Hanging in Wild Wind

by Ralph Cotton

  “Clancy and Elliot,” said the blacksmith, also standing, going to the next cell. “I believe they would have drank it out of their system had it not been for a couple of strangers who happened to be there.”

  “Just happened to be there, huh?” Sam said, almost to himself. He stepped forward and wrapped the length of chain around the bars of Kitty’s cell door, fastening it to the iron doorframe. “What’d these strangers look like?” he asked, hooking the brass lock, shutting it, testing it, and taking the key from it while Kitty stood looking on, holding the water dipper in her hand. Shelly Linde stood back with the water bucket while the ranger completed his work.

  “Oh, these two look like just what they are,” said Porter. “They’re straight-up border trash.” He stared hard at Paco and Buckles as he tested his lock and took the key from it. He stepped over and handed the key to Longworth. “I notched each key, one, two and three notches, for which cell it goes to,” he said. “So you won’t have to fumble around if you have to open up in a hurry.”

  “Obliged,” said Longworth, taking the key from Porter, and the one from Sam as well.

  “I sent my boy out to bring back Doc Stanton,” said Porter. “He’s treating a sick buggy mare a few miles out of town.”

  “Obliged again,” said Sam.

  “Yeah, that’s thoughtful of you, Blacksmith,” Cadden Cullen said with a nasty smile. Sam noted that he slid a guarded glance over to Shelly Linde as he spoke.

  “Don’t talk to me, you murdering sonsabitches,” Porter erupted. “Far as I’m concerned, lynching is too good for yas. But the law is the law, and like any civilized man, I live by it.”

  “Lynching? Uh-oh, Ranger, you heard him. He said that word,” said Cadden. “Ain’t you going to bust his head for him, the way you did the livestock broker?”

  The wiry blacksmith gave the ranger a quick worried look.

  “No. He said it with the right attitude,” Sam replied, more for the blacksmith’s sake than for Cadden Cullen’s.

  As Kitty handed Shelly the dipper, Kitty saw the others looking away from her cell toward Cadden Cullen, and she made her move. She grasped Shelly’s hand and held it firmly as she leaned in close to her through the bars. “I know what you did,” she whispered almost into Shelly’s ear.

  Shelly looked shocked; her face turned ashen. She tried to jerk her hand free without the others noticing, but Kitty held it firmly, wearing a deceptively sweet smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll stay our little secret. You help me, and I’ll help you.”

  This time Shelly did pull her hand free, but only because Kitty released it as the ranger looked back around toward the two.

  “Thank you, young lady,” Kitty said in a normal tone of voice. “I needed that.” She ran a hand across her wet lips. Did the ranger hear anything, see anything? She wondered, staring at him. If he had, his eyes weren’t about to reveal it. I’ve learned that much about him, she told herself.

  Shelly Linde backed away from the cells. Sam saw the tremble in her hand as she hooked the dipper on the bucket’s edge. “I’ll go fetch some more water and heat it up for Doc Stanton when he gets here. I’ll find some bandages too.”

  Longworth stepped over closer to her and said in a soft voice, “Miss Shelly, I hope someday soon you’ll allow me to thank you properly for all your help.” As he spoke he guided her farther away from the cells. “I hope you’ll accompany me to dinner some evening?” he asked.

  “Oh, my . . .” Shelly paused and stood looking at him in silence for a moment. Finally she said, “Why, yes, Detective Longworth. I would be most pleased to dine with you.”

  With the three cells padlocked, Sam cut in for a second and said to Longworth, “I’m going to walk to the cantina and see what’s going on there.”

  Longworth turned from Shelly and said, “I—I’ll go with you, just in case—”

  “No,” said the ranger before Longworth finished his words. He knew the detective was more interested in talking to the young lady than in a cantina full of angry drunks. “We need you right here, keeping an eye on things. I’ll be all right.”

  “What’re you going to do?” Longworth asked.

  “Just straighten things out a little,” Sam said quietly.

  “I need to go get that water started,” Shelly said, sounding harried. She walked to the door.

