Revenge at the Rodeo

by Gilbert, Morris

  Face burning with embarrassment, she ducked her head and drove Big Boy at full speed out of the arena. She came to a halt, slipped off to the ground, and patted Big Boy’s neck.

  As usual when she lost, she wanted to scream or kick something, but she kept it bottled up inside.

  Then a voice cried, “Hey, that was great! You got all three of them!”

  Whirling, she found Ben Savage nodding with approval. He was wearing a pair of slacks, a blue knit shirt, and a pair of disreputable Nikes that had once been white.

  Dani opened her mouth, prepared to scream at him, then realized that he was needling her. “It takes lots of practice,” she conceded with a casual shrug. “Some of the girls go for days without getting a single barrel, but I can usually nail at least one.”

  He came over and stood in front of her, his hazel eyes alert. His coarse black hair was unruly, and he seemed to move easily, betraying no sign of the beating he had taken. “You okay?” he asked casually, his broad gash of a mouth relaxed.

  “Yes, Ben.” She studied him carefully, not wanting to show how glad she was to see him. “How about you?”

  “Guess I’ll live through a couple more clean shirts,” he answered. “Still a little stiff.” He eyed Big Boy cautiously, then confirmed, “I have an exaggerated respect for large animals. In fact, I’m scared spitless of them.”

  She laughed. “Let me put him up, then we can go talk.” She unsaddled Big Boy, put him in a stall, then suggested, “Let’s walk for a while.” She led him out, and as they strolled under the huge live oaks decked with moss, she spoke animatedly. They found a bench in front of one of the classroom buildings and sat there, Ben listening as she told him about Megan. He only made a few comments.

  Dani gave him a strange look and began, “Something happened on our way here from Fort Smith.” She paused, suddenly aware that she wanted very much for Savage to understand. He saw her trying to arrange her thoughts and wondered what was coming. Finally she disclosed, “Well, Ben, we stopped at a little church outside of Little Rock—and Luke was converted.”

  Ben had expected almost anything else, and he blinked with surprise. He tried to adjust his concept of Sixkiller to the sudden image of the man that her words had stirred—but he could not reconcile the two. Dani, he saw, was waiting for him to speak, and he stated quietly, “I know you’re happy about that, Boss.”

  Dani wanted to say, I wish you’d come to that place, Ben! but did not. She spoke of it, giving Savage the details, then ended, “It’s going to be tough on him, Ben.”

  She was, he realized, asking him for support. “Sure. But he can make it. Luke’s a pretty stubborn fellow. Gets his head down and runs at it—whatever he does. Might not fit in the regular pattern, though.”

  “You’re right about that, Ben.” Dani realized that Savage had expressed his promise to do what he could for Luke in his new way. She warmed to him, wanting to put her arms around him, to hug him hard, and say, That’s my Ben!

  But she did none of these things, afraid that if she let herself go, she would pass over some sort of invisible and tenuous line that lay between them. Instead, she shook her hair in a restless gesture, got to her feet, then blurted out, “Let’s go watch the bull riding. Luke’s giving Bake Dempsey some competition.”

  They walked back into the arena, coming to stand close to the chute where Clyde was dealing with a huge brindle-striped Brahma with heavy, blunt horns and a massive head. The animal’s hump was almost level with the top of the chute.

  Suddenly Sixkiller stood beside them. “Ain’t he a little darlin’?” he said, grinning at Savage. “How you coming, Ben?”

  Savage stared at Luke, then back at the bull. He nodded and answered, “I’m doing all right.” He stared at the bull, who raked his horns across the wooden frame of the chute with a loud bang, then shook his head. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Let’s go out to eat as soon as I win first place.” He left and mounted the chute, then settled himself carefully onto the bull. He set his grip, then nodded, and the gate swung open. The animal went into a tight, cyclonic spin, but Luke stayed aboard until the buzzer sounded. He came off, hitting the ground hard, and when one boot caught in the dirt, sprawled headlong.

  Dani’s hand caught at Ben, and he felt her nails bite into his arm.

