Dark Territory

by Terrence McCauley

  “Didn’t come here for an apology, Walter. I came here for the coward who threatened my life. I’m not going to ask again.”

  A young man sprang up from his chair at the same table where Underhill had been sitting. “I ain’t no coward, damn you, and I meant every word I done said.”

  Mackey faced the scrawny man. The right side of his jaw was beginning to swell, no doubt the result of his run-in with Pappy. Given the stubble and mangy hair, he gauged him to be about twenty, but small for his age. “You Trammel?”

  “Damned right I am. You took our guns, boy, and I aim to—”

  Mackey punched Trammel in the throat. Not hard enough to knock him down, but hard enough to shut him up. He staggered, gasping for breath while Mackey grabbed his collar. “You’ve done enough talking for one night, boy. You’re coming with me.”

  Underhill moved to block his way. “Just hold on, Aaron. I told you I handled it, and I was sorry. I shouldn’t have let the boy run his mouth as long as he did, so if there’s anyone to blame here, it’s me, not him.”

  Mackey grabbed Trammel’s collar tighter. “He’s under arrest for disturbing the peace and being drunk and disorderly. You can bail him out in the morning.”

  Underhill didn’t budge, but lowered his voice as he said, “Aaron, I’m asking as a friend.”

  Mackey leveled a shot into Trammel’s kidney. This time, it was hard enough to make the man crumple, but the sheriff had a good grip on his collar. “Get out of my way, Walt. I won’t ask again.”

  Someone in the saloon said, “You’re lucky we ain’t armed, sheriff.”

  Mackey hit Trammel again. This time, his bladder went.

  The sheriff looked in the direction from where the voice had come. “Anyone else have something to say? I’m sure Trammel would love to hear it.” He made a point of looking each man in the eye. None of them met his glare.

  Underhill turned, but did not step out of Mackey’s path. “Mr. Grant ain’t going to like this, Aaron. He won’t like it one damned bit.”

  “I don’t give a shit what Grant likes. He’s not mayor yet. And when he is, I doubt I’ll give a shit then, either.”

  Mackey shoved Trammel out the door and onto the boardwalk. He collapsed into the mud of Davis Avenue.

  As Mackey followed his prisoner outside, he heard Underhill say, “It didn’t have to be like this, Aaron. It could’ve gone a different way.”

  Mackey knew Underhill might’ve been right. But he saw no reason to respond. He grabbed Trammel by the collar and pulled him along back to the jailhouse.

  Chapter 26

  Mackey threw Trammel in the cell and locked the door. He came back out to the office and dumped the keys on his desk, before closing the heavy wooden shutters across the building’s only window.

  Billy had just finished giving his Sharps a good cleaning. “You know this is only going to make things worse with Grant, don’t you?”

  “That son of a bitch in there spoke out against me.” Mackey took down the Winchester so he could commence cleaning it. “I can’t let that stand. Not now. Not ever. And I don’t think it made things with Grant worse because they can’t get much worse.”

  “You punched him in the face and kicked the shit out of one of his men in public, Aaron. Believe me, it can get worse.”

  Mackey emptied the cartridges from the Winchester, made sure it was unloaded, and began to clean it. He would do the Peacekeeper next. He had a feeling he would need both before long.

  “I’m going to need you to go out tonight,” Mackey told him. “Find Lagrange. See if he’s been able to find out how many gunmen Grant’s got.”

  “Hate to disobey you.” Billy reloaded the Sharps. “But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone. I counted fifteen guns in town, and that’s only what I saw. Could be twice that many for all I know. What if they decide they don’t like the idea of you arresting their friend? After the liquor hits them, they’re apt to show up here armed to the teeth. From what you said, Underhill might even be leading them. You had to protect your reputation, and he’s got to protect his own.” Billy slid the last shell into the Sharps. “Whole thing is just one big mess.”

  “This has been brewing for six months now.” Mackey ran the cleaning rod through the Winchester’s barrel. “It was bound to come to a head sometime. With the election coming up, something’s got to give.”

