Though Emmett’s voice was low, his tone was firm. “Geneve didn’t do it.”
“In my years as a lawman, I’ve seen crazier things,” VanDorn said.
Emmett met his gaze. “Like I said, Geneve wouldn’t do that to him.”
“Not in a hundred years.” Juanito shook his head slowly.
“She might not’ve been ready to get hitched to the fella just yet, but there’s no question she liked him.”
“She liked him a lot,” Li said.
VanDorn rested a booted foot across his knee and hooked an arm over the back of the chair. “You don’t figure Taft would send somebody all the way to San Antonio to take revenge, do you?”
“Over Geneve alone? I don’t think so.” Emmett looked at Li questioningly.
Li pursed her lips. “She didn’t talk much about Taft. But from the little she told me, I don’t think he had any special feelings for her. Nothing beyond the money she brought him doing…what she did.” She blushed lightly.
“But the stolen money,” VanDorn said. “He might’ve run you boys down over that, right?”
Emmett shrugged. “I don’t know the man’s resources—manpower or money.”
“Well, I don’t think Taft himself has left El Paso, not since the day he claimed he was robbed. It would have to have been hired help. Or somebody real loyal to him.”
“If Sikes’s death had anything at all to do with El Paso.” Juanito eyed Emmett.
Meeting Juanito’s gaze, Emmett pondered for a moment, then said, “McIntosh?”
Juanito angled his head. “McIntosh said he had a dozen fast guns that would chase us all the way back to the Rio Grande.”
Li slipped her hand inside Emmett’s arm and entwined her fingers between his.
Emmett knew Li had been having nightmares. She hadn’t wanted to talk about them, and the only thing he’d been able to get out of her was that the dreams had to do with Lucian McIntosh. Whether they were about what happened to her while she was being held captive in his house or about reprisal after their escape, he still had no idea.
“McIntosh,” VanDorn said. “Refresh my memory.”
“The big boss up in Nevada,” Emmett said. “Runs a string of saloons, gambling parlors, and bed houses. Got a lot of his calico by kidnapping. My brother’s murderer and the other Blaylock both worked for him.”
“McIntosh didn’t take too kindly to us interfering with his business,” Juanito said.
Emmett glanced at Li. “But McIntosh’s and Blaylock’s doings became personal. We had to step in.”
Li clung tighter to Emmett’s arm.
VanDorn pushed his Stetson back and scratched his head. “And you think McIntosh may have kept his word—sent a gunslick or two?”
“We set him back enough. A lot more’n Taft claims we set him back.”
“Then is it possible that this McIntosh fella—himself ownin’ a bunch of saloons—knows Taft? Maybe he talked to Taft about hangin’ this Wild Hog Saloon robbery on you?”
After staring at the blank wall above VanDorn’s head for a moment, Emmett said, “That’d be a real long shot. McIntosh knows nothing about Geneve. He had no idea we’d be stopping in at any particular saloon in El Paso.”
It was quiet for a long minute.
Emmett stood. Leaning against the wall near the head of the bed, he said, “Jack, how’d it come about that you got your hands on this telegram?”
VanDorn uncrossed his legs and heaved a sigh. “Deputy brought it in while Alonzo Perry and I were havin’ a little talk.”
“So what’d the deputy say about a telegram for Juanito comin’ here? To El Paso?”
“Marshal asked me flat out where you two were.”
“And you said…”
“Hell, Emmett. They ’bout had it figured out.”
Emmett shoved off the wall. “So both of ’em know we’re here in El Paso.”
“They do.”
“Well, ain’t that just grand. Surprised they didn’t come down here with you.”
“They are comin’. Tonight.”
Emmett felt his ears infuse with blood. Knuckles on his hips now, he said, “Here? Tonight?”
“The cat’s outta the bag, pard. Might as well plan together now, so we don’t trip each other up.”
“And you think the marshal’s gonna let Juanito and me work on this investigation when we’re the accused?”
