Return to Vengeance Creek

by Robert J. Randisi

  “You mean . . .” James said.

  “Señor?”

  “My brother wants to know if Max . . . took liberties with you and your sister.”

  “Señor?” She was still puzzled.

  “Did Max make you share his bed?” Thomas asked.

  “Oh, no, señor,” Elena said, “he was a terrible man, but he would not have done that.”

  “Why not?” James asked.

  “Maximilian was our papa.”

  “You mean . . . he made you treat him like a father?” James asked.

  “No, señor,” she said, “he was our father. I will go and get the cafe.”

  Elena ran into the kitchen.

  “Their father?” James asked. “Even if he was a mean man, they’re not all that upset about their father gettin’ killed.”

  “Don’t get involved, little brother,” Thomas said. “We have our own father to keep happy by bringin’ the Fleming boys in.”

  “Yeah,” James said, “we’re doin’ a great job of that, ain’t we?”

  “We’re still on their trail,” Thomas said, “and we’ve taken care of their men.” Thomas rolled some eggs into a tortilla and took a bite. “We’re makin’ progress.”

  James grabbed some food and did the same. The girls came out with coffee, and even more food.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Thomas said, “we’ve got enough here.”

  “Please, señores,” Isabella said, “eat as much as you like. I will make more.”

  “Isabella is a wonderful cook,” Elena said.

  “Yes, she is,” Thomas agreed.

  “She will make someone a wonderful esposa.”

  “Esposa?” James asked.

  “Si, señor,” Elena said. “Wife.”

  Isabella smiled, and then both sisters went back to the kitchen, leaving the brothers staring at each other.

  “We better eat quick and get out of here,” Thomas sad.

  “You said it!”

  They finished the food in record time and, with bulging bellies, went out to saddle their horses. The two girls came out and watched them.

  “Are you sure you can get those bodies buried?” Thomas asked. “We can do it before we leave.”

  “You and your brother have done enough, señor,” Elena said. “We know some men who will bury them for us.”

  “You can keep their horses and saddles,” James sad, “and any other possessions.”

  “And their money, señor?” Elena asked.

  “Yes,” Thomas said, “and their money.”

  The two girls waved happily as the brothers rode away from San Lupita.

  They picked up a trail just south of town, but neither brother was expert enough at tracking to know if it was left by the Fleming brothers. It was, however, fairly fresh and heading south.

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” Thomas said. “We can’t just ride aimlessly, so we might as well follow these tracks and see where they lead.”

  “Agreed,” James said. “How’s your side?”

  The girls had cleaned and rebandaged Thomas’ wound the night before.

  “It hurts, but it’s not bleedin’, right now,” Thomas said.

  “You probably shouldn’t even be on a horse yet, Thomas,” James said.

  “Well,” Thomas said, “I can’t exactly let you chase these two varmints down by yourself, James. Pa would never forgive me.”

  “And he’d never forgive me if I didn’t bring you back alive,” James pointed out.

  “Well, let’s just make him happy and bring the Flemings back.”

  “Alive?”

  Thomas looked off into the distance. “That’s gonna be up to them.”

  FIFTY-ONE

  Miles ahead, the Flemings rode side-by-side, having taken the two best horses their gang had.

  “You think those four were able to kill ’em?” Harry asked.

  “I doubt it,” Red said, “but they coulda got lucky.”

  “We shoulda stayed and helped.”

  “Not yet, Harry,” Red said. “We gotta pick the right place and time, and that little cantina in a little nothin’ town wasn’t it.”

  “You ain’t afraid, are you, Red?” Harry asked.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Them Shaye boys,” Harry said.

  As an answer Red lashed out and punched Harry in the side of the head. The blow knocked him off his horse, and he hit the ground with a solid thud.

  “What the hell?” Harry yelled.

  Harry’s horse kept moving, so it wasn’t between him and his brother, and Red was able to look down at him.

