Matthew watched as she led the young man around the back door into a kitchen area where a tub was already set up and a kettle steamed with hot water. Soon, he heard the sound of splashing and a low, feminine chuckle.
A half-hour later, Matthew again heard pounding at the front door. Looking up, he saw Antoine and Chloe exchange glances and then turn to him, nodding; they had informed him that a harsh knocking usually heralded the gangsters’ arrival.
The sheriff hunkered down in his chair, trying to appear inebriated. Roy did the same on the other side of the makeshift bar. The other deputies were hidden; Hoss and Earl upstairs in their room and Travis behind some large barrels in the pantry.
Chloe smoothed her blue, diaphanous skirt with shaking hands and took a deep breath. Then she walked to the front door and opened it wide. “Gentlemen, welcome back!” she exclaimed and stepped aside as three men crowded into the house.
Robecheau had grabbed his guitar from the wall and melancholy music filled the room. Roy pretended to be sleeping and Matthew tried to make his body loose, as though alcohol was the only thing keeping him upright. Peering through slitted lids into an elaborate, gilt-framed mirror in the corner, he saw one of his warrants standing behind him with two other men he didn’t recognize.
Antoine suddenly switched tunes and a lively gig started up. Matthew jerked as if jolted awake and saw the brothel owner smile and wink at him, the prearranged signal that all the new guests were members of the Mad Hatter gang.
Sagging in his chair again, Matthew dropped his head so that his face was hidden by his hair. Staring through the golden strands, he saw the prostitutes display themselves like prize geese at a county fair. Then, one by one, the men walked upstairs with a woman on his arm.
As soon as the bedroom doors closed, Matthew stood up and walked into the pantry area. “Travis, you ready?” he whispered.
The older deputy stepped from the large closet and replied, “Yes, Boss, whenever you are.”
The young cowboy sitting in the cooling water with the buxom blonde on his lap gaped at the sudden flurry of activity and the grim-faced men whom he had assumed were either drunk or asleep.
Looking down at the flustered man, Matthew asked, “Gloria, has this man had his fill?”
She grinned. “Yes, Sheriff, some time ago. He’s as clean as a whistle by now, too.”
Matthew kept a straight face and said, “Son, you need to skedaddle out of here, right now. We are serving arrest warrants on some customers upstairs and I don’t want to see an innocent bystander get hurt in the process.”
The cowboy almost tossed Gloria out of the water as he hastened to make himself scarce. He was going to put his boots on outside but Matthew said, “No! You put ‘em on right here…and, when you leave, I want you to act natural.”
The young man sat down on a nearby chair and pulled on his boots with shaking fingers. Roy stuck his head around the doorjamb and nodded, letting him know the only other customer had finished his business and left.
Matthew escorted the cowboy out the front door. Turning around, he studied Antoine’s face. The brothel owner winked and the sheriff locked the door again…he and his posse were alone with the outlaws. He gestured and three of the whores grabbed their pre-packed bags of valuables and hurried out the back.
“You should leave too, Antoine,” Matthew whispered.
Antoine shook his head. “No. They are like scared rats, monsieur. They will come looking if the music stops. I stay right here and play my harp.”
Matthew sighed as harmonica tunes filled the air and he glanced at the four deputies suddenly taking up space in the front parlor. Hoss and Earl had crept downstairs sometime in the last five minutes, joining Roy and Travis.
“Better get a move on,” Hoss muttered. “I think a couple of those boys are finished already. They may be heading down here for a drink any minute.”
Matthew nodded and whispered, “Let’s go!”
The five men ran swiftly and silently up the stairs. One of the bedroom doors was already opening and Matthew saw a girl buttoning up her robe as she stepped into the hallway. Her eyes got big when she saw the sheriff and his deputies heading her way but she had the presence of mind to call out, “I’ll be right back, honey, with some of that hooch!” Then she went running downstairs.
Hoss and Earl entered that bedroom with their guns drawn. At the same time, Matthew opened another door and saw one of the prostitutes using a wet rag to wash between her legs. There were tear tracks on her face, and he saw red bruise marks and scratches on the inside of her thighs. She turned away in shame.
