by Nik Morton
"That's a shame." He gestured toward the doctor's surgery. "I'm calling in on the doctor. If you or Zeke have any information, let me know."
"Sure thing, Marshal."
Cash entered the doctor's surgery as Miles shrugged into a fresh white shirt. His wound was bandaged, and his smart jacket was slung over a chair with his gun-belt. "About time you came to get me out of here," Miles said.
"You're fit to travel, then?"
"Sure. Why?"
"We need to track the last stage out of town—Esther's on it."
Buttoning his jacket, Miles frowned. "I find it hard to believe that she'd up and quit, even if she was wounded."
"My thoughts precisely."
They rode out of town and along the stagecoach trail. The recent ruts were clear for a good way. Then, after about five miles of easy riding, there was a cluster of horse tracks, and the pronounced indentation of the stage wheels suggested that the coach had stopped for a while.
Four horse tracks moved northwest, away from the trail. In the direction of the old Sullivan place.
* * *
"Please, Mrs. Nolan, don't do this!" Danny's naked body writhed and squirmed on the bed, but he couldn't break the tethers. The shreds of his clothing lay scattered on the rough earth.
"What are you doing?" he demanded as she discarded her shirt.
"I'm going to ride you, boy, till your eyes pop!"
"No, I want to be pure for Ada—please don't do this!" he pleaded.
"Pure?" She laughed, and slipped out of her chemise. The lambent glow of the lamp highlighted her contours and emphasized the dark areolas of her breasts. "That's not how I see you from here, boy!" She unbuckled her belt.
"Why are you doing this?"
She dropped her skirt to the floor then paused, her attractive features suddenly twisted into a hideous grimace. "Why? Because your mother's pet marshal killed my beau, that's why!"
"Your—your beau? But you're married ...!"
She let out a high-pitched laugh. "One day you'll understand, boy. Marriage ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's all about power and need!" She hurriedly removed the rest of her garments and, completely naked save for her boots, moved toward him. "And I need you—now!"
* * *
From the rise overlooking the cleared area, it was obvious that the new Nolan mansion was half-finished, but there were no workmen present now. "He works fast, don't he?" Miles said.
"The mayor has plenty of money, it seems," Cash said. "But is it his—or the town's?"
"There lies the rub," opined Miles. Then he pointed to two horses tethered at the corral to the right of the building. "Two shouldn't be difficult, I reckon."
"Let's take it easy. If she's seen their faces, they might feel inclined to kill her as soon as we show up."
Tying their horses to branches, they split up, left and right and descended the treed slope.
The only complete building was the bunkhouse—perhaps the builders stayed there overnight, Cash mused. He approached the corner at an oblique angle, so anyone at the windows wouldn't see him.
Miles moved slower than normal, and headed for the mansion itself; from there he'd have a commanding view of the entrance to the bunkhouse and surrounding hardpan.
Cash reached the clapboard walls and hugged his back to them. His hand felt sweaty as he gripped the Colt. He heard voices—two men. May be more, though.
"The boss should be here soon with Craig," said one of them.
Cash's memory stirred, but he couldn't place the voice.
Could still be harmless workmen.
The other one spoke: "Do you reckon he's got a hankering after her, Felix?"
Felix? Vaguely familiar, but he couldn't snag the memory.
"Nah," said Felix, "she's too bossy for his taste."
"You're making a big mistake," said Esther, "keeping me here."
Not harmless workmen, after all.
Felix ... Felix Penny? Was it twenty years since he was sent to prison? No, it wasn't. Maybe he got out for good behavior. Or escaped ...
Then that meant the Craig he referred to was Bond, Craig Bond.
Figures, he thought. They probably wanted to get even with Esther and what better way than to sabotage her campaign for mayor. But would it simply end with her losing—or had Craig a more sinister kind of revenge on his mind?
He removed his hat and risked a glance through the bottom corner of the nearest window.
Felix Penny was recognizable, even though he now sported a black beard sprinkled with gray. He limped across the room toward Esther. She was secured to a straight-backed chair with a length of lariat. She seemed disheveled but otherwise unharmed. Her wounded left arm was bandaged with a purple bandana.
