Man From Boot Hill

by Marcus Galloway

  “Ah, there you are, Mister Graves,” Stilson said from inside the office. “Come on in.”

  Stilson was standing at a large cabinet nailed to the wall behind his desk. Several rifles and a few shotguns could be seen inside the cabinet before Stilson closed it up and locked it with a small key. Motioning to a chair in front of his desk, Stilson said, “Have a seat.”

  Nick removed his hat and held it in front of him to conceal his gun until he was properly situated on the chair. Just to be safe, Nick kept his hat on his lap even after he’d crossed his legs and draped his jacket over the modified Schofield.

  “Graves,” Stilson muttered. “That’s an awfully fortuitous name for an undertaker, ain’t it?”

  Nick shrugged.

  “Is that your proper family name?”

  Once he saw that the sheriff was going to wait until he had a response, Nick sighed and told him, “My father brought me to this country when I was a child and he couldn’t speak much English. He’s in my same line of work and was trying to get a job the moment we got off the boat. Someone heard him mention graves, so it was marked as our name.”

  “That’s a nice story. So, what’s your real family name?”

  “My wife told me you wanted talk to me,” Nick said. “I do have a business to run, so I’d appreciate it if we could get this done as quickly as possible.”

  Sheriff Stilson nodded and drummed his fingers on top of his desk. “That was a hell of a thing that happened at the Van Meter ranch,” he finally said.

  “Yeah. I believe my wife tried to get you over there before it was too late.”

  “She did come over to tell us something about some men you saw at the graveyard.”

  “And what did you do about it?” Nick asked.

  “I did my job.” This time, it was the sheriff who found himself looking at an unyielding face that would not be satisfied by the short answer. “I found a bunch of men who work at Van Meter’s place at the Wheelbarrow and had a word with them. Not one of them knew something like this was going to happen.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’d stake my badge on it.”

  “Maybe you should do just that,” Nick muttered under his breath.

  Stilson slapped both hands against the edge of his desk and leaned forward as if he meant to bite Nick’s head clean off his shoulders. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that a little louder?”

  Looking at Stilson’s face, Nick was quickly reminded of why he’d never gotten along well with most lawmen. “I was just wondering why you happened to end your investigation at a saloon while a man was getting shot to pieces and his family was being killed in front of him.”

  Stilson’s face remained impassive for a moment before he shifted his eyes away. Leaning back into his chair, the lawman rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand before shifting his hat a bit further back upon his head. “Actually, that brings me to the reason why I asked to have a word with you.”

  “I’m here,” Nick said. “Say your piece.”

  “My deputy and I didn’t while the night away at that saloon. In fact, we spent a good portion of time following up on what your…wife told us.”

  The snide tone in the sheriff’s voice was hard to miss. Nick also picked up on how Stilson’s eyes flicked down to the empty spot on Nick’s left ring finger. He didn’t care for the lawman’s judgmental tone, but it wasn’t uncommon from those who didn’t know any better.

  “Do you have something to say about my wife?” Nick asked.

  And, just like that, the subject was closed.

  “I’d rather talk about what we found when we went to that graveyard,” Stilson said.

  Nick blinked in surprise and paused to make sure he couldn’t have heard something else. “Did you say you went to the graveyard?”

  Stilson nodded.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because,” the sheriff said, “that’s where you supposedly saw these riders.”

  “They were headed to the Van Meter place. Catherine must have told you.”

  “And we had reliable witnesses say they didn’t see anyone anywhere near that ranch that didn’t belong there. Your wife was the one who told us you’d spotted some of those gunmen riding through the graveyard, so my deputy and I went there to see if they’d come back. You want to know what we found?”

  Nick rubbed his eyes, but that didn’t do a bit of good against the ache that had settled in behind them. “Why don’t you tell me, so I can get on with my work?”

  “I found a man that had damn near bled out in the trees.”

  When he heard that, Nick felt as if he’d been jabbed in the gut. He looked up slowly to find the sheriff staring back at him expectantly. Without giving the sheriff anything in the form of a reaction, Nick asked, “Who was this man?”

  “You know damn well who he was, Graves. Or, you at least know how he was wounded. Ain’t that so?” Leaning forward, Stilson asked, “You want to say hello?”

  “Is that why you asked me to come over here?”

  “Don’t you want to see him? He’s right over there,” the sheriff said while pointing toward the back of the office.

  “Was he armed?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you went looking for a gunman around that graveyard. You found one. Now, you think I had something to do with it? Who do you think told my wife to come get you in the first place?”

  “I doubt she would have wanted me anywhere near this fella if she knew what kinds of things he had to say.”

  “It’s too early in the morning for word games,” Nick said.

  “All right, then. I’ll just cut right down to it. When I found that man, he was hanging on by a thread. Someone had cut him up pretty badly. He says it was the gravedigger and the last time I checked, you were the only gravedigger who works in this town.”

  “Didn’t my wife tell you that I was attacked?”

  “Yes and you seem to be making a good recovery. For your information, that’s also why he’s resting up in a jail cell as opposed to a bed in much more comfortable surroundings. The reason I asked you down here was so you could take a look at him and see if he’s one of the men you saw before.”

