Kill Crazy

by William W. Johnstone

  Duff signed the guest register, then came back to the lobby to join the others. Cindy made a point to move so that she was as close to him as she could get.

  “Here, I just met you, and already you are taking me out to dinner,” she said, smiling flirtatiously at Duff.

  “No, ma’am. The city of Chugwater is taking you out to dinner,” Duff corrected.

  “It’s almost the same thing though, isn’t it?” Cindy said. “I mean, we will be eating together.”

  When Marshal Ferrell arrived a few minutes later, he greeted Duff and the others. “Folks, I’m sorry about this, but I just think it is prudent to take precautions. So if you’re all ready, we’ll go have our dinner now, the city’s treat.”

  Ike Thomas was enjoying his two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar windfall. He spent the entire afternoon with one of the girls at the Wild Hog. He played cards for a while, and now he was at the City Café, enjoying a dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and biscuits. He was just about finished with his dinner when he saw Marshal Ferrell, his deputy, and two men and a woman come in.

  “Mr. Lambert,” he heard the marshal say to the owner. “Give these good people anything they ask for. The city will be paying for it.”

  “The city?” Lambert replied, curious by the statement.

  “Yes, indeed. These are our witnesses to the bank holdup. The city is feeding them tonight, and putting them up in the hotel so they will be handy for the preliminary hearing tomorrow.”

  Norman Lambert smiled at the potential size of the meal order. “Mr. Collier,” he said, summoning his maître d’.

  “Yes, sir?” Collier replied, responding to the summons.

  “Take these nice folks back to our New York room and seat them at the banquet table.”

  “Yes, sir,” Collier replied.

  Lambert looked at Duff and the others. “I am sure you will find something on our menu that you will enjoy.”

  The banquet table was in the New York room, which wasn’t really a completely separate room, but rather an alcove from the main dining room. Here, the banquet table was always preset with china, silver, and crystal, and a gleaming chandelier hung over the middle . . . the dangling crystals acting as prisms to glisten in many colors.

  “I’ll have a Caesar salad, shrimp cocktail, steak, potatoes, and champagne,” Cindy said after perusing the menu.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Collier replied.

  “Marshal, are you sure the city is goin’ to pay for all this?” Deputy Pierce asked. “She just ordered the most expensive things on the menu.”

  “The mayor assured me that the city would,” Marshal Ferrell replied.

  The orders given by Duff and Caldwell were considerably more modest. Even though the mayor had told Marshal Ferrell that the city would pay for everything, Ferrell breathed a sigh of relief that the orders of the two men had not been as extravagant as Cindy’s.

  Ferrell and Pierce joined them, also at the city’s expense. This was a treat for Pierce, who rarely got to eat at a place this fancy.

  “He is at the City Café right now,” Vi told Meagan.

  “I wonder why he came to town without telling me?”

  “I don’t think this is a social call. He’s having dinner with Marshal Ferrell, Deputy Pierce, Mr. Caldwell, and that saloon girl from Fiddler’s Green.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t let me finish. He’s having dinner with all of them, and the city is paying for it. Seems they are witnesses, and the marshal wanted them all together until after the preliminary hearing tomorrow.”

  “And you say they are in the café now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed will go to the mountain.”

  “What?” Vi asked, confused by the strange comment.

  “I’m going to the café.”

  “Good evening, Miss Parker,” Collier said when Meagan stepped into the café.

  “Mr. Collier, I’m told that Mr. MacCallister is dining here.”

  “Indeed he is, miss. He is with Marshal Ferrell and the others, back in the New York room.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I shall join them.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Collier said. “I reckon the marshal will have to decide about that, though.”

  “You leave the marshal to me,” Meagan replied with a pretty smile.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Duff stood when he saw Meagan step into the opening between the New York room and the main dining room.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Marshal Ferrell asked.

  “I’m going to invite Miss Parker to dine with us,” Duff said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Deputy Pierce said. “I don’t think the city will pay for her.”

  “The city won’t pay for her, I’m sure,” Cindy asked. “Miss Parker was in the bank, yes, but she left before the robbery.”

  “I’ll nae be askin’ the city to pay for her,” Duff said. “I’ll be for payin’ for her meal myself.”

  Duff moved to a part of the table where there was an empty chair adjacent to him, and as Meagan approached the table, Marshal Ferrell, Deputy Pierce, and Mr. Caldwell stood.

  “Thank you, gentlemen, and Miss Boyce,” Meagan said as she sat in the chair that Duff pulled out for her. “I do hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Nonsense, you are not intruding at all, Miss Parker,” Marshal Ferrell said.

  “Although, I suppose with an outsider among us, we must be careful about what we say,” Cindy said. “I mean, us being witnesses, and all.”

  “The only problem that could cause would be if a potential juror was tainted by listening to evidence before the trial,” Marshal Ferrell said. “And while there have been a few women serving on juries here in Wyoming, the practice has almost been discontinued. And I know for a fact that if it actually goes to trial, Judge Pendarrow will not allow a woman to serve on one of his juries. So I see no problem with Miss Parker being here.”

  “How lovely you look tonight, Miss Boyce,” Meagan said with a disarming smile.

