Burning Daylight

by William W. Johnstone

  “Where are you heading?” Luke asked.

  McKinney shook his head and said, “You’ll find out about that when you need to, and not before.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Stockbridge leaned forward. “You will be sure that my percentage comes my way, Jack?”

  “Of course,” McKinney replied. “I want to know this place will be here when we need it.”

  Stockbridge smiled and lifted his glass. “A pleasure doing business with you, as always. Now we can continue with our supper.”

  The meal had lost some of its appeal for Luke, but he put up as good a façade as he could. He had known that he stood no chance of capturing Jack McKinney as long as the outlaw was in the Black Castle. Getting him out of the stronghold and away from his gang was the best way to bring him to justice. Cutting him out of the herd like that, so to speak, wouldn’t be easy. In some ways, Luke was putting himself in an even more dangerous position, and he knew it.

  There was also the question of whether Aaron McKinney still wanted his father brought in and turned over to the law. If he didn’t . . . if he had decided to forgive McKinney . . . that would complicate things even more. Luke might have to give up on capturing the outlaw and figure out a way to get Aaron and Thad back safely to their mother.

  He could always go after Three-fingered Jack McKinney later, he told himself grimly.

  CHAPTER 25

  Although the atmosphere was still rather strained, the rest of the late supper went smoothly enough. Adele steered the conversation to art and music, and then after the meal was over, Stockbridge suggested that they have brandy in a parlor where Adele could play the piano for them.

  “I appreciate the offer, Sir Henry,” McKinney said, “but I’m a mite tired and tomorrow will be a busy day, so I reckon I’d better turn in.”

  “All right,” Stockbridge said. “How about you, Luke?”

  “Other than some slick-haired opium addict with no talent pounding the keys in a saloon, I haven’t heard any piano music in quite some time,” Luke replied. “So I won’t pass up this opportunity.”

  Stockbridge smiled. “You won’t regret it. Adele is an excellent musician.”

  “Stop it, Sir Henry,” she said. “You’re embarrassing me.” Her smile told Luke that she enjoyed the compliment, however.

  McKinney said good night, then the other three went to the parlor where Paloma brought snifters of brandy to them. Adele sipped from hers, then set it on a small table next to the piano. She sat down on a bench and let her fingers trail over the keys with seemingly effortless ease, coaxing a tuneless but appealing medley of notes from them.

  Luke and Stockbridge sat in armchairs next to a massive fireplace that was cold at that time of year. The stone mantel above it was quite impressive.

  Stockbridge crossed his legs and asked, “Cigar?”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Luke replied.

  The Black Knight took two fat cheroots from his vest pocket and handed one of them to Luke. They trimmed the cigars, then Stockbridge snapped a match to life and lit both smokes.

  As they sat back to puff on the cheroots and sip brandy, Luke said, “I almost feel like I’m in some fancy club back in Philadelphia or Boston.”

  “Or London,” Stockbridge said as he regarded the glowing coal at the end of his cigar. “I’m British, you know.”

  “I recognized the accent. You don’t have much of one, anymore, but it’s still there for someone who’s familiar with such things.”

  “You’ve known Englishmen before?”

  “Quite a few, in fact.” Luke smiled. “Even without the accent, I think I’d have a hunch that only an Englishman would build a place like this and call himself a knight.”

  Stockbridge laughed, a booming sound that for a second drowned out the song that Adele had begun to play on the piano.

  “Yes, it is rather obvious, isn’t it? And a bit bizarre, too. As you said, we might as well be taking our ease in a gentleman’s club, and yet just outside these walls lies the wilderness of Arizona Territory, filled with snakes and scorpions and bloody-handed Apaches. The men who come here as my guests are outlaws—bank robbers and killers—as far from being gentlemen as anyone could ever imagine. We’re surrounded by the untamed American frontier, yet here in the Black Castle lies a refuge from all that.”