  Nick could tell there was more to it than that. He could feel the sheriff’s eyes studying him and, so far, Nick figured he’d done fairly well under the lawman’s scrutiny.

  “And what if he is?” Nick asked.

  “Let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Getting up, Nick was careful to keep his jacket closed and his hat in front of him to make certain his gun remained out of sight. “Should I go back there and have a look?”

  Gesturing toward the back of the office with a sweeping gesture, Stilson said, “Be my guest. Try not to get too close to the bars. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

  Nick walked to the small room at the back of the sheriff’s office where rows of bars sectioned off four small cages separated by a wide but short aisle. The only occupied cell was in the right corner. Sitting there with his back to the wall was the man who’d been on the receiving end of Nick’s knife not too long ago. Judging by the frightened look in his wide eyes, the prisoner had no trouble recognizing Nick.

  “You stay the hell away from me,” J. D. said.

  Lowering his voice to a quick whisper, Nick hissed, “I could finish the job I started real quickly, so just pretend like you never saw me and I’ll be on my way.”

  Seeing the disbelief in J. D.’s eyes, Nick opened his jacket just enough for J. D. to get a look at the gun at his side. The prisoner’s jaw dropped and he pulled in a breath. Before he could say anything, Nick cut him off.

  “We both play dumb and we’ll both walk out of here without any charges against us. Sound good?”

  “I’m not sure if…”

  “Everything all right over there?” Stilson asked from his desk in the other room.

  “Don’t answer him,” Nick snarled. “Answer me and
be quick about it.”

  “You won’t keep your end up,” J. D. said defiantly. “If I’m gonna rot in here, then so are you, asshole.”

  Heavy steps thumped from the next room and drew closer to the cells. Nick lowered his hand to his gun and stoked the fire in his glare when he said, “If I wanted this done, you would have been dead then, just like you could be dead right now. Believe that.”

  Just then, the sheriff stepped into the doorway and looked between the two men. “What’d you say, Graves?”

  “I said I believe that I’ve seen what I needed to see.”

  “Is he the man who attacked you?”

  Nick sighed and furrowed his brow. “I can’t really say for certain. There were so many men coming through there. All I know is that I took a shot at the one who took a shot at me. I can’t really say this is him.”

  “What about you?” Stilson asked J. D. “Is this the fellow who knifed you?”

  J. D. looked back and forth between Nick and the sheriff as if he didn’t know what the hell to say. Eventually, he caught the scent of freedom and took the olive branch that Nick had offered. “I…can’t really say for certain.”

  “Honestly, Sheriff,” Nick said as he wiped his brow in a way to be certain the lawman could see his mangled hand and missing fingers, “it’s been a while since I’ve been any good with a knife.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. You mean to tell me all this bullshit was for nothing?” As the sheriff looked at the two men for his answer, all he got was a few reluctant shrugs. “Get the hell out of my sight,” Stilson growled as he pulled a ring of keys from his belt. “Both of you!”

  TWELVE

  J. D. stepped out of the sheriff’s office with a smile on his face and steam in his stride. After a cautious look down either side of the street, he turned and walked to the corner. Every step of the way, he thought about the saloon he’d spotted when he’d been dragged into his cell. Already, he could taste the whiskey he meant to order and the woman he meant to buy. Those thoughts alone were more than enough to widen the grin on his face.

  Stepping down from the boardwalk, he hurried across the street and headed for the nearest corner. There weren’t many folks near the saloons at this early hour, so nobody was there to see J. D. get pulled into an alley by the collar.

  “What in the hell?” J. D. shouted as he was dragged off the street. He kicked as much as he could while trying to maintain his balance. He even balled up his fists and swung behind him, but only managed to land a few glancing blows.

  “Hello,” Nick said casually as he slammed J. D. against a wall halfway down the alley. “Long time, no see.”

  “Son of a bitch! I knew you wouldn’t hold up yer end of the deal.”

  Nick frowned and pulled in a shocked breath. “What a horrible thing to say. I did just what I promised. You’re out and so am I.”

  J. D. glared at Nick, swatting at the hand that was still holding him by the collar. Following up with a harder swing, J. D. still couldn’t get Nick to let him go.

  Grinning, Nick opened his hand and clamped it over J. D.’s mouth. “It’d be better all around if you kept your voice down.”

  Once Nick lowered his hand, J. D. said, “I don’t have to do a damn thing you tell me.”

  The next thing J. D. felt was the barrel of Nick’s modified Schofield digging into his stomach.

  “Then I’ll have to set an example by being real quiet, myself,” Nick said. “I’ll bet if I pull my trigger right now, no one will hear much of anything.”

  J. D. swallowed hard and nodded. “All right,” he said in the calmest voice he could muster. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Although Nick eased back a bit, he didn’t holster the gun so J. D. was still reminded of its presence. “I want to know who raided Van Meter’s ranch.”

  “Who’s Van Meter?”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed into fiery slits and he shoved his gun even deeper into J. D.’s stomach. “Van Meter’s the man who lost his family and home thanks to those fucking animals you ride with. Disgrace those folks once more by acting dumb and I’ll hollow you out right now. I’m sure Mister Van Meter would be happy to see your carcass in the back of my wagon.”