VanDorn threw up his hands. “You can head on back to San Antonio if you like. Let me and the marshal handle the inquest.”
Emmett glanced at the small, curtained window. He figured from the intensity of the light that it couldn’t be any later than maybe two o’clock. “Where’s the hotel register?”
“In my saddle bag,” VanDorn answered.
“The marshal seen it?”
“Yep.”
“What’d he think?”
“Thinks the same thing you said—that without a specific time of day recorded, Taft may swear you had to have gotten there late that afternoon.”
“And you told the marshal about Sid and the other two witnesses?”
“I did. We will need their testimony.”
Emmett’s mind was racing. Finally he nodded. “OK. Here, tonight. What time?”
“Half hour past nightfall.”
“Only the marshal and his deputy, right?”
VanDorn hesitated. “That’s right.”
Emmett snatched a glance at his wife. She wore a worried expression. “I don’t know about you two gents, but Li and I could use a siesta between now and then.”
At that, VanDorn stood and met each gaze in turn—Juanito’s, Li’s, and then Emmett’s. “Reckon I’ll let you folks get some rest then. See you tonight.”
Juanito rose and opened the door for Jack.
As the senior ranger passed Juanito on the way out onto the open wooden passageway that hung across the backside of the building, he said, “You must be right next door, eh, compadre?”
“Sí, right here.” Juanito motioned toward the door to the left.
Emmett stepped to the doorway.
VanDorn peered at them over his shoulder just before he headed down the stairs.
“Might wanna take a few minutes elsewhere,” Emmett murmured to Juanito. “Watch him till he’s gone, then make your way back here. We’ve got some plans to refigure.”
Juanito nodded. “Indeed we do, hermano.”
Twenty minutes later Juanito was back inside Emmett and Li’s room, seated on the chair Jack VanDorn had occupied before.
“You’re sure Jack’s gone?” Emmett asked.
“He mounted up and left right away,” Juanito said. “I waited five minutes inside the cantina. Then I took a little stroll. Checked the next few streets.”
Emmett sat next to Li on the edge of the bed again. “Sikes never struck me as the type who’d go looking for trouble, and San Antonio’s nowhere near as wild as it used to be. The way I figure it, somebody came looking for him. Maybe for all of us.”
“Taft?” Juanito asked. “Or Lucian McIntosh?”
“That’s something I want to find out and find out fast.”
“I’m worried about Geneve,” Li said.
“If our amigo Sikes had to die,” Juanito murmured, “I hope it at least bought her enough time to run.”
“She might’ve recognized the shooter. Maybe ran before the shooting started,” Emmett said.
Juanito shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I just hope we haven’t seen the last of her.”
“You don’t think she could be with Mama Galvez and your father?” Li asked.
“The telegram said she’s disappeared.”
Li met Emmett’s gaze, her brows knit.
His guts told him Geneve was indeed in trouble, no matter who it was t
hat shot Sikes. McIntosh, Taft—neither one showed proper regard for women. If she was still alive, time mattered. Yet even if they were to leave for San Antonio right away, by the time they’d arrive back there, she could be anywhere.
Emmett recalled Gabriela’s death. Heartrending as it had been, it had come at the end of a random, senseless encounter with a half-drunk hombre, hell-bent for trouble. His brother, Eli, on the other hand…Eli’s murderer had been planning and plotting and waiting for years, either to screw up the courage or to find the opportunity. Which was it with Sikes? Pure, pointless chance? Or somebody—maybe McIntosh, maybe Taft—on the hunt for the four of them?
“I need some answers.” The bed creaked as he stood. “I’m going to go have a little face-to-face with Franklin Taft.”
“Emmett! You can’t just walk—”
“It will surely come to shooting, hermano,” Juanito cut in, scraping his chair on the wood floor as he rose. “Let’s at least go in together.”
