hoping we could discuss the matter of my grandson, Connor Sinclair.”
“Connor Sinclair is your grandson?”
“Yes, sir. Do you have him here?”
“Well, well, well well well.” Granger smiled at Odell. “Why don’t you follow me into my parlor so we can discuss this in a proper fashion? It’s right this way.”
Odell glanced over his shoulder and saw that the giant Ulai was standing in the doorway, blocking his escape.
“I apologize for not being dressed to receive visitors, Mr. Odell. I confess the rigors of running my business wear me plum out. When the sun goes down, so do I, and I don’t wake until breakfast is made. Were you riding all night?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You must be what they call a night owl.”
“I’ve never needed much sleep,” Odell said.
He followed Granger into the parlor and was directed to sit down. The parlor was decorated in rich red fabrics that were draped over the backs of red velvet sofas and sitting chairs and all of the tables.
“Todd, be a prince and put another log on the fire, would you?” Granger asked. “I’m sure it will warm up this afternoon, but there always seems to be a chill in the morning air these days. Don’t you agree, Mr. Odell?”
“It sure does seem that way, Mr. Granger,” Odell said.
Granger folded one leg over the other and draped his hands over his knee. “So where were we?”
“My grandson, Connor,” Odell said. “You have him.”
“Let me think,” Odell said. He ran his hand through his hair to smooth it back as Tremaine tossed a log on the fire and left the room. “We do get our fair share of visitors here.”
“I’m certain you’d remember him,” Odell said. “His mother is Jesse Sinclair. You’re attempting to negotiate the purchase of her ranch and it’s my understanding that Connor did not approve of the sale and came here with some men to discuss the matter with you.”
“You don’t say? How bold,” Granger said.
“Now, I do not approve of the way he went about it. I promise you that. I just came to ask if you’d release him to my custody so that I can return him to his mother. She’s very upset about the matter and I want to lay her mind at ease.”
Tremaine returned with a cup of coffee in a saucer and Granger took it from him and rested it on his lap. “If I recall correctly, Jesse Sinclair is a recent widow. I believe her husband was the victim of some unfortunate mishap. I heard he was trying to clean his gun and it somehow went off.”
“Something like that,” Odell said.
“How tragic. Tell me, has your daughter considered who she might marry next? A feisty woman with her own ranch is a tasty proposition. I’m sure she’ll have suitors lined up for miles when word gets out.”
“I believe she is still grieving her husband, Mr. Granger. She loved him very much.”
“Is that right?” Granger said. He smiled. “Well, life goes on, doesn’t it? I’m sure she’ll get over him in due time.”
“Can I see Connor, Mr. Granger?” Odell asked.
Granger set his coffee down and said, “Of course. I apologize. I keep getting distracted. Todd, tell Igal to bring our guest Connor in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Granger,” Odell said.
“You met Ulai, did you not? I thought I saw him on the porch when you walked in.”
“I did,” Odell said. “He’s quite a specimen.”
“He certainly is. I’m told he’s the runt of the litter. You know, the little one everybody thinks is cute but nobody would trust to guard the henhouse, if you know what I mean.”
A heavy footstep on the staircase above them made the framed portraits on the parlor�
��s walls shake.
Odell leaned forward. “I’m sorry. You said that giant outside—”
“Ulai. Yes?”
“He’s the small one?”
“Not by much, but you can see it if you’re around them enough,” Granger said. He tapped the side of his head and said, “Slower too. I mean, neither of them can talk, but, how can I put this? Ulai stays outside, and Igal stays in the house. Does that make sense?”
The footsteps were getting louder and closer. Granger looked at the staircase and smiled. “I’d give anything to know how big they were when they were babies. I cannot fathom what their poor mother endured birthing them. Unless she was big like them, they must have ripped her right in half.” A shadow passed over the doorway and Granger turned in his seat. “Here’s Igal now.”
Granger was correct, Odell realized. The second giant was larger than his brother. His shoulders were less stooped and his face less misshapen. Stranger still, he was dressed in a fine black suit and a crisp white shirt. The cuffs of the shirt were buttoned with cuff links the size of silver dollars. The giant reached for something in the stairwell and yanked Connor Sinclair into view.
Connor struggled against the giant’s grip, but it was futile. “Get off me!” He was dressed in a colorful robe like Nelson Granger’s and it flew up around his shoulders as he staggered into the parlor. Connor stood up and rubbed his neck where Igal had grabbed him. “I told you I was coming!”
Odell shot to his feet and ran toward his grandson. Igal growled and came through the door to intercept him, but Granger called out, “No, Igal! It’s all right. Let him see the boy.”
“Grandpa Hank?” Connor gasped. He wrapped his arms around Odell and Odell kissed the boy on top of his head and stroked his hair.
Odell looked down at the left side of Connor’s head and saw his ear. He tilted Connor’s head and looked at the other one. “Your ears,” Odell said.
Ralph Compton Face of a Snake Page 14