  The ranger walked with her, opened the door for her and said, “After you, Miss Shelly. Then he gave Longworth a look and followed her out the door, onto the boardwalk.

  Chapter 18

  The ranger walked alongside Shelly on her way to the restaurant. Halfway there he said to her in a gentle tone, “I know you gave the Cullens the key, Miss Shelly.”

  They both walked on in silence for the next few yards, until the young woman stopped and broke into tears. “What’s going to happen to me, Ranger?” she asked in a shaky, frightened voice. “I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. He promised me they would slip out of the jail, leave town and never come back.”

  “He being Cadden Cullen?” Sam asked.

  “Yes, Cadden made me do it.” She stopped and corrected herself. “No, he didn’t make me do it. I’m the one to blame. But he was going to tell everybody about me if I didn’t help get him and his brother out of Wild Wind,” she said. “But I swear to you, Ranger Burrack, I never thought they would kill anybody.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed out of control. “I don’t think I can live with myself knowing I caused all this.”

  “Take it easy, Miss Shelly,” Sam said. “I’m not sure the Cullens killed anybody.”

  “You-You’re not?” Shelly asked.

  “No, I’m not,” said Sam. “It’s going to take some time to sort out what happened here, but I’ve got a hunch the Cullens and Kitty Dellaros made their break and got out of here. I think Paco Stazo and Huey Buckles did all the killing. I’m not saying that the other three wouldn’t have killed anybody who got in their way if it came to it. I’m just saying I don’t think they did.”

  “But I still did a terrible thing,” Shelly said. She continued to cry.

  Sam looked all around and saw eyes turn toward them. Rather than talk on the public street, he guided her into the doorway of a boarded-up shop and said, “All right, now. Take a deep breath and settle yourself down. You’re going to have to tell me everything.”

  “You’re right, Ranger,” she said. “I gave Cadden Cullen the key to the cells when I took their dinner to them. He and Kitty unlocked their cells. I hung the key on the wall peg when I came back and got their empty plates.”

  Sam looked at her closely as he considered what she’d told him. “That’s why Longworth saw the key hanging there before he went to sleep in the office,” he said.

  “Yes,” said Shelly. “The key was hanging there, but the cells were already unlocked.”

  “Longworth failed to shake the doors before he went to sleep,” Sam said aloud to himself. “Had he done that, the whole mess would have never happened.”

  “What? Shake the doors?” Shelly asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

  “Nothing,” Sam said, realizing it no longer mattered. What was done was done; no amount of reconsidering would change anything. He shook his head. “Go on,” he said to the young woman.

  “He—Cadden Cullen, that is—promised me they wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she said.

  “A promise from a man like Cadden Cullen isn’t worth the air it’s written on,” Sam offered.

  “I realized that now,” said Shelly. “Maybe I even realized it then. But I was desperate. I made myself believe his word was good.” She shook her head.

  “You were desperate?” Sam asked.

  But she didn’t answer him. Instead she said, “Still, I would never have agreed to do it if I thought it might have gotten anybody killed.” She trembled a little. “Just think: if Clayton had awakened when they were on their way out the door. . . .” She sobbed into her hands at the thought of what might have happened.
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br />   “What do you mean you were desperate?” Sam asked, pulling her hands down from her face, forcing her to continue on.

  “Desperate to get him out of my life,” Shelly said. “I would have done just about anything to get Cadden Cullen out of Wild Wind and away from me,” she said, sniffling, collecting herself. “Now it appears I’ve only made matters worse.”

  “Why? What’s between you two?” Sam asked. “What’s this outlaw holding over you?”

  Shelly just stared at him for a moment, reluctant to say any more.

  “Are the Cullen brothers kin of yours?” Sam asked, familiar with the strength of blood ties, and what it could force a person into doing.

  “No, Ranger, they are no kin of mine,” Shelly said. “I have no kin, none of any kind.”

  “Was Cadden Cullen your lover? Your beau?” Sam asked bluntly, pursuing the matter relentlessly.

