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Sirian Summer (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 2)

Page 15

by John Bowers


  “I saw one, heard about the others.”

  “Did anyone else take part?”

  “I don’t think so. It was Joel’s show. Nobody else would have dared if he didn’t invite them to, and he didn’t.”

  “Was Constanza Valenzuela one of the girls?”

  “No. She’s wasn’t in high school yet. She only became a freshman this year.”

  A boot scraped from across the room and Nick turned to see Willis Kline leaving the Vega. He dropped several greenbacks on the bar as a tip for Kristina. Nick returned his attention to Nathan.

  “Are you feeling up to making a little trip?”

  Nathan perked up and he nodded.

  “Sure. Where to?”

  “The Outback.”

  “Holy shit! That’s two thousand miles!”

  “Near enough. You ever been there?”

  “No, never. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

  “I need to return a car that I took from there. I need someone to pilot it down and bring me back. I’ll pay you for your trouble. Assuming your dad agrees.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’d love to go. Dad won’t mind.”

  Nick grinned. “Great. We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

  Nick left the Vega a half hour later and started back to his office, ducking his head against the wind and dust that whistled past him. As he crossed the last street before the hotel, he saw Sheriff Blake’s door open and two men walk out. The first was Willis Kline; right behind him was Gerald Graves.

  Nick’s anger boiled over, and he broke into a trot as he crossed the street at an angle. He was on top of the two men before they saw him.

  “Stop right there!” His pistol was in his hand, and both men stopped dead in their tracks. Nick slowed to a walk as he approached them, rage burning in his eyes.

  “What the hell is going on here? I just locked that man up!”

  Kline’s mouth hardened and his voice grated. “I bailed him out,” he said.

  “What do you mean you bailed him out? No bail has been set!”

  Roy Blake stepped out onto the wooden walkway, a guilty look on his face. “I set the bail, Marshal,” he said. “It’s customary to let people out until time for the hearing.”

  “Like hell it is!” Nick grabbed Graves by the arm and shoved him toward Blake. “This man will be charged with at least two felonies, both of them human rights violations! You put him back in that cell and if he gets out again it better be over your dead body!”

  “Now wait a goddamn minute, Walker!” Blake swelled with bluster.

  “I need that man, Marshal,” Kline said. “He’s a ranch foreman, and we have a lot of work ahead with Sirian Summer right on top of us. I can’t spare him just to gratify your hard-on.”

  Nick holstered his weapon and stepped back, facing Kline squarely.

  “You can’t have him,” he said. “He’s a Federation prisoner. Bail won’t be set until arraignment, and that won’t be for two or three days.”

  “Not good enough,” Kline said.

  “Too bad.”

  “He’s not a flight risk, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kline insisted. “He lives on the ranch, his family is here, everything he owns is here. I’ll vouch for him, if that’ll make a difference.”

  “It won’t.” Nick wheeled on Blake. “Lock him up, right now! And if you ever release one of my prisoners again without checking with me, I’ll have you up on charges of obstruction!”

  Blake turned two shades of purple, but the fury in Nick’s eyes blocked any retort. He took Graves by the arm and apologetically led him back inside. Nick turned his attention back to Willis Kline, who stood clenching and unclenching his fists. Kline was clearly angry enough to fight, but something held him back.

  “I think you were just leaving,” Nick told him. “Seems you’ve got a lot of work to do before the really hot weather hits.”

  “Goddammit, Walker! I’ve about had it with you!”

  “Mister, if you want a piece of me then just name the time and place. I’ll even take off the badge to spare you from charges of assaulting a U.F. Marshal. But until you’re ready to do that, just remember who you’re talking to. And leave Gerald Graves right where he is.”

  Kline trembled with fury, but after another moment he took a step back.

  “My old man will be back tomorrow,” he said. “I dare you to talk to him the way you just talked to me!”

  “He knows where I live.”

  Kline glared for another few seconds, glanced up and down the street to see if anyone was watching, then turned toward his pickup. Nick followed him.