  The bull saw Luke and made a dive at him, but somehow Hank Lowe slipped between the bull and Sixkiller. At that instant Rocky James made a dive at Luke, seized him by one arm, and with all his strength snatched him up and hurled him to the left. The bull caught a glimpse of Luke, but Lowe jumped at him, slapping him in the face with his hat. The bull stopped in confusion but suddenly lowered his head and charged so quickly that Hank had no time to dodge. As the bull got to him, he grabbed the near horn with both hands and vaulted over the bull’s head. The crowd broke out in startled yells and wild applause. The hazers moved in, roped the bull, and dragged him from the arena.

  Dani moved without planning it, going to Luke and asking in a not quite steady voice, “Are—you all right?”

  “Sure.” Luke turned and threw his arm around Lowe’s shoulder, giving him a hard hug. “Hey, I owe you a steak for that.”

  Then Ruth was there, coming from the rear, and her lips were trembling. She seemed to be unsteady on her feet, and Hank had to reach out to grab her. She held to his arm, gazed at him, and finally quavered, “I thought you—”

  She couldn’t finish, but a light came into Hank Lowe’s eyes. “No problem, Ruth,” he comforted her, then took a deep breath and smiled broadly. Without letting go of her shoulder, he ordered, “Well, you folks better move out of here. That next bull is on his way.”

  Ruth loosened her hold, but as she moved out of the arena, Ben affirmed, “I guess that was pretty good, Ruth. He saved Luke’s bacon, didn’t he?”

  “Yes—but who’s going to save him?” She shook her head. “When did you get here, Ben?”

  The two of them talked, but later when Savage, Sixkiller, and Dani went to Chris’s Steak House for a late supper, Ben remarked, “Ruth looks pretty down. Pretty hard jolt, losing what she wanted most.”

  Dani didn’t comment, and Luke only maintained, “She’ll be all right, Ben.” Then he shook his head, grinned slightly and asked, “You hear about me? I’m ready to start passing out tracts on the street.”

  “I’m glad for you, Luke,” Ben said instantly, and a warm light filled his eyes as he smiled at Sixkiller. “You’ll be a winner with God, just like you’ve been one with the department.”

  Luke was taken aback, for he had expected that Savage would be cool, if not antagonistic to his new life-style. “Thanks, Ben. I know you mean that.”

  The two men said no more, but Dani felt happy. She sat there between them, and soon they began talking about the case. She went over all they had, and when she was finished, Luke explained, “It’s not going too well. I don’t see how we can flush this guy out.”

  “Only two ways to motivate folks,” Ben advised slowly. “Either a carrot or a stick. But his carrot is the money he’s raking off—and we don’t have a stick to use on him.”

  As he spoke, Dani had one of those moments of revelation. Suddenly something had popped into her mind and she reported, “Hey, I think I know how we can motivate our man.”

  “With a carrot?” Savage asked, one eyebrow high.

  “No, with a stick.”

  “Dani, how are you going to use a stick on him, when you don’t even know who he is?”

  “That’s my idea,” Dani continued. “Now listen to this. . . .”

  The two men listened intently as she outlined her plan. As soon as she finished, both began to shake their heads. At the same moment, they exclaimed, “No way!” and Ben said, “It’s too risky.”

  But Danielle Ross would not be denied. For over an hour the three disputed the idea. Finally Ben shook his head wearily. “I don’t know why I argue with you! I never win.”

  “We’ll have to build in lots of backup,”
Luke warned. “And the thing that bothers me most is that backups are never very close. You might have to handle this guy yourself, and—”

  Dani observed slowly when he paused, “You don’t think I can use a gun.”

  “That’s it.” He nodded. “And you don’t know either.”

  “Well, I’ll probably know before this is over,” Dani pointed out practically. Then in a businesslike fashion that covered the agitation that had already begun to stir in her, she insisted, “Now, let’s get this thing firmed up!”

  Dani caught Bake Dempsey the next afternoon just as he was going to get his horse for the calf-roping event. “Bake, can you do me a favor?”

  “Well, I got to get ready for—”

  Dani cut him off, “Oh, not now, Bake! But after you finish, will you give this note to Ben for me?”

