Righteous Kill

by G. Michael Hopf

  “You’re looking better than when we first met,” Anne said. She exhaled a large puff of smoke.

  “On account of you, thank you,” Billy said. “Say, I’m looking to borrow a horse. I need to—”

  Alice appeared around the corner, walking a horse. “He’s fed and I even brushed him.”

  “Thank you.” Billy steadily walked down the porch steps and met her halfway. Taking the reins, he leaned close and whispered, “You’ve been most kind. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay you back.”

  Whispering back, Alice said, “You can take me with you.”

  “You’re being foolish,” he replied. “I’ve already told you I’m not taking you with me.”

  “I need to do this, I must,” she said. “They killed my sister and I mean to exact revenge on all of them.”

  “Why are you whispering over there?” Anne cried out, sitting in a cloud of smoke.

  “We’re not, Grandma, you’re just deaf,” Alice hollered back. “Now, let me go with you,” she said, immediately putting her focus back on Billy.

  Looking over his shoulder and back, Billy said, “Suppose I said yes. How am I to explain taking you with me? Just tell me how I’m supposed to make that happen.”

  “I’ll leave a note upstairs, which my ma will find later.”

  “Not to your ma, although that’s a tricky situation to say the least. How am I going to explain to the people I answer to back in Idaho?”

  “Don’t tell them,” Alice said.

  “This is foolish,” Billy said. He removed his hat and wiped his brow. “Darn, it’s already so hot.”

  “Welcome to summer in Montana,” she quipped.

  “Why is it that everyone here is a pain? Can you explain that? First the sheriff—I never thought to ask, but I’m willing to wager he hasn’t sent men out to track Al, and now I have you, a pretty little thing with a sharp tongue and a gentle heart determined to get me into trouble and talking about revenge.”

  “You think I’m pretty?”

  Embarrassed, he answered, “Oh, I meant…”

  “It’s okay, I hear it a lot,” she teased.

  “I meant no disrespect,” he said, his tone showing how awkward he felt.

  “And I have a sharp tongue?”

  “I meant that you look like this and, well, you helped save me, but you stand there talking about avenging your sister, which can only mean killing them.”

  “Men who killed my sister and raped my ma and grandma!” she barked. This time her voice rose above a whisper.

  “What are you kids talking about over there?” Anne asked.

  “Just about what happened is all, Grandma,” Alice replied and continued with Billy. “Do you want to find this Al person?”

  Grinding his teeth, Billy said, “I’m going into town. If I need your help, I’ll ask.” He climbed atop his horse and gave her a quick glance. “Please don’t misconstrue that I’m not grateful; I just can’t be taking a young girl with me.”

  “Young girl? I’m old enough to handle myself,” Alice snapped.

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen, but I’ll be eighteen soon, and I mean soon.”

  “Does your mother or grandmother know you’re asking to ride with me?” Billy asked.

  “Of course not, and if they found out, I couldn’t care less, so you can’t use that against me,” she replied.

  Maggie emerged from the house, holding an empty whiskey bottle. Spotting Alice, she said, “There you are.”

  Seeing her mother put a rare smile on Alice’s face. She cut her eyes at Billy and said, “You’d best wait up.”

  “I need you to run into town for some supplies,” Maggie said.

  “I can do that, Ma,” Alice said.

  Billy shook his head, as he knew what was coming next.

  Alice jogged over to Maggie and said, “The marshal should escort me on account of what happened.”

  Maggie scrunched her face. She didn’t like the idea, but she couldn’t fathom living another hour without her booze. “Fine, but you stay an arm’s length away from him at all times, and take this.” She pulled out the pistol she’d let her borrow before and handed it to her.

  Alice took the pistol and shoved it into a pocket. “I’ll be fine. I don’t think he’s like most men.”

  “Don’t be fooled. Behind the handsome mug could lie a scoundrel,” Maggie said sternly. “Mr. Marshal, would you please escort my only living daughter into town and back?” she asked, stressing the only living daughter part of her question.