The other man lounged against the wall, loading and reloading his six-gun. "I think we can't let her live," he said.
"Don't do the thinking, Alec. Leave that to Craig."
"But she's seen our faces."
"Leave it. She stays alive till the end of the election. Craig says that's what his orders were—they don't want her body turning up before the election."
He'd heard enough.
Cash signaled to Miles.
Seconds later, Miles fired his rifle at the door, head-high.
As Felix and his pal Alec withdrew their pistols and turned, distracted, Cash fired through the window, shooting both in the back. They staggered against the wall.
Felix spun round, aimed at Esther. Cash drilled his forehead and he collapsed. Alec sat in a crumpled heap, whimpering, wheezing on a damaged lung.
Cash ran round to the door and kicked it in. Miles was right behind him as he entered.
Esther's eyes widened, pleased and surprised. "Cash—they've got Danny!"
"Here?" he asked, using his knife on her bonds.
"No, I don't think so." She shrugged off the severed lengths of rope and winced at the pain of her wound. "The man named Felix told me."
Cash nodded. "That's the only way you'd let them get you on that stage, isn't it?"
"Yes. They threatened to kill him if I didn't go along with them."
"You have no idea where Danny might be?"
"No ..." Her voice cracked.
Cash went over to the man with the bubbling lung. He knelt down. "Alec, is that your name?"
The man nodded, his eyelids heavy, drooping. "Yes," he croaked.
"Do you know where they took the boy?"
Alec's eyes glazed over, staring. Fear hovered there. His lower lip trembled. Cash unfastened the man's bandana and pressed it over the bubbling chest wound. For a second or two, Alec's breathing seemed quieter.
"I was only paid to watch her," Alec wheezed. "Felix didn't tell me much else."
Cash stood up. "He's not much use."
"Well, he's even less now," Miles remarked, pointing.
Alec was dead.
Esther gripped Cash's hand. "How are we going to find Danny?"
He hugged her and she cried against his chest. "We'll find him. I promise."
"I don't even know if he's still alive," she sobbed.
Those words cut into Cash like a knife, yet he couldn't account for his pained reaction. He'd known young men who met untimely and unfair deaths before. Why did the thought of Danny's death affect him?
* * *
Abused and corrupted at the age of twelve, Angelina learned the harshest lesson of life: you had to be strong and ruthless to get what you wanted. Now, she relished inflicting pain on the weak and the defenseless. And she derived much pleasure from corrupting the innocent.
Sated for the moment, she buttoned up her shirt and turned to the doorway of the root cellar. She left the oil lamp to burn low.
As she climbed the steps, she reflected that Brett never could understand her urges. Jerry was beginning to—until that damned marshal shot him.
She swung the door wide and the intense sunlight made her squint. Craig would be waiting. Maybe he'd replace Jerry in her affections? He had a hard ed
ge to him—and a fierce grudge against Mrs. Tolliver.
Mrs. Tolliver. Just thinking of that woman brought a sly smile to Angelina's mouth. If only Mrs. Tolliver knew ...
Her smile froze as Brett snapped, "What the hell are you doing down there?"
He strode from their ranch house porch, his smart black jacket dust-covered. He must have just ridden here from his rally in town.
She absently slammed shut the door, snapped the padlock. "Just checking on our provisions."
"Since when have you been interested in our vegetables?"
She shrugged. "Since I realized I'd married one?"
He raised a hand, about to slap her, then thought better of it. "You'd like me to, wouldn't you, you bitch?"
"Slap me, my dear, and I'll do much worse to you." She eyed his crotch meaningfully. "That is, if there's anything worth bothering with there ..."
"You used to enjoy it!"
"I only pretended, you fool!" She brushed past him and made her way to her horse that stood patiently waiting.
She mounted and gazed down at her husband. Tears glistened, brimming in his eyes. He was weak, too—but he'd been useful to further her ambition, so she'd refrained from breaking him. He might still get into the state legislature, if he greased the right palms. And she'd ride on his coattails.
