Book Read Free

Vigilante Dawn

Page 18

by Ralph Compton


  “You’re sure that’s him?” Ackerman asked.

  “I got a quick look at him when he was on his way out of Gein’s place. He was wearing the same spurs. Gein told me he’s one of the men looking to sell off my herd.”

  “Spurs?” Ackerman scoffed. “That’s all? A place like that saloon must have plenty of side doors. We’ve got to be absolutely certain that this here is the same man that—”

  “They’re distinctive spurs,” Jarrett said. “And he knows he’s the one we’re after. Look at him right now. He recognizes me. Don’t you, you son of a bitch?”

  Every word that Jarrett said was more venomous than the last. And as he spoke, he glared at the prisoner as if he were burning all the way through his very soul. The man tied to the chair stopped squirming. The recognition in his eyes was unmistakable. More than that, he seemed genuinely spooked by what he saw.

  “He’s the one all right,” Lem said. “I’d swear to it on every Bible you could find.”

  Ackerman stood beside Jarrett, stared at the prisoner, and obviously didn’t see the same thing as anyone else. “Why did you snatch him up and stash him away like this?” the deputy asked.

  “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  “We’re here to bring these outlaws to justice,” Ackerman replied calmly. “This wasn’t done the way I would have expected, but I suppose it falls within our jurisdiction to capture a fugitive by any means necessary.”

  Those words were barely out of Ackerman’s mouth when Jarrett drove his fist straight into Sol’s face. He put all of his weight behind that punch and followed through as if his knuckles would continue onward through the wall behind the back of the prisoner’s skull. Sol’s head snapped back and his body sailed in the same direction. He and the chair were overturned and his legs pointed toward the ceiling.

  “Keep still,” Jarrett said as he grabbed hold of one of Sol’s boots. “I told you to keep still, damn it!”

  Ackerman surged forward to try to grab Jarrett but was quickly grabbed himself. “What’re you doing, kid?” Lem asked as he held on to the deputy the way he would restrain an overeager child.

  “I can’t allow this,” Ackerman said.

  “It’s like the man said. This is why we’re here.”

  Although Jarrett heard the other two men talking about him, he was too busy to respond. Sol kicked and thrashed in a fairly impressive manner considering how well he was tied to that chair. Eventually Jarrett got a firm grip on Sol’s boot and pulled it off in one strong tug.

  “What are you doing?” Ackerman asked.

  “Help me set him upright,” Jarrett said.

  Since Ackerman was still too flustered to do much of anything, Lem pushed him aside so he could lend Jarrett a hand. Between the two of them, they quickly got all four of the chair’s legs on the floor. Blood poured from Sol’s nose to soak into the bandanna acting as a gag. Whenever he pulled in a breath, Sol coughed and hacked it right up again.

  Unable to get a response from Jarrett so far, Ackerman shifted his focus to Lem. “What’s he doing?”

  “Not quite sure yet,” Lem replied. “Just keep back and let him do it.”

  Jarrett tore off Sol’s spur and then tossed the boot away. Holding the spur so the sharpened end protruded between his first two fingers, he said, “In my years of riding and working on ranches, I’ve found there’s a certain kind of man who uses spurs like these.” Raising his fist so the corner of the sharpened square spur was less than an inch away from Sol’s cheek, Jarrett used his other hand to grab hold of the prisoner’s hair. “They’re the sort of men who know they’re hurting their horse, making it bleed, and don’t give a damn.”

  Sol shook his head as much as he could without jamming his own cheek into the spur.

  “They’re the sort of men,” Jarrett continued, “who are cruel and small. They don’t mind spilling blood or inflicting pain just so long as none of that blood and pain is their own.”

  As the spur drew closer, Sol became very still. His eyes widened, staring down at the spur that was now close enough for him to see every fleck of dried blood on it. When the sharpened metal touched his skin, he reflexively tried to pull away. Thanks to the grip Jarrett had on him, he didn’t get very far.

