Killing Halfbreed

by Mason, Zack

  I picked up the whiskey bottle, turning it to get a better look at the label. A brief whiff and I’d confirmed it was indeed simply water. We made small talk for a few minutes, and then I thanked him again. I wished him the best of luck and offered any help I might be capable of giving.

  Next, I headed to the saloon. I hadn’t been there since the night of the battle with the rustlers in my canyon.

  As usual, Red was tending bar. I sat down on a stool and ordered a whiskey. Looking into the tiny shot glass, I marveled at how much power this liquid had over some men. I felt I’d never understand it, but then again….I did, didn't I?

  Red walked over to me. “We were sure surprised to see you come through the fight that day, Jake.

  “For what it’s worth, I was rootin’ for you. Odds were stacked against you, all right. Sure was a miracle how Doc pulled you out of the fire like that. Never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

  “Especially since he’d been sittin’ in here all day drunk as a skunk. All of a sudden, he got up and went out to help you. It was like he sobered up in an instant. Never seen such a thing before.”

  ***

  Bill Hartford and I sat before Carlton Andrews’ dark, oaken desk, looking the banker dead in the eyes.

  It was hot. Sweat trickled in a tiny stream down Andrews’ forehead. He’d offered us a smoke, but only Hartford had accepted. I didn’t care much for cigars.

  To say that Andrews had become unsettled upon seeing Hartford and me together peaceably would have been the understatement of the year. That’s when I first noticed the sweat popping out on his forehead.

  “So…run this by me again? I’m sorry, gentlemen, if I seem dense, but you’ve taken me by such surprise I want to make sure I’m not misunderstanding.”

  His eyes flicked back and forth between us. Yeah, we’d taken him by surprise all right. He’d wanted that gold for himself, and he’d worked awful hard to make Hartford and me enemies, yet here we were together, and his secret was blown. It had taken him this long just to get his nerves back under control.

  I went through our story for the third time. “Look, Carlton, basically, Hartford and I have decided we would like to go into the mining business together. We’ve found some promising claim sites on my ranch. I wanted to try and start up a full-fledged mining operation, but I figured out pretty quickly I didn’t have the capital to do it myself.”

  Hartford added his part. “So, Talbot came to see me and offered an equal partnership if I’d front the capital. I explained I didn’t have enough in available cash, but that maybe the bank would be willing to front us the money we need, especially if we were to put both ranches up as collateral. That’s where you come in, Carlton.” He finished with a congenial smile.

  “You want the bank to front you the money to launch a mining operation, which neither of you has experience doing, in a valley where gold has never been found in large quantities before?”

  Hartford broke in, “Carlton, you know I’ve got more than what we’re asking for tied up in my herd right now. In a few months, when we take them up the trail and sell them, I’ll have more than enough cash to pay you back, even if the mine doesn’t result. And, worst-case scenario, you take both our ranches. How can you lose?”

  “I just don’t know, men. Maybe if you had some assayed samples from some digs proving there was gold to be found, then we could talk more. As it is, I think this is too risky for the bank to take an interest in at the moment.”

  Bill and I looked at each other. We nodded slowly in understanding.

  “Sure, Carlton,” I said, “I think we can understand that. We’ll see if we can’t get you some samples first.”

  Andrews did not look pleased with my confidence.

  We both stood to go.

  “How did you two hook up anyway?” He asked. “Last I knew, you were at each other’s throats.”

  “I guess we just came to an understanding,” Bill drawled.

  “Never thought I’d see the day, but I’m glad to.”

  He didn’t look so glad though.

  Bill and I crossed the street briskly and entered the near-empty saloon. I tossed a gold piece to Red to keep him quiet, and we left through the back door. To anybody watching from the street, we would still be in there.

  Our proposition to Andrews was hogwash, of course. It was simply an attempt to flush out my main enemy. I'd seen some healthy veins of what looked to be gold in that cave, so a mining operation wasn’t implausible, but I was really counting on Carlton worrying himself into a tizzy over us digging around anywhere out there. Searching for a suitable place to begin a mine, it’d only be a matter of time before we’d stumble on that cave, and then the treasure stash. He would probably worry that we’d already found it all.

