Pray for the Dead

by Dusty Richards

  There was one more part to it, though. He would need real evidence to prove that Crawford was involved in the evildoings. Something that would hold up in court. There were no living witnesses to the murder on the trail. Only the stolen gold bars and cash could tie him to the crime. If they didn’t have that, a good lawyer could get him off.

  Would Crawford keep the gold bars on the ranch? Hidden? That was a risk.

  Could he maybe trick him into showing someone the bars? He sighed. How in the hell could he do that? There had to be some way. It would be tragic to arrest the man and not be able to convict him of the crimes. Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. But evidence was what he needed.

  After supper, he spoke to Jesus about Crawford and his concern that they still had no evidence clearly tying him to the crime.

  Jesus was thoughtful. “I don’t know a way but to testify as to what the dead man told us when we quizzed him.”

  “If the gold bars are there we have him, but a good lawyer will get him off otherwise.”

  “That don’t sound right, boss. But he will.”

  “I’m going to think on it before I send the Force in to get them.”

  “As if you don’t have enough on your mind already.”

  “Hell, Jesus, it’s just part of the job.”

  “Well, I am going to bed.” Jesus stood up and stretched. “Anita will come home tomorrow or your wife said I can go get her if I want to.”

  “Do that. I won’t leave without you. Tell her I said hello.”

  “I will. Spud’s down at the bunkhouse if you need him.”

  Chet went upstairs. His wife sat at her mirror brushing her hair. “Are you ready to sleep?”

  “I don’t know about sleep, but I’m sure ready to hold you. I’ve missed you, Liz.”

  “Still upset about Reg’s death, aren’t you?”

  Chet shook his head. “I just can’t figure it out. What a damn waste.”

  “I think he had too much on his mind,” Liz said, rising from the vanity. “It began with his first wife’s death. They said he wandered around for a long time before he came here. Then he met Lucy and started turning things around. But the horse wreck shattered his ability to shake off his loss of being invincible—that is the word, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was not himself, in pain all the time, but he couldn’t do what he wanted to do and couldn’t see himself ever doing it again.”

  “You mean he felt hopeless that he’d never be the same again?”

  “That’s right.” She hugged him tightly. “And don’t you ever consider such a thing.”

  “I won’t.” Chet shook his head wearily. “A thought like that never entered my mind.”

  “I think Reg was a person who was very critical of himself.”

  “Yes, he was.” He sighed. “Let’s go to bed. We won’t ever solve it, but thank you. You’ve really thought about all the aspects, and what you said seems to settle me a little.”

  “I was bored without you here to entertain me,” she said. “Might I have gone too far?”

  “No. I count on your wisdom. I don’t ever question your judgment; you’re about the smartest person I know. On top of that, I love you.”

  “Good.”

  Thank you, Lord.

  CHAPTER 25

  He had breakfast with Jesus early the next morning before the young tracker rode out to get Anita. After he was gone, Chet settled down to read the latest issue of the Miner when his wife joined him.

  “You make any decisions?” she asked.

  “Not one different than last night. I wonder about Cole, but have to realize he couldn’t make decisions like I did over east.”

  “Will you build another house up there at the Peaks before you get it done?”

  “Cole and Valerie will need one if they’re up there for a while.”

  “A house like you built Susie?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Same plan as when we built Tom’s.”

  “And Millie’s and Lucy’s.” She nodded. “We should go up there and plan it.”

  “Good idea, darling. But first I’m considering going down there and arresting that outlaw Crawford as soon as Cole gets back here.” Then he explained his concern to her about the lack of evidence.

  Liz listened intently, but had no fresh outlook on how to trap Crawford into showing them the gold bars.

  To take his mind off the problem, Chet suggested they work on bringing the ranch books up to date. A few hours later, he sat back in his chair, satisfied that their financial situation looked as good as ever.

