RETURN TO VENGEANCE CREEK
THE SONS OF DANIEL SHAYE
RETURN TO VENGEANCE CREEK
ROBERT J. RANDISI
FIVE STAR
A part of Gale, a Cengage Company
Copyright © 2018 by Robert J. Randisi
Five Star™ Publishing, a part of Gale, a Cengage Company
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Names: Randisi, Robert J., author.
Title: Return to Vengeance Creek / by Robert J. Randisi.
Description: First edition. | Farmington Hills, Mich. : Five Star, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning, [2018] | Series: The sons of Daniel Shaye ; 4 | Identifiers: LCCN 2017055250 (print) | LCCN 2017057588 (ebook) | ISBN 9781432833978 (ebook) | ISBN 9781432836931 (ebook) | ISBN 9781432834029 (hardcover)
eISBN-13: 978-1-4328-3397-8 eISBN-10: 1-43283397-9
Subjects: | BISAC: FICTION / Action & Adventure. | FICTION / Westerns. | GSAFD: Western stories. | Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3568.A53 (ebook) | LCC PS3568.A53 R48 2018 (print) | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017055250
First Edition. First Printing: June 2018
This title is available as an e-book.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4328-3397-8 ISBN-10: 1-43283397-9
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Printed in the United States of America
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RETURN TO VENGEANCE CREEK
PROLOGUE
Daniel Shaye reined his horse in just outside the town of Vengeance Creek, Arizona. It was April, but judging by the heat, it could have been August. The town had grown by leaps and bounds since Daniel and his sons were last there. They could see the newest buildings in amongst the more weathered ones, and no doubt there were people in the same conditions.
James and Thomas, Daniel’s sons, followed suit, then moved up on either side of him. They had been riding for several days, were ready for hotel beds, baths and café food, not to mention cold beer. But they were also there for a much more important reason.
“You think they’ll take us back, Pa?” Thomas asked.
“From what I’ve heard, they ain’t had competent law enforcement here since we left. They’ll take us back, all right.” Daniel looked at his sons in turn, older Thomas, and then James. “What you boys have to tell me is whether or not you want to be my deputies again.”
Now the brothers exchanged a glance, and then Thomas nodded, understanding what had just passed between them.
“Pa, we’ll always wanna be your deputies,” he told his father. “Ain’t that exactly what you raised us for?”
“No, not exactly,” Daniel Shaye said. “Your mother would turn over in her grave if that was the case, but it does seem to be turning out that way, doesn’t it?”
“We’re the Shayes, Pa,” James said. “Enforcin’ the law is what we do.”
“All right, then,” Daniel Shaye said, picking up his reins. “Let’s get our asses down there and start doin’ it!”
ONE
Three months later . . .
Thomas Shaye stood up from the table at the Carver House Café, having just finished a hearty meal. The waitress, a girl named Katrina, came out of the kitchen carrying a tray covered with a red-and-white checkered napkin.
“Here’s the food for your prisoners, Tom,” she said. “Fried chicken today.”
He smiled and accepted the tray from her. “We’re not gonna be able to get them to leave. Thanks, Katrina.”
“Are you going to the barn dance at the end of the week?” she asked. She was a pretty girl, who had been flirting with him since he and his father and brother had become the law in Vengeance Creek. “I need a partner.”
“I’ll have to see if I’m gonna be off duty or not,” he said. “And I’m afraid I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Well,” she said, folding her arms, “we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”
He returned her smile and left the café.
James Shaye checked the clock on the wall. His brother should be relieving him in five minutes. One thing he could count on with Thomas was that he was always on time. He got that from their late mother. James was more like their father. Daniel Shaye was always ten minutes late, no matter where he was going. But despite that one fault, he was a great lawman.
When they had returned to Vengeance Creek three months earlier, Dan Shaye had presented the mayor and town council with the prospect of once again having himself serve as the local sheriff, and his sons as deputies. It had not taken the mayor long to decide.
They had also gotten themselves a more substantial jail. The adobe building was not brand new, but it had previously been used for storage. Daniel Shaye spotted it and knew that—with the inside reinforced and equipped with a cell block—it would make a perfect jailhouse. Also, it wasn’t located dead in the center of town like many sheriffs’ offices were, but at a far end and almost outside the town limits.
When the door opened, James saw his brother enter carrying the tray of food and checked the clock.
“Right on time, big brother,” he said.
“Our prisoners hungry?”
“Never mind them,” James said, “I’m stayin’ here.”
“Well, little brother, go and get yourself some supper and I’ll feed our guests.”
James stood up, grabbed his hat from a peg on the wall.
“You see that waitress again?”
“What waitress?” Thomas asked.
“Kathy. The one who’s been after you since we got back to town.”
“James,” Thomas said, “I keep tellin’ you we came back here to be the law, not to find ourselves sweethearts or wives.”