  “No, he was not my lover,” Shelly replied just as bluntly. “He was my customer. I was a whore before I came to Wild Wind. Cadden Cullen knew it. He knew because I did it with him for money. He threatened to tell everybody here if I didn’t help him get out of jail and out of town.”

  “Your customer . . .” Sam pondered the information for a moment, then said, “But I was told you were only fourteen when you started working at the restaurant.”

  “Yes, I was,” she said, staring into his eyes. “I was fourteen years old when I bargained my way onto a freight wagon headed here from Abilene. Before that I was a whore in Abilene. I belonged to a whore-master named Rowan Garrity. He bought me from the conductor of an orphan train that was taking me to Abilene.”

  Sam studied her eyes, and knew she was telling the truth. “The conductor sold you to this fellow Rowan Garrity?” he asked quietly, keeping the rage from showing in his voice.

  “Yes,” said Shelly. “I was twelve. For a year Garrity kept me for special customers who paid extra for a young girl like me. But when I turned thirteen he turned me out into his brothel like all his other whores. I made up my mind to escape as soon as I could. Almost a year later, I did just that . . . and I made it all the way here to Wild Wind.”

  “How long ago was that?” Sam asked, working out her story in his mind.

  “It’s been seven years,” she said. “I found work at the restaurant. The owners, Bart and Rosemary Tinkens, are good to me. They trust me to watch their son, little Tommy.” She had stopped crying for a moment, but now fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I thought my past was behind me. I had a good life here—hard but good. Respectable, you know?”

  “I know,” Sam said quietly.

  “One night I went to take food to the jail to some new prisoners there,” she said, “and it all fell down around me.”

  “After seven years,” Sam said, “how did he ever recognize you?”

  “By this,” she said. She raised the hair on the side of her head and revealed a small blue heart tattooed just below her right ear. On either side of the heart where the initials RG in fancy Old English-style writing.

  “Rowan Garrity . . . ,” Sam said, translating the initials for himself.

  “It was his way of always being able to find us if we tried to run away,” said Shelly. She smoothed her hair back down into place. “Cadden had already said I looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t recall from where. Then he managed to see the tattoo while I was passing his tray through the food slot. He said, ‘Now I know where I’ve seen you before.’” She paused for a second, then said with a bitter tone, “He remembered everything about that night as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.”

  “And he started right away, threatening to tell if you didn’t help him and his brother escape,” Sam said, filling in the rest of the story for her.

  Shelly only nodded her bowed head. “I—I thought about poisoning him,” she said. “But I couldn’t bring myself to kill anyone, even someone as no-good as Cadden Cullen.”

  “I understand, Miss Shelly.” Sam drew her to him and held her, comforting her.

  After a moment, she took a deep breath and straightened. “All right, Ranger. I’m ready to admit what I did and take whatever comes my way.”

  Sam considered it. He took a step back from her and scratched his head under his hat band. He’d asked for the truth, and now he felt he’d gotten it. The problem with truth, he realized, was knowing what to do with it—how to use it wisely. He’d learned from experience that truth served no good unless wisely used.

  “Here’s a problem I have, Miss Shelly,” he said to her. “This is not my town. Wild Wind has an agreement with Western Railways. With Chief Bell dead, it’s up to Detective Longworth to decide what to do about you giving the key to the Cullen brothers. All I can do is report to Longworth what you’ve told me. Then it’s up to him to deal with the matter, best he sees fit.”

  Shelly looked heartbroken. “Once you tell him, he’ll have to arrest me,” she said, visualizing the shame she would have to face.

  “Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if you told him yourself. I know he cares for you, Miss Shelly. I see it in his eyes.”

  “And I care for him, Ranger,” Shelly replied. “This makes it all the harder for me to do.” She winced at the thought of what lay ahead of her.

  “Yes, I can see how it does,” Sam said. “But you’ve got to do it. Maybe your telling him will make it go easier for you.”

  “I’m not asking for mercy, Ranger,” she said. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

  “It’s not my job to decide who deserves mercy and who doesn’t,” Sam said, “nor is it yours. But you’ve got to tell Longworth, mercy or no.”