  The more I’d examined that cave, the more I’d decided the gold bars had probably been left there by the original miners, because pick marks covered all the walls around them. Those bars were likely the melted-down, consolidated profits they’d gleaned from their labor, but then, for some reason, they’d been unable to remove them. At some point, the gold had been forgotten and lost.

  That Andrews knew about that cave was obvious. I could see the panic in his eyes when we told him our plan. He’d wanted it all for himself and had done his very best to keep it a secret. The twitches in his face betrayed his anger and frustration at our intentions.

  We’d just locked him up neatly in a no-win situation. He couldn’t lend us the money, because then we would develop the mine without him. Once we had a few good assayed ore samples, he couldn’t turn us down, because then he would have no reason to. Refusing us would raise suspicion. Even if he did refuse to loan us the money, he knew Hartford would just wait a few months, sell his cattle, and then use the proceeds to fund it himself.

  Andrews wouldn’t ask to be made a partner, he was too greedy. He wanted it all.

  Andrews couldn’t kill me to shut me up, because he would have to kill Bill too, and Bill was a highly respected member of the community. What had happened to me after I’d killed Logan was a clear enough warning against doing something like that.

  Yes, we’d put Carlton Andrews in quite a quandary, which is exactly what we wanted. We hoped the shock of our proposal would force Andrews to seek out his partner in crime for counsel.

  We waited in the alley next to the saloon, and it wasn’t long before Andrews left the bank, shuffling hurriedly up the street. Carlton was normally a man of great caution, but today we’d touched his gold, and so he’d thrown caution to the wind.

  We followed him discreetly until he reached the end of the street.

  Andrews ascended the stairs to Doc’s office and went inside. I looked to Hartford quizzically, but he just shrugged his shoulders. He was as confused as I was.

  Could the killer be hiding out in Doc’s office? Had he hurt Doc?

  Then….

  ….it hit me.

  The killer was Doc. Doc who always reeked of drunken incompetence. Nobody would ever suspect a man like that of masterminding a scheme as complicated as the one enveloping Cottonwood Valley. Doc, whose liquor bottle had been filled with water.

  Bill seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same moment, for his eyes grew big as saucers, and then narrowed in anger.

  We drew our weapons and raced up the stairs. I burst through the door shoulder first, and we rushed inside, guns sweeping the room before us.

  Andrews whirled around at the sudden noise, paralyzed when he saw us. In a few seconds, renewed beads of sweat would appear on his brow.

  Doc, however, remained neatly seated in his office chair, legs crossed, unrattled.

  His eyes did not reflect the drunken stupor he normally portrayed, but were instead alert, revealing a keen intelligence and cunning, narrowed into slits like the eyes of a serpent.

  “Don’t move, either of you,” Hartford growled.

  They didn’t.

  While Hartford kept them covered
, I confidently pushed my way in past him. My guns were drawn as well, but I let them droop a bit.

  This was the man I’d been trying so hard to find all these months. This was the man who’d killed my brother. I desperately wanted to provoke him into a fight or make him think he could get the drop on me.

  “So, you finally figured it out, Halfbreed?” His grin was sly.

  “Enough of it.”

  “What are you going to do with me now?”

  “Not sure. Maybe they’ll string you up. Maybe not. I’d kind of prefer it if you’d make a go of it right here and now. You killed my brother. You’re a no-good, cowardly, yellow sneak, thief, and murderer. Why don’t we just go ahead and dance, Doc?”

  Andrews had slunk into the corner of the room and was doing his best to make himself invisible.

  Oddly, in direct contrast with Andrews, Doc’s confidence only seemed to grow, along with his smile. Hatred for the man burned ardently in my heart. It was all I could do to resist shooting him down on the spot.

