by Tabor Evans
“I don’t care about having a lot of money,” Jessica said. “But to be honest, I never wanted to be poor, either.”
Kent laughed. “We’re going to do just fine once this trial is over and your father is free. You don’t think he’ll want to stick around Yuma, do you?”
“My father has a mind all of his own and he’ll usually do what is unexpected. But I think he’s seen enough of this country to last him the rest of his lifetime. And he once told me that he loved Santa Fe because it’s much cooler in the summer and the winters aren’t harsh.”
“I hope he comes and lives with us.”
“He won’t,” Jessica said with confidence. “Tom will come to Santa Fe and then he’ll be off looking for the end of the rainbow.”
“Maybe he’ll find a pretty senorita instead.”
“I sure hope so.”
Jessica kissed her husband and then for good measure she kissed Longarm and Loretta. “You two are risking your lives today to help my father and that is something Kent and I will never forget.”
“Justice is its own best reward,” Longarm replied.
“Loretta . . . I can’t thank you enough. You’re being very brave to take the stand.”
“I’ll tell nothing but the truth and when this is over, I’ll start a new life with Custis in Denver.”
Jessica’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and she stared at Longarm. “Is that right?”
“I’m just going to help her get a fresh start, so don’t let your imagination start getting the best of you.”
Longarm knew what she was thinking but decided to just let it pass. Sure, Loretta had been a whore and probably had sex with more men in a month than he’d had in his life, but her slate was going to be swept clean and after a bath and with her hair brushed, she was looking very good. The pair of eye shiners were growing fainter every day and she wasn’t even limping anymore. Yeah, he’d be proud to put her on his arm and walk her down Colfax Avenue, and maybe she could even teach him a few new tricks on the train heading back to Colorado and later on in his bed.
“Be careful,” Jessica warned. “Be very, very careful. Mitch Lang has something planned and—”
“We’ll be careful,” Longarm interrupted. “Just rest easy and don’t worry. The two men I hired are very capable and they won’t run out on you if there is trouble.”
“All right,” Jessica said. “Good-bye and good luck. I can’t wait to see and hold my father once more.”
“Are you both ready?” Longarm asked Kent and the visibly frightened Loretta as they descended the stairway into the lobby.
“Ready as could be,” Kent said tightly.
“Me, too,” Loretta whispered, “Custis, just stay real close.”
“I will.”
Monty waved from behind the hotel desk. “Good luck, Marshal! The whole town is cheering for Tom Ray!”
“Thanks,” Longarm called as they headed outside and walked across the street, heading for the courthouse, which was only a block away.
“Just relax,” Longarm said, feeling how tight Loretta’s arm felt against his own. “This won’t take long and once you’ve testified, you won’t be in any danger at—”
The shot from the rooftop punched a round, neat hole through Longarm’s hat brim and blasted dirt into the air. An instant later, Longarm hurled Loretta behind a horse-watering trough and dove in after her. Jessica’s husband landed tight against them as more rifle shots boomed.
“Someone is on the roof!” Longarm growled.
“I caught a glimpse of his face. It’s Marshal Beeson,” Kent whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“You and Loretta are going to stay where you are. I’m going after him. Don’t move until I call out that this is finished and you’re no longer in any danger.”
Two more rifle shots riddled the wooden trough and twin streams of water began to pour over their heads. Longarm drew his pistol and poked his head over the trough bringing another fast bullet that narrowly missed.
“He won’t stay up there,” Longarm decided. “Beeson is on the bank’s rooftop, and now that he realizes he’s missed his best chance of killing me and Loretta, he’ll be running.”
“Be careful!” Loretta whispered.
Longarm wasn’t listening but instead was rolling fast toward the sidewalk, and when he was out of Beeson’s rifle sights, he burst into the bank and shouted, “Is there a stairway to the rooftop!”
There were two people in the bank and one of them was Mitch Lang. Longarm just caught a glimpse of the banker as he scuttled out of sight and then there was the crashing sound of a door slamming from the back of the building.
Longarm jumped over a desk and went after the crooked banker. He found the back door to the bank and kicked it open yelling, “It’s over, Lang! Same for you, Beeson!”
He heard the pounding of feet across the bank’s rooftop. Longarm looked around and then spied a rusty ladder attached to the building. He began to climb, knowing that if the marshal of the banker were thinking straight, they would have hurried over to shoot directly downward at him. His heart was pounding and it seemed to take forever to reach the rooftop, but he rolled over the edge, yanking out his pistol.
The rooftop was empty but Longarm saw empty shell casings from a Winchester, and when he rushed to the far edge of the rooftop, he caught a glimpse of Marshal Beeson and Mitch Lang sprinting down a back alley. Lang was the faster and smaller man, but the heavyset marshal was close on his heels. Having no clear shot, Longarm watched them disappear.
