by B. S. Dunn
‘What about his hired guns?’ Beth asked.
‘He’s three less, now,’ Curtis told her. ‘I killed them this morning.’
A murmur ran through the hands.
Curtis continued. ‘And your sister is right, Cody. There are other options for your timber. There’s a feller who’ll be here in a few days to look over the stuff on Mary-Alice’s spread.’
Cody shook his head. ‘Ain’t going to happen. Now I already told you once, but I’ll tell you again, get the hell off my land.’
Curtis shrugged and made to turn his horse.
‘Wait,’ called Beth. ‘I want to talk to you.’
Her brother glared at her, then shook his head. Then instead of rebuking her, he turned and crossed the yard to a saddled horse, climbed aboard, and rode out of the yard.
Beth called to one of the hands, ‘Sam, take Mr Curtis’ horse and look after it. Come inside, Mr. Curtis.’
‘Would you care for a coffee?’ Beth asked him as he sat at the large wooden table in the kitchen.
‘I’ll be fine thanks, ma’am.’
‘Call me Beth.’
‘Call me Jim then.’
‘Fine.’
‘I really am sorry about your pa,’ Curtis said. ‘I probably shouldn’t be here.’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ve done my crying for the moment. And to answer your earlier question, Cody didn’t send anyone after the sheriff because he said he’d handle it.’
Curtis nodded. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘About the timber and the cows.’
‘What about them?’
‘Tell me about the man from the company you say is coming in.’
He shrugged. ‘Not much to tell. He’ll be here in a few days. They cut trees to convert into rail ties.’
‘Which is what Brotherton wants to do,’ Beth pointed out.
‘The feller that’s coming will offer a lot more than Brotherton.’
‘Do you think you could persuade him to come over here and talk to my brother?’
‘I think your brother already has his mind made up on what he wants to do,’ Curtis said.
‘He can’t sell anything without my signature. I know that for a fact. Pa told me when he drew up the will with his lawyer a couple of years ago.’
‘Your brother strikes me as one who won’t give up easy.’
She nodded.
‘Does he have to sign off on selling cows to me?’ Curtis asked.
‘Yes,’ Beth answered. ‘But that is why I’ll give you thirty head instead of selling them to you. We’ve got some young unbranded stuff that I’ll get a couple of the hands to bring over to your spread.’
‘Your brother will like that.’
She gave Curtis a sly smile. ‘He won’t even know.’
‘One more thing,’ he said. ‘Could you get one of your hands to show me where your pa was killed?’
Beth hesitated before asking, ‘Why?’
‘Let’s just say that you’re doing something for me, so I’d like to repay the kindness. Besides, I doubt the new sheriff will be all that willing to get to the truth of the matter if he works for Brotherton.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘When you go out to get your horse, tell Sam to show you. Be careful, though, Jim. Whoever shot Pa did it in his back.’
‘I’ll be careful.’
‘He was found around here,’ Sam said. The big cowhand indicated towards a large rock surrounded by grass and trees.
From where he was, Curtis could see a wide swathe of valley to his east and south. To the west was a large tract of pines. And to the north was more of the same.
‘Who found him?’
‘Cody did. Mr Morris had been shot in the back. Cody brought him in draped over his horse.’
‘And it was normal for your boss to go out riding of an evening?’
‘Sure. He used to say it was the best part of the day.’
‘Only this time he never came home? Well, not alive, anyway.’
Sam nodded. ‘We set out looking for him this morning. Cody told us all where to look and we rode out. It just happened that he was the one who found his pa. You be right now?’
Curtis nodded. ‘Yeah.’
Sam left, and Curtis looked around. First, he found where Morris had been shot, made visible by the blood on the ground. Then Curtis walked slow circles until he found where the bushwhacker had shot from.
Whoever it was, rode in from the same way he and Sam had done. Almost exactly, except for one difference. They’d pulled off to the side into the trees and walked closer on foot until they were sure they couldn’t miss.