  He asked Liz, “Do you think Bo Evans could convince him he wanted to buy the gold bars? Few people know him. But he sure looks the part of a businessman.”

  “He might look even better with Ramon and Bennie along to make him look like the gringo out of Mexico seeking to buy cheap stolen gold bars.”

  “What will his new wife think about it?” Chet asked.

  “You’ll be close by.”

  “I don’t want Bo shot.” He tossed down his pencil. “No, I need to trick Crawford into believing he can buy his way out and show me the gold.”

  “When?”

  “When Cole gets back. He and Jesus are the only ones I trust to walk into that kind of fight with.”

  “Meanwhile you walk the floor.” She jumped up and kissed him. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you.” But he’d damn sure be walking that floor some more.

  Three days later, Cole finally showed up, grinning from ear to ear.

  He’d found the four stops they needed. Chet could tell by the smile alone.

  Chet came off the porch and wrapped him in a bear hug. “You found yours?”

  “Hell, yes, I did.” Cole laughed. “Was there ever any doubt? You must have beat me, Old Man!”

  “Old Man nothing! We’ve won this war, partner. I’m going to have Jesus drive you home. In thirty hours we’re headed down south to arrest Brad Crawford. The buckboard will come get you tomorrow night and we’ll talk about it all on the way.”

  Cole was still grinning. “We really did something, huh?”

  “Damn right, we did,” Chet said, slapping him on the shoulder. “We got lots to do, but I want that killer Crawford in jail first. That whore he’s with can rot with him, too, far as I’m concerned.”

  “You know where they’re at?”

  “Unless they rode off, yes, I’ve got a good idea.”

  “I’m ready. I’d like to have closure on that deal, too. Tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night,” he affirmed. “We take the stage.”

  Jesus drove up with the buckboard and Cole climbed on. “My bedroll?”

  Chet waved him off. “We’ll pack it for you, saddle and all. Go and rest. Give Val and my boy my love.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Jesus drove off.

  “You need a horse holder?” someone asked from behind him.

  He turned to find Elizabeth looking down at him from the porch. He pulled her down and hugged her tight. “Hell, yes.”

  He wired his crew at Tubac, setting everything in motion. One of the group was to secretly talk to his witness in St. David, Norma. The other was to have five horses ready to ride when they got there on Wednesday to arrest Crawford.

  Lord, let him be there . . .

  God, how he hated unfinished business.

  CHAPTER 26

  Wrapped in blankets once again, he and his four partners piled into the coach. Cole was fresh from his short reunion with Valerie, Jesus from his with Anita. Then there was Spud, who was about to bust his buttons getting to go along with the big men again. Elizabeth was tucked comfortably in the crook of Chet’s arm.

  The Black Canyon Stage rolled south, and with every mile it traveled, Chet felt more at peace. For the first time since they’d met the dead end at Rye, he felt like they were on their way to wrapping up this business with the stage robbery. It had been like a thorn in his brain since the m
oment they’d come home empty-handed.

  Well they wouldn’t be empty-handed much longer.

  The cool, dark night enveloped them, rocking them gently into slumber. As the coach swept off the juniper-pinion slopes into the saguaro-clad mountains, the dawn arrived pink and cheery, and the aroma of creosote filled the warmer air. They soon arrived at Hayden’s Ferry, where they unloaded to wait for the next southbound stage.

  “I’ve sure had better places to sleep, haven’t you, Spud?” Liz asked their newest companion as they sat down to breakfast.

  “Oh, Mrs. Byrnes,” the young man gushed. “I am just so glad to be with y’all, I can’t complain about one little thing.”

  “You’re too easy pleased,” Chet said, and sipped his coffee.

  “I am that, sir,” Spud said with a smile. “I sure am.”