  Billy grunted. How could he say no? These were the people who had saved him, and he was going that way anyway. To say no would be impolite. “Yes, ma’am. It would be my honor.”

  Alice walked over to him, a skip in each step, and said, “Wait right here. Let me saddle up a horse.”

  GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  The ride into town wasn’t a pleasant one for Billy. Both his side and shoulder hurt badly, but listening to Alice tell stories of her life and youth did help ease the pain. For someone only seventeen, she seemed very mature, yet he could still hear the youthfulness in the way she described certain things. It was the sort of optimism you’d expect from someone her age. He recalled having it as well. They had something in common: both had lost their father, and both had dealt with the rape of their mother. Coincidentally he had been seventeen too when his mother had been raped. He understood her desire to seek revenge; hell, he’d actually gone and killed the men personally. Yet here he was telling her she had no right to do what he felt came naturally. Maybe he was wrong in denying her the chance, he thought. After all, his actions had led to him meeting Hemsworth and eventually to becoming a marshal.

  She guided him through Great Falls until they reached the sheriff’s office. Through the windows of the office, he could see Amherst. He was talking and moving his arms wildly. Was he talking to one of his deputies about the treatment he’d encountered back at the house? Was he about to walk into a hornet’s nest?

  “This is where I leave you, for now,” Alice said. “I’m going just down the street. It will only take me ten minutes at most.”

  Knowing he had to escort her back, he said, “I will be longer. Is there somewhere else you can go while I do what I need to do?”

  “No.”

  He thought for a second and said, “Then wait for me out here.”

  “I can do that,” she said and moved on down the street.

  He watched her trot off, not out of a sense of duty but because he wanted to watch her go.

  The door to the sheriff’s office opened, and heavy footfalls sounded, pulling Billy’s attention away from Alice.

  “Do United States Marshals babysit now?” Amherst mocked.

  Next to Amherst stood another man, a badge on his chest. He had to be a deputy of his.

  Tipping his hat, Billy said, “Sheriff, good to see you.”

  “I have to say I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” Amherst said.

  Billy dismounted and walked up to Amherst. He offered his hand and said, “Sheriff, what happened back at the house happened. I hope we’re able to work together for the common good of this county and state.”

  Amherst took Billy’s hand firmly in his and shook. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to see what I found at the ambush site?”

  “Yes, and I’d like to see the bodies,” Billy said.

  “Right this way,” Amherst said, pointing towards his office.

  Billy went in and looked around. On a table near the desk on the right sat an assortment of objects. He knew those had to be the items found because one of the pistols was Hemsworth’s. He took the pistol in his hand and ran his fingers over it.

  “That’s one of three I found there,” Amherst said.

  His deputy came in and took a seat at the desk on the left.

  “It belonged to Marshal Hemsworth. I’ll be taking it with me,” Billy said and slid it into his waistband.

  “Nothing really there
that tells me anything about those men,” Amherst said.

  Unfortunately, Amherst was correct.

  “Were the horses there?” Billy asked.

  “Two horses, one belonged to the marshal and the other to one of the men who ambushed you. As you can see, nothing of value to tell us who these men were,” Amherst said.

  “Have you looked into who Joseph Paul King is?” Billy asked as he fingered through the items and trinkets.

  Amherst gave his deputy a quick look and said, “I just found out. He’s a wanted man. There’s a warrant out for his arrest in three states for murder. He’s a hired gun, a contract killer. He goes by the name Killer Joe.”

  “That’s original,” Billy snarled. “Where’s he from?”

  “He’s originally from Canada,” Amherst replied.

  Billy stopped what he was doing and turned. “Canada?”

  “Yes.”

  “Al Cummins is from Canada too. Was there any identity on the other man?”

  “Nothing, wait, wait,” Amherst said. “In the tin on the table, there’s coins in it. I believe they’re Canadian coins.”