  “I won’t stand here and watch this,” Ackerman said.

  “Then step outside,” Lem said.

  The deputy moved to push Jarrett back but was pulled away by Lem. This time, Ackerman wheeled around to push back. “Get your hands off me!” he said.

  Although Lem did release him, he remained planted between the deputy and Jarrett. “They deserve this,” Lem said quietly. “Both of ’em.”

  “You hear that?” Jarrett snarled. “Ain’t no one going to come and save you. How do you like that?”

  Sol tried to maintain a brave front but wasn’t doing a very good job. The couple of words he attempted to spit out were soaked up by the bandanna over his mouth. Although relieved, he was clearly surprised when Jarrett pulled that bandanna away.

  “You got something to say?” Jarrett asked. “Go ahead and say it.”

  “You’re dead,” Sol sputtered. “All of you.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “I ain’t alone here, you know.”

  “I realize that,” Jarrett said. “Which brings me to the first thing I wanted to tell you. Well . . . actually . . . the second. First I wanted to say you’ve got a debt to pay with me and my family.” With that, Jarrett leaned his shoulder forward to push the sharpened spur into Sol’s cheek. As Sol squirmed and grunted, Jarrett pressed the spur in deeper.

  Chapter 26

  “That’s enough of that!” Ackerman said. Instead of trying to push by Lem, he stepped around to the other side of the chair and grabbed hold of Jarrett’s sleeve.

  Jarrett smiled and allowed his arm to be drawn aside. “Think about all the blood you spilled, the pain you caused, and think about how much blood I’ll be taking from you in return.”

  “Jarrett,” Ackerman said sternly. “I want to have a word with you.”

  Sol smiled up at him through the steady flow of blood spreading down his face. “That’s right, rancher. You had your fun. Time to crawl on back to—”

  “Shut up!” Ackerman snapped. “We’re not through with you yet. Just sit there and be quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

  Even though he shut his mouth, Sol still met Jarrett’s eyes with a smug expression. Jarrett wiped that expression clean away with a left cross that put the prisoner once more flat upon his back on the floor.

  After taking Jarrett to the other side of the large room, Ackerman dropped his voice to a whisper while doing his best to also keep an eye on Lem, who remained with the prisoner. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ackerman asked. “This is a posse, not some kind of lynch mob.”

  “I’m questioning him,” Jarrett replied. “You think he’ll tell us what we need to know just by asking him politely?”

  “No, but there are ways to do things. Civilized ways.”

  “That’s right. And that man gave up his chance to be civilized when he put my ranch and family to the torch.”

  “We’re not here for revenge.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  Ackerman stood his ground, waiting for a few seconds while taking a hard look at the man in front of him. As he watched, Jarrett’s heaving breaths slowed to a pace that didn’t take such a toll on him. Sweat trickled down Jarrett’s face, cooling him and granting a couple of much-needed seconds.

  “There,” Ackerman said. “I know you must want to kill that man for what he did, but it won’t help get the rest of them.”

  “I told you . . . I was questioning him.”

  Ackerman shook his head. “You may have eventually gotten around to asking a question or two, but you meant to kill him sooner rather than later. In that
state of mind, if you heard one or two more things you didn’t like, it would have been sooner and we wouldn’t have learned a thing. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  When Jarrett pulled in his next breath, he’d intended to use it to put the deputy in his place. When he released it, however, he didn’t say a word. The only thing worse than being talked to that way by a man as young as Ackerman was having to admit that the same man was absolutely right.

  “All right,” Jarrett said. “You did your job. I’ve got myself under control. Let’s get on with this.”

  Reluctantly Ackerman stepped aside. When Jarrett started walking past him, the deputy held out an arm to stop him. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  “I’ve guessed as much. And if you want to keep that arm,” Jarrett added, “I’d suggest you take it back right about now.”