Matthew’s heart ached for her but he didn’t have time to give comfort. In that split second of hesitation, the man on her bed had seen the threat and rolled off the far side next to the wall.
Matthew kept his .45 aimed at where the man’s head disappeared but the outlaw shot at the sheriff’s feet and legs from under the bed. He missed and, seconds later, Matthew reached him. “Put ‘em up or I’ll shoot you dead!”
There was a moment of relative silence and he heard Earl call out, “Sheriff? You all right?”
Matthew answered, “Yeah. How about you two?”
“We got our rooster, sir. All trussed up nice for the fire.”
Matthew looked over at the bruised and beaten woman who now held her own gun on the scoundrel behind her bed. “You go on and get that other one, Sheriff. I got this skunk in my sights.”
The fee would be higher if Matthew and his posse were able to bring the outlaws in alive but he was willing to take his chances. He knew that the next room down was Chloe’s and he had just heard a muffled scream. He nodded at the whore and hollered, “Hoss, get in here and put this man in handcuffs!”
“Yes, sir!” came the reply.
Matthew ran the few steps down to Chloe’s half-open doorway. Stepping inside, he suddenly understood why Roy and Travis were so quiet. Matthew knew that the chances of them being able to pull a snatch and grab in total silence were practically nil. Still, up until the outlaw opened fire on him, the sheriff had hoped and prayed he and his boys were going to pull it off.
As he stepped through Chloe’s door, however, his hopes were dashed. Raymond Gallagher—the one man they held a warrant on—was lying on the rumpled sheets of the bed with Chloe’s body stretched out on top of his. He held a small derringer to her temple and grinned at the three lawmen with crazy-eyed glee.
Both of the deputies held their pistols on the man but he seemed to have made himself small. There was not one square inch of him showing past the woman’s body and no way to shoot without putting a hole in Chloe.
“Put down that gun! NOW!” Matthew barked.
For a moment, it seemed that Gallagher was going to give up. His arms sagged a little and he peered up past Chloe’s long black hair to see who was addressing him. Matthew took aim and just about took a shot. But then he heard the man burst into laughter.
As Matthew and his two deputies stared in shock, Raymond Gallagher shot Chloe in the head and howled like a rabid dog. He tossed the Creole down on the floor, then jumped up and danced in place on the bed as Matthew, Roy and Travis filled him full of holes.
The dead outlaw fell and landed squarely on Chloe’s body. In the ensuing silence, the only thing Matthew could hear was Antoine, who stood in the open doorway weeping with sorrow.
Chapter 23
Old Enemies
The posse left three days later. But, first, there was business to take care of. Matthew wired Sheriff O’Brian and asked him to send a wagon for the captured outlaws so they could stand trial and/or be laid to rest in Coeur d’Alene. The sheriff arrived the next day with two deputies and a mortician. He thanked Matthew for a job well done and told him that the younger of the two deputies was his for the duration of their hunt.
The gap-toothed man smiled and introduced himself. “It’s my honor to help out, sir. My name is Kevin Short.”
Although Matthew didn’t really want more men, he a
cknowledged the fact that the Mad Hatters were a special brand of loco. He knew now that he needed as much manpower as possible and was finally beginning to understand his uncle’s naked fear over the mission.
Welcoming Kevin on board, Matthew and the two deputies rounded up the disgruntled prisoners and tossed them into the barred cage in the back of the wagon. Then they brought the wooden coffin containing Raymond Gallagher and fastened the box onto a special platform behind the cage.
As he left, O’Brian called out, “You take care now and come back home in one piece!” The words were aimed at the young deputy but Matthew realized the message was meant for him, too. Gritting his teeth, he watched as the wagon turned around in front of the whorehouse and headed back to O’Brian’s hometown.
Antoine and his girls were busy inside the brothel. The night his sister died, Antoine decided to abandon his new brothel and take what remained of his stable to the greater Seattle area. Feeling responsible somehow for the Robecheau’s calamity, Matthew ordered his deputies to help them pack up and move.