  “By the way,” Nick said. “Now that we’ve settled that, where can I find Joel Graves?”

  “What do you want with him?”

  “Just want to talk to him.’

  “You gonna lock him up too?”

  “Not unless he’s done something wrong. His name came up and I need to eliminate him as a suspect. I can’t do that unless I talk to him.”

  Kline’s eyes narrowed.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Kline started his engine, but didn’t move the pickup. He sat there another moment, then looked up at Nick through the window.

  “Joel is working the southwestern sector, over around Village twenty-two.”

  “How will I recognize him?”

  “Kind of hard to miss. Big, good looking kid, just eighteen years old. He’ll be with Slim Owens, who’s about seventy and looks a little bit like a scarecrow. They’re working the cotton fields down there. You don’t find them, just ask the serfs—they’ll know exactly where they are.”

  Nick nodded and stepped back. Kline put the pickup into gear and spun a donut in the street, heading back out of town.

  Nick crossed the street to the hotel, feeling his blood pressure settle a little. He nodded to Sam and climbed the stairs to his room, unlocking it and cranking up the air. It was barely afternoon, but already he felt sweaty and gritty, so he stripped to the skin and climbed into the shower.

  Ten minutes later he stood toweling himself down when a knock came at the door.

  For some reason, he reached for his laser pistol, but then he heard Judy Norris’s voice.

  “Are you in there, Marshal? It’s me.”

  Wrapped only in a towel, he cracked the door and peeked out. Judy Norris was leaning against the wall, wearing a micro-skirt and a top that barely covered her nipples. She looked bored, but her interest quickened as she saw the towel, and a smile crossed her lips.

  “Hello, Nick!” she said throatily. “Are you going to leave a girl standing alone in the hall?”

  Nick opened the door, wondering if she ever did or said anything without putting on the act. She stepped inside and watched him close the door, then sighed deeply.

  “It’s cool in here!” she said. “That A/C feels wonderful!”

  “Don’t you have A/C in your room? All the other rooms have it.”

  “Of course I do, but when I come in here my heat level rises so high that I appreciate the cool air more.” She smiled at him. “Seems like you have a promise to keep, Nick,” she said.

  Nick frowned. “What promise?”

  “You asked for my help yesterday. You said you would make it worth my while.”

  Nick stood in silence for a moment, considering. Finally he nodded.

  “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

  She moved within a foot of him, her eyes holding his in a deliberate challenge. With catlike grace she twitched her shoulders, and the thing across her breasts somehow dropped down to her stomach, leaving Nick an unrestricted view of everything she had above the waist. He felt his mouth turn dry at the sight, and felt his breath come a little faster. She leaned forward a few inches and kissed him, then pulled back and tilted her face, her lips an open invitation.

  “So when were you planning to pay up?” she murmured.

  Nick hesitated only a moment. It was damn hot outsi
de, and a half hour or so wouldn’t change the course of history. He leaned down and kissed her.

  “How about right now?” he asked.

  He let the towel drop.

  Chapter 17

  When dealing with local community leaders, it isn’t necessary to win every argument. Pick your battles.

  Page 253, U.F. Marshal Handbook

  Tuesday, July 21, 0442 (CC) – Kline Corners, Sirius 1

  The next morning Nick checked in at Dr. Taylor’s to make sure the girls were safe, then stopped by the jail to see if his prisoner was still locked up. Satisfied on both counts, he walked over to the Vega for breakfast.

  A thin wisp of smoke drifted from the kitchen, carrying the aroma of hot flour gravy, bacon grease, and fresh coffee. Nathan Green was seated at the bar wolfing down pancakes, Kristina hovering over his coffee cup. A dozen other customers ate at the tables.

  Nick took a seat two stools down from Nathan. “Morning, you two,” he grinned.

  Nathan nodded, his mouth too full to speak.

  “Hi, Marshal.” Kristina poured him a cup of coffee and placed it in front of him. “Steak and eggs?”

