Slocum and the Misty Creek Massacre

by Jake Logan

  “Because,” Vesper said, “they took a stand against you. They found out about the shipments of gold and silver you’d decided to rob when they crossed Misty Creek. They didn’t take the blood money you offered for them to keep quiet, and they didn’t take part in the murders you and your men committed to make sure there were no witnesses left to testify that no Pawnee so much as knew about the cargo being shipped through there or had any reason to kill a single soldier. That is,” Vesper added, “apart from the reasons you’ve been giving them throughout your years killing them wholesale.”

  “You’ve got some damn nerve to talk to me like that,” the major said. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You dare to call me out when you’ve done far worse?”

  “You asked how I knew those scouts were good men. I was just giving you an answer.”

  “And you killed those good men for that money in your hand. What’s that make you?”

  Without taking so much as a second to think it over, Vesper replied, “It makes me a murdering son of a bitch. I blast men’s heads apart before they know they’re in my sights. I kill them without needing to know whether their souls are pure or black. I’ll tell you what that makes me, sir. It makes me the last man on earth you want to trifle with. Want me to tell you what sort of man you are, sir? You’re good at picking your spots for a fight. That’s a part of leading men into battle. You recognized a good opportunity when your unit was approached to watch out for those wagons rolling through Pawnee territory carrying such valuable cargo. Taking that cargo made you rich. Pointing the blame at the Indians was easy. Wiping out those settlements along Misty Creek made you look like a man of action while also covering your tracks. I make it my business to know who I’m dealing with. Not to pass judgment, mind you. Just to cover myself in the event a client gets a bit too big for his britches.”

  “I came with my payment,” the major said. “You’ve got your money.”

  “That was when the agreed-upon price was for the deaths of two gunmen. To be honest, if you wanted me to kill any of those useless dregs that are sitting in jail now, I would’ve accepted less. But you wanted me to bring down good men. That’s extra.”

  The major let out a single, scoffing breath. “Why? A fee to ease your conscience?”

  “It’s just extra. Not a lot more and I know you’ve got enough to cover it.”

  In the silence that followed, Slocum wondered if the men downstairs were getting ready to fire at each other. Tension filled the air like fog before the major’s voice cut through it. “How much more?”

  “An extra fifty percent of the original fee.”

  “Thirty.”

  “Forty-five.”

  “Fine. I’ll have it for you after the trial.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you’re not carrying a good chunk of money with you?” Vesper asked.

  “Since I’m paying extra, I want you to keep an eye on me just to make certain I leave this town without a scratch.”

  “You’ll be safe here. Anyone in Kansas knows I take care of this place.”

  “You’re a vigilante,” the major spat. “Plenty of towns have ’em. Just like rats.”

  “You’re the one who hired me, so you must have known what you were getting.”

  Slocum didn’t need to see the major’s face to know there was smug satisfaction on it when he said, “I hired you because this is the place where my boys were brought by those goddamned scouts. You did the job and now you want more money. But,” he added before he was reminded yet again of what the extra fee was for, “I suppose that sort of good service deserves reimbursement. I’ll pay the extra forty-five percent you want so damn badly. That’s for killing those two scouts and for seeing that I get out of town unharmed.”

  “Who are you so worried about? Slocum?”

  “Don’t you mind who I’m worried about. That’s the task and that’s the pay. Take it or leave it.”

  “I’ll take it. As you mentioned,” Vesper said, “this is my town. I watch over it no matter what. For the money you’re offering, you could strut around wearing a gold crown and still expect to leave without a scratch.”

  The heavy footsteps thumped once more against the floorboards. “Good. See to it that I do. I’ll have the rest of your money in Dodge City. There may be some men there that need to be taken care of as well.”

  “Who?”

  “The gambler that Milt did some side work for. After all the trouble I went through to cover my tracks at Misty Creek, I won’t see it undone because of some loose-lipped cardsharp.” The major pulled open the door as if he intended on ripping it off its hinges and stormed out.

  “Major!”

  The steps that had knocked against the house’s front porch stopped. When Vesper approached him to talk, Slocum was no longer able to hear what was being said. Rather than get greedy by trying to learn even more, he eased his way into the bedroom, which had the largest window looking out to open ground. He winced every time his boot scraped against the floor, hoping that the sound wouldn’t be loud enough to catch either of the other men’s attention. When he got to the window, Slocum tried the latch. Just as he’d guessed, it was oiled well enough to come undone with little effort and even less noise. He tried to ease the window open, but could tell it wasn’t about to slide very far before scraping against the frame.

  Outside, the men were still talking in hushed tones. Slocum guessed he would have at least one more chance to get away from the house without alerting its owner. That chance came when the men finished talking and the major stomped away. His steps knocked against the front porch with authority, sending dull shockwaves through a good portion of the structure. As soon as he heard the first step, Slocum shoved the window open and began climbing out. He made it onto the narrow molding and perched there just long enough to slide the window down again. The major was off the porch by now and Slocum could only guess that Vesper would head inside. The countdown in his head was only slightly off, which meant he hit the dirt beneath the bedroom window a half-second after the front door was closed again.