  The frown that had started on Cindy’s face was replaced by a self-conscious smile.

  “You understand, I don’t have nothin’ against you bein’ here an’ all,” she said. “I was just wantin’ to do what is proper, is all.”

  “I quite understand, and you are wise to be concerned. Being a witness in a case like this carries quite a responsibility.”

  “Tell me, Miss Boyce, do you know the defendant?” Marshal Ferrell asked.

  “What?” Cindy gasped. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I told the marshal that I seen you with him back in Fiddler’s Green,” Deputy Pierce said.

  “You probably saw me with a lot of men,” Cindy said. “That’s my job. I’m supposed to be friendly to the men who come so’s they will buy drinks. That’s what Mr. Johnson pays me for.”

  “It just seems that you were a little more than normal friendly with him is all,” Deputy Pierce said.

  Marshal Ferrell smiled. “Now, Willie, that sounds to me like you might be just a little jealous that a pretty girl was spendin’ too much time with someone other than you.”

  The others around the table laughed, and Deputy Pierce blushed.

  “No, it ain’t nothin’ like that it’s just that, well, I . . .”

  Cindy reached out to put her hand on Deputy Pierce’s arm. “Honey, don’t you worry. We’re spendin’ time together now. And after this is over, why don’t you just come on into Fiddler’s Green and I’ll spend as much time with you as you want—that is, as long as you keep buyin’ the drinks.”

  Again, everyone at the table laughed, including even Deputy Pierce.

  After dinner, Marshal Ferrell signed the ticket for the communal dinner, while Duff paid for Meagan’s meal.

  “All right, folks, it’s back to the hotel with you,” the marshal said.

  “I’ll be along later, Marshal,” Duff said. “F
or now, ’tis my intention to escort Miss Parker back to her own place.”

  The expression on Marshal Ferrell’s face indicated that he was against that idea, but as he considered it further, he relented, then smiled.

  “Duff MacCallister, I’ve drawn everyone together for mutual protection. But I know you well enough by now, my friend, to know that if there is anyone who needs no protection, it is you. By all means, escort the lady home at your pleasure.”

  “I hope you weren’t upset that I imposed myself on you tonight,” Meagan said as they strolled from the City Café back toward her dress emporium. They turned off First Street and walked up Clay Avenue, passing under street lamps at the corners of First, Second, and Third streets, moving in and out of the bubbles of light that spilled out onto the boardwalk. They could hear the piano from Fiddler’s Green. Meagan’s dress emporium was right next door to Fiddler’s Green.

  “Of course you dinnae impose. Now, why would you be for saying such a thing?” Duff replied.

  “I don’t know. I thought perhaps I might have come across as a bit too pushy.”

  “Lass, you can nae be too pushy with me,” Duff said. They reached the emporium, then stepped under the awning that extended over the front porch. Here they were in shadows, shielded from view by anyone who might be passing by in the street at the moment. From the saloon next door, they could hear the piano player. Then he began playing a song that several of the cowboys knew, and they started singing along, the music raucous and off-key.

  “There is a fair young lady who lives in this town, She welcomes the cowboys when they come around, Buy her whiskey and beer if you want a little squeeze, Then give her a quarter and she’ll show you her knees.”

  The cowboys laughed at the ribald lyrics and continued to sing, each verse getting more ribald than the one before.

  Duff and Meagan looked at each other for a long, wordless moment. Then he kissed her, at first gently, showing both his affection and his respect for her. But the kiss continued, and as Duff felt this soft, beautiful woman press herself against him, he was powerless to hold onto his own sense of propriety. Her lips parted under his, and her tongue darted into his mouth. His blood turned to molten steel and he knew there would be no turning back. The kiss lasted for a long, drawn-out moment—a moment that neither of them wanted to end.

  Then a strange thing happened. As if planned, the music from the saloon next door changed. No longer was it the loud and raucous caterwauling of many. Now the music was soft and melodious, being sung by only four voices, which blended in perfect harmony.

  “I’ll never forget you, my sweet Darlene,

  With roses in your hair so fine.

  When I come home again, my Darlene,

  Now and forever you’ll be mine.”

  “Duff, must you return to the hotel right away?” Meagan asked in a quiet voice that was husky with desire. “Couldn’t you come up and stay with me for a while?”

  “Lass, if I come up, I fear I can nae trust myself to be the gentleman you think I am.”

  Meagan tugged gently at his hand.

  “Come,” she said.

  “Meagan, do you know what you are asking?” Meagan smiled at him, and even though they were standing in the shadow under the awning, he could see her eyes gleaming with the light of a distant street lamp.

  “Aye, Duff,” she answered, smiling as she mocked his accent. She reached up to trace the tip of her finger across his lips. “I know exactly what I am asking.” She leaned into him and they kissed again.

  Next door, the music continued, as if the quartet were now singing just for Duff and Meagan.

  “Darlene, I’ll never, ever let you go;

  No other love will I ever know.”

  Tugging him gently by the hand, Meagan started up the stairs with Duff right behind her. She unlocked the door to her apartment, then led him into her bedroom. There she lit a candle, the single taper lighting the distance between them. Then, without once looking away in shame or embarrassment, Meagan began to undress.