  “I don’t think so, Halfbreed. I hear tell you’re pretty good with a gun. I think I’ll take my chances with the townspeople.”

  “Draw!”

  “I will not. You can’t keep me here anyway.”

  Hartford piped up, “You’d better stay put, Doc, we got you covered dead to rights. You ain’t going nowhere!”

  Doc shut his mouth and looked to the floor.

  “Neither are you!”

  The call came from behind us. A gun barked, and Hartford crumpled to the floor, either dead or unconscious. Neither Andrews nor Doc had moved. The shooter was behind us.

  My guns were already out. I was bringing them up, turning...

  “Hold it right there, Halfbreed!”

  I froze.

  “Turn around, slowly. No false moves.”

  I turned until I was facing both Doc and the man behind me at the same time. What I saw was a stranger dressed in black. His face looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize him from around town.

  Or did I?

  “Throw your guns into the corner over there. That’s good. Now, your knife.”

  I reluctantly did as ordered and tossed it next to my guns. I had no doubt this guy intended to kill me, but what choice did I have?

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  Doc was standing now and answered for the silent stranger. “He’s my hired gun, of course. I’m sure you’ve seen him around from time to time. He’s been in my employ for a while, but we’ve kept him mostly out of sight. He’s my ace-up-the-sleeve, you might say.”

  Then, I remembered. This man was the same mysterious stranger who’d come into the saloon the first night I’d been in town. I’d completely forgotten about him.

  “See, Jake, you’re just a big sucker after all. You thought you were so smart teaming up with Hartford and trying to flush me out. Well, look at Hartford now! He was too stupid...you both were too stupid to realize that I still have informants on the ranches telling me everything that goes on. Not only did my man on Hartford’s ranch tell me about your meeting, but he was under the window, eavesdropping during your whole conversation. I knew of this pitiful plan as soon as you made it. It was such a simple matter to plan a reverse trap within yours.”

  The man looked absolutely pleased with himself. I didn’t respond.

  The stranger stood cool as ice. He knew his game. His gun was no more than an extension of his hand, it sat in his palm so comfortably. If I moved, the trigger would be smoothly depressed, with no effort or thought, and he would not miss. His face would be expressionless.

  He was a professional gunslinger and didn’t care about right or wrong, or politics. His only interest was money, and he’d already been paid. I was as good as dead, and the clock was ticking.

  Doc was just stringing me along for a little while. He wanted to gloat about how he’d bested all of us. My mind raced desperately to find a way out of this, but there seemed to be none.

  “Don’t have anything to say, Jake, or did the cat get your tongue?”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to a coward like you. You’re nothing but a yellow snake who takes pride in manipulation. Tell your hired gun to go ahead and shoot. Let’s be done with it. We all know you’d be nothing without the likes of him anyway.”

  Doc’s face turned a beet red. A vein pulsated in his forehead as his anger grew, but I turned from him and faced my would-be executioner. Doc shrieked for me to turn back around, but I ignored him.

  The stranger and I, we looked each other in the eye, and we understood each other. We were a lot alike, I could tell.

  There were aspects of our spirits that I knew we shared. I didn’t like sharing those things with him, but I knew we did all the same. Under different circumstances, it might not have been difficult to end up like him, selling my soul for gold. Whether it was my parents, my circumstances, or whatever, something had kept me from such a life and made me different. No matter what you might say, in the end that something was God watching out for me, and I was right thankful for it.

  Still, I had an odd kinship with the man. He felt it too in that moment. His finger tightened. My life passed before my eyes with each millimeter that trigger moved.

  Here, Jacob Halfbreed would finally die.

  A gun exploded, but I felt nothing. The stranger jerked in sudden pain. His gun tumbled weakly from his palm as his arm muscles relaxed against his will. He slumped and fell forward into the room, red, bleeding holes dotting his back. One of his eyes faced the floor now, but the other was still visible, staring at me.

  It glazed over.

  Jessica Talbot, my brother’s widow and my recent care-giver among the Apaches, entered through the door.