  There wasn’t enough time to worry if he’d been heard or not, so Slocum ignored the stinging sensation in his knees and ran toward Third Avenue. Once there, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, slowed his pace to a leisurely stroll, and walked as if he were simply out to pull some fresh air into his lungs.

  As much as he wanted to look back at Vesper’s house, Slocum kept strolling toward Main Street. Considering the deadly talents of the man he’d left behind, he expected to hear the crack of a rifle and feel hot lead tear through his back at any moment. Then again, after the shots that Vesper had already pulled off, Slocum doubted he’d have much warning at all before a single round sprayed his brains onto the street.

  Seeing the bulky figure strutting ahead of him didn’t take his mind completely from the looming specter of death, but it gave Slocum something else to think about. The wide-shouldered frame and overbearing posture looked like the source of the voice he’d heard at Vesper’s house, and the powerful gait that rattled the boardwalk along Main Street sure as hell matched the one that had made enough noise to cover his escape. To add insult to injury, the major strutted directly to the Whispering Hills Hotel, where he would surely get one of the best rooms in town.

  17

  After he’d gotten away from the Vesper house unscathed, Slocum knew he should just lie low and wait for the proper moment to make another move. After hearing about the motive behind the Misty Creek Massacre, the only thing Slocum wanted to do was knock on the doors of each person remotely connected to it and make them pay for what they’d done. He knew more than anyone that spilling all the blood in the world wouldn’t bring a single soul back from the grave, but it would at least balance things out for the rest of the world. Nobody should get away with something like that. Nobody.

  His first stop was the jailhouse. Slocum was stopped by Teaghan’s deputy before he could get close enough to knock on the solid wooden door.r />
  “Just where the hell you think you’re goin’?” the young lawman asked.

  “I want to have a word with some of those prisoners.”

  “On whose authority?”

  “The sheriff’s,” Slocum replied. “Just walk me in there so I can ask a few questions.”

  “Not until I hear from the sheriff.”

  Almost as frustrated at himself for the fumbling attempt at a bluff as he was by the deputy’s reluctance to swallow it, Slocum turned his back to the jailhouse and said, “I’ll just have a word with him myself.”

  Teaghan walked around from the front of his office to intercept him. “You got something to say, Mr. Slocum? I’m right here.”

  “I’ve got some questions to ask those prisoners.”

  “That’s what a trial is for.”

  “This trial may be a farce if those men aren’t even being made to answer for the right crimes.”

  Crossing his arms, Teaghan asked, “What crimes might that be?”

  After having too many run-ins with too many crooked lawmen, Slocum was reluctant to expose everything he knew to this one. Although he didn’t know with absolute certainty that Teaghan was dirty, he didn’t trust the man enough to tip his hand. What he wanted was to get a look at the prisoners’ faces when he confronted them with some of the things he’d just heard from the major and Arthur Vesper. One flinch at the wrong time could speak volumes, but only if he was there to see it. “Don’t the prisoners get visiting hours?” Slocum asked.

  “Not this close to trial.”

  “What’s the harm?”

  “Judge Whetuski said there was to be nobody speaking with the prisoners or otherwise doing anything that might taint the case. He don’t get out this way very often, and he won’t have this trip wasted.”

  “I’m not about to stand in the way of a trial!” Slocum protested.

  If the sheriff’s head had been filled with gears, they would have snarled up and started to smoke as he tried to think beyond the simple orders he must have been given. Finally, Teaghan said, “The judge told me no one’s to see the prisoners and that’s that.”

  When Slocum felt someone slap him on the shoulder from behind, he almost wheeled around to punch whoever had decided to get rid of him. Instead of any of the sheriff’s or judge’s men, he found a determined blond woman who barely even flinched at the motion of Slocum’s fist.

  “Bethany?” Slocum said as he lowered his arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Maybe you oughta take him home,” Sheriff Teaghan said.

  The angry fire in Slocum’s belly was stoked to new heights, but Bethany wasn’t about to let go of his shoulder.

  “Come on,” she said while pulling him away. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

  Slocum turned and planted his foot so he wouldn’t be dragged one more inch. “I can fight my own battles!”

  “So this is a battle now?”

  “No.”

  “Then maybe you should explain it to me.”

  Emboldened by the proximity of the sheriff and the growing distance between himself and Slocum, the deputy chuckled, “Yeah. Go on and explain it to her.”

  “Don’t let them bait you,” she whispered. “It’s just a stupid game.”

  Slocum knew that much already. Of course, his blood was churning so hard through his veins that he might have taken a swing at the next man who made a move at the wrong time.

  “Trial’s tomorrow, right?” he asked.

  “Bright and early,” Teaghan replied.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “You and most of the town. Best come well ahead of time to get a good seat.”