  Bake’s mind was on the event, and he nodded absently, saying, “Yeah, sure, Dani.”

  She turned and ran out of the chute area. Bake stared at her, his attention caught by her excitement. “Wonder, what’s her hurry?” After the calf roping was over, he saw Ben talking to Ruth. “Hey, Ben,” he cried, taking the note out of his pocket and handing it over. “Dani asked me to give you this.”

  “Thanks.” As Bake walked away, Ruth asked, “Do you think this will work, Ben?”

  “Maybe. But I don’t like it.” Then he shook off the frown that creased his brow, and glanced at her. “We’ll catch this guy, Ruth.”

  Ruth gave him a wan smile. “Doesn’t seem to matter too much now, Ben. Clint’s gone.” She looked very tired, and when she left him, he suddenly kicked the dust in an outburst of violence he could not contain.

  “Women!” he complained bitterly, then wandered back toward the chutes, stopping when Tom Leathers called, “Hey, Savage, come here, will you?”

  The call came at nine o’clock. Dani had not left her room, afraid she would miss it. About eight she had gotten hungry but had ordered a sandwich from room service. She had paced the floor nervously and was still pacing when the phone went off, the shrill ring making her jump.

  She put her hand on the phone, took a deep breath, then picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Dani.”

  “Oh, it’s you!” Dani made her voice weary. “I thought I’d hear from you. How much do you want this time, you bloodsucker?”

  “Oh, I didn’t call to talk about money, Dani.” A chuckle sounded and he said, “That surprises you, doesn’t it? Can’t you even guess why I’m calling?”

  “No. What is it?”

  “Why, I’ve got a friend of yours with me.” There was a pause, and the sound of some sort of struggle, after which she heard the Creep say, “Speak up or I’ll cut your throat!”

  Dani stood there, fear beginning to have its way. This was not the plan! Then she heard another struggle, and then—

  “Dani! Don’t come here! He’s not—”

  It was Luke’s voice! Dani gripped the phone so tightly that her hand ached, and finally heard the hateful voice complaining, “Your friend isn’t very cooperative, Dani. But you’ll be more reasonable, won’t you?”

  “What—what do you want?”

  “Why, you know that, Dani! A smart lady like you?” Dani stood there, paralyzed, and the voice, muffled as it was, grew cold. “Bring that evidence to me right now, or your friend will be dead!”

  “Wait—!”

  “No! I won’t wait. You’ve got exactly one hour to get the evidence and put it in my hands! Listen, now, and I’ll tell you exactly where to bring it.” He spoke rapidly. When he was finished, he warned, “You bring the police, and Sixkiller is dead. You might get me, but I’ll finish him off first. Now, you’ve got one hour—one hour, that’s all!”

  The phone went dead, and Dani stood there, her mind frozen, it seemed. But she shook her head, said a quick prayer, then went to the dresser and took out the .38. After she had belted it around her waist, she took out another gun, a nickel-plated .25 Beretta automatic. She pulled the clip out, checked the loads, then shoved it back in and levered a shell into the chamber. Then she went to the closet, pulled out a worn pair of calf-high boots, and pulled them on. Finally she slipped the Beretta into the piece of canvas she’d had a shoemaker tack inside one boot that afternoon. When she got up and walked, it felt uncomfortable, but not unbearable. She sat down on the chair, bent over, and pulled the automatic free, then replaced it. Feeling a little ridiculous, she picked up the Rapala filet knife she’d bought at a sporting-goods store and slipped it into the other boot, sheath and all.

  Still sitting there, she prayed quietly for no more than five minutes, then rose, picked up an old black leather briefcase she’d prepared, and left the room. The Silverado sounded very loud as she started the engine, and as she pulled out of the parking lot of the Courtyard and turned off onto Interstate 10, she put everything out of her mind but the task ahead of her. She was not afraid for herself, which was a shock to her, but she felt terrified that Luke might suffer. She could not put the thought of Megan out of her mind and prayed again, O God, don’t let it happen to Luke!

  She took a right at the Essen exit and followed it until it crossed Perkins and became Staring Lane. The stars were out, she noticed as she drove carefully toward the river, and she wished they were not so bright, for darkness might well be her only ally.

