“Nope,” Underhill said. “Came up here to give you boys fair warning about what’ll happen tomorrow following the election.”
Mackey kept looking at the gravediggers work. “All right.”
“You’ve probably figured out by now that Grant’s going to impose some big changes the second after he takes the oath of office. He’s going to announce them before the town in his speech tomorrow.”
“Let me guess,” Mackey said. “You’re going to be the chief of the new police department, and he’s abolishing the sheriff’s office.”
Underhill held on to his hat in the face of a hard wind. “Didn’t know he told you already.”
“He didn’t,” Mackey said. “Just know how the man thinks. Your boss isn’t exactly subtle.” He looked down at the fresh graves. “As you can see for yourself.”
If Underhill disagreed, he held it well. “That means my office will be the new law in this part of the territory. It’s not the way I want it, but I don’t have any say in the matter.”
“Sure you do,” Billy said. “You could refuse the order. You’re elected, same as him.”
“I thought about that,” Underhill admitted. “Thought about it long and hard. He’d just put one of the others in my place, someone who might not be as partial to you boys as I am.”
Mackey held no ill will toward Underhill. He had enjoyed being a lawman in Texas and would be a fool to give up the chance to be one again. That did not make him like it any better. “Just say what you came to say, Walt, and be done with it.”
Underhill obliged. “That means anything you do against Mr. Grant or Mr. Van Dorn or any other citizen of this town will be against the law. That’ll put you boys up against me and my men. I’d like to avoid that if possible.”
“We’d hate for you to be in that position,” Mackey said. “We sincerely would.”
Underhill looked down at the graves. “I know I’d have to kill you, and I wouldn’t want to do that.”
“I know you’d try,” Mackey said. “And we both know you’d fail.”
“One-on-one, maybe. But it wouldn’t be one-on-one. It’d be against me and thirty men I have with me. You boys are hard cases, but I’ve never seen two men take on thirty.”
Billy grinned. “That’s because you’ve never seen us work.”
Mackey didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. “A lot can change in a day, Walter. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”
Underhill toed the ground with his boot. “Damned bad time of year to be up here under any circumstances. Hope it’s the last time we have to be here. Any of us.”
The Texan pulled off his glove and held out his hand to Mackey. “I wish you luck, Aaron. I wish you peace.”
Mackey looked up at the big man before shaking his hand. “Likewise, Walt.”
Then Underhill held out his hand to Billy. “You too proud to shake my hand?”
Billy hesitated, then shook it. “Be seeing you, Walt. Get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Underhill put his glove back on and strode back down the hill at his own pace. Mackey and Billy turned to watch him leave.
Billy hawked and spat. “Be a shame to have to kill that man.”
“Yeah. It would.”
“But we’d kill him if we had to, wouldn’t we?”
A gust of wind buffeted them, but Mackey did not move. “Yeah. We would.”
Both men looked up the road when they heard the jangling of a team of horses pulling a stagecoach headed into town.
“Wonder if that’s the stage we’ve been waiting on,” Billy asked.
Mackey pulled up the collar on his coat. It seemed to be getting colder by the minute. “Let’s hope so. For all our sakes.”
Chapter 32
Sheriff Aaron Mackey and Deputy Billy Sunday watched their office slowly die from the jailhouse porch. Mackey rocked slowly back and forth in his rocking chair, despite the cold.
Billy stood against the post, his back to the wind, building a cigarette. “Despite the cold, at least we have company.”
Mackey paid no mind to the four riflemen in front of the Municipal Building across the street. The wooden scaffolding had been removed to reveal a red brick and iron structure that bore more than a passing resemblance to a castle. Marble stairs led up to a wide entrance where two large copper lamps stood guard on either side.
The four riflemen had not taken their eyes off the sheriff and his deputy since they’d come out of the jailhouse half an hour before. “At least we’re well protected.”
Billy had glanced at them once when they had first walked out onto the boardwalk. That had been enough. “Man on the far right’s got a lazy eye. Probably can’t shoot for shit.”