  Nick shook his head.

  “I’ll go with bacon this time. Three eggs, and some of those biscuits.”

  “Right away.” She smiled and headed into the kitchen.

  “And gravy!” Nick called after her.

  He turned to Nathan. “Got your overnight bag packed? It’s gonna be a long day.”

  Nathan swallowed and nodded, reaching for his coffee cup.

  “Sure do. I can’t wait to get on the road. Will we be there long enough to see any sights?”

  “Not likely. I have to return that car, and then I need to check in with the marshal down there to clear up a few details. Once we get there, all that should only take a few hours. I figure we’ll catch a few winks and then head back.”

  Nathan nodded, but Nick saw disappointment in his eyes.

  “There isn’t really that much to see,” he said. “It’s just wild country, desert badlands. Nothing to write home about.”

  Nathan took another bite. “I packed a gun,” he said. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure. It’s probably not a good idea to go down there unarmed. You might want to unpack it and keep it where you can reach it, just in case.”

  “What time are we leaving?”

  “Soon as we finish eating.”

  Kristina came out of the kitchen and picked up the coffee pot, touring the other tables to refresh cups. “I wish I was going with you,” she said when she came back.

  Nick smiled at her, but made no comment. There was no way he would take Kristina to the Outback without at least a dozen gunmen to protect her. With her stunning Vegan looks, she would be a target for every sex-starved prospector who saw her, law-abiding or not. She was so gorgeous she almost didn’t look real.

  He sipped his coffee, running things through his mind, hoping he wasn’t overlooking anything. Suzanne Norgaard came out of the kitchen with his breakfast and set the plate before him.

  “You’re up bright and early this morning,” she told him.

  He grinned. “So are you.”

  He heard the door open behind him, but didn’t look around. His fork was poised over the eggs and bacon when he became aware of Suzanne’s sudden tension. She was looking past him, at the door.

  Nick spun around.

  Willard Kline stood six feet inside the doorway, his feet braced as if ready for a fight. Willis stood a few feet to his right, his expression grim; his right hand hung a few inches from his sidearm, fingers splayed.

  Nick didn’t move or speak. Both men’s body language suggested a confrontation, and it wasn’t entirely unexpected, in view of what Willis had said the day before. Nick waited. It was Kline’s play to make, if that was his intention.

  “Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Kline?” Suzanne offered, as if to defuse the situation.

  “Not right now, sweetheart,” Kline boomed in his normal voice. “I need to have a word with the marshal.”

  The room was suddenly still. Other diners watched in frozen anticipation; Kristina moved closer to Nathan, and Nathan stared at Willis with hate in his eyes. Nick sat perfectly still, eyeing Willard Kline.

  Kline took two steps and stopped, still looking threatening.

  “I need to talk to you, Walker,” he said.

  Nick nodded. “Say your piece.’

  “You have one of my foremen locked up,” Kline said. “I need that man released. The weather is going to break in a few hours and we don’t have time to fuck around.”

  Nick remained on the stool, but leaned back, resting his elbows on the bar. His own hand was now only inches from his holstered pistol. His eyes shifted from Kline to Willis and back.

  “I’m sure your son explained the circumstances to you,” he said. “Gerald Graves is being held on multiple counts of two felony charges. He stays locked up until arraignment.”

  Kline scowled, his breath coming a little faster.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Walker. I said I need him. He won’t be going anywhere that you can’t find him.”

  Nick shook his head. “No can do.”

  Kline took another step, his face flushing red. “Exactly what are these charges?” he demanded. “I’ll pay the goddamned fine!”

  “Felony charges, Mr. Kline. If he’s convicted, we’re talking about serious prison time. A fine won’t do it.”

  “What are the charges?” Kline repeated.

  “Kidnapping and human trafficking. Didn’t Sheriff Blake tell you?”

  “What makes you think I’ve been talking to him?”

  Nick laughed. “From what I’ve seen so far, you wouldn’t have come to me unless you’d already tried to get Blake to release Graves.” He glanced at Willis. “Right?”