  She paused in dread, then said under her breath, “I’ll tell him. You have my word.” She looked ashamed. “If my word means anything now.”

  “It does,” Sam said without hesitation. “I want your word you’ll tell Longworth you gave the Cullens the key, and the reasons why you did it.” He stared deep into her eyes. “I also I want your word that you won’t tell him I know anything about the matter.” He raised a finger for emphasis and added in a firm tone, “Tell him and nobody else. Do you understand me?”

  The young woman looked a little confused. “But why, Ranger?”

  “Because that’s the deal, Miss Shelly,” the ranger said. “It’s Longworth’s town. It’s his call. Who he tells is up to him. I’m backing away from it.”

  “I’ll—I’ll tell him this evening, as soon as I can get him alone.”

  “Good,” said Sam, “see that you do.” He looked off toward the cantina, then back to her. “Now go on to the restaurant. I’ve got to take care of some business at the Belleza Grande.”

  “That’s it?” Shelly said, looking surprised and relieved that she gotten her ugly secret off of her chest.

  “Yep, that’s it, unless you want to argue with me,” he said.

  “No, Ranger,” she said in a serious tone, not catching his attempt at lightening the mood. “I don’t want to argue with you.” She turned and walked away, her arms folded across her chest, her head bowed in contemplation.

  The ranger watched her for a moment, knowing how Longworth felt about this woman. He shook his head slightly. Hearing this from her was either going to destroy Detective Clayton Longworth, or make him all the stronger. Welcome to the law, Detective , Sam said to himself.

  Inside the Belleza Grande Cantina, Chug Doherty was busily railing against the law and the unfairness of what the ranger had done to Fred Elliot. He did not see Sam walk in through the open doors and head straight across the floor toward him. With a shot glass full of whiskey raised in his hand, he gazed upward toward the ceiling, not seeing the worried faces of the men turn away from him and toward the ranger.

  Standing a few feet away, Vernon Reese didn’t see the ranger either, until it was too late. He did see Mama Jean cross herself with a fearful look on her face and duck down behind the bar. But by the time he realized trouble was coming, it had already arrived. The ranger’s rifle butt stabb
ed him hard in his stomach right where his ribs met. He had started to move for the Colt on his hip, but instead he buckled and fell to the floor with a sickening wheeze.

  “And I’ll say this too!” Doherty continued, staring up, not hearing Reese fall, nor seeing the crowd of drinkers suddenly pull away in every direction. “Lynching is too good for some sonsabitches—!” His words stopped short. “Whoa!” he shouted, flailing his arms and legs wildly, feeling himself suddenly rise into the air.

  His whiskey flew from his hand as the ranger hurried across the floor with him, holding him overhead by his neck and the seat of his trousers, and hurling headlong through the large, dusty glass window.

  “Madre Santa de Dios!” Mama Jean said to herself, rising in time to see and hear the loud crash of glass and the scream of the airborne outlaw.

  Along the bar the townsmen stared, wide-eyed and stunned, seeing Doherty come down onto the dirt street, rolling in a spray of glass and dust.

  “My God, he’s killed the man!” someone whispered, seeing Doherty lying limp in the street.

  “Help me,” Reese rasped.

  Sam walked back to the bar and picked up his rifle from the bar top where he’d laid it. Reese lay gasping for breath on the floor, clawing at the front of the bar. Sam looked down at the Colt in the outlaw’s holster, but made no effort to take the gun from him. Instead he turned with his rifle barrel aimed loosely at the shocked townsmen.

  “I see none of you explained my position on lynching to these men. Now look what it’s got them.”

  Joe Clancy found the courage to step forward and say angrily, “Ranger, you and Longworth can’t ride roughshod over this town! If we have to, we’ll tear up the agreement we have with Western Railways and send him packing. You too.”

  “Make no mistake, any of you,” Sam said, looking from one man to the next, “Clayton Longworth and Western Railways have nothing to do with me.”

  “You belong in Arizona Territory,” said Joe Clancy.