Which meant that they knew where they were going and where Morris would be. Curtis frowned. The killer knew his quarry. Knew his movements. He doubted that Brotherton or any of his hired killers knew Morris that well. That meant it was someone from Morris’s own spread who was more than likely responsible.
But who?
Then it caught his eye. One clear shoe print. Curtis knelt and examined it. He smiled. There was a small nick in the shoe. Just a slight imperfection. At least now he knew what to look for.
John Tinkler had been Morris’ lawyer for five years. The thick-set man who came west from St Louis to practise law on the frontier was stunned when Cody Morris told him that his father had been killed the previous evening.
But not as stunned as when Cody asked him for his father’s will.
‘I’m sorry, Cody, I can’t give it to you. Your sister has to be present for the reading. Besides, your pa has only just died. Surely you’d like to wait a couple of days before we get into the particulars of his will?’
‘I ain’t waiting for nothing,’ Cody told him. ‘Get the damned thing like I asked.’
Tinkler shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. Not without your sister present.’
Cody pulled his six-gun from leather and eared back the hammer. The lawyer paled. ‘What are you doing, Cody?’
‘Asking nicely.’
There was something in Cody’s eyes that told the lawyer that he’d shoot him if he tried to stall again. Instead, Tinkler nodded. ‘All right. But what you’re doing is against the law.’
‘So, tell the sheriff.’
Tinkler opened the top drawer of a cabinet against the far wall and riffled through some papers until he found what he wanted. He took it out and passed it to Cody. ‘Here.’
Cody snatched the paper and read it. He gave a mirthless smile and then shook his head. ‘That old bastard.’
‘I guess he thought more of your sister than you,’ Tinkler said. ‘After this, I’m not surprised.’
Cody’s eyes flared. ‘He left it all to Beth.’
Tinkler nodded. ‘He changed it a month ago when the trouble with Brotherton got serious and his foreman was shot.’
‘Who else knows about this?’
‘At this point, just you and I.’
‘Good, let’s keep it that way,’ Cody snarled and shot Tinkler in the chest. Then he slipped out the back door before anyone could arrive.
Brotherton hadn’t expected to see Cody Morris so soon. He was happy to hear the news he brought with him, however.
‘Move your men on whenever you like,’ Cody told him. ‘After you’ve paid the five thousand you said you would.’
The smile on Brotherton’s face said it all. ‘Of course. We can go across to the bank now if you wish, and I’ll withdraw it. Just sign this paper.’
Brotherton laid it out on his desk for Cody to sign. A minute later it was all done.
‘Good. Let’s go.’
Before they could walk out of Brotherton’s well lit office the door swung open and Ike Andrews walked in. ‘Someone just shot Tinkler, the lawyer.’
‘Do they know who it was?’ Brotherton asked.
‘Nope,’ Andrews said, then shifted his gaze to Cody. ‘He’s your pa’s lawyer ain’t he?’
‘Was. My pa is dead.’
> ‘Someone said they saw you going in there earlier.’
There was a flicker in Cody’s eyes. Not much of one, but it gave it all away.
‘It was you,’ Andrews words were a statement, not a question. ‘Why did you shoot him?’
‘Because he was the only one who knew,’ Cody explained.
‘Knew what?’ asked Brotherton.
‘That my father left everything to Beth.’
Brotherton’s eyes flared. ‘What? And you stand here ready to take my money for something you don’t own?’
‘It don’t matter. I have the will, and I shot the only other person who knows.’
‘He ain’t dead,’ Andrews told him. ‘They carried him over to the sawbones. He’s not good, but he’s still hanging in there.’
Cody paled. ‘Christ.’
‘Looks like you have some unfinished business,’ Brotherton pointed out. ‘You don’t get a cent until the damned lawyer is gone.’
‘What does it matter. I have the will. He can’t prove anything.’
‘He can tell them it was you who shot him, idiot,’ Andrews snapped.