  She held a shotgun in her hands, and smoke tendrils wafted up from one of the barrels. The other barrel was pointed at Doc now, pinning him in place.

  His mouth dropped open, and so did mine.

  I recovered and scooped up my weapons to cover him as well. I wasn’t taking any more chances. Who knew what other tricks he might have up his sleeve? Just to be sure, I kept one of my pistols aimed at the portly banker too.

  “Sure am glad to see you,” I said, and boy, was I.

  “He killed one Talbot man already,” She said, “A good one. I wasn’t about to let him take another.” Her blue eyes glinted like cold steel. It was a look I’d never seen in her before. I wagered Ben hadn’t either.

  “A lot of me wants to pull this trigger, Doc, and send you to judgment,” she said flatly, “But you’re going to stand trial for what you’ve done, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  The name of the dead gunslinger was Michael Spade. I knew him by reputation. He’d been a mercenary who was supposed to be a pretty fast draw from what I understood, but was mostly known for his dirty methods, including shooting men in the back.

  Many on the outlaw trail called him “Ace,” which made him even more appealing to possible employers. Dishonest men who were intent on stampeding their opposition liked the idea of having an “ace” up their sleeve.

  It was known not to call him “Ace” to his face though. Not because of any inferred reference to dirty tactics, but because he didn’t like being associated with luck or chance. I’d heard he’d killed over it.

  Regardless, his luck had run out in Cottonwood. He laid on the floor of the Doc’s office for four or five hours before anybody thought to move him. We were too caught up in getting Doc safely locked up inside a cell, explaining to the townspeople what had happened, and getting Bill Hartford looked after to worry about him.

  Amazingly, Hartford hadn’t been killed by Spade’s shot. The bullet had struck him in the head and knocked him out, but instead of penetrating the skull, it had only furrowed a path under the skin and traveled around the curve of his skull. I’d only seen such a wound once before and it amazed me this time as much as it had then.

  We obviously couldn’t let Doc care for him, but there were several townswomen who were skilled in
the healing arts and lent a hand. Before you knew it, he was sitting pretty, laid up in a bed with white linens, fluffy pillows under his head, and several women waiting on him hand and foot. Why couldn’t I get treatment like that, I wondered?

  The town council met that afternoon and set Doc’s trial for the very same night. Justice can be quick when people were motivated.

  Jessica and I both testified as to what happened in Doc’s office and of what we suspected he’d done over the past few years. I knew my testimony wouldn’t hold too much weight with the jury, but it would have some. When Jessica testified, however, it was a different story.

  She told them everything, from the point when she and Ben were first threatened, until this last shooting, and everything she suspected. Two of the jury members teared up when she described losing Ben that fateful night, and all of them were visibly angry when she told them how she’d been chased off her land and almost killed.

  What clinched it was Bill Hartford’s testimony. The jury had to go to his bedside to hear it, but they got an earful, in typical Hartford style. He told them that if they "didn’t find that scalawag doctor guilty,” then he wouldn’t be able to consider them men any longer, and they’d be “jes’ as low a scum as he.”

  They hardly deliberated before coming back with a guilty verdict. Shooting a man down in front of witnesses in Cottonwood didn’t bode well for one’s chances in court. I, for one, could testify to that. Having a hired gun do it for you, and having that hired gun shoot a man in the back to boot, well that really rankled people around here.

  Doc was sentenced to hang by the judge before the guilty verdict was fully out of the jury foreman’s mouth.

  When Doc heard the verdict, I guess he figured he had nothing left to lose, because he confessed to the whole scheme and filled in all the blanks we’d hadn’t figured out. He seemed to want people to know what he’d almost gotten away with.

  It turned out that Doc’s scheming had gone further than any of us had imagined.

  He'd come out west several years before taking a job scouting for his cousin, who worked for the railroad company. His cousin had shown him surveys of the proposed path of the new train line. From the surveys, they’d both come to the conclusion that Cottonwood was key to the railroad’s plans.