  The sheriff didn’t have a very big audience, but he was playing up to it as much as possible. Now that he’d had a chance to catch his breath and get his wits about him, Slocum saw the two lawmen for the strutting idiots they were. Also, he reminded himself that all the trouble he’d gone through to keep from drawing too much attention would be undone if he let his temper get the best of him now. When Bethany tugged at him again, he allowed himself to be pulled away from the sheriff’s office. Teaghan and his deputy giggled among themselves and swapped what were surely uncomplimentary jibes at Slocum’s expense.

  “Let them think what they want,” Bethany said as she walked beside him and entwined her arm around his. “It’ll just be that much more of a surprise when you knock them onto their asses.”

  “I should trust your judgment.”

  “It’s better than that asshole Whetuski’s judgment,” she grumbled.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, he’s all right for the smaller things, but dangle enough cash in front of him and he’ll jump higher than a hungry trout. Sometimes it don’t even take cash. He gets sick of bedding that clerk of his every now and then, I suppose.”

  Slocum turned to look at her. “You never mentioned this before.”

  “Why would I? It’s town business and not exactly the sort of thing we’re anxious to share with outsiders.”

  “So I’m no longer an outsider?”

  She shrugged and continued down Main. “You deserve the truth.”

  Slocum followed her to Third Avenue, where they turned north and walked toward her house. “How’d you know I would be at the sheriff’s office making a scene?”

  “I didn’t. I was on my way to the Bullseye and couldn’t help but notice the commotion you were making. Thought I’d step in before you did something you would regret.”

  “What I wanted to do may not have been the proper thing,” Slocum said, “but I doubt I would have regretted it.”

  “I don’t think many people in town would have minded seeing any of those men get put in their place. The law does its job around here, but just barely. More often than not, they’re an afterthought once the damage has already been done. The trial is tomorrow,” she sighed. “I suppose you’ll want to be there to watch?”

  “I’ll be doing more than watch.”

  “Then I suggest you keep your nose clean until you can have a seat at the proceedings. Judge Whetuski never has any qualms with pitching folks out of the feed store for the slightest thing.”

  “Feed store?”

  Having arrived at her house, Bethany turned and motioned toward the rest of the town. “Do you see a fancy courthouse anywhere? The feed store is the biggest place other than a barn where the judge can hear his cases. He doesn’t like it, which I’m sure will be made clear within the first few seconds of the trial. Come on inside before you get into any more trouble.”

  Slocum followed her in, but his mind was already working through the next several possible moves he could make to prepare for the next day. As if sensing every one of those plans, Bethany shut the door behind them and moved in to place her hands on either side of his head.

  “Stop thinking about it!” she scolded. “I can hear all that nonsense rattling around inside of you like rocks in a tin can.”

  “I think I should be offended by that.”

  “Really? And what would you do about it?”

  His hands moved reflexively to her hips and she responded by drifting close enough for her breasts to press against him. Even though he enjoyed the way she slowly ground her hips, he reluctantly told her, “I really should do a few more things.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Straighten my thoughts to make sure I say the right things tomorrow. Odds are I’ll barely get one chance to say my piece.”

  “You’ve got all night to think about that. Even though you should get plenty of sleep, I’m sure you’ll be up to all hours mulling it over. What else?”

  “There may be some men out to kill me.”

  “Nothing new there. I’ll be sure to keep you away from big windows.”

  “I’m serious,” he said in a voice that relayed anything but that sentiment. Her hands had wandered between his legs to stroke his
crotch until his body responded to her. She didn’t need to wait too long for that.

  “So am I,” she purred. “Is there seriously something you need to do that you haven’t already done?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is that why you stormed over to the sheriff before you were prepared?” When she didn’t get anything but a disgruntled look from Slocum, she smirked and said, “I may not have known you for long, but I know you better than that. I saw the way you were snapping at Teaghan and that poor hapless deputy of his. You weren’t any better than a dog pacing at the end of a rope. If I turn you loose now, you’ll just get yourself into trouble.”

  “You think you can keep me in one place?”

  She smiled at the challenge and immediately began unbuckling his pants. Her hands reached down to stroke his penis until it was fully rigid. “I’ve got one or two ideas that might take your mind off of things.”

  Slocum meant to say something to that, but couldn’t get the first word out before she’d knelt in front of him and wrapped her lips around his cock. Bethany kept one hand in place at the base of his shaft, stroking slightly as her tongue swirled around his tip. She opened her mouth in a wide smile as her tongue flicked out to tease him while she looked up into his eyes.

  “Trial?” Slocum said as he slid his fingers through her hair. “What trial?”

  “That’s more like it.” Then Bethany moved her hand away so she could devour every inch of his rigid member. She took him into her mouth and sucked him hard until Slocum’s knees began to buckle. She seemed more than a little surprised when he pushed her away so he could lift her to her feet. She was even more surprised when he picked her up and carried her to the most convenient room he could find. The front room was small and there were too many stairs between him and the bedroom so he settled for the kitchen. There was a heavy wooden bench there that she used as a table and counter for chopping vegetables. It was sturdy enough to support her weight when she was set on its edge.