  There was no way for the deputy to avoid a fight while also keeping the illusion that he was in control of Jarrett. Instead of trying to do so, he simply did as he was told and got out of Jarrett’s path.

  As he stalked across the room, Jarrett took a few more deep breaths to calm himself down a bit more. When he’d cut Sol’s face, it was almost as though he’d been several paces away watching someone else put the fear of God into that prisoner. His actions hadn’t come as a complete shock, but Jarrett had been overtaken by them without a moment to try to rein himself in. He felt the sobering ache that had become his normal state of mind return and could only vow to do his best to keep the beast inside him at arm’s length for a while longer.

  While Jarrett and Ackerman had been having their talk, Lem hadn’t exactly been twiddling his thumbs. As Jarrett crossed the room, Lem stood to the left of the chair where Sol was tied. His arms were crossed, his head was angled down to stare directly at the prisoner, and he spoke in a tone that Jarrett couldn’t hear.

  Jarrett stopped before getting too close. Sol turned his head toward him but was unable to peel his gaze away from Lem. “What were you talking about?” the prisoner asked. “What are you gonna do to me?”

  “I’ve got some questions to ask,” Jarrett said to him.

  Instead of taking any comfort from Jarrett’s more controlled tone of voice, Sol became increasingly more nervous. “What questions?”

  “How many came with you into Muriel?”

  Before uttering another word, Sol glanced over to Lem, who only nodded back at him. “Two,” Sol said.

  “Just two?” Lem asked.

  Hearing the other man’s voice impacted Sol almost as much as a punch to his ribs. He flinched and said, “Yes.”

  Although he wasn’t certain what had happened between Lem and Sol when he stepped away, Jarrett was grateful for the shift in tone. “What were you doing here?” he asked.

  “We brought a few cattle in to the Brander to see if they could be fixed up.”

  “The Brander?”

  Sol nodded. “He’s the one that changes the brands. Does real good work. The quicker and better that job gets done, the better price them cows will fetch.”

  “Where are the other two now?” Lem asked.

  “Probably long gone by now,” Sol replied. “I was supposed to meet them after I talked with Gein about a few things. Since I haven’t shown up, they could’ve skinned out of this town to bring back ten more to burn this place to the ground.” Locking eyes with Jarrett, he added, “You heard me! Burn it down . . . just like we burned your place till there weren’t anything left but ash!”

  Jarrett felt the cold touch of hatred cinch in tight around his heart, choking him from the inside. His hand slapped against the grip of his Colt. His finger slipped around the trigger. He even started to lift the gun from its resting place before he regained his composure. Ackerman was nearby, but Jarrett extended a hand toward the deputy to keep him from getting any closer.

  “Go ahead, Lem,” Jarrett said. “Seems you may have something to add.”

  Judging by the look on Sol’s face, he would rather have heard a gun being fired at him than those words. When he slowly looked away from Jarrett, Sol was greeted by Lem’s unwavering stare.

  “Them other two,” Lem said. “They’re not gone. You and I both know that much for certain.”

  “I don’t know where they’d be. How would I know?” Sol groaned. “I’ve been here for . . . I don’t even know how long.”

  “It hasn’t been that long. And before you try to pass it off that I knocked you senseless to drag you in here, I barely gave you a solid punch. You sure ain’t a delicate flower, Sol, so drop the act.”

  Sol’s mouth hung agape. One corner flinched when some of the blood trickling from the cut Jarrett had given him dripped toward his chin. “There’s a cathouse on the north side of town,” he said.

  Lem was shaking his head before that sentence was fully formed. “Gein runs the only whores in Muriel.”

  “It’s a small place. Just a couple of girls working there. Too small for Gein to worry about. Or maybe they got an arrangement with him to keep operating. I don’t know. You asked me where I was to meet the others and that’s it. I swear!”

  Watching Sol squirm, watching him bleed, Jarrett couldn’t scrape up an ounce of pity for him.

  “What do you think?” Lem asked. “You believe him?”