  Back on the stage, they rocked out for Papago Wells and Tucson. Reaching there by nightfall, they stored their saddles and gear at the stage office, went for supper, and checked into a hotel. Exhausted already, they were told the stage for Benson left at six a.m. Sticky-eyed and travel-weary, they were there nonetheless and climbed on board. The coach reached the small village on the San Pedro River at noon. Shawn, Roamer, and the horses were there waiting for them, just like Chet had ordered.

  “Howdy, boss,” Shawn greeted them. “Two visits in a month. Feels like things are heating up.”

  “Gotta keep my eye on you young bucks,” Chet replied, shaking his deputy’s hand. “Make sure you’re not making me look bad.”

  Hugs were exchanged all around before they mounted up and rode south for the Mormon community of St. David. He asked Shawn if their man was still there.

  “I spoke to the nice lady you sent me to see yesterday. She told me both of them were still there.”

  “She expects some of the reward money,” Chet explained. “And we’ll sure take care of her if she’s right.”

  “Too right,” Roamer said disgustedly. “We damn sure couldn’t have found him without her. His cronies in Tombstone told us they hadn’t seen him in six months. And those guys who were on the stage during the robbery? They’ve been close to their import business the whole time, never once went anywhere out of the ordinary. We have a man keeping an eye on them, too. As for the woman, well, I guess she’s been hiding down here with Crawford the whole time.”

  “Well, keep your fingers crossed. It ain’t over yet. We still need some of that loot to hang the crime on them.”

  They rode quietly through the community of small irrigated farms, not even looking at her place when they passed it. On the dusty road, they left town headed east. Shawn pointed to the cottonwoods.

  “That house is in the middle of them.”

  “Get your guns out and keep sharp,” Chet ordered. “This man will kill you, make no mistake. I’d like him alive, but it isn’t necessary. Don’t anyone get shot up.” He jerked his Winchester out of the scabbard. “Liz, stay out here until we get them.”

  With a pained look, she reined her horse up and dismounted. With everyone else armed, they charged up the lane to the stucco house. A woman inside screamed. Cole dismounted in a spray of dust and took the open front door in a rush. Chet’s horse carried him around behind the house, where he saw a man clear the wooden rail fence, running for his life. He reined the horse down and fired his rifle in the air.

  “Stop or die, Crawford,” he yelled.

  The fleeing man came to a shaky halt and raised his hands over his head in surrender. While Chet covered him with his rifle, Jesus put the cuffs on him. He frisked the man, then shoved him around toward the front of the house.

  “Brad Crawford?”

  The man shook his head. “I’m not him.”

  “Yeah? Well you’ll do for him.” Chet dismounted and handed Spud his rifle. “We finally meet.”

  Cole had the woman of the house by the neck, forcing her outside through the front door. She wasn’t coming easy, either. She looked mad as a badger, her face was red as her hair. But even in her roughed-up condition, Chet saw why the guy at the bank told her everything about the shipment.

  Liz arrived and reined up her horse. “That was it?”

  He about laughed. “These are the ones involved in the stage robbery.”

  “Lady,” Cole told the woman, “if you sit down and be quiet, we won’t put you in irons. You make a break, though, all bets are off.”

  Dismounted, Chet marched up to Crawford and got in his face. “Where are the gold bars?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know about any gold bars,” Crawford said.

  “Oh, you know alright. And your memory will get better.”

  “Liz,” Cole said. “Will you make certain this lady doesn’t get up and run?”

  “She won’t. She won’t like those irons on her.”

  “She better not. But we need to find that gold.”

  Crawford chuckled. “You won’t find any here.”

  They looked; they searched. They pulled up boards and tore down sheds. The crew finally came out and shook their heads.

  Chet’d had enough. “Take him down to the stock tank and hold him under the water until his mind clears up.”

  Ten minutes later, Spud came back to Chet, clothes dripping. “It’s buried in the yard.”

  “Get him a shovel and have him dig it up.”

  “He may have a hard time with that. He’s gasping for breath and puking.”

  Chet shrugged. “We can wait. He planted it, he can dig it up.”