  Downstairs, the music continued. Outside, on the street, a horse passed by, the hollow clump of its hoofbeats echoing back from the buildings that flanked Clay Avenue. A clock chimed in Meagan’s bedroom, and in the distance a coyote howled.

  Duff and Meagan were oblivious to all sounds and intrusions. They had built a cocoon around them, constructing a world in which only they existed.

  Johnny Taylor and the others left Bordeaux at dawn the next morning, then stopped for a little palaver when they were less than two miles from Chugwater.

  “You are sure the witnesses are all in the hotel?” Johnny asked.

  “Yeah,” Ike said. “Like I told you, I was in the café last night when they all come in and had supper. It was the marshal and the deputy, some real big feller, the banker, and some woman.”

  “The big man is Duff MacCallister, the other fella’s name is Caldwell. He was the bank teller,” Johnny said. “And the woman’s name is Cindy Boyce.”

  “You know all their names?” Leroy asked.

  “Yeah, I do. It’s always good to know who you are dealin’ with,” Johnny said. “Most especially if I’m goin’ to get my brother out of jail.”

  “If Emile hadn’t shot that other bank clerk, like as not we wouldn’t be in this trouble right now,” Short said.

  “Are you saying that if we just stole the money they’d let it go and nothing would ever come of it?” Johnny asked.

  “No, I ain’t a-sayin’ that. But what I am a-sayin’ is, if Emile hadn’t shot him, we’d be off plannin’ our next job right now. Instead, we’re hangin’ around tryin’ to rescue Emile, who got his ownself into trouble in the first place. I mean, we said before we ever even started on this that we wasn’t supposed to shoot nobody.”

  “That ain’t quite the right tellin’ of it, Al,” Bart Evans said. “You was out back with the horses, so you didn’t see what happened. The fella that Emile shot reached down under the counter and brung up a scattergun. Like as not, if Emile hadn’t ’a shot him, that banker woulda took the head off one of us.”

  “Which one?” Short asked.

  “I don’t know. Coulda been mine for all I know. But the thing is, he didn’t kill none of us, ’cause Emile kilt him first. Seems to me like we, all of us, owe it to Emile to get him out . . . seein’ as he saved our lives ’n’ all.”

  “He didn’t save my life,” Short said.

  “Well, he saved mine, and that’s good enough,” Evans said.

  “We’re goin’ to rescue him from the jail, and that’s all there is to it,” Johnny said.

  “How are we goin’ to do that? Have you got ’ny plans?” Ike asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  “If I was you, I think ’bout the first thing I would want to do is take care of the witnesses,” Ike said. “I mean, all three of ’em bein’ together like they are, it shouldn’t be that hard. And if they got no witnesses, even if your brother goes to trial, they won’t be able to find nothin’ on him.”

  “Yeah,” Johnny said. “And if we do that, we can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. MacCallister is with them, and I want that son of a bitch dead.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It was just after eight o’clock in the morning when Deputy Pierce came down to the hotel to escort the three witnesses to the city courthouse where the preliminary hearing was to be held. Duff was waiting in the lobby when he arrived.

  “Good morning, Mr. MacCallister. You’re up early this morning,” he said.

  “Aye, ready to take care of my civic duty,” Duff replied.

  “Have you seen the others?”

  “Nae.”

  “I’ll get the clerk to roust them up,” Pierce said. He walked over to the front desk.

  “I wonder if you could send someone up to fetch Miss Boyce and Mr. Caldwell for me?”

  “Yes, sir, I’d be glad to,” the clerk replied. He wrote a couple of room numbers on a piece of paper, then called th
e bellboy, a youngster of about sixteen. “Tommy, please go knock on the doors to these two rooms,” he said.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Helms.”

  “Deputy, can I speak to you for a moment?” Helms asked after Tommy left.

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “It’s about the room for Mr. MacCallister.”

  “What about his room?”

  “Well, sir, I’m not sure if it would be right for me to charge the city for it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He didn’t sleep in his room last night, Deputy. He never even picked up the key.”

  Pierce looked over at Duff and, remembering that he had escorted Meagan Parker home last night, smiled.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said.

  “But here is the problem,” Helms continued.

  “He did sign the registration book, you see. And Mr. Calhoun . . . he owns the hotel as you know . . . well, he keeps track of the money by the names in the registration book. And seein’ as Mr. MacCallister’s name is there, I don’t see how I can’t charge him. Not without paying for the room myself.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Helms. The city agreed to pay for the room. We didn’t make any provision that he had to sleep there. Go ahead and charge for it.”

  “Yes, sir, Deputy, if you say so. That will make it a mite easier on me—I mean, dealin’ with Mr. Calhoun and all.”

  “I hope it doesn’t take them a long time to get ready. I should have come over earlier to fetch them,” Pierce said, looking nervously toward the clock.

  Bernie Caldwell was the first one to come downstairs. They had to wait a little longer for Cindy Boyce to make her appearance.

  “You’ll nae be needing us after this hearing, will you, Deputy?” Duff asked.