* * *
Clint and Jenny left her house together, started walking toward town.
“Who else is there to talk to?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’ve talked to everybody I need to. Maybe now I just need to wait and see what happens.”
“Is it really so important to you?” she asked. “The answer?”
“If there is an answer,” he said, “it’s important.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“Then I’ll have to accept that, I guess.”
* * *
They walked together as far as her café. The front door was open and there were already men seated inside.
“I have to get their orders,” she said. “Elroy won’t come out of the kitchen.”
“So he’d just leave them sitting there?”
“Yes,” she said, “until I come in.”
“And they’ll wait?”
She looked at him and smiled.
“You’ve had the food,” she said. “Would you wait?”
“Oh, I’d wait.”
She put her hand on his left arm.
“Please, be careful.”
“I will be,” he said. “It’s my nature.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s quite true,” she told him.
FORTY-TWO
Clint went back to his hotel.
He was about to go to his room when the desk clerk beckoned him over.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I thought you would like to know,” the young man said, “the sheriff was here early looking for you.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“That was not a warning,” the man said. “This is a warning. There were six other men here looking for you.”
“Six?”
“That’s right.”
“Led by that fella, Harvey?”
“No,” he said, “these were six fellas who look like they know how to use their guns.”
“And who was the leader?”
“He stayed outside. I don’t know who he is. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Clint said. “Thanks.”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “We try to help our guests.”
And keep them alive until they can pay, Clint thought as he went up the stairs.
* * *
Bodie walked into the café, which was busy, as usual.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Jenny said. “I think I’ve got a table for you.”
“Not lookin’ for a table, Jenny,” he said. “I’m lookin’ for Clint Adams. Do you know where he is?”
“As far as I know, his hotel.”
“No, I checked there earlier.”
“Well, then, you missed him,” she said. “He just went over there a little while ago.”
“Just went?”
She blushed a little as she said, “He didn’t spend the night in his room.”
“Oh…oh!”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, okay,” the lawman said. “I’ll go and check again, then.”
* * *
“Back to the hotel,” Delmond King told his men.
“We checked there already,” one of them pointed out.
“Well,” King said, “we haven’t seen him anywhere else in town, so he’s got to show up there eventually. We’ll go back there and wait.”
“Yer the boss.”
* * *
Bodie went back to Clint’s hotel and stopped at the front desk.
“Did he come back?”
“A few minutes ago,” the clerk said. “He’s upstairs.”
“Did you tell him I was lookin’ for him?”
“I did,” the clerk said. “I also told him about the other men.”
“What other men?”
“The ones that came after you, asking about him,” the clerk said.
“How many?”
“About six.”
“Was Harvey one of them?” He had let Harvey out of his cell the night before.
“No, not Harvey,” the clerk said.
“Did you recognize any of them?” Bodie asked.
“No,” the clerk said, “but I think they came from…that end of town.”
“Ah…” Bodie said. “Okay, thanks.”
He went up the stairs.
* * *
Delmond King and his men stopped across the street from the hotel.
“We’ll wait here,” he said. “Spread out so we’re not so obvious.”
“Spread out how far?” one of them asked.
“I don’t want us to look like a mob,” King said. “Just put some distance between each other. Watch the door, and watch me.”
“You know what the Gunsmith looks like?” one of them asked.
“I know,” King said. “I seen him once in Abilene. I’ll know him.”
That satisfied the men, and they began to spread out.
* * *
There was a knock on Clint’s door as he was strapping his gun back on. He opened the door, saw the big man standing in the hall.
“Sheriff,” he said. “What brings you here?”
“I’m here to warn you,” Bodie said. “Ray Winston is sending some men after you.”
“I know,” Clint said. “They’re outside my window, trying not to look like a mob.”
“You mind…”
“Come on in and take a look.”
Bodie entered and walked to the window.
“Goddamnit!” he said.
“What is it?”
“That’s Delmond King, and some of his bunch.”
“Delmond King,” Clint said. “I don’t know the name.”
“Well,” Bodie said, “if they kill you, folks will know his name.”
“That’s a big ‘if.’”
Bodie turned to face Clint.
“You ain’t goin’ out there, are you?”
“Like I have a choice—unless you want to go first. But it’s my guess they’d gun you down just as fast.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Tell me, is Winston acting for Mrs. Callahan?”
“She says no.”
“You believe her?”
“I do.”
“Then it’s my guess he’s out there someplace, too.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Well,” Clint said, “I suppose if I go out there and get gunned down, you can arrest whoever’s left. I mean, six to one isn’t exactly a fair fight.”
“How about six to two?” Bodie offered.
“Not much better,” Clint said. “But some.”
FORTY-THREE
Clint and Bodie went down to the lobby. The clerk, realizing something was going to happen, got down behind the desk.
“You can go out the back, you know,” Bodie sug-gested.
“Not an option, Sheriff,” Clint said. “Not for me. But you can do it.”
“No,” the lawman said, “I think I better just go out and stand with you. Maybe when they see the badge, one or two of his men will have second thoughts.”
“Maybe just enough second thoughts to slow them down,” Clint said. “I appreciate this, you know.”
“It’s my town,” Bodie said, “and I’ve been kinda lazy about doin’ my job lately.”
“Maybe that’s because everybody in town is so nice, huh?” Clint asked. “Sort of makes you think you’re not so necessary anymore.”
“Maybe,” Bodie said, “but I guess this will shake things up some.”
“It just might.”
“So we just wanna walk out together?”