Mackey had noticed that, too. “Let’s hope we don’t have to find out. Besides, the show’s about to start.”
The company’s carpenters had erected a makeshift podium in the middle of Front Street, just outside the Tin Horn Saloon. Most of the town had braved the cold wind to see the future of their town being born before their very eyes.
Another canvass banner buffeted against the wind above the podium, declaring:
Congratulations, MAYOR GRANT!
Congratulations, COMM. UNDERHILL!
CONGRATULATIONS, DOVER STATION!
James Grant took the podium to thunderous applause. Men threw their hats into the air and ladies cheered. The future was at hand.
Mackey pulled up his collar against the cold air. “You ready to be unemployed?”
“Already unpinned my star to throw at the son of a bitch when he comes to collect them.”
Mackey looked at the spectacle unfolding up the street. Grant motioning for the crowd to be quiet even while he soaked in the applause. “Got the sign ready?”
Billy nodded. “Whenever you are.”
Mackey stood up and went inside. “Best pull it out now while we can. I’ve got a feeling we’ll be needing it sooner rather than later.”
Together, they dragged the wooden sign wrapped in canvas onto the boardwalk and resumed their spots just as Mayor James Grant began his speech.
“Today is a grand day in the history of Dover Station!” He was wearing a heavy coat with a fur collar, a sash across his chest with “Our Mayor” embroidered upon it and a brand-new silk top hat all the way from San Francisco atop his head. “I am humbled to have been formally sworn in as your mayor.”
Another round of cheers and hat tossing followed, but Grant continued. “I know many of you remember the way things used to be. The way Dover once was. The crime. The hardship. The dismay of frontier life. But I am fortunate to only know this town as a place that has stared adversity in the face and refused to look away. A town that is finally coming into its own and embraces the future with open arms. Your faith in me is proof of that belief, and I assure you that your faith is well placed, for I believe the future of this town is brighter than any city on either coast. Why, given our current rate of growth, I see no reason why we can’t become as big as Detroit one day or perhaps even Chicago.”
Another round of thunderous applause brought another spit from Billy. “Anybody bother telling that son of a bitch both of those cities are on the water?”
Mackey smiled. “What is it that Harrington always says? Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”
“But I am not blind to some of the troubles we have faced, even since I began working for the Dover Station Company. Like all of you, I have seen what can happen when we allow lawlessness to creep into a place. The slum of Tent City and the crime it has bred. The inability of an overworked and understaffed sheriff’s office too small to handle the challenges of a small town on the rise. We admire Sheriff Mackey and Deputy Sunday for their valiant defense of the town when duty called and we will forever be in their debt. But we cannot afford to allow gratitude to take the place of efficiency.”
A grumbling went through the crowd as Grant continued. “You’ve all seen what I’m talking
about. The vile Marxist influence that was allowed to breed unchecked and corrupt our workers. The massacre of the Bollard twins and the attempt on the life of Mr. Ross by the coward Eddows were merely symptoms of the lawlessness that has taken our town by the throat. When I saw how powerless the sheriff was to prevent crime in our fair town, I knew I had to act. Not just as an executive of the Dover Station Company, but also as a servant to the people that made this endeavor so successful. We can no longer tolerate the wanton violence we have seen in our streets the last few days where marauding gunmen felt they could attack our people without consequence.”
Mackey heard his father’s voice cut him off. “The bastards paid for it, didn’t they?”
Many in the crowd agreed as Grant recovered quickly. “But I dream of a town where such men would not dare set foot in Dover Station, much less assault our hardworking citizenry. That is why, as my first act as mayor, I am abolishing the office of the sheriff and replacing it with an organization far better suited to address the challenges of a growing town. Today, you elected Walter Underhill as your police commissioner. As of today, he will be in charge of a police force of thirty trained and well-armed men prepared to enforce the laws of our fair town. Our new Municipal Building will be completely finished in a couple of months and will stand as a beacon of justice that will be the envy of the territory.”