  “You oughtta know better than to ask me a question like that, Harry.”

  “Ya didn’t have to hit me!”

  “Yeah, I did,” Red said, and began to ride on, leaving Harry to get back to his feet, track down his horse, mount up and follow.

  Several hours later, Red and Harry Fleming spotted a dust cloud ahead of them.

  “What the hell,” Harry said. “They couldn’ta got ahead of us.”

  “There’s only two of them,” Red said. “They wouldn’t raise that much dust.”

  “Then who is it?”

  “Maybe federales,” Red said, “maybe bandidos.”

  “Jesus,” Harry said, “which ones would be worse?”

  “I guess we’re gonna find out,” Red said. “Make sure you let me do the talkin’ Harry, understand?”

  “I understand, Red,” Harry said. “Just don’t hit me again. My face and butt are still sore from the last time.”

  “Two things, Harry,” Red said. “Don’t say anythin’, and if you do, don’t say anythin’ stupid.”

  “I’ll let you do the talkin’, Red,” Harry said. “Don’t worry about that.”

  But Red was worried about that. Harry had a short temper, and it always got him in trouble, as evidenced by what had happened in Vengeance Creek.

  “If it’s federales,” Red said, “we could end up in jail.”

  “And if it’s bandidos?” Harry asked.

  “We could end up dead.”

  “Then don’t worry, Red,” Harry assured his brother, “I ain’t gonna say a word.”

  The brothers rode at a leisurely pace, and when the riders came over a hill they saw that it was a company of federales.

  “Red—” Harry said.

  “Stay calm,” Red said. “I’ve been down here before, remember? Just keep quiet.”

  Red reined his horse in and his brother followed his example. They sat there and waited for the Mexican police to reach them.

  The man at the head of the column of eight soldiers held his hand up and reined in his horse in front of Red and Harry Fleming. Red could tell from his insignia that he was a captain. He appeared to be in his early thirties, certainly too young for a higher rank, but Red said, “Good day, Colonel.”

  “It is Capitan,” the man said, “Capitan Enrique Domingo Salazar, of his Excellency Presidente Porfirio Diaz’s Federales.”

  “My mistake, Capitan.”

  “What are your names?”

  “I’m Red Fleming, and this is my brother, Harry.”

  “What are you gringos doing in Mexico?”

  “We’re on the run, Capitan.”

  “Red—” Harry said, but Red continued and cut his brother off.

  “We’ve got a couple of American lawmen on our trail.”

  The captain frowned. “Did they follow you into Mexico?”

  “They sure did,” Red said. “In fact, they’ve already killed four of our friends.”

  “Well,” Capitan Salazar said, “you and your brother are not wanted in Mexico, are you?”

  “I assure you we’re not, Capitan,” Red said. “We’re just here lookin’ for a little sanctuary.”

  “As long as you do not break our Mexican laws, you are welcome,” Salazar said, “but these American lawmen who followed you . . . who are they?”

  “They’re deputy sheriffs from Vengeance Creek,” Red said,
“the Shaye brothers from Vengeance Creek.”

  “They are not deputies here in Mexico,” Salazar said. “And we do not appreciate gringo lawmen bringing their badges into our country.”

  “Well,” Red said, “they’re just a few hours behind us. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble findin’ them.”

  “And find them we shall,” Capitan Salazar assured him.

  “Remember, break no laws in Mexico, señor.”

  “We won’t, Capitan,” Red Fleming said. “That’s a promise.”

  Salazar looked behind him, waved to his men, then rode around the two outlaw brothers, followed by the column, each member of which ignored them.

  “Jesus Christ,” Harry said, “why’d you tell him we were on the run?”

  “You heard him,” Red said. “As long as we don’t break the law in Mexico, we don’t have a problem. They hate it when lawmen from the United States come into their country without permission.”

  “Permission?”

  “Sure,” Red said, “some lawmen petition the federales for permission to come in and hunt.”