He drew a deep breath and holstered his gun. He had a choice to make . . . he could either chase after the pair or he could make sure that Loretta was safe and able to testify in court.
Take care of Loretta, he thought. Then after her testimony go after those two. You gave everyone your word you’d protect them and that, along with seeing Tom Ray go free, is the most important thing you can do now.
Longarm climbed back down the bank’s ladder and slapped rust from the palms of his hands. He hurried around the building to see Loretta and Kent still lying flat on their bellies with twin streams of water still pouring over them.
“It’s okay to come out now,” he yelled as he trotted over to join the pair.
Kent helped Loretta up and they were both covered with mud.
“I can’t go into the courtroom looking like this!” Kent complained, furiously wiping his face and the front of his coat and pants but only making things look worse.
“And I don’t want anyone to see me on the stand looking so awful!” Loretta wailed.
Longarm understood. But sometimes you had to do what you didn’t want to do and this was one of those times.
“Here,” he said, pulling out his handkerchief and dipping it in the water trough. “Wipe the mud off your faces and let’s get over to that courthouse. Justice for Tom Ray can’t wait until we look respectable.”
“Easy for you to say,” Loretta told him as she smeared mud across her pretty face while scrubbing furiously. “You’re a man!”
Longarm didn’t understand what being a man or a woman had to do with having a muddy face and clothes, but he decided he had more than enough on his mind already so he let the remark pass.
Despite the years of being mistreated and humiliated, Loretta still had a bit of a defiant streak in her because she placed both of her muddy thumbs on Longarm’s cheeks and drew a couple of lines that looked like Comanche war paint.
“There,” she said, looking satisfied, “we’ll all look the same now.”
“Okay by me,” Longarm said, taking her hand and heading for the courtroom.
Chapter 25
Finally, the trial was almost over. Judge Peter Hamilton, the Yuma jury, and dozens of spectators had packed the baking courtroom and intently listened to a muddy-faced but determined Loretta describe how Tom Ray h
ad acted in self-defense.
“They drew first and they were cheating him and that pair of poor miners,” she said. “In my opinion, Mr. Tom Ray should have been awarded a medal instead of sent to prison.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, mopping their sweaty faces. Tom Ray was smiling from ear to ear and that smile stayed plastered to his face when federal judge Peter Hamilton said, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“Not guilty!” all the jurors shouted.
“Then by the authority given to me by the United States of America I declare you, Tom Ray, absolved off all charges and a free man!”
The packed courthouse erupted in cheers and a woman with a face flushed by the heat fainted dead away. Everyone cleared out fast and Longarm stood back to watch the pair of prison guards unshackle the man and shake his hand. Kent Hamilton hugged his brother and then his new father-in-law.
“I want to see Jessica! I want to see my girl!” Tom Ray shouted.
“We’re going to her right now,” her husband yelled as he led the newly freed man out of the courtroom.
For a full minute, Tom Ray just stood on the front steps of the courthouse smiling and breathing in the hot and free air.
“I want my gold mine back,” he said to Kent.
“Of course, but it has run dry.”
Ray frowned. “Are you sure of that?”
“Yes, sir. But we’re going to attach one hell of a lot of assets from Mitch Lang to make up for the gold that was plundered. I promise you’ll be satisfied before this is all said and done.”
Tom Ray nodded. “Then I take you at your promise. Truth of the matter is that I was dreading working that damned old mine again and I’m sure that now that Jessica has married you she wouldn’t have been too keen on helping.”
“Probably not,” Kent said, trying to hide a smile. “Come on. She’s waiting upstairs in the hotel.”
Longarm had taken Loretta back to their room and kissed her good-bye. He’d shaken hands with everyone and it did his heart proud to see how happy the former Denver lawman was to be with his daughter again, even if she was wounded.
“Loretta,” Longarm said, “I have to be after them before they get too great a lead on me.”
“Please . . .”
“You’re going to tell me to be careful.”
“Yes! I want to make love to you when you return . . . if you think I’m worthy of doing it . . . I mean, given my past and . . .”
Longarm put his fingers over her mouth. “I’ll be back and we’ll make love. That’s a promise.”
She hugged him so tightly that she nearly broke his neck and then Longarm was flying down the stairs.
“Git them bastards!” Monty shouted from behind the hotel’s registration desk.
“I’ll do my best,” Longarm yelled back over his shoulder.
• • •
Now Longarm was mounting a horse at the Rolling River Stables and the owner was handing him a rifle. “Marshal, you need to just kill ’em both! Don’t just arrest ’em and bring ’em back to be tried by a jury. Mr. Lang has enough money to buy the best lawyers in the land and they might get him off the hook.”
“I’m a federal officer sworn to uphold the law, not to execute people no matter how much they deserve it.”
“I know,” the liveryman conceded. “But if Mitch Lang . . . with all his money and influence . . . ever gets a toehold back in this town, anyone who stood against him this day will be ruthlessly killed or destroyed. You understand what I’m saying?”