More grumbling rose from the crowd as Brian Mason handed a book up to Grant, who placed it at the podium. “I am signing the law abolishing the office of the sheriff before all of you now and hope you will join me in thanking Sheriff Mackey and his people for their years of service to Dover Station.”
He produced a pen from a shelf in the podium and promptly signed the book, before handing it back to Mason and continuing with his speech.
Billy spat into the street. “Guess that makes it official.”
Mackey eyed the riflemen across the street. Now there were ten of them. All in brown dusters and brown hats. All sporting brand-new Winchesters, too. “Yeah, I suppose it does.”
* * *
When Mayor Grant was done, he ended his speech with a flourish and held both hands up to the crowd. He was met with cheers, though decidedly fewer than when he had first taken the podium.
Mason brought over a horse, a speckled gray, and Grant moved into the saddle without stepping down from the podium.
He brought his mount around and slowly trotted down Front Street. Underhill and twenty riders fell in behind him, leading a grand procession toward the Municipal Building and, Mackey wagered, to formally evict them from the premises.
The sheriff remained seated and his deputy remained against the post as Grant brought his horse to a dead stop in front of the jail. Underhill and the twenty riders fell in at a straight line behind him.
Grant looked like he was about to float right out of the saddle. “Good, you’re both here.”
Mackey kept rocking. “Morning, Jimmy. Hell of a speech.”
“Since you heard it, it saves me the time of explaining it to you. Your services are no longer required, Mr. Mackey. Yours, either, Mr. Sunday. So I demand that you hand over your stars and promptly get the hell off town property.” He brought his mount forward and held out a gloved hand. “I want you to hand them to me right now.”
The twenty riders tensed as Mackey stopped rocking and slowly stood. The sound of ten Winchesters levering rounds into their chambers echoed across Front Street from the Municipal Building.
Billy eased off the post and placed his star in Grant’s hand.
Mackey did the same.
Grant looked down at the symbols of authority and dumped them over his shoulder into the mud of the thoroughfare. “It didn’t have to end this way, Aaron. We could have reached an accord, you and me. We could have found a way to end this honorably, but you forced my hand. You bucked me at every turn, and now you’ll pay the price for it. You’ve lost again, just like you always do. Now, get the hell out of here before I have you shot for trespassing, you son of a bitch.”
Mackey and Billy looked at each other. Then, Mackey lowered himself back into the rocking chair. Billy went back to leaning against the post, smoking his cigarette.
Grant grinned. “Defiant to the last. Good. I was hoping you’d play it this way. Gives me the satisfaction of ending it once and for all.”
He looked to his left. “Commissioner Underhill. Have your men present arms.”
Underhill wheeled his sorrel past Grant. “Damn it, Aaron. I warned you about this.”
Grant went scarlet. “You have your orders, Underhill. Tell your men to present arms or I’ll do it for you.”
Mackey kept rocking. “Don’t worry about it, Walt. His order isn’t legal anyway.”
“Not legal?” Grant’s eyes bulged. “Not legal? Are you out of your mind? You saw me abolish this office. Of course, my order is legal.”
“It’d be legal if we were trespassing,” Billy said. “Except we’re not. You are.”
Grant began to laugh. Eventually, the twenty men behind him began to laugh as well.
But Underhill didn’t laugh. He didn’t even move. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean,” Mackey said, “is that all of you boys are trespassing. But I’m inclined to let it go, given that today is a special day and all.”
Mackey slowly pulled aside the lapel of his coat to reveal a silver star. It read: UNITED STATES MARSHAL.
Grant stopped laughing.
Mackey nodded toward Billy. “He’s got one, too, only his says ‘Deputy U.S. Marshal.’”
Billy moved his lapel, showing his star, and winked at Grant.
The mayor and his horse stepped back like he’d been slapped. “Impossible!”
“Came in on the coach yesterday afternoon.” Mackey re-pinned the star onto his lapel. “Brand new, too. Guess I’ve got you to thank for it. All that talking you did about me being the Hero of Adobe Flats and the Savior of Dover Station impressed the hell out of some folks in Washington. Guess it gave them the idea that they needed to have a better federal presence in this part of the world, what with statehood coming and all. Like you said, mayor, Dover Station’s a town on the rise.”