She leaned down, ran a hand over his face and used a thumb to brush away the moisture at his eyes. "Sorry, my dear. I'll make it up to you after the election. I promise." She blew him a kiss and rode off for her appointment with Craig Bond.
* * *
Craig halted his horse on the rise overlooking the Sullivan ranch. He watched as the two marshals rode out with the widow Traynor—or Tolliver. She seemed to collect dead husbands, he mused.
He ground his teeth together. It was tempting, to sit here and shoot them with his rifle. But he wasn't that good a marksman. In his day, Dan Fleming had been an exceptional shot—until that hay bail brained him. He was still in prison, happy to stay there, his mind no clearer after all these years had passed.
No, he thought, I'll have to bide my time.
For now, he'd better get back to Mrs. Nolan and tell her their plan had a severe hole in it.
Even so, they still had the boy. Yes, the kid was a good bargaining chip.
* * *
On their way to the Tolliver ranch, Cash said, "Did you recognize the guy named Felix?"
"No ..." She thought for a moment and then gasped, "Not Felix Penny?"
"The same. That limp, he got it from me, if you recall."
"He came to get even with me, is that it?"
"Could be. It's also likely that Craig Bond and Dan Fleming aren't too far away, either."
"Oh, my God—you mean they could be the men who took Danny?"
Cash nodded. "It's highly likely."
"What do we do now?"
"Check on your ranch. See if we can pick up their tracks."
At that moment, Miles reined in and indicated three coyotes fighting over a carcass in a slight depression on their right. A black cloud of flies hovered. "I thought I saw some blue—clothing, maybe," he said.
Cash fired a warning shot and the coyotes scurried off.
All three rode up and then Esther turned away and dry-heaved.
It was the remains of a man's torso.
Miles glanced around at more disturbed ground in the depression. "Over there," he pointed, and then added, "and over there, too."
Cash and Miles dismounted. It didn't take long to discover the three graves; wild animals had disturbed all of them and now flies buzzed. But there was no sign of a cross, headstone or other marker.
Esther rode up to the second grave as Cash scooped earth away from the head.
"Oh, God," she whispered, raising a hand to her mouth. "That's Mike Sullivan. He had a wife and a son ..."
"That explains the other two graves, I reckon," Miles said.
"I guess they didn't sell out, after all," Cash added.
* * *
Angelina Nolan strode into the sheriff's office. The eyes of the two young deputies widened and it seemed as though they had trouble keeping their tongues from lolling from their open mouths.
"Is the sheriff in?" she asked.
Sheriff Hain emerged from the back room. He doffed his hat, briefly. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Nolan?" Concern flashed across his face. "Nothing troubling the mayor, I hope?"
She smiled. "No, he's just fine. Looking forward to the election tomorrow, of course."
"Yes. He's bound to win."
The two deputies kept silent on the topic, but their eyes never left her figure.
"Can you step outside, Sheriff? I have a favor to ask of you."
"Sure." He turned to his deputies. "Hold the fort till I get back, Zeke."
"Sure thing, Sheriff."
Hain stepped outside behind Mr. Nolan. He shut the door behind them and they took a few paces along the boardwalk.
"What's the favor, Mrs. Nolan?"
"It's worth a great deal of money, if you're interested."
"I might be. What does it entail?"
Craig Bond stepped out from the nearby alley. "Sheriff, I'd like you to join me on a little hunting trip."
* * *
The discovery of the Sullivans changed their plans. They re-covered the bodies as best as they could, then built a cairn of rocks that would be spotted easily enough. Cash said, "We've got to report this—and arrange for their reburial." Cash eyed the darkening sky, the gray clouds skimming the horizon. "Besides, it's getting late."
Esther reluctantly agreed, so they headed to town.
As they approached the entrance to Bear Pines, they rode past the cemetery. The backdrop of the coming sunset created a somber sight. The judge was burying his wife. It seemed as if most of the township had come to the funeral.
Esther cried, but Cash suspected it wasn't just about the judge's loss. She must be anxious to get on the trail of Danny's abductors.