“And see what happens.”
* * *
Angela Callahan came riding into town, saw that the street in front of the hotel was suspiciously empty. She was too late. Something was happening, and if she tried to stop it now, she might end up getting shot. She was just going to have to wait for the outcome.
She rode her horse over to a hitching post, dismounted, and tied him off.
“Mrs. Callahan,” a voice hissed.
She looked over and saw the young woman who ran the dress show, looking out her door.
“You better come in here and get off the street,” Claire said.
Angela nodded, ran over, slipped inside, and said, “Thank you. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Not exactly,” Claire said, “but it seems like it’s gonna be bad.”
They closed and locked the door, and then stood at the window together to watch.
* * *
“He’s comin’ out!” Delmond King called out.
“He’s got somebody with him!” one of the men yelled.
“Who is it?” someone else asked.
“Damn, it’s the sheriff.”
“Don’t matter,” King said. “He’s been sheriff too long anyway. Just get ready.”
* * *
Clint and Bodie stepped out onto the boardwalk and stopped. Clint was surprised the men didn’t immediately draw and begin to fire.
“Sheriff!” Delmond King yelled.
“Yeah, Delmond?”
“You sure you wanna be standin’ there?”
“You sure you wanna do this with the Gunsmith?” Bodie answered.
“Oh, I’m sure.”
“There’s somethin’ you should know, then.”
“What’s that?”
“Mrs. Callahan ain’t footin’ the bill for this.”
“What?”
“That’s right,” Bodie said. “If Winston told you that, he lied to you.”
“What’s he talkin’ about, boss?” one of the men asked.
“Don’t matter,” King said. “That’s the Gunsmith, boys. Come on, let’s get famous!”
They all drew…
* * *
Clint drew his gun cleanly and swiftly, put a bullet right into Delmond King’s chest, dead center. Bodie fired, and another man fell from the boardwalk to the dirt.
Clint moved to his left and fell into a crouch as he fired again.
Bodie did the same, stepping to his right…
* * *
Angela Callahan saw something and ran from the dress shop to her horse.
“Ma’am…” Claire shouted, but it did no good.
Angela grabbed her rifle and raced toward the action…
* * *
Delmond King’s men, seeing that he was dead, panicked and began to fire wildly. Facing the Gunsmith had that effect even on professional gunmen.
Clint got to his feet and stepped forward, fired two more times, spinning two men around and dumping them in the street.
Sheriff Bodie stood up, fired one last time to take care of the last man.
The street got quiet.
* * *
Clint looked at Bodie, saw that the big man had a crease on his shoulder. There was hardly any blood—yet anyway. He checked himself, saw that he had come out un-scathed.
“They’re all down,” Bodie said.
“Yeah,” Clint said, “but where’s Winston?”
* * *
From the roof of the building across from the hotel, Ray Winston sighted down the barrel of his gun at Clint Adams. King and his men had failed, but Adams was right out there in the street, as open as he could be.
Winston stood to make sure he could get a good shot, his finger on the trigger…
* * *
The sound of a rifle shot broke the silence in the street, and both Clint and Bodie looked toward it. Angela Callahan stood there in the street, holding her rifle to her shoulder—and then a body hit the street, having fallen from the roof.
Bodie walked over and took a look.
“Ray Winston,” he told Clint.
He stood up and they both looked over at Angela Callahan, who was walking toward them.
“I assume you just saved my life,” Clint said to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “He tried to kill you because of me. And my husband killed Tom Angel because of me. I’m sorry about that, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sheriff will tell you.”
She handed the lawman her rifle, then turned and walked away.
Clint looked at Bodie.
“Lemme get this street cleaned up,” Bodie said, “and we’ll talk.”
* * *
They went to Bodie’s office and he took a bottle of whiskey from his bottom drawer, poured some into two coffee mugs, and handed Clint one. Then he told Clint what Angela Callahan had told him.
“Let me get this straight,” Clint said when the lawman was finished. “She told her husband that Angel had raped her, but he hadn’t?”
“Right.”
“And that’s why he chased him a thousand miles?”
“Right again.”
“But he didn’t care about her.”
“Not as a woman,” Bodie said. “Just as his property. Nobody touched Big Ed Callahan’s property. But with him out of the way, all his property became hers.”
Clint sipped his whiskey and put the mug down on the desk.
“And Winston thought he’d be with her when Big Ed died?”
“That’s what she said.”
“What if Callahan had come back?”
“I guess they were both hoping Angel would somehow manage to kill him. But I don’t know the whole story.”
“Maybe we never will,” Clint said. “Do you believe her? That she accused Angel of rape? Or maybe they were just lovers, and she lied.”
“Whatever happened, Big Ed had one thing in mind when he left here.”
“So she’s sorry,” Clint said, “but she ends up sitting pretty with everything her husband owned.”
“Looks like it.”
Clint thought about it for a moment.
“Does this satisfy you?” Bodie asked.
“Satisfy? I killed men at the beginning of this, and now I did it again at the end, and for what?”
“Well,” Bodie said, “whatever Angela Callahan told her husband, when it comes right down to it, you killed them to stay alive.”
“Sheriff,” Clint said, pushing his empty mug toward the lawman, “I think that’s the way I’m going to have to look at it—and I’ll drink to that.”
Bodie nodded, and refilled the Gunsmith’s mug.
Watch for
TRAIL TO SHASTA
376th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove
Coming in April!
Thousand Mile Case (9781101619520) Page 11