Billy pulled the tarp off the sign. It read:
U.S. MARSHAL DISTRICT OFFICE
MONTANA TERRITORY
Grant gripped the reins tightly. “Rice did this, didn’t he?”
“He spoke to some people,” Mackey admitted, “but the decision came from Washington.”
He pitched forward in the rocker and stood up. The twenty riders behind Grant moved their mounts backward.
Mackey looked at Underhill. “Commissioner, I’d like a word in private with the mayor here. I’d appreciate it if you and your men could go about your duties. I’m sure you have plenty to do.”
Underhill turned to his men. “Let’s get these mounts situated in the livery and get to work. We’ve got a town to protect now. Move out.”
The twenty riders filed to their right and rode in a single file at a lope. The ten riflemen in front of the Municipal Building remained where they were. Underhill said, “If you boys don’t have anything to do, I’ll find you something.”
One by one, they lowered their Winchesters and went back into the Municipal Building.
Underhill faced Grant and touched the brim of his hat. “Mayor Grant.” Then he looked at Mackey. “Marshal. Deputy.” He wheeled his big sorrel around and rode off behind his men.
Billy took his cue and moved inside the jail.
Mackey stood facing Grant. Only a few feet separated them. He could feel the heat of Grant’s hate despite the cold air.
Mackey enjoyed the moment. “Now, before you say anything, you’d best remember that it’s illegal to threaten a federal officer.”
“That star,” Grant spat. “That sign? They don’t mean a damned thing. This doesn’t end anything, you hear?”
“No, it doesn’t. In fact, it’s just the beginning, because I’m not done with you yet. I’m here to
stay, and I’ve got the full weight of the federal government and your boss’s boss behind me. I know you stirred up trouble in this town. I know you were the one behind those robberies. I know you got three good people killed, and I know you tried to kill me.”
Grant leaned forward in the saddle. “Prove it, you bastard.”
“Can’t yet, but this star gives me all the time I need. I’m not going anywhere, Grant, and neither are you. I’m going to sit right here in this office and wait for you to make a mistake, because you will. Your type always does. And when you do, I’m going to lock you in that cell until they hang you.”
Mackey knew Grant would have gone for his gun if he’d had one. But as he was unarmed, his only weapon was his mouth. “Good luck on your appointment, marshal. You’re going to need it.”
He violently jerked the reins and heeled his horse down Front Street, riding as fast as he could away from the jailhouse and from Mackey.
Mackey smiled as he watched him leave.
He walked back into the jailhouse and Billy handed him a mug of coffee. “You know, he’ll probably turn this around in his favor. Take credit for the marshal service putting an office right here in Dover Station.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. That’s his way.”
“Just like staying put is ours.”
Mackey clinked mugs with his deputy. “Damned right.”
Keep reading for a special excerpt of the first book in the Sheriff Aaron Mackey series . . .
WHERE THE BULLETS FLY
A SHERIFF AARON MACKEY WESTERN
by TERRENCE MCCAULEY
Surrounded by ranches, farms, and precious metal mines, the town of Dover Station, Montana, is ripe for the plucking. It’s up to Sheriff Aaron Mackey to keep the peace—and keep the dregs of humanity from trying to make a killing . . .
WHERE THE BULLETS FLY,
VENGEANCE REIGNS
If anyone can smell an investment opportunity, it’s railroad men and big-city bankers. They’re not the kind of folks that Sheriff Mackey is used to dealing with. But greed is greed, and if anyone knows how money can drive men to murder, it’s the sheriff of a boomtown like Dover Station. But when Mackey is forced to gun down a pair of saloon rats, it brings a powder keg of trouble—with a quick-burning fuse of vengeance named Alexander Darabont. This bloodthirsty psychopath wants to kill the sheriff for killing his buddies. And he plans to get his revenge using a highly combustible mix of fire, fear, and dynamite . . .
Dark Territory Page 26