  “But the Shayes didn’t do that.”

  “I doubt they had time to,” Red said.

  “So they’re gonna be in trouble when those federales find them.”

  “They sure are,” Red said. “And we’ll be free and in the clear.”

  “So where are we goin’ now?” Harry asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Red said, “maybe we’ll just keep ridin’ until we get to Mexico City.”

  “You been there before?” Harry asked.

  “Nope,” Red said, “but I’ve heard a lot about it. I always wanted to have a look-see.”

  “How far is it?”

  “Pretty far,” Red said, “but we can take our time.” He looked behind them as the column of soldiers disappeared over a rise. “I think they’re gonna take care of our problem with the Shaye deputies.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  “Where do you think these tracks are headed?” James asked.

  “I don’t know, James,” Thomas said. “I ain’t never been down here. Pa’s been to Mexico, but he ain’t here. Now.”

  “I wonder where we’d get to if we just keep goin’ in this direction.”

  “Maybe Mexico City,” Thomas said.

  “You think the Flemings might go that far?”

  “Why not?” Thomas said. “They’re lookin’ for a place to hide out, ain’t they?”

  “What the heck is that?” James said, pointing.

  “It’s a cloud of dust,” Thomas said. “Somebody’s comin’ this way.”

  “You think they turned around?” James asked.

  “No,” Thomas said, “that’s too much dust for two men.”

  “Then . . . who?” James asked. “I hope it ain’t bandidos.”

  They had their badges in their pockets, so if it was bandits coming, they wouldn’t know they were lawmen. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to rob and maybe kill them.

  “We better get out of sight,” Thomas said.

  “But where?”

  They looked around. The ground around them was rolling with peaks and valleys, but they needed something high or deep enough to hide behind.

  “Let’s try over there,” Thomas suggested, pointing. “Looks like there’s a drop off.”

  They rode to where Thomas had been pointing and found what they needed.

  “Looks like a dry creek bed,” James said.

  “Deeper,” Thomas said, “maybe from a dried up stream or even river. But it’s what we need. Get off your horse.”

  They dismounted and led their horses by the reins down into the dry bed.

  “Keep ’em quiet,” Thomas told James.

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I wanna see who we’re hidin’ from.”

  Thomas climbed back up, but only far enough so he could peer over the edge. At that moment the riders came into view, and they were not bandits.

  They were federales!

  “Who is it?” James hissed.

  “Shhh.” Thomas slid back down. “It’s a company of federales,” he whispered.

  “Then why are we hidin’?” James asked. “They’re lawmen, and so are we.”

  “They’re lawmen, all right,” Thomas said, “but we ain’t, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Let’s keep quiet until they pass.”

  The brothers fell silent, listening to the sound of the horses riding by. Eventually, the hoofbeats faded away, and they relaxed a bit.

  “Pa says the Mexicans hate American lawmen,” Thomas said, “especially when they cross the border without permission.”

  “Like we did.”

  “Right.”

  “You think they saw the Flemings?”

  “I think they did,” Thomas said, as something occurred to him. “You know, they ain’t wanted down here, and they probably told the federales about us.”

  “So they could use the Mexican police to get rid of us!”

  Thomas nodded.

  “That’s a dirty trick,” James said.

  “And smart,” Thomas said, “real smart.”

  “Then it wasn’t Harry’s idea,” James said. “We had him in jail long enough to find out how dumb he was.”

  “That’s right,” Thomas said, “so Red’s the smart one.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Sure,” Thomas said, “the older brother is always the smart one.”

  He grabbed his horse’s reins and started walking it back up the slope.

  “Hey!” James yelled.

  FIFTY-THREE

  Dan Shaye turned the key in the cell door on the man named Nils, and now he had taken care of five of Doucette’s men. Nils had started trouble at the whorehouse, and Miss Lizzie, the Madam, had sent her Negro piano player to fetch Sheriff Shaye.