  Crossing Highway 30, she saw the low-lying form of the levee, then came to the dirt road that led to the top of it. When she left the street lights, there were only the headlights to make twin cones in the hot darkness. The smell of the river came to her, rank and strong, and she could see flashes as the moon and stars threw their reflections on the broad bosom of the river—the Mississippi River, the largest river in North America. People from the South called it the Old Man.

  She kept one eye on the odometer, measuring off exactly 2.6 miles, and at once she saw the turnoff, on the river side of the levee, just as he had said.

  Carefully she turned the truck onto the steep, slanting side of the levee and followed it until the land grew level. Then the road turned right and disappeared into a forest of willows that lay ahead. For a while the road itself was no wider than the Silverado, but it broadened out suddenly, and there in the twin beams of her lights, she saw a small, unpainted, one-room cabin with a white pickup parked in front of it. She stopped the car, turned the switch, then took a deep breath. Her hands were steady as she opened the door.

  Just as her boots sank into the moist alluvial mud, a voice caught her: “Now, just hold it right there, Dani.” She stood stock-still, and a bright light caught her in the face, blinding her. “Just put your hands on the cab!”

  Dani turned and placed both hands on top of the cab. She could see the river in front of her, flickering with a million ripples, and then she felt a hand going down her side and flinched in spite of herself.

  “Easy now! Ah! Here we are!” The weight of the .38 left her side, and the voice directed, “Now you can turn around, Dani.”

  When she turned, he kept the light on her, but chest high, not in her eyes. “You bring my little present?”

  “In the cab.”

  “You just move real careful, now, and let me have a look.” Dani moved to one side and was able to make out a dark form, but no more as he opened the door. He leaned over, took out the briefcase, then opened it. Inside were five audio cassettes and three videotapes, all in plastic cases.

  “Now, you’ve got to convince me that these aren’t just copies.”

  Dani said dully, “I was going to do that tomorrow. One time I ruined a video, and I asked Ben to take care of it.”

  There was a silence and then a low laugh. “Well, I think I’ll buy it. Now, wouldn’t you like to know my real identity?’

  Dani nodded, and again he chuckled. Then he put the light up so that it shone on his face. “Now, Dani, you know who I am.”

  “Clyde!” Dani whispered.

  Lockyear laughed and spoke in his own voice, “Dani! Dani! I really am disa
ppointed in you! You’ll never know how many hours I put in worrying that you’d tumble onto ol’ Clyde!”

  “Why, Clyde?” Dani asked. “You’ve got more money than you need.”

  “Dani, I’m a little pressed for time,” Lockyear evaded her question. “But if you’ll just move down toward the shack, you can join your old buddy Luke. We’ve got a little trip to make, and I’ll entertain you on the way. Move down toward the house.”

  Dani stumbled down the rough pathway, the light from his flashlight piercing the darkness. When she was almost to the house, he ordered, “Now, take a right—out to the boat dock.”

  Dani moved to where an aluminum boat was tied to a rude dock, and when she got near the prow, Lockyear reported, “Here we are, Luke. Just like I said! I knew Dani wouldn’t let her good friend down! Now, Dani, turn around and hold out your hands. And be careful!” The click of a hammer being drawn back was loud in the stillness and as she held out her hands he said, “It takes two hands to do this, but if you move, why, you won’t need to be tied, will you now?”

  She didn’t answer but stood silently as he tied her hands tightly with a length of heavy cord. “Now, then, you get in the front of the boat with Luke, and we’ll make our little trip.”

  The boat rocked as Dani stepped in, and she almost fell, but Clyde caught her. “Watch it now!” he warned, then steadied her. “Just move down with Luke.”

  Dani walked carefully to the bow of the boat, then sat down on the thwart beside Luke. In the brightness of the moonlight she could see that he was tied hand and foot and that blood was trickling down from his left eyebrow.

  “Sorry, Dani,” he apologized quietly. “My fault. I let him get behind me with a gun.”

  “It’s all right, Luke,” Dani comforted him and, moving awkwardly, managed to put her bound hands on his. “You mustn’t take this on yourself.”