‘That’s right,’ Brotherton said. ‘Get it sorted.’
‘All right. I’ll fix it. But there’s something else you should know. There’s another man coming in on the stage in a couple of days. You might say he’s your competition. Going to buy timber from that woman who came in with Curtis. That way you can’t get it.’
Brotherton’s face set like granite. ‘We’ll see about that.’
When Curtis arrived back late that afternoon he broke the news to Mary-Alice and Lester about what had happened. The deaths of Morris and Smith, and about the gunfight, also how he’d offered to help Beth Morris find the killer of her father.
‘What about this place?’ Mary-Alice asked.
‘I can do both.’
Mary-Alice placed a plate of stew on the table in front of where Curtis sat. ‘Uh huh. Did you hear back about the wire?’
Curtis nodded ‘Feller will be here in a couple of days. His name is Myers. Offering ten thousand dollars per section.’
Mary-Alice’s jaw dropped. ‘That much?’
‘Yep.’
‘How big is a section?’
‘I’m not sure, but with all this timber on your land I’d say you have at least a couple.’
‘So that would be twenty thousand?’
‘Pretty much. That’ll tide you over until you get a herd built up.’
‘Oh, God yes.’
Her eyes started to leak tears. Curtis asked, ‘Are you OK?’
She nodded. ‘I . . . I just wish Eric was here.’
Curtis glanced across at Lester. After a slow start, the man was starting to grow on Curtis, and he could see the hurt on his face. It was quite obvious that the ex-barman had grown quite attached to Mary-Alice, but her words had hurt him.
He excused himself from the table.
‘But you haven’t eaten,’ Mary-Alice said.
‘I don’t feel well. Sorry.’
After he’d gone, Mary-Alice said, ‘What’s wrong with him?’
Sighing, Curtis said, ‘You and him need to have a talk.’
‘What about?’
‘About you and him.’
She frowned and then raised her eyebrows when she realized what he meant. ‘Oh. You mean. . . ?’
‘Yeah. He likes you. Has done for quite a spell. Don’t tell me you ain’t noticed?’
‘I thought it was more to do with the arrangement we had in Opal.’
‘It may have started out that way, but it ain’t any more. Why do you think he’s been working so hard around here? He’s turned into quite a cowhand.’
There was concern on her face. ‘Oh, my. I’m not ready for anything like that. Not yet.’
‘Not yet, or not with him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, either way, you’d best have that talk with him or things are only going to get worse around here, and there’s enough going on without that.’
Chapter 8
Light shone from the window of the doctor’s office and out across the boardwalk on to the street. Cody stood in the shadows waiting for it to go out. It was some time after midnight and the old buzzard was still awake.
‘He can tell them it was you who shot him, idiot,’ Andrews’ voice echoed through the young man’s head.
‘I’ll show you who’s an idiot.’
He should have been back out at the ranch, but he needed to tidy this thing up or he’d not see a cent of the money Brotherton was offering.
It was another hour before the doctor’s light went out, and another twenty minutes before Cody drew enough courage to try the front door. When it opened without any noise, he drew in a calming breath and stepped inside. His first step made a floorboard squeak and he froze, his ears straining against the silence to hear more than his heart beating.
When nothing moved, he kept on until he found the room where the barely alive lawyer was sleeping. He slipped into the room and stood beside him, listening.
Every breath seemed shallow and held a rattle deep down. He sounded more dead than alive and would most likely die, but Cody couldn’t take that chance.
He crossed to the bed and took the pillow from under his head. Tinkler didn’t move. Cody hesitated, then placed the pillow over the lawyer’s face and held it there. At the last, the dying man stiffened weakly and then relaxed. When Cody removed the pillow, Tinkler made no sound at all.
The pillow was slipped back under his head and Cody left the room, making his way back to the front door, and into the night.
When the doctor discovered Tinkler the following morning, he assumed that the lawyer had died in his sleep. The next body he saw, however, held no doubt about the way he’d died. A knife had been driven up between Cody’s ribs from behind and into his heart.