“Hey,” James said, “I ain’t lookin’ for a wife neither, but a girlfriend or two never hurt nobody.”
“Yeah, you tell Pa that,” Thomas said, hanging his hat on the vacated peg.
“Where is Pa, anyway?” James asked.
“He said he was havin’ supper with the mayor.”
“The mayor?” James asked. “Don’t tell me Pa’s interested in politics.”
“You know Pa don’t wanna do anythin’ but wear a badge,” Thomas said, removing the napkin from the top of the tray, revealing two plates of fried chicken. “Naw, he said the mayor had somethin’ he wanted to talk about.”
“You know,” James said, “Mayor Snow was smart enough to hire us back. But I just don’t trust him. He’s too much of a politician, talkin’ outta both sides of his mouth the way he does.”
“I know what you mean,” Thomas said. He retrieved the keys to the cells from another wall peg.
“He’s been givin’ in to Pa’s requests for three months—like t
his new jail—but maybe he’s about to cash in a chit.”
“We’ll find out when Pa comes back,” Thomas said. “Right now, I ain’t gonna worry about it. I gotta feed the prisoners, and you go get yourself some supper. I’ll see you later.”
“See ya later, big brother,” James said, and left.
TWO
The Rawhide Steak House was considered the best place in town to eat. Mayor Abner Snow had a regular table there, and most nights he ate alone. On this night, however, he had a guest for dinner.
Daniel Shaye’s salary as sheriff of Vengeance Creek did not allow him to eat in the town’s best restaurants very often. Of course, he could have accepted free meals when they were offered, but he refused. He and his boys paid their own ways, were never beholden to anyone, and there were plenty of affordable places in town for them to eat.
Even tonight, however, he did not consider this one of those “free meals.” This was a supper with a man who was his boss. And why not let the boss pick up the tab?
“How’s your steak, Dan?” Mayor Snow asked. He was a large man in his fifties who indulged most of his appetites on a daily basis.
“It’s perfect, Mayor,” Shaye said.
“You should eat here more often,” Snow said, then raised one hand to ward off Shaye’s protest. “I know, I know, you pay your own way. Maybe I can arrange a raise with the town council.”
“That’d be real fine, Mayor,” Shaye said, “only I’d never be able to accept unless it included my boys.”
“Understood, Dan,” Snow said, picking up his wine glass. “Understood.”
Shaye picked up his beer mug and drank from it, then set it down and went back to work on his thick steak.
“You’re probably wondering why I invited you here,” Snow said.
“I figured you’d get to it, eventually.”
“I took my office just a week after you and your boys left Vengeance Creek . . . the first time.”
“Mayor, you know we had to—”
The Mayor waved his hands, cutting off Shaye’s protests.
“I understand why you left,” Snow said, “and I was happy to rehire you when you came back. There’s no problem with any of that.”
“Fine,” Shaye said, “then keep talkin’.”
The mayor took another swallow of wine. It was his second glass, and he held it up for the waiter to refill a third time.
“More beer, sir?” the waiter asked Shaye.
“No, thank you.” Shaye also had a glass of water, which he’d make do. While he had his badge on, he considered himself on duty. And that was all the time.
The waiter left; the mayor sipped.
“Mayor,” Shaye said, “I think you should get to the point before you finish your third glass of wine.”
“Oh,” Snow said, “uh, yes, of course.” He put the glass down. “Ten years ago I was a prosecutor in St. Louis. I spent three years putting men away.”
“I think I see where this is going,” Shaye said, “but continue.”
“I prosecuted a man named Cole Doucette.”
“Doucette?” Shaye said, frowning. “I know of a family named Doucette. Hard types. Lawbreakers.”
“That’s right,” Snow said. “There was a father, and uncles, brothers and cousins. Cole’s the last one, and he promised he would get me for putting him away.”
“That was ten years ago?”
“That’s right.”
“And have they ever tried?”
“Not once.”
“But you’re thinkin’ about them now.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The mayor reached for his glass nervously, then stopped himself and snatched his hand back. Instead, he took out a white handkerchief and mopped the copious perspiration from his face.
“I got Cole Doucette fifteen years inside,” he explained. “It was far less than he deserved.”
“And?”
The mayor tightened his lips and said, “He’s getting out next week.”
“What was he put in for?”
“Manslaughter.”
“Why’s he getting out early?”
The mayor laughed without humor and said, “Good behavior. Can you believe that?”
Shaye studied the mayor’s face, then picked up the remainder of his beer and said to Snow, “Have a drink, Mister Mayor.”
THREE
Thomas carried the tray of food into the cell block, the keys dangling from one hand.
“Supper, boys!” he announced.
The two prisoners stirred. One had been lying on his back with his arms over his eyes, the other standing at the window, staring out at nothing.