  Billy saw the brass tin, popped the top, and saw the assortment of coins. He fished through and found the Canadian coins Amherst had mentioned. “Could be coincidental, or it may not be.”

  “Marshal, are you thinking now that the attack against you wasn’t random but planned? Were they trying to rescue Al Cummins?” Amherst asked.

  “I’m thinking that’s a real possibility. Sheriff, where’s your telegraph office?” Billy asked.

  “Down the street on the left,” Amherst said.

  “I need to send an urgent telegram, but first I need to write something down,” Billy said.

  “On my desk there,” Amherst said, pointing to the desk on the right.

  Billy found a pencil and paper and jotted down an address. He handed it to Amherst and said, “Gather all of Marshal Hemsworth’s personal effects and ship them to this address. It’s his home in Idaho. And can you arrange for his body to be sent back too?”

  The door to the office opened and in came a young man; he wore a black visor and bow tie with a black vest over a crisp white long-sleeve shirt. On the brim of his nose hung a pair of wire-rim glasses. “Sheriff, I have an urgent telegram from the United States Attorney in Missoula.”

  Billy’s ears perked up, and he wondered what the US Attorney would want with Amherst.

  “Give it here, son,” Amherst said.

  The clerk stepped forward, his chest heaving, as he’d run from the telegraph office. “Here, sir, I came as soon as it came across with the header to get into your hands immediately.”

  Amherst took the telegram, unfolded it and read. The expression on his face went blank. He looked up to the clerk and said, “Thank you for bringing this over.” He dug into his pocket and found a coin; he tossed it to the clerk.

  Happy with his tip, the clerk exited the office.

  “What does the US Attorney in Missoula want?” Billy asked, sensing it had something to do with Al.

  “I sent a message to the marshals’ office in Missoula after I found Marshal Hemsworth’s body and heard about you. I thought it best to inform them of the situation. I planned on telling you but hadn’t had a chance.”

  “Okay,” Billy said, finding no fault in that practical decision.

  “However, I wasn’t expecting a message like this in return,” Amherst said, holding the telegram out for Billy to read.

  Stepping forward, Billy took the telegram and read. As his eyes passed over the words, his heart rate began to increase. When he was finished, he turned away from Amherst and stared outside. He spotted Alice pacing back and forth, no doubt waiting for him to emerge.

  “Marshal, it appears there’s nothing to be done,” Amherst said.

  “This is wrong. Something is very wrong,” Billy snapped.

  “I would agree, it all seems to be a bit odd, but you read it, as I did. We’re to stand down from pursuing Al Cummins.”

  “He’s a murdering scoundrel, and we can’t just let him get away,” Billy barked, spinning back around, his eyes wide with rage.

  “Those instructions aren’t just for you, they’re for me. We’re to do nothing about him and anyone who’s in his company, who we have to assume is Killer Joe,” Amherst said.

  “Stop reminding me what the damn telegram said. I read it too!”

  “Will you be going back to Idaho?” Amherst asked.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to go looking for Al Cummins and those other men,” Billy declared.

  “But the telegram ordered you back to Idaho, and to take Marshal Hemsworth’s body with you,” Amherst said.

  Billy crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor. “I don’t care what they say. Those men are a menace and need to be stopped. You don’t have to join me, I don’t care, just don’t get in my way.”

  “Marshal Connolly, are you sure that is wise?” Amherst asked.

  Billy picked up his hat from the desk and headed for the door. Before exiting, he turned and said, “Sheriff, please forward all of Marshal Hemsworth’s personal effects and his body to that address I gave you, and forward a message to his wife informing her to expect it.”

  “But you—”

  Interrupting him, Billy asked, “Sheriff, can you please do that for me?”

  Amherst nodded and said, “I can. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thank you,” Billy said. He opened the door and walked out.

  Hearing the door open and close, Alice spun around. “There you are. Are you done?”