  “Not yet,” Jarrett replied. All he needed to do from there was walk slowly around the chair, pick up the spur that had been dropped, and fit it once again between his fingers to elicit a response.

  “That’s the truth,” Sol yelped. “I swear!”

  Standing like a statue near the chair, Lem said, “There’s something he’s not telling us.”

  “How do you know?” Jarrett asked.

  “I can see it in his eyes.”

  “Maybe I should get a look at those eyes for myself. Well,” Jarrett added as he brought the spur up, “at least one of ’em.”

  “That’s all I got to say!” Sol said. “What else do you want from me?”

  “The other men that came with you to Muriel,” Jarrett said. “Is one of them Clay?”

  “No.”

  “What about Dave?” Jarrett asked. “He was one of the others with Clay at my ranch. Is he here?”

  Sol’s eyes widened. “Yes! Dave Massey! He’s here. He’s the one you want. More than Clay, he should be the one you want!”

  Ackerman stepped forward. He knew better than to get directly in front of Jarrett or Lem, but he stood so he couldn’t be ignored by either man. “That’s it,” the deputy said. “He told you what you wanted to know.”

  “Let him talk,” Jarrett said.

  Sol was squirming like a worm on a hook and Jarrett was inclined to keep it that way, especially since he was in a mood to talk. Just to grease the wheels a bit, he placed a finger on one of the spur’s points and set it to spinning.

  “You asked him your question and he answered,” Ackerman insisted. “We’re through.”

  “Through?” Jarrett said. “Not by a long shot.”

  When Sol glanced in his direction, Lem shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Even if I could rein him in, why would I?”

  “Because I can still help,” Sol said in a hurry. “If you kill me, I won’t be able to do anything.”

  “Nobody’s going to kill anyone,” Ackerman said nervously.

  “Right,” Jarrett said. “I wasn’t planning on killing you. That would be way too quick.”

  “Hold on, now,” Ackerman said as he tried to pull Jarrett aside as he’d done before. “This is getting out of hand.”

  Lem grabbed the deputy’s arm and dragged him away from Jarrett. “It ain’t out of hand just yet, but we may be getting close to there before long.”

  That was more than enough to further stoke the panic that was evident on Sol’s face.

  “You hear that?” Jarrett asked his prisoner. “Seems like things for you are about to go
from bad to worse.”

  “What do you think you’re doin’?” Lem snarled in an angry whisper.

  Having been dragged several paces away from the other two men in that room, Ackerman tore free from Lem’s grip. “I am not to be pulled here and there like some damn kid!”

  “Would you have come along with me without a fuss?”

  “I should be over there before—”

  “Well, there you go.” Lem sighed. “He’s about to make some progress, so let’s not gum up the works.”

  “I’d say they’re plenty gummed up already,” Ackerman said. “Starting from the point when you dragged a man off the street. That doesn’t strike me as fully legal, you know.”

  “Really? And if we all caught sight of him, knowing he’s one of the men we’re after, what would we have done?”

  “Brought him back with us.”

  “Sounds a lot like taking him prisoner to me,” Lem pointed out.

  “This isn’t the same and you know it!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lem replied as he looked over to try to gauge how much more time he needed to buy for Jarrett. “I know it.”

  Chapter 27

  When he’d started this, Jarrett was concerned that he might not be able to pull it off. He’d never before set out to scare someone into giving him something, and the biggest fear was that his efforts might come across as pathetic or even humorous. The longer he stood there, however, the less Jarrett needed to do to make Sol more uncomfortable. Instead of shoving the spur up to where Sol could see every dent in the beveled metal, he simply kept it in a loose grip and allowed his arm to hang at his side. Sol’s eyes remained glued to the spur anyway, so there was no reason for Jarrett to wear his arm out.

  “It seemed to me like you had more to say,” Jarrett said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know how you think you can still be useful enough for us to consider allowing you to remain in this world for a while longer.”

 

‹ Prev