  “An oasis,” Luke murmured. “I saw the garden and fountain in your courtyard earlier this afternoon, remember. Another contrast, all that beauty surrounding the spot where two brutes tried to beat each other to death.”

  “That description fits Creager well enough, but you’re hardly a brute, Luke,” Stockbridge objected.

  Luke blew a smoke ring and said, “All men can be brutes, under the right circumstances.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” The Englishman’s voice hardened slightly as he went on. “My brother, for example, is an aristocrat and highly respected, and yet he’s also a vicious boor. If he’d had his way, instead of sending me to America the family simply would have locked me up in a tower somewhere and let me rot.”

  “A long-standing tradition,” Luke drawled.

  “Ah, yes, Richard III. You know the story from the play or the histories?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, I’m no defenseless prince. And someday, when I have enough money and power, my brother Cecil will rue the day when he—” Stockbridge stopped short, shook his head, and waved the hand holding the snifter. “Never mind all that. Let’s just enjoy the music, shall we?”

  Luke did enjoy Adele’s playing. She ran through a number of classical and light operatic compositions. He knew some of them, while others were new to him. She was skilled, no doubt about that. She must have had lessons back in Philadelphia, before her father lost most of his money, he thought.

  When Luke and Stockbridge had finished their cigars and brandy, and Adele brought another piece of music to a close, Stockbridge stood up. “This was a very pleasant evening, but I think it’s time to say good night. I hope you sleep well, Luke.” He smiled. “Are you ever going to tell me your last name?”

  “Maybe,” Luke said. “When I come back here.” He was going to come back one of these days, he told himself.

  A fortune was waiting inside those walls for the bounty hunter who could figure out how to capture the Black Castle. It seemed like an impossible task, but Luke thought there must be a way. He would need help to do it, though. One man couldn’t, and neither could an army . . . but the right group of men . . .

  He put that intriguing thought out of his mind and took Adele’s hand when she left the piano and went over to them. He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it, then said, “Thank you for all your kind attention today, and for the beautiful music this evening.”

  “Perhaps I can play for you again sometime.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Stockbridge linked his arm with Adele’s and said to Luke, “Paloma will show you back to your room.”

  “I’m sure I can find it—”

  “It’s no trouble for her.”

  Luke understood that the man didn’t want him wandering around the castle by himself. Since he planned to ride out the next day with McKinney’s gang, he didn’t see any point in pressing the matter, so he just smiled and nodded.

  “Good night, Luke,” Adele said over her shoulder as Stockbridge led her from the room.

  “Good night,” he told her. Their eyes met for a moment, and he thought he saw something there, a wish that she was going with him and not Stockbridge. Or maybe he just imagined the whole thing, he told himself as the servant woman appeared in the doorway to escort him back to his room.

  It didn’t really matter anyway.

  * * *

  Nothing happened to disturb Luke’s sleep that night. Other than being a little stiff and sore from the battle with Creager, he felt pretty good as he got dressed and went downstairs.

  The smells of coffee and bacon led him to the great hal
l where a number of roughly dressed men were having breakfast at the long table. Stockbridge wasn’t there, but Jack McKinney was, as well as Creager. Luke assumed the men were McKinney’s gang having one more meal before riding out of the Black Castle.

  He was very happy to see Badger O’Donnell sitting at the table, looking pale and gaunt but sitting up under his own power as he ate. A bulge under his flannel shirt marked the location of the bandages wrapped around his midsection. He grinned and started to stand up when he saw Luke, but Luke waved the old-timer back into his chair.

  “I’m mighty happy to see you looking better, Badger, but don’t push yourself too hard,” Luke said as he came up behind Badger’s chair.

  The old outlaw turned and reached up to clasp Luke’s hand. “I’m tolerable better, and it’s all thanks to you, son. I’d never have made it here if it hadn’t been for you. When Doc Mitchell told me you was ridin’ out today, I knew I had to see you again so I could thank you.”