Aaron Boyd rose from the cot and shuffled to the front of the cell to accept his plate through a slot in the door. The skinny nineteen-year-old was still somewhat fuzzy from his drinking the night before, when he had started shooting out some of the crystal lights in the Renegade Saloon & Gambling Hall.
“I’ll bring some coffee in a minute,” Thomas promised.
“My head still hurts,” Boyd complained, sitting on his cot. “You didn’t hafta hit me in the head, Deputy.”
“It was either that or shoot you, Aaron,” Thomas said. “Which one would you have voted for?”
Boyd grumbled and bit into a chicken leg.
“What about it, Fleming?” Thomas said. “You want to eat?”
Harry Fleming turned and looked at Thomas. He was a hard-looking twenty-five-year-old who could have passed for forty if he wanted to claim it. He had a sad, sad face.
“I’ll take it, Deputy,” he said. “I might as well eat while I’m waitin’ for my brother. No point in bein’ weak from hunger and makin’ him have to carry me out—that is, after he kills you.”
He walked to the door and accepted the plate with a grin.
“You’d be smart to give your dad that badge and leave town.”
“The judge’ll be back in two days, Fleming,” Thomas said. “Then you’ll be out of here and on your way to a federal prison. Murder’s like that, you know.”
“He’s a murderer, and all I did was shoot out a few lights,” Boyd complained, “and I gotta be in the cell next to him?”
“Shut yer mouth, kid,” Fleming said, “or when my brother comes I’ll have him kill you, too.”
“Who’s this brother yer always talkin’ about?” Boyd asked.
Fleming didn’t answer. He had a mouth full of chicken.
“Who is he?” Boyd asked Thomas. “His brother?”
“Fancies himself a gunfighter,” Thomas said.
“Ha,” Fleming said. “Red Fleming is a gunfighter. He’s the fastest gun around.”
“There ain’t no more gunfighters, Fleming,” Thomas said. “Those days are long gone.”
“Wait a minute,” Boyd said, licking his fingers. “Red Fleming. I’ve heard that name.”
“See?” Fleming said. “He’s heard of my brother. Everybody has. He’s killed ten men.”
“Your little brother, right?” Thomas said.
“He’s thirty-five,” Fleming said.
“And he’s out there while you’re in jail?” Boyd asked. “Sounds like he’s the one with the talent.”
“Yeah, well, we’re a team.”
“He’s the fast gun,” Thomas said, “and what’re you?”
“Me,” Fleming said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, “I’m the brains.”
“Oh, right,” Thomas said. “Why didn’t I guess that? Call me when you guys finish eating.”
He left the cell block.
Boyd looked at Fleming.
“My brother’s gonna kill ’im,” Fleming said. “Them Shayes, they got a reputation—especially the old man.”
“So why’s he gonna kill the deputy?” Boyd asked. “Why not the sheriff?”
“The deputy’s the one who put me in here,” Fleming said. “He’s the one’s gonna pay.”
“And then the sheriff and his other son will come a
fter you and your brother.”
“I don’t care,” Fleming said. “Red will kill them, too. And then we’ll have a huge reputation.”
“You?” Boyd asked. “You mean your brother will.”
“Like I said,” Fleming replied, “we’re a team.”
Boyd shook his head and went back to his dinner.
“So what do you want me to do, Mayor?” Dan Shaye asked over coffee and pie. “Track him down? Once he’s out, he’s a free man. He hasn’t done anythin’. And I can’t just leave town—”
“No, no,” Mayor Snow said. “I just wanted to let you know that Cole Doucette and his family might be coming here looking for me sometime in the future.”
“Hopefully,” Shaye said, “it’ll be in the far future.”
“Right, right,” Snow said. “Maybe they won’t ever come. Maybe Doucette has even forgotten about me after all these years.”
“Yeah,” Shaye said, “maybe.” He knew how families were. They never forgot a slight, or a debt. He knew that much from experience. And western families, they were the worst. And Cole, being the last, would feel duty bound to keep a promise like that.
Daniel Shaye had put many men in jail over the years, and he knew that none of them had forgotten about him, at all. When someone takes away years of your life, you tend to remember that person—but he didn’t bother telling the mayor that.
The mayor took care of the bill and the two men walked outside.
“How are you and your boys getting on?” Snow asked. “With the job, I mean.”
“No problem,” Shaye said. “We’ve done this before. Thomas takes to it naturally. He’s like me.”
“And James?”
“I still think James should go back East to school,” Shaye said. “Maybe become a lawyer.” He realized that would only make the mayor think about what they’d been discussing, so he quickly added, “Or a doctor, maybe. He’s gentler, like his Ma. Looks more like her, too.”
“He is a bright lad,” Snow said. “Anybody can see that.”
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