  Jesus and Cole drug Crawford back up to the yard. He was struggling, and when they set him on his knees he fell flat on his face.

  “Take the cuffs off him and give him the shovel.” Chet bent over and collared him up. “You said the gold is here. Dig it up, or you’ll be taken back and drowned this time.”

  Crawford nodded his understanding and began pecking at the ground with the shovel. His efforts were worthless. Chet kicked him in the ass, knocking him flat again. “You better stand up and go to digging, you son of a bitch. I think you just might want to drown in that tank.”

  Dirt began to fly. Then the shovel finally struck metal.

  Chet called for a halt. “Drag his sorry hide out of there. Spud, take the shovel and get the gold out of that hole.”

  He about laughed as Crawford sprawled on the ground still coughing and choking. On his knees, Jesus began stacking the gleaming bricks Spud handed up to him.

  Exactly half of the ones that were stolen, by Chet’s count.

  He fixed the woman with a stern gaze. “Where’s your part of the money?” he demanded.

  Crawford shook his head. “Go get it.” He sighed.

  She glared at her partner in crime. “You dumb bastard.”

  “Cole, Liz, go with her.”

  Liz followed them inside. Shortly, Ruth came back out, covered in flour. Cole and Liz emerged behind her with four floury sacks.

  “They were in the bottom of that barrel,” Cole said in disgust, brushing off his clothes. “We didn’t look hard enough during the search.”

  “Half of it?” Chet asked.

  The younger man shook his head. “This isn’t all of it.”

  Chet agreed and turned back to Crawford. “Why kill the men who helped you rob the stage?”

  “I didn’t need—” He had a coughing spell. “Them bastards.”

  “I figured that,” Chet said. “Do your partners have their share at the business?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You can tell me or else.”

  Crawford said, “We delivered it to them.”

  “Where’d they store it?”

  “In the warehouse, I guess. I’m not their mama.”

  “Brad Crawford, you are under arrest for the Black Canyon stage robbery. And so are you, lady. You’ll be housed in the Benson jail to await federal charges in Tucson. There was mail on that stage you robbed, and that makes it a federal offense.” He turned to his men. “Let’s go, boys. We have some more work
to do at dawn.”

  The gold and money was loaded on a buckboard. Roamer was to drive it into town and deposit it in the local bank for Wells Fargo to count and record. They put the two captured fugitives on horses, each handcuffed to their saddle, and hauled them into the Benson jailhouse. The town marshal who greeted them asked why they didn’t take them to Tombstone.

  “They can’t lock the doors down there,” Chet said, and stuffed a ten-dollar bill in the man’s shirt pocket. “They’ll be here when the marshals come for them, I trust.”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  “Thanks.”

  They grabbed some burritos from a street vendor and rode all night long for Tucson, eating in the saddle. They arrived road-weary and tired. When the first one of the perpetrators came to unlock the warehouse door after daylight, Shawn stuck a gun in his back and told him to get inside.

  The others with Chet came out of the shadows and joined him, careful not to make a scene.

  “What’s your name?” Chet asked the thief in the back office.

  “Who are you?”

  “Give us your name and then shut up.”

  “George Nelson.”

  “U.S. marshals. We arrested your partners in Saint David yesterday. We want you to get us the gold and money you have.”

  “What partners? What gold and money?”

  “You know what I mean. Or I can take you out back and put your head underwater until your memory recovers. I don’t want to do that, and have you choking and strangling like Brad Crawford did before he dug his part of it up. You aren’t as tough as he was, are you?”

  No answer.

  “Take him out and—”

  Nelson stopped them. “No, wait. I can show you where the gold and money is.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Chet said smugly.

  The door opened behind them. “Put your hands in the air and go through that door,” they heard Jesus order.

  Another man was shoved into the room.

  “Well, glad you could make the party,” Chet said. “Your partner was just about to show us where your share of the gold bars and money are hid.”