In the meantime, there was a Catholic burial to perform. The closest clergyman was in the Priest Lake area and he wasn’t expected until later that night so Matthew took it upon himself to fix the bullet holes in the walls of the house. Most of the damage, of course, was in the two bedrooms upstairs.
He had repaired the lathe and painted one of the rooms yesterday but now he paused outside of Chloe’s bedroom, suddenly overcome with fearful apprehension. Matthew had seen too much death in his life to let fear of dying get the better of him, but it had been a long time since someone close to him had passed on.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and peered inside. Chloe was lying in state on the bed. Antoine and his girls had washed her body and combed her long, black hair so the bullet hole didn’t show. She wore her finest gown but her beautiful face was ashy and her vibrant, golden eyes were weighted down with copper pennies.
Candles were burning and incense filled the air yet Matthew thought he could smell death’s signature fragrance seeping like fog from that part of the room. Swallowing, he began to stuff the holes in the wall with old newspapers and took measurements for new lathing.
Working in silence, Matthew was acutely aware of the courtesan’s corpse. As he toiled, he remembered the night he had lost himself in her fragrant warmth. She had taken a hold of him and run her tongue up and down his belly and over his nipples until he panted with desire. When he tried to bring her body down upon him, though, she had giggled and taken the whole of him into her mouth.
Matthew stopped working and stood in the darkened room, shuddering. Then he heard a voice and turned to see Antoine standing in the doorway.
“My God, Sheriff! There is no need for you to work in here,” he said softly. “The man who bought this house from me knows very well what happened. That is why he got it for such a cheap price.” Seeing how anxious the young man was, he stepped close and clasped Matthew’s arm. “Come, cher. I hear the priest is in town now. We should go down and welcome him in.”
Matthew followed Antoine out and felt another chapter of his life close as the doorknob clicked into place.
The next morning, Matthew, his posse, Antoine, his girls, and a number of the community’s citizens attended Chloe Robecheau’s funeral. It was a beautiful day; fluffy white clouds sailed across azure skies and the sun’s warmth was finally taking its toll on the area’s incessant mud. The priest droned on in Latin and many of the attendees were starting to wipe sweat from their brow.
Matthew prayed for a quick end to the service. He was restless now and, despite feelings of lingering guilt over what had happened to the beautiful Octaroon, old familiar feelings of rage, revenge and retribution had swamped his soul sometime the night before as he tossed in his bed.
He had woken up repeatedly, images of naked women filling his mind. The slightly menacing but erotic dreams turned into nightmares when Chloe’s dark body suddenly became pale with peach-colored freckles, abundant breasts and masses of long, red hair. Matthew had gazed up into Iris’s face as she sat astride him but he saw nothing but blood.
Sitting up in bed with a cry, he met Travis’ eyes. The old man was sitting by the windowsill smoking a cheroot and he whispered, “Settle down, son. We all need to get some sleep for the task ahead.”
Sighing, the deputy tossed the cigar out the window, closed it, and lay down on his pallet with his face turned to the wall. Matthew sat awake for a while and then closed his eyes, willing himself back to sleep.
Four hours after the funeral service ended, Matthew and his posse said their goodbyes to Antoine Robecheau and his girls and rode north. Their next stop was somewhere between Sandpoint and Bonner’s Ferry. Apparently, a whole village had been burned to the ground when some of the citizens took up arms in defense of their local saloon and telegraph office. Most of the town was in ruins but a few people remained, determined to start over again and hopeful that a sheriff’s posse may be able to remove the outlaws from the region.
They rode at a crisp pace but Matthew allowed himself to take in the scenery even as he watched for hidden threats. Tall, tree-covered hills rose up into majestic mountains. Some of the peaks were so high, snow still painted their pinnacles white while the valleys below bloomed with wildflowers and green grass as high as the horses’ bellies.
There was a stand of aspen and birch trees to their right, their tiny leaves shimmering in the sunlight. As Matthew gazed at them, he heard Hoss shout, “Lookit, Boss! That would fill our bags for the trip ahead.”