  Luke smiled. “It was my pleasure. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”

  Badger looked a little rueful as he went on. “I reckon I owe you an apology for sorta misleadin’ you about me bein’ a prospector and all. Truth is, I have done a mite o’ prospectin’ in my time—”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Luke broke in. “I didn’t exactly fill you in about all the details of my life, either. We’ve become friends, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Durned straight it is.” Badger squeezed Luke’s arm.

  Stockbridge walked in. He cleared his throat, prompting Luke to pat Badger on the shoulder and then walked toward the head of the table, passing along behind some of the members of McKinney’s gang.

  Creager was on the other side of the table, so Luke got a good look at him. The big man had a strip of plaster over his nose to stabilize the cartilage that Doctor Mitchell had worked back into place. Huge bruises surrounded both hate-filled eyes as he glared at Luke. He didn’t say anything, though, and turned his gaze back to his plate. It seemed likely that McKinney had had a talk with him and warned him not to cause any more trouble.

  Even if Creager had agreed to that, Luke didn’t expect it to last. The venom would continue to fester under the surface until sooner or later it would erupt again. Luke intended to be ready when that happened.

  McKinney stood up and gestured toward an empty chair at the table, beside the place where Aaron sat. Thad was next to his father, then the younger brother.

  As Luke walked toward the empty chair, McKinney said, “Some of you fellas have already seen him, but for those who don’t know, this is Luke. He’s going to be riding with us for a while.”

  One of the men spoke up, saying, “Luke? That’s all? Just a front handle?”

  “Make the back one Jones,” Luke said. “That’ll do as good as any.”

  Several of the men nodded in acceptance. A lot of hombres who called themselves Jones or Smith rode the owlhoot trail. As a matter of fact, for a number of years Luke actually had gone by the name Luke Smith, when he was still trying to conceal his true identity as a Jensen.

  As Luke sat down next to Aaron, the youngster said, “My pa says you’re coming with us. Is that right?”

  Luke looked over at Aaron and tried to read the boy’s expression. He had a good poker face for his age. Not for a second had Luke forgotten that Aaron was the only one who knew he was really a bounty hunter. Aaron could point a finger at him any time and seal his fate. Luke was too outnumbered to survive if it came down to a gunfight. The best he could do would be to take some of the varmints with him. But so far, Aaron had held his silence.

  All Luke could do was hope that would continue. “That’s right. I thought I’d ride with your pa and the rest of the bunch for a while. Is that all right with you?”

  Aaron grunted. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He turned his attention back to the plate of food in front of him, shoveling in flapjacks, eggs, and bacon with the appetite of youth.

  Maybe that was a signal that he didn’t intend to betray Luke. Luke hoped so, but he thought it would be a good idea to have a heart-to-heart talk with Aaron anyway, as soon as he found a chance to speak to the boy privately.

  Breakfast was good. After Luke washed down the food with a couple of cups of strong coffee, he felt better. One by one, as the outlaws finished, they got up and left the room. Luke supposed they were going to get their horses ready to ride. Since apparently he was the last one to arrive for breakfast, he was also the last to finish, although Jack McKinney and his sons lingered in the hall with him, taking their time finishing their coffee.

  When Luke was done, too, McKinney said, “I told Creager I didn’t want any more trouble between the two of you. He agreed.”

  “But you don’t really believe him,” Luke guessed.

  McKinney shrugged. “I think he means it . . . right now. He’s still a little addled. But he hasn’t forgotten that he hates you, and I don’t reckon he ever will. How are you at having eyes in the back of your head?”

  “I’ve lived this long, haven’t I?”

  McKinney chuckled. “Good point.” He drained the last of his coffee from the cup. “Let’s go.”

  The boys got to their feet as Luke stood and said, “I have to get my saddlebags and rifle.”

  “They’ve already been brought down and put on your horse. Sir Henry runs an efficient operation here.”

  Luke didn’t like the idea of other people handling his gear again, but he supposed there was no point in complaining about it. After saying good-bye to Badger, who would continue to recuperate there, and shaking hands with him, Luke walked out of the castle with McKinney, Thad, and Aaron.