Beth Morris was about to get more bad news – and her troubles were only just beginning.
Andrews placed the piece of paper on the desk for Brotherton to see. It was a little after eight, and the timber man had been waiting for Andrews to come to his office for a couple of hours. And he wasn’t happy about it.
‘Took your damned time,’ he growled.
The killer shrugged. ‘It’s done. You got what you wanted.’
Brotherton took up the will and read it. ‘It really does seem that Morris didn’t trust his son with his ranch after all. Did you have any trouble?’
‘Nope.’
‘Right, as soon as the new sheriff gets here we’ll move our equipment out there and start work. With the signed document allowing us access, there’s nothing Beth Morris can do.’
‘Are you still going to pay the money to her?’ Andrews asked.
‘Sure, though by the time I write in some deductions, there won’t be much left at all,’ Brotherton smiled cruelly. ‘Go and find Vince for me. I have a job for him.’
‘You want me to what?’ Vince snapped.
‘Should I say it slower? I want you to hold up the stage tomorrow and kill the man that Curtis and the whore have coming to town on it. His name is Myers, so the telegrapher said.’
‘I don’t mind killing for you,’ Vince said. ‘Especially when the money is right, but in the last couple of days we’ve killed a sheriff, that rancher, his son, the lawyer’s been dealt with, and two of my men as well as one of yours. You go holding up a stage and killing a passenger on that and you’re going to have marshals crawling up your ass to find out what the hell is going on.’
‘Technically, Cody killed his father and the lawyer,’ Brotherton pointed out. ‘Besides, Swiftcreek is a lawless town. The new sheriff should be able to sort things out when he arrives. Now, are you going to do it, or not? I tell you what, I’ll pay you an extra hundred dollars for it.’
‘All right, I’ll do it.’
‘Good.’
The stage was six miles from town the next morning when Vince and Warren, a man in Brotherton’s employ, stopped it.
They’d picked out a narrow stretch of trail which wound its way between large stands of trees, one of which they’d felled across the trail so the stage couldn’t pass.
When it rounded the curve and saw the obstacle, the driver hauled back on the reins. He cursed his luck and stomped on the brake lever while trying hard to get the four-horse team to stop. He managed to do just that before they crashed into the fallen tree. Beside him, the guard held hard to the seat so that he wouldn’t be thrown clear, and inside, the passengers tried to do the same.
The stage rocked as they all gathered themselves, and the driver growled, ‘Christ, Hank, that was close.’
‘Not wrong, Pete, we . . . oh, shit.’
The driver noticed his guard’s jaw drop and looked in the direction he stared. There in the middle of the trail stood two figures: both had pale sacks over their heads and guns in their hands.
‘Throw the messenger gun down and then you two follow it,’ a voice growled.
Hank the guard hesitated, and the speaker said in a harsh voice, ‘Don’t think about it. Do as you’re told and you’ll live through this.’
The weapon hit the hard ground and the men climbed down. The driver said, ‘We ain’t hauling nothing of value.’
‘That depends on what we’re looking for,’ Vince said. They moved around to the side and called to the passengers, ‘Everybody out.’
The door swung open and the stage rocked as two well dressed men climbed down. One had grey hair and a lined face, while the other had darker hair and was more solidly built. Plus, he had a six-gun strapped about his waist.
‘You, drop the gun,’ Vince ordered and waited while the passenger unbuckled the gun belt in silence.
Once it was on the ground, Vince ordered them to step forward a few paces. After they’d done as he’d ordered the outlaw asked, ‘Which one of you is Myers?’
No one moved.
Again Vince asked, this time with a little less patience. ‘Which one of you is Myers?’
Still no answer.
Vince pointed his gun at the driver and thumbed back the hammer. Pete blanched and threw up his hands. ‘Wait!’
‘I’m Myers!’ exclaimed the older man.