“I completely understand,” Longarm told the man. “Thanks for the loan of the rifle and the ammunition.”
“Use it all up on them two bastards! Don’t waste a single bullet.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The liveryman patted the horse he’d selected for Longarm. “This paint is the fastest and toughest animal I ever owned. He won’t quit on you and he’ll run until he drops.”
“Thanks.”
Longarm was eager to get into the saddle and head out after Lang and Beeson, but the liveryman really wanted to talk.
“Marshal, I was in the courtroom today and when I heard those shots outside from the rooftop, I just knew that you and Loretta were dead. Then, when the three of you marched in with mud all over your faces and clothes . . . I couldn’t believe my eyes. Neither could anyone else. That’s when everyone started yelling and stomping and shouting in celebration.”
“I’ll have to admit it was quite a boisterous reception,” Longarm agreed.
“Marshal, my guess is that they headed across the river and hope to overtake the westbound train for San Diego,” the liveryman said. “It went through here right after the shooting and if they catch it you may never capture them two evil sons o’ bitches.”
“I’ll catch them no matter how far or fast they run.”
“Just be careful crossing the Colorado River. There’s a place about a quarter mile north of the train trestle and it’s where people cross when they have to get into California. The water is going to be high and dangerous, but this pony you’re taking can damn sure swim. Go to that place if you need to cross over.”
“Thanks for the warning. Where is the next train stop rolling west from here?”
“That would be Holtville and I never been there and I’d guess it would be about sixty miles . . . but all desert and it’s just a whistle stop where they take on water and wood.”
“Well,” Longarm said, “I sure hope I don’t have to ride that far after those two.”
“Here, take a couple of extra canteens.” The liveryman ran into a tack room and hurried back with two large canteens. “Fill ’em up when you’re crossin’ the river and don’t let that fine horse I’m lending you get bit by a snake or his wind broken plowing through them gawdamn California sand dunes.”
“I won’t.”
“Shoot them on sight, Marshal. Because if they spot you first, you can damn sure betcha that’s what they’ll do!”
Longarm nodded with understanding and rode out of the stable and through town. He saw Loretta standing on the courthouse steps surrounded by newfound friends and they all waved. Loretta called out something to him but Longarm couldn’t hear her words over the hard pounding of his horse’s shod hooves.
• • •
Beeson and Lang had crossed the river into California, probably by running on foot over the train trestle and then finding horses to buy or rent. Longarm made the river crossing where he’d been told, but once in California he had to spend ten or fifteen minutes before anyone could actually point him in the direction that the Yuma fugitives had taken. Lang and Beeson had not dared to cross the desert and reach Holtville. Instead, they’d galloped south crossing an unmarked border into old Mexico and staying close to the west bank of the Colorado River. Their tracks were very fresh and Longarm knew that he could overtake them before it got dark.
At sundown he saw Lang and Beeson less than a mile up ahead, and when they finally realized Longarm was closing in, they tried to cross the river again. But down in Mexico, the farmers had already siphoned off a lot of the river onto their carefully tended fields and now the Colorado was shallow and treacherous with sandbars.
Longarm wasn’t yet in rifle range when he saw Lang’s horse flounder in quicksand. The man shouted a warning to Beeson, but it was too late. Both horses quickly sank to their bellies, wildly pawing and fighting for a footing not to be found. But the animals sank only so far and then they were stuck, unable to move except for their heads, which they kept waving helplessly. Longarm knew that by tomorrow some Mexican farmer would see the trapped saddled horses. He would round up more men and some mules and ropes. And in a short time, the two mired-down saddle horses would be pulled free and some poor Mexican peasant would have been gifted beyond his wildest dreams.
Longarm rode to the very edge of the muddy,
slow-moving river fully aware that he had no authority in Mexico to exact American justice. Down here below the border it was every man for himself.
Longarm dragged the Winchester out of his saddle scabbard. He tied his fine horse and walked a few dozen yards south along the bank so that any shots fired back at him would not hit his pinto. He saw a fish jump into the sunset and splash a miniature golden rainbow.
Longarm stretched out on the warm Mexican sand and used his thumb to ease his ruined hat back just a little on his sweating forehead. The sun was to his back, diving into the western hills. His targets were to the east and now abandoning their poor horses while trying to escape to the opposite shore.
Longarm watched the two Yuma men struggle and decided not to give them the chance to reach the opposite riverbank. They were both fighting the quicksand and he could hear their anguished grunting over the sounds of evening birds flitting through the sage and water-loving cottonwood trees.
The pair were exhausted from the struggles and made very easy targets.
Longarm rested his rifle on a sun-bleached log, settled into the warm sand, and took careful aim.
He didn’t waste any ammunition because he didn’t miss.
Watch for
LONGARM AND THE SONORA SIREN
the 426th novel in the exciting LONGARM series from Jove
Coming in May!