  The rest of the gang had assembled in front of the huge structure. Most were already mounted. Several pack animals were loaded with supplies, as well. He spotted his horse, saddled and waiting for him, and walked over to it.

  Before he could mount up, Stockbridge walked out of the castle and came over to shake hands with him. “Your visit was brief but entertaining, Luke. I hope you’ll come back sometime in the future.”

  “I’m planning on it.” It was a completely honest answer.

  Stockbridge turned to McKinney and shook with him, too. “Good luck to you in your next endeavor, Jack. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again, as well.”

  “More than likely,” McKinney agreed. “Although one of these days I plan to get out of this business.”

  “Most men who ride the dark trails and hear the owl hoot feel the same way,” Stockbridge said with a smile. “In reality, though, few of them ever leave this way of life behind.”

  “You did.”

  Stockbridge said, “No, I just found a slightly different path to ill-gotten gains.” He let out one of his booming laughs. “At heart, I’m still just as much of a brigand as ever!” He stepped back and lifted a hand. “Farewell, gentlemen! Vaya con Dios, as our friends from below the border say.”

  Luke had swung up into the saddle. He lifted his reins and waited for McKinney to take the lead. With Aaron and Thad riding right behind him, McKinney led the way. Luke hung back to blend in with the others, and he also wanted Creager in front of him, not behind him. Creager gave him a baleful look, then nudged his horse into motion.

  As Luke fell in alongside some of the outlaws, he glanced back at the castle. He had thought he might see Adele again this morning, but she hadn’t been at breakfast and she wasn’t with Stockbridge as the gang pulled out. Maybe she was watching from one of the windows in the castle, but Luke couldn’t tell about that.

  Reluctantly, he put her out of his mind. She had made her own choices, and while he wished her the best, that was all he could do. He was surrounded by men who would have happily killed him in an instant if they knew he made his living by hunting their kind. That was what needed to occupy his attention, not some cool, attractive blonde from Philadelphia.

  With Three-fingered Jack McKinney at their head and Luke in the middle of the bunch, the gang rode through the tunn
el, out of the stronghold, followed the zigzag trail down to the creek, and single file, headed up the narrow canyon into the Arizona badlands.

  CHAPTER 26

  The trip along the canyon past the guards was uneventful. They emerged from the canyon where the creek ran and turned west, riding through the hills toward higher elevations.

  Luke felt the eyes of Stockbridge’s men on him. Much of the time since setting out on his journey, Luke had felt he was being watched, and as it turned out, that sensation had been absolutely accurate. First Aaron had followed him, keeping an eye on him, and so had the Apaches. Then, as he and his companions rode toward the Black Castle, Stockbridge’s guards had looked on.

  While inside the castle, Luke had often felt like he was under observation, as well, and no doubt he had been. He had a hunch that the servant woman, Paloma, had been ordered to keep an eye on him.

  Out in the open again didn’t mean he was out of danger. Creager wanted him dead, for sure, and so would every one of the other outlaws if they ever discovered the truth about him.

  With that on his mind, Luke walked up casually to Aaron when the gang stopped around midmorning to rest their horses for a spell. He was wiping sweat from his mule’s flanks with a rag.

  Luke said quietly, “You and I need to have a talk.”

  “About what?”

  “I reckon if you stop and think about that, you’ll have a pretty good idea.”

  Aaron glanced over at him for a second, then turned his attention back to what he was doing. Without looking at Luke, he said, “Nothing’s changed . . . yet. If it does, I’ll let you know in time for you to do something about it.”

  Luke took that to mean Aaron still wanted his father brought to justice. If the youngster decided differently, he would warn Luke, so that the bounty hunter could slip away without having his true identity revealed.

  Whether or not Luke would actually do that if such a situation arose . . . well, he wasn’t sure about that. He supposed he would have to wait until the time came. But at least he was more confident now that Aaron wouldn’t betray him without warning. He’d had a hunch that was the case. Confirmation was welcome, though.