  Kline’s scowl deepened. “You’ve got Blake treed,” he said. “He’s afraid of your fucking shadow.”

  “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay afraid. He interfered with me once—if he does it again, I’ll not only have his badge, I’ll have him in custody.”

  Kline grimaced, then changed tactics. “I find it hard to believe that Gerald Graves is guilty of what you say. He’s worked here for twenty-five years. I’ve never known him to bother a woman, not even a serf. He’s a happily married man.”

  “He kidnaps girls and sells them for cash. Maybe you need to bump his wages.”

  “You have proof of this?”

  “I have evidence,” Nick said evenly. “And Graves admitted it.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Nick inclined his head. “Ask your son.”

  Kline spun on Willis, who looked suddenly startled. “What the hell is he talkin’ about!”

  Willis’s tongue snaked across his lips as he glanced at Nick and back at his father. “He—he said they were just serf girls. That’s all.”

  Kline looked thunderstruck. He glared at Willis for fifteen seconds, then turned back to Nick. For the first time, Nick saw doubt in his eyes.

  “So what do you say, Mr. Kline? It’s okay to kidnap girls and sell them if their skin isn’t white? Is that the way you take care of your people, like you were telling me the other night?”

  Kline’s flush deepened. He wasn’t accustomed to backtalk.

  “I didn’t say I condone any such thing!” he blustered. “But the reality is that things are different here on Sirius. Surely you’ve figured that out by now.”

  “I have figured that out, and I find it reprehensible. I know I can’t change the entire planet, but Kline Corners is still in Federation territory, and I will enforce Federation law here. I hope you and I have no misunderstanding about that.”

  Kline blinked rapidly, but didn’t reply. Willis, sensing his dad was weakening, took a step forward.

  “You’re walking on thin ice, Marshal! You can’t just come in here and turn everything upside down!”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed.

  “Did Ron
Gates try to turn everything upside down?” he asked. “Is that what happened?”

  “What?” Willis looked confused.

  “Somebody in this town,” Nick said carefully, “knows who killed Gates. Do you?”

  Willis glanced at his dad; Kline recovered from his momentary uncertainty.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about Gates!” he bellowed. “I need Gerald Graves released from jail, and I need him today! Millions of sirios worth of crops are on the line, and I don’t have time to screw around!”

  Nick stared at him for several seconds, then straightened up and placed his hands on his knees.

  “How long do you need him for?”

  “Three or four days. Once the weather hits, it’ll be too late.”

  Nick thought for a minute.

  “Mr. Kline…I understand your situation and I don’t want to cause you any unnecessary difficulty. I’m not unreasonable. If you agree to certain conditions, I’ll release Graves into your custody.”

  Kline’s expression relaxed a fraction, but his eyes remained wary. “What conditions?”

  “He returns to jail at night, or when he’s not working. He has no contact with any serf females of any age. He does not carry a weapon of any kind. You will be legally responsible for his actions at all times—if he skips out, or commits any further offenses, you will charged as a co-conspirator.”

  Kline blinked.

  “Agreed?” Nick asked.

  Kline nodded. “Okay.”

  “And one more thing. I need to talk to his son, Joel Graves.”

  “Joel! What the hell for?”

  “His name came up in my investigation. I need to talk to him.”

  Kline wavered.

  “Well…I’m not sure where he is.”

  “Willis knows where he is. I’d appreciate it if you’d contact Joel and have him come in. Save me the trouble of hunting him down.”

  Kline looked skeptical.

  “You do have radios, don’t you? Big operation like yours?”

  “Of course we have radios!”

  “Then it should be easy enough.”

  “When do you want to see him? I need him too. I need every man.”

  Nick glanced at Nathan, then back to Kline.

  “This morning would be nice. Have him come to my office. If I’m not there, have him come here to the Vega and wait. All I need is thirty minutes, and if I like what he has to say, I’m done with him.”

 

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