"We need something to eat," Miles said as they dismounted in front of the sheriff's office.
Esther shook her head. "I couldn't eat a thing. If I did, I'd have trouble keeping it down ..."
"Howdy, Marshal," said Zeke, stepping out of the office. "Sheriff ain't in. Can I help?"
"You might want to send Mr. Peel out to the Sullivan place—there are two dead bodies in the bunkhouse."
Zeke grinned. "Your handiwork, Marshal?"
"Felons who committed the crime of kidnapping."
"I guess you don't take prisoners, eh, Marshal?"
"Sometimes, they don't want to come quietly. So they get an eternity of quiet, instead."
Zeke chuckled then, raising his hat, added, "Glad to see you've come back, Mrs. Tolliver."
"Thank you, Zeke," she answered tremulously. "Good to be back."
Cash didn't want to mention the Sullivan bodies yet, until he'd spoken to the judge. Zeke had enough on his plate, as it was. "We'll be at the hotel—if Sheriff Hain returns," he said.
They were served steak, potatoes and peas in the hotel restaurant. Esther picked at her food, but was able to force a little down. Lines of worry creased her forehead. The election was tomorrow and Cash knew that she had no stomach for it while Danny was missing.
"We'll find him," he promised. "First light, we'll leave."
She gave a desultorily nod.
The judge joined their table shortly after they'd finished and were smoking cheroots. His face was sad and his shoulders were slumped. Cash gave him a cigar and then, briefly, explained what they'd found in the depression. "Would you be able to get the names of all those who've sold out to Nolan?" he asked.
The judge blanched. "You mean, there may be more?"
Cash blew smoke. "I'd bet on it."
* * *
As Cash promised, they were up at first light and set out for the Tolliver ranch. At Cash's insistence, they approached the ranch house with caution, but there was nobody waiting for them. There was no sign of any struggl
e, either, which heartened Esther. "Danny might have been lured away," she said, hope in her voice.
"Could be. He'd stand a better chance if he went along peaceably."
"But ... what that man said, about seeing their faces ..."
"I know. Let's hope we find them before that happens."
Miles identified the tracks. "Three horses—one from the barn."
"That would be Danny's—they rode out with him on his own horse."
Miles said, "Sounds hopeful."
* * *
Hope rose another notch when they spotted a rider approaching. It was Angelina Nolan and she seemed distressed. "Oh, Marshal Laramie, I'm glad I've caught up with you! I thought I might have to go right into town for the sheriff."
"The sheriff ain't there, Ma'am. What's the matter?" Miles inquired.
She looked at Esther and let out a sigh. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips painted a deep strawberry red. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Tolliver, but I think my husband has gone berserk. He's kidnapped your son!"
"Where are they?" Cash demanded before Esther could respond.
"I'll take you—it isn't far."
"Okay—lead on, Ma'am. But be careful."
Careful was the watchword, all right. Cash couldn't quite square Mrs. Nolan being so helpful that she was willing to thwart her husband's plans. He exchanged a wary glance with Miles, who winked.
About a mile down the trail, the road entered a steep-sided gully that seemed to have a dogleg halfway along.
Cash reined in and turned to Mrs. Nolan, raised an eyebrow.
She pointed, her fingernail tinted red. "They're holding young Danny in a shack on the other end of this gully."
Esther let out a faint gasp of concern.
"You two ladies wait here," Cash said. "We're going to investigate."
Esther said, "Be careful."
Nodding at the two women, Cash and Miles turned their mounts to the gully. Within seconds, they both urged their horses to greater speed, racing through the gully entrance. As they approached the dogleg, both drew their Colt revolvers.
Then they were out of sight.
A number of gunshots blasted out, echoing.
"That's a lot of gunfire," Angelina observed, a frown on her brow.
"Oh, God, I hope Danny's all right," Esther said, eyes fixed on the entrance.
At that moment, Angelina Nolan pulled out her rifle and slammed the butt to the side of Esther's head. Esther slumped forward then fell off her horse.