  “He got rough with one of my girls,” she told him, when he arrived. That was all he needed to haul the man’s ass off to jail.

  He came out of the cell block, hung the key on the wall peg, and sat behind his desk. That left Doucette with three men still walking around free: the two Shaye had met before—Hawko and Tayback—and the one called Vin.

  Hawko and Tayback were the men Mayor Snow had tried to saddle him with as temporary deputies. Turned out they were working for Doucette all along. It was a good thing Shaye had turned them down and kicked them out of town.

  Wait a minute . . .

  That was right. He kicked them out of town, and now they were back. He could toss them in jail for that, call it . . . trespassing. Couldn’t he?

  He figured before he did that, he’d better make sure he could make the charge stick—if it was a legal charge. Judge Fairly could tell him that.

  Shaye didn’t have much use for Judge Fairly. He was simply a friend and lackey of Mayor Snow’s, but he’d have the legal issues at his fingertips.

  Judge Fairly was in his office at the courthouse when Shaye arrived. His clerk told him that the sheriff needed to see him, and Fairly consented to an audience—reluctantly.

  “I have a lot of work, Shaye,” he said, gruffly. “What’s so important?”

  Fairly was in his late fifties, a man who kept himself neat and fit. His hair and mustache were trimmed almost daily.

  “I have some legal issues I need to check with you, Judge,” Shaye said. “They’re on behalf of the mayor.”

  At the mention of the mayor, the judge stopped playing with the papers on his desk and looked directly at Shaye.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” he asked. “Have a seat.”

  Shaye sat across the desk from the judge. He knew the papers on the man’s desk were probably pointless, just props to make the man look busy when he wasn’t.

  Shaye went on to tell the judge that he had men in his jail cells on trumped-up charges, and asked about the charge he was thinking of using on Hawko and Tayback. He also told him that would then leave Cole Doucette with only one man available
to him.

  Since Fairly was friends with Snow, he knew what the situation was with Cole Doucette.

  “Why don’t you just trump up a charge on Doucette and toss him in jail?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to keep him there long, Judge,” Shaye said. “You know that. A good lawyer would get him out.”

  “I could keep him in,” Fairly pointed out.

  “That’s true, Judge, but knowing you, eventually you’d have to go by the letter of the law. I mean,” Shaye said, almost choking, “that’s the kind of man you are.”

  Fairly cleared his throat before speaking. “Yes, well, a halfway decent lawyer will get these other fellas out, as well.”

  “But maybe not until I’ve dealt with Doucette.”

  “And how’d you plan on dealin’ with the man?” Fairly asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Shaye said, “but I’d like him to not have much in the way of back-up when I do.”

  “Sounds like a cat’n’mouse game to me.”

  “You’re probably right, Judge.”

  “Well,” the judge said, “lock these other men up for trespassing, and if the case comes up, I’ll rule in your favor. We’ll keep these men off the streets as long as we can.”

  “That was my hope, Judge,” Shaye said, standing. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Fairly said. “The last thing we want is for our illustrious mayor to get shot.”

  “Exactly what I was thinkin’, Judge.”

  “Well,” Judge Fairly said, looking surprised, “it isn’t every day you and I are on the same page, is it, Sheriff.”

  “No, sir, it sure isn’t,” Shaye agreed, “but I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. So will the mayor. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “Oh, yes,” the judge said, once again grabbing some papers from his desk. Shaye made his way to the door, eager to leave.

  In front of the building Shaye stopped and considered his next move. Actually, a bath wouldn’t be a bad idea, since he felt dirty from kowtowing to the judge the way he had. Still, he had gotten what he wanted. Now he needed to locate Hawko and Tayback and, somehow, get the jump on them. Hopefully, bringing them in wouldn’t lead to gun play.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Shaye walked around town, trying to locate Hawko and Tayback. He tried three saloons and didn’t find them. He was starting to think Doucette had instructed them to stay out of sight.