  “And it sure as hell ain’t going to be you,” Billy mumbled.

  A quiet knock came at the door.

  Mackey set his rifle aside and pulled the Peacemaker. “Who is it?”

  A woman’s voice said, “It’s Jessica from the hotel. I have some messages for you.”

  Mackey’s breath caught. In all of the commotion, he had never thought of Katherine. He had never thought about how all of this would affect her.

  And she was all alone, with no one to protect her from Grant and his men.

  Billy brought the Sharps to his shoulder and aimed it at the door, just in case Jessica hadn’t come alone. “Come in.”

  She opened the door and rushed to Mackey, oblivious to the fifty-caliber rifle aimed at her head. Billy shut the door behind her and threw the bolt.

  “Sheriff,” she said, “I’ve got notes from Mrs. Campbell and Mr. Lagrange. They both told me it was important for me to get these to you as soon as possible.”

  She handed him two sealed envelopes. He had no idea which message was from Katherine and which was from Lagrange, so he just took one and opened it.

  Fortunately, it was from Katherine, as he would know her handwriting anywhere:

  I have seen Grant’s men gathering behind the hotel. I counted no fewer than thirty riders on horseback. All of them armed. They liveried their mounts in the Northend Stable before going their separate ways. I have no idea where they went, but they broke up into different groups. Please be careful, my love.

  “Katherine counts thirty men,” Mackey told Billy. “They’ve got their horses at the Northend Livery, and they’ve spread all over town.”

  “Too quick to be related to that business at the saloon just now.”

  “Grant probably sent for them after my run-in with him earlier. Guess trying to get the bastard fired didn’t sit too well with him.”

  He opened the second note, this one from Lagrange. His handwriting was difficult to make out, but Mackey made it out clear enough.

  Sheriff—

  I’ve discovered that Grant has hired approximately forty gunmen, with the last twenty to have arrived in town over the past week. I make this assumption based on what I have overheard in the various saloons I have visited throughout the day. Many are expected to join the new police department Grant plans to begin when he is elected mayor. I have no idea what he has planned for them in the meantime, but at least thirty have stabled their horses just behind the hotel.

  I will remain here and await further instruction.

  Robert Lagrange

  Billy said, “Judging by the look on your face, I’m assuming that’s not good news.”

  “Lagrange said we’re up against about forty guns altogether.” To Jessica, he said, “Do you think Sandborne is ready to ride yet?”

  The young woman’s mood brightened. “He’s gotten a lot better since you’ve been gone, sheriff. His ribs weren’t broken, just bruised. Except for his nose being tender, he’s almost to his old self. Yes, I think he can ride.”

  “Good.” He spoke the words as he wrote them down. “I want Sandborne to introduce himself to Mr. Lagrange and ask him to help guard the hotel while he’s gone.”

  “Joshua’s not planning on going anywhere.”

  “Yes, he is.” Mackey kept writing. “I need him to ride out to the Boudreaux place and tell the boys I need them urgently. They’re to bring all the guns and ammunition they can carry, then come straight here to the jailhouse.”

  He put the note back in the envelope and handed it to Jessica. “Be careful getting back to the hotel.”

  But the
young woman didn’t move. “You didn’t write back to Mrs. Campbell. Women get angry when their men don’t write back. She’s awfully worried about you, sheriff.”

  Mackey smiled for the first time since he had seen Katherine standing alone on the thoroughfare earlier that day. “Tell her to help Mr. Lagrange. And tell her I love her.”

  Jessica giggled as she made the envelope disappear in one of the many folds of her dress. “Women like hearing that. They like it even more when it’s sincere. I’ll give them both the message.”

  Billy opened the door for her, then locked it after she left. If he was worried about their prospects, he did a good job of hiding it. “Forty-to-one odds, Aaron.”

  “We’ve faced worse.”

  “We were mounted cavalry then, on the open range. Not defending a fixed position with just two men and a cantankerous prisoner.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Mackey went back to cleaning the Winchester. “The odds are twenty-to-one if you count the both of us. Ten-to-one once the Boudreaux brothers get here. Hell, even better if you throw Sandborne and Lagrange in the mix.”