  “I am,” Billy said, walking to his horse.

  Seeing that he looked agitated, she asked, “What’s happened?”

  “Your sheriff is worthless.”

  “I told you that in so many words.”

  “As are my superiors. Actually, my superiors could be more; they could be corrupt,” Billy said, unhitching his horse.

  “Tell me, what’s happened?”

  Billy gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to involve her, but he had no one to turn to. “I’ve been ordered back to Coeur d’Alene, and the sheriff has been told to stand down from pursuing Al or Killer Joe.”

  “I don’t understand,” Alice said, shocked by the news.

  “I don’t understand either,” Billy said. He mounted the horse and waited for her.

  She got atop her horse and asked, “What will you do?”

  “They’ve left me no choice but to disobey their orders. Those men killed my friend and your sister, as well as committed other unspeakable acts, and it appears they’re aligned with Al. I cannot in good conscience turn and run knowing that those men are out there. I need to hunt them down and give them the justice that is sorely lacking.”

  “Can I come with you?” she asked.

  “Sheriff, Sheriff, help,” a boy hollered, running up to Billy.

  Looking down, Billy could see the fear in the boy’s face. “What is it?”

  “My family, they’ve been murdered, and my little brother, he’s been taken prisoner,” the boy said, out of breath.

  Billy looked towards the sheriff’s office, debating if he should tell Amherst, then decided against it. There was something about Amherst he didn’t trust. He gave in too easily, he had murderers and cutthroats in his county killing, but he would only do the bare minimum. Feeling that the boy had mistaken his badge for him being the sheriff, he wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. “Where did this happen?”

  “Just about six miles southwest of town, just off the road to Missoula. Come, please hurry,” the boy said.

  “It’s them, isn’t it?” Alice asked.

  “I think there’s a good chance,” Billy said. “You said you know this area like the back of your hand.”

  “I do,” Alice said.

  “Good, then you’re coming with me, but only to help if I need it. You’re to stay behind if things go sideways,” Billy said.

  Alice thought abo
ut protesting, but this was her opening and she was going to take it. “Okay.”

  Looking back to the boy, Billy said, “What’s your name?”

  “Clive,” the boy answered.

  Billy offered his hand and said, “Clive, hop on. Let’s go save your brother.”

  SIX MILES SOUTHWEST OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  Clive pointed down the road and said, “I live in the cabin just off the road on the right about a quarter mile, Sheriff.”

  “I think I should tell you I’m not the sheriff, but I am a United States Marshal,” Billy confessed.

  “That’s about the same, isn’t it?” Clive asked, confused about the distinction.

  “We’re both lawmen, but as far as me being the same as your sheriff, I’d say we’re quite different,” Billy said.

  “What are you going to do?” Alice asked.

  “Clive, what’s the layout of your land? How does the cabin sit, and is there a good place to hide and watch?” Billy asked.

  “Yes, go around and come in from the back. There’s only a single window, so you can walk up to the cabin unseen if you come up on the right side of it. There’s a trail not far off this way, just take it west, and you’ll end up there,” Clive said, pointing into the forest to his right.

  “How many men did you see?” Billy asked.

  “Two, I think,” Clive answered.

  “I want you two to hide off the road here in the trees. I’m going to head down and check out the cabin,” Billy said, dismounting. He paused a moment once he put his feet on the ground, as the pain from his wound reminded him it was there. He pulled his Winchester rifle from its scabbard and handed the reins to Clive.

  “I can help,” Alice said.

  “You can help by keeping him safe,” Billy said.

  Alice grunted her displeasure.

  Billy looked at the area and felt a sense of déjà vu. “This looks familiar. I believe we were ambushed not too far down the road. I rode past here on my way to your house.” He looked back over his shoulder in the direction they’d just come and said, “The fork to the right leads to your house, correct?”

  “Yes,” Alice said.

  “I wonder why they didn’t go far. Maybe they’re wounded,” Billy mused.