Matthew turned and saw two young bucks running across the meadow, moving swiftly as if they had been spooked from their afternoon grazing.
They were about fifty miles—or two days away from Sandpoint—so what Hoss said was correct. Stocked up with hardtack, coffee, biscuits and beans, they were seriously short on meat. The smaller of those two bucks would see him and his deputies through the next couple of days and what they didn’t finish could be shared amongst the citizens they were trying to protect.
Hoss and Earl looked at him with ill-concealed excitement but when he nodded in approval and said, “Just one, alright?” they grinned and broke out their rifles. Cocking the weapons, both men spurred their horses and took off after the deer.
Matthew, Travis, Roy and the new man Kevin sat their horses and watched as Hoss and Earl rode up fast on the bucks. Then Hoss reined his horse sideways, lifted his rifle and shot at the smaller of the two animals.
Matthew and his men shouted with glee as the animal stumbled and fell down in the long grass. They kicked their horses into a run in order to help Hoss with his prize but pulled up short as something strange happened. They were too far away to see clearly but Matthew heard Earl shout in panic, then saw Hoss grab his own neck in shock.
“Holy shit! Indians are attacking ‘em!” Travis muttered.
Matthew saw it now. About ten braves were hidden in amongst the trees that bordered the meadowland. All of them were mounting their ponies and racing toward Hoss and Earl even as he and his deputies approached from the opposite direction. He could hear their whooping cries and wondered whether they were from the Coeur d’ Alene or Spokane tribes.
“Goddammit!” he snarled as Hoss fell to his knees in the grass. Matthew was close enough now to see the arrow sticking out from his deputy’s neck and watch the blood running in sheets down his stout chest.
“They are not going to take those men’s scalps!” he yelled. “Get ready to fight, boys!”
Letting out a cry of his own, Matthew spurred his horse, pulled his pistol out of its holster, and raced to meet the Indians head on.
Chapter 24
Redbird
Guns roaring, Matthew and his deputies rode fast into the small band of Indians. As he drew closer, the sheriff realized this was most likely a Nez Perce hunting party as some of their ponies were dragging wooden travois’ with dead animal carcasses piled high on them.
He also noticed that most o
f the Indians were young boys and teenagers probably tasked with finding meat while the older braves made war against the white men who were trying to take their land or with other tribes that aligned themselves on the side of their enemies. Although the Nez Perce were a peaceful people who strived to get along with their white neighbors, there were factions within the tribe who refused to give up and move onto reservations.
Matthew’s heart ached; he didn’t like killing kids, Indian or otherwise. But as he watched, one of the boys slid off his horse and knelt in the tall grass—knife in hand—to take Hoss’s scalp.
“No!” he cried.
The youngster gazed up at him for a moment and then proceeded to saw at Hoss’s hair. Matthew lifted his pistol, aimed and pulled the trigger. The boy screamed as his body flew backward on the grass; he clutched his right arm, weeping with pain, as Matthew turned away to deal with another older boy riding hard in his direction.
The teenager on horseback howled and held his tomahawk high in the air. Just as the Indian let his weapon fly, Matthew ducked, lifted his right boot and watched as his heel slammed against the pony’s long nose. The animal reared up, kicking in panic, and the boy yelled “Iieeeee!” as he fell and landed hard on his back in the grass.
The sheriff realized his deputies had come to the same conclusion…they were being attacked by children! Alone and unprotected, the last thing a sensible posse wanted to do was provoke the wrath of a hostile tribe of Indians like the mighty Nez Perce.
Matthew spurred his horse and shouted, “Aim high, men! Don’t shoot to kill!”
It was hard to hear over the boys’ war cries but the sheriff saw his men nod in understanding and thought he heard Travis shout, “Hear you, Boss!”
By now, five of the young men lie prostrate on the grass. None of them seemed badly hurt but, before the posse had a chance to subdue them all, Matthew saw the remaining teenagers kick their ponies into a gallop and take off fast toward the tree line. Looking down, he searched for Hoss and saw him lying about twenty-five feet away.
Deadman's Lament (The Deadman Series Book 1) Page 14