  “You’ll post Sandborne and Lagrange at the hotel to protect Katherine. You’ll die before you let anything happen to her.”

  Mackey withdrew the cleaning rod and looked down the barrel of the Winchester. “We’re all going to die, Billy. Just a matter of how and why.”

  Billy looked back to where the cells were. “That son of a bitch worth it?”

  “No, but this town sure as hell is. Besides, if we go down, we’re going to take a good number of them with us.”

  “Alamo’s down in Texas,” Billy observed. “I’d like it to stay there, if you know what I mean.”

  Mackey set to reloading his rifle. “I was thinking more about the Battle of San Jacinto.”

  Chapter 27

  “Aaron,” Billy whispered. “Wake up.”

  Mackey almost jumped out of his chair. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. He had drunk so much coffee after the Boudreauxs had arrived in town that he thought he would be awake for a week. He must have been more tired than he thought.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Underhill’s out there with about twenty riders. Haven’t made a sound since they showed up a couple of minutes ago. They’re just standing there facing the jail.”

  Mackey got up from his chair. “They armed?”

  “Rifle butts on their legs,” Billy reported. “All of them repeaters, too.”

  “Underhill, too?”

  “Rifle’s still holstered and so is his pistol, but there’s no question he’s in charge.”

  Mackey didn’t doubt it, either. Underhill had been through too much to play second fiddle to any man, unless that man was Grant.

  “Where are the brothers?”

  “The Boudreauxs slept on the construction site across the street right where you wanted them,” Billy said. “I’d be surprised if they didn’t have those men under their guns right now.”

  Mackey would’ve been surprised, too. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  He got up from the chair and pulled on his coat, then took his Winchester from the rack. He tugged his hat on his head.

  “Want me out there with you?” Billy asked.

  “I’ll go out and face them alone. Lock the door behind me and cover me from the window. If I go down, shoot Underhill if he’s still standing. The brothers’ll do some damage from up top.”

  “I don’t think it’ll come to that.” Billy unlatched the door. “If they’d come for blood, they would’ve started shooting by now.”

  Mackey wasn’t so sure, but he was about to find out. “Just lock the door behind me.”

  Which was exactly what Billy did.

  * * *

  Mackey saw the twenty blank faces on horseback as he stepped out onto the boardwalk. Every one of them had as dead a pair of eyes as the next. He had no idea where Grant had found this bunch, or maybe it had been Underhill’s doing, but none of them were amateurs like Trammel. Each man had clean weapons and hard miles behind them. They looked neither scared nor cocky. They looked like men who had been paid to do a job and knew how to do it.

  No, these weren’t friends of Trammel’s. These men were professionals.

  Underhill spoke from the lead horse. “Morning, Aaron.”

  “Walt.”

  Underhill glanced at the jailhouse window. “Morning, Billy.”

  “Same to you.”

  “Got that Sharps aimed in my direction, I suppose?”

  “Ready to turn you into dust if you even glance at your pistol, Walter.”

  Underhill looked at Mackey. “Best thing about Deputy Sunday is his honesty.”

  “Only thing better than his honesty is his aim.”

  Underhill looked around. “Guess the Boudreaux boys are around here, too.”

  “That’d be a good guess,” Mackey said. “What brings you and your friends out so early on a beautiful morning?”

  “I’m here to pick up Trammel. Here to pay the fine or whatever else I have to do to get him out of there.”

  Mackey looked at the ten riders on either side of him. “Didn’t need to bring so many to bail him out.”

  “No, and I didn’t have to order them to stow their horses at the livery behind Katie’s hotel when they rode in yesterday, either. Pretty stupid way to keep a secret from you, isn’t it?”

  Mackey had wondered about why they’d done that. Now he knew. He wasn’t happy about this, either.

