Missing Patriarch (9781101613399)

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Missing Patriarch (9781101613399) Page 8

by Roberts, J. R.


  * * *

  In another camp two fires were going. Around one sat Andy Donovan, Jimmy McCall, and Henry Carter. Around the other sat the rest of the men.

  “Tomorrow we’ll be in Mexico,” Donovan said.

  “You think the boys are gonna go that far?” Carter asked. “Mexico?”

  “If they want their share of the money, they will,” Donovan said.

  Carter looked at McCall, who had nothing to say.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Are you doin’ to Mexico?”

  Jimmy looked at Carter and said, “If Donovan’s goin’ to Mexico, that’s where I’m goin’.”

  Carter took his beans and walked to the other fire.

  “Do you know what he’s doin’ over there?” Jimmy asked Donovan.

  “Yeah, he’s doin’ what I tell him to do,” the gang leader said. “He’s keepin’ an eye on those guys, findin’ out what’s on their minds.”

  “And what do you think is on his mind?”

  “What are you gettin’ at?”

  “You’re afraid those men might turn on you sometime, huh?” Jimmy asked.

  “I keep my eye on them.”

  “And what about Henry?”

  “What about him?”

  “You trust him?”

  “Jimmy, you know me. You know I don’t trust anybody—not even you.”

  “Well, if I was you, I’d keep an eye on all of them,” Jimmy said. “Even Henry. Maybe especially Henry.”

  Donovan poured himself some more coffee, picked up his plate to finish his beans. Then he turned his head and looked over to where Carter was talking with the other men.

  “Jimmy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You wanna go home to your kids?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Keep me alive long enough to split the money, and you’ll be rich.”

  “Tell me somethin