  “Oh, oh! Van Meter! I thought you said—” J. D. was cut short by a cautionary tilt of Nick’s head. “Yeah. I know who you’re talking about.”

  “Who were you riding with?” Nick asked.

  “There’s a couple dozen in all. We’ve been riding together for a little while.”

  “A couple dozen?” J. D. nodded. “Give or take. Some join up and tag along for a job or two, while others drop out and lay low for a while. The law don’t know who they’re looking for that way,” he added with a smirk.

  “Real good system you got there.”

  “It works pretty damn well.”

  “How about you smile a little wider so I can knock all your teeth out with one punch instead of two?”

  Receiving Nick’s point good and clear, J. D. took the smug grin off his face and settled back against the wall. “There were about two dozen or so of us on this job.”

  “Bullshit. I heard maybe a dozen and that’s being generous.”

  “Half passed by that graveyard,” J. D. explained. “The other half was circling around to approach that ranch from the southeast, since that’s where most of the herd was grazing.”

  “They got the herd, too?” J. D. looked as if he thought Nick was kidding. “That was the plan,” he said finally. “Half the boys were to round up them cattle after taking out whatever was left of the hands.”

  “How many of Van Meter’s workers did your friends kill?”

  “Not as many as we could’ve killed. That’s because Dutch made sure to get one or two of the workers working for us instead of for the rancher. That’s another system that’s been working real good.” This time, J. D. didn’t have to be warned to keep from gloating too much. “We had two workers from this place on our side. They told us the layout of the place and got the rest of the hired hands out of there when it came time for us to ride in.”

  “How’d you get those workers cleared out of there?”

  J. D. shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even care. However those men we pay off do it is fine by us. Prevents a whole lot of killing that way.”

  Nick tightened his grip on J. D.’s shirt and leaned on his gun a bit more. “You and your friends are real concerned about sparing lives? Where was all that concern when it came time to kill that rancher’s family?”

  “I wasn’t even there,” J. D. replied. “I was bleeding in the dirt, remember?”

  “And if you had been there, everything would’ve turned out so much better?”

  J. D. started to say something to that but knew better than to make a sound. Nick looked too close to pulling his trigger for him to risk it.

  “The leader of that gang turned that ranch into a slaughterhouse for a reason. Either him and his men are bloodthirsty animals or they were out to leave a mark of where they were.”

  “We heard about a stash of money that rancher was keeping. Georgie told us about it. That’s what we were after from the start. If anyone got hurt, then they must have gotten stupid and tried to get in Dutch’s way.”

  Nick gritted his teeth and felt his finger tighten around his trigger. “That family barely put up a fight,” he said.

  As much as he wanted to rein in his temper before blasting a hole through J. D., Nick simply couldn’t come up with a good reason of why he should. J. D. wasn’t the least bit sorry about what his gang had done. It might have been a lifetime ago, but Nick remembered how that felt.

  “Who’s this Dutch?” Nick asked in a voice that strained like a bowstring on the verge of snapping.

  “Dutch Groves. Ask around about that name and you’ll know he’s not the sort of man you want to fool with.”

  “Who else rides with him?”

  “Bertram Dorsett is another. The rest come and go. I couldn’t tell you all their n
ames if I wanted to. Now, are you gonna let me go or are you gonna shoot me?”

  Nick nodded and let out a single, humorless laugh at the other man’s pluck. He glanced up and down the alley to find that there was nobody else in sight. The few locals who’d walked by since Nick had snagged J. D. hadn’t even bothered to glance in their direction.

  Nick raised the gun so it was wedged up under J. D.’s chin. “If you put it that way…” J. D. immediately started to tremble and his eyes bulged out, straining to get a look at the gun. When he heard the metallic click of the hammer being thumbed back, J. D.’s legs wobbled until Nick’s other hand was the only thing holding him up.

  “I didn’t mean that,” J. D. moaned. “I swear I didn’t!”

  “Where are those riders headed to next?” Nick asked calmly.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been locked up. They…they don’t plan a second job out until they’re done with the first one.”

  Nick shook his head slowly. “If they’ve got these things planned out so well, they’ve also got their next couple of stops all lined up.”

  “No! They…they’ll take the cattle to be sold and then…then that’s when they’ll figure out where they’re headed.”

  After a few moments, Nick shrugged. “All right.”

  Seeing the sincerity in Nick’s eyes, J. D. let out the breath that had been trapped in his throat and let his shoulders come down from around his ears.

  “Since you proved to be completely fucking useless,” Nick said, “I might as well blow your brains onto this wall and bury you in my field. I’ve got a few spare caskets anyway, so…”

  “New Mexico!” J. D. shouted. Wincing, he dropped his voice down to a stage whisper. “New Mexico. That’s where they’re headed.”

  “Where in New Mexico?”

  “If I tell you…will you let me go?”

  “Only if you swear to get the hell out of here and never come back.”

  J. D. nodded vigorously. “I swear. I swear.”