  Underhill went on. “Mr. Grant wanted a show of force so you’d see he’s got men to back him. Since he pays me, that’s what I’ve done. And show’s all it is unless you make it more than that.”

  Mackey looked over the men again. “This all of them?”

  “Nope,” Underhill said. “This ain’t even half, and don’t ask me more because I ain’t gonna tell you. All I’ll tell you is that it’s more. A lot more. Mr. Grant wanted you to get a notion of what you’re up against. He says he wants to reason with you before things go further than they already have.”

  “He said a lot,” Mackey noted. “He made you memorize all that before he sent this parade over?”

  “Something’s easy to remember when you agree with it. Mr. Grant doesn’t want trouble, Aaron. Neither do I. And neither do you. Not this kind of trouble. You’ve made your point and stood your ground. No shame in letting us bail out Trammel legally so I can give that troublesome son of a bitch the proper beating he deserves.”

  Mackey looked over the riders. “I don’t see Trammel’s two friends with you.”

  “Harrah and Clarke are too hotheaded for a difficult parlay like this, especially where their trail buddy is involved. The men I brought with me today are professionals. Trammel, Harrah, and Clarke are a different sort.”

  Mackey had only known Underhill for about six months, but what he knew of the man, he knew well. He could tell the Texan was sincere, which bothered Mackey. He decided now was the time to ask him a pointed question, in front of all the hired guns he’d brought into town. “Grant tell you about his role in the train robberies?”

  Underhill’s brow furrowed. “No. Why would he? They were company trains, but happened south of here. They’ve got nothing to do with Dover Station.”

  “That’s what you think.” He let the thought linger long enough, hoping the seed would take root in Underhill’s mind. The big man was brave, but a touch slow for a lawman, at least in Mackey’s opinion. “If you want Trammel, the fine’s fifty dollars. Pay it, and I’ll let you inside to collect him. But you and only you, Walt. Anyone else so much as flinches and the ball goes up.”

  Underhill told his men to stay where they were as he stepped down from the saddle and tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the jailhouse. He remained in the thoroughfare so he and Mackey were at an equal height when he handed him fifty dollars in banknotes. It was a subtle courtesy that Mackey noticed. “Fifty dollars is a mighty steep price for a few minor i
nfractions.”

  “Caught him loitering in front of the hotel and brandishing a weapon in public before my meeting with Grant yesterday. Fines pile up for a boy like Trammel.”

  Underhill kept his voice low when he said, “It’d probably be cheaper just to shoot him now and be done with it.”

  Mackey stepped back and knocked on the jailhouse door. “Open up, Billy. Walt’s paid Trammel’s fine.”

  The bolt slid back and the door swung inward as Mackey backed into the jailhouse and beckoned Walter inside.

  To his men, Underhill said, “Stay here and don’t cause any trouble. We’re here to get Trammel and be on our way. Won’t be but a minute.”

  Underhill ducked his head and turned sideways like he always did whenever he entered the jail, though Mackey noted he didn’t need to do either. He was a big man, but not nearly big enough where he had trouble fitting through the doorway. He closed the door behind him. Billy bolted it shut.

  Mackey sat at his desk as Billy went back to let out Trammel. “Hope your boys out there don’t get nervous about your well-being.”

  Underhill took off his hat. “I doubt it. Each of them thinks they should have the top spot in this organization. Trouble is, none of them are wrong. They’re all top hands, Aaron. Smart, levelheaded, and fair. Mr. Grant didn’t go hiring any roughnecks when he put together this bunch.”

  “Except for Trammel, Harrah, and Clarke.”

  “Something’s always bound to crawl beneath the door when you spill sugar on the floor.” He looked over at the oven. “Mind if I grab a sip of coffee? Billy always made a fine pot.”

  “Help yourself.”

  Underhill tossed his hat on the desk, got himself a mug, and poured some coffee. He drank the brew and closed his eyes. “Damn, I’ve missed that.”

  Mackey took the fifty dollars Underhill had paid him and put it in a deposit envelope for the bank. “You were always welcome here, Walter. No need to have been a stranger.”