Emmett took Li’s hand. “Li, you’re gonna wear that duster, take up a spot behind the Wild Hog, and cover the back door.” He looked across the tiny room. “Juanito, you’re gonna cover the front of the place, and I’m gonna walk in by myself.”
Li shook her head vehemently. “No.”
“Why by yourself?” Juanito protested. “What will that gain you?”
Emmett met his brother-in-law’s piercing gaze. “Franklin Taft is a card sharp. He’s no leather slapper.”
“How do you know? Plenty of gamblers are quick on the draw. And dirty about it, too.”
“You got the drop on him the day we went in for Geneve.”
“Sí, but he never really went for his gun that day.”
“Plus, he hired a lookout man—something the Wild Hog’s previous owner never had.”
“Hedging his bets.” Juanito spread his hands.
“Look,” Emmett said, “if we go in with a show of force, that’s when somebody gets spooked and skins his smoke wagon with no real cause. If I go in alone, I’m less threatening, more likely to be able to sit down and talk things over with Taft.”
Li looked unconvinced.
He tried to sound matter-of-fact. “Worst they’ll likely do is haul me down to the marshal’s office—which may happen anyway, once Jack brings the marshal and his deputy back here tonight.”
“And best scenario, what do you hope to get out of this?” Juanito stared hard.
“Find out whether Taft had anything to do with Sikes’s murder. Or whether we’ve got two outfits gunning for us.”
“Emmett,” Li said.
He turned to her.
“At your side, I’d walk into that saloon,” she said. “It wouldn’t scare me. But me covering you alone? Juanito may be used to backing you up in situations like this. I’m not. If they bring you out the back with you unarmed…I just don’t know if I’m ready to do this. If I made a bad choice and got you killed…”
Emmett looked her in the eye. “I trust you, Li. You’re a strong woman.” He tried to smile, but in that split second, in his mind, he saw the scene playing out—only he envisioned not himself but Li getting shot. Perhaps she was right.
He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had to find out what they were up against. If things went bad inside the saloon, could he count on being faster than Taft and his lookout man and his barkeep? Or was there another way?
Li stood and wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t go down there, Emmett. Please.”
What choice did he have? He needed to know who was gunning for them, whether to worry about McIntosh having sent men down here to Texas to look for them. And he needed answers before the town marshal decided to lock him up, pending a trial.
Juanito interrupted his contemplations. “Do you have a strategy for getting out of Taft’s place in one piece?”
Emmett shook his head. “There’s no way to know that until I get inside.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In the shadows of the narrow alley alongside the dry goods store directly behind the Wild Hog Saloon, Emmett took his wife gently by the shoulders. “Don’t get into a shoot-out back here, Li.”
Juanito stood watch a few steps away at the mouth of the alley.
Li shrugged Emmett’s hands from her shoulders. “If you insist on going inside—”
He touched his finger to her lips. “Just stand watch. Don’t let ’em even know you’re here. If they bring me out this way, wait till they’ve gone, then run tell Juanito which way they’ve taken me.”
“Emmett, if you’re so set on going inside alone, don’t try to talk me out of doing whatever it takes out here. Not when I’m just working up the courage to do it.”
He shook his head. “If you need to use that Lightning to protect yourself”—he patted her holster—“then by all means do—”
She stamped her foot. “Emmett! I can’t promise exactly what I’ll do. It depends on what happens to you.”
“Like I said before, worst they’ll do is take me over to the marshal’s office. It’s not worth you getting shot over that.”
“Trust him, angelita,” Juanito said. “He and I have been doing this kind of thing for a while now.”
She glowered at both of them. “I don’t like it.”
Emmett kissed her forehead and whispered, “Keep a cool head. I trust you.”
She let out a sigh.
Emmett turned to Juanito. “Find a good spot out front—across the street, maybe.”
After touching the brim of his hat, Juanito set off up the main alley.
Emmett drew Li close. She melted into him.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“If you go and get yourself killed,” she said, “you know I’ll never speak to you again.”
He chuckled.
She pulled free then swatted his backside. “So go on. Get this done and over with.”
One last glance at her, and he headed for the front of the saloon.
At the Wild Hog’s front doors, he paused to scan the street for Juanito. His brother-in-law was nowhere in sight. Counting on him having found a concealed observation point, he drew a deep breath and pushed his way through the swinging doors.
A quick survey of the barroom, and he noted that Mackey, rather than perching on the tall barstool where he’d been last time, was at a table with what looked to be two saddle stiffs. So it probably wasn’t Mackey who gunned down Sikes, he thought. Wouldn’t likely be back in El Paso just yet.
Customers occupied only one other table—three ordinary hombres playing cards beneath a thick cloud of cigar and cigarette smoke.
The bartender spotted Emmett first, and recognition registered on his face instantly. He drifted to his left and called out for Mackey.
The lookout turned first to the bar and then, on the barkeep’s gesture, toward Emmett.
Showing both men the palms of his hands, Emmett said, “I’d like to have a word with Mr. Taft.”
He couldn’t see the bartender’s mitts, but he assumed one of them was on the LeMat revolver he kept behind the counter. Mackey had grabbed his twelve-gauge and was now on his feet.
“Why, you’re a brazen one,” the lookout man said.
Hands still at chest height, palms forward, Emmett studied Mackey. A subtle smirk formed on the lookout’s face.
“You can see I didn’t come here to fight,” Emmett said. “Now if you’ll be so kind as to go fetch your boss…”
“You gimme your guns first.” Mackey began to level the shotgun at him.
“Not so hostile with that scattergun, Mackey. I don’t wanna have to burn you down today.”
With the business end of the street howitzer a little shy of level, the lookout wavered a beat. To Emmett’s eye, it looked as though Mackey’s bravado had flickered for an instant, like when a candle
flame sputters in the face of a sudden gust of wind. Then it was back.
“You ain’t that fast—”
Just like that, Emmett’s hand was on the grips of his Colt, and he had the six-gun half drawn. “You don’t wanna test me today. I promise.” His gaze flicked to the barkeep, then back to Mackey. He knew well that the only thing that stood between that shotgun and his own death was the resolve of the man holding it.
Everybody in the room glared at Emmett for a long, silent moment.
Mackey began to back toward the bar. “OK. I’ll fetch Mr. Taft. But by Henry, I’ll splatter your parts all over them doors if you don’t get your hand off that pistolo.”
Questioning his own mental stability, Emmett paused then said, “Listen, I’m gonna use two fingers, pull the pistol out, and lay it on the table. It’ll stay there till I’m through talking with Mr. Taft.”
“How do I know you ain’t got an ace in the hole?”
“If I’d wanted to come in here to shoot the place up, I wouldn’t have come in all by my lonesome. Now, I’m gonna set my gun down, you hear?” Emmett proceeded to gingerly lift his Colt.
Mackey took another step back.
Emmett’s gun was now clear of his holster. Still holding it with thumb and middle finger alone, he placed it on the table nearest the door. “Now jingle your spurs and go get your boss,” he said.
“I’ll get Mr. Taft,” the barkeep said. “You keep him covered with that shotgun.”
A few long minutes later, the bartender, Miss Lindsey, and Franklin Taft descended the stairs.
Taft was fastening a cufflink. His face was like flint. “What the hell do you want? And why the hell aren’t you in jail?”
“I want to talk,” Emmett said. “With you. In private.”
Taft scoffed. “After all you’ve done?”
“I’m not heeled. You can have Miss Lindsey come pat me down if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
At the base of the stairs now, Taft tossed a nod toward his bartender and said, “Willie here can pat you down.”
Willie started forward but stopped short when Emmett said, “Nope. The lady or nobody.” If Taft was going to insist on him being patted down, that was one thing. But he didn’t cotton to the idea that Willie might try to slip a choke hold on him.
Strong Suspicions (Emmett Strong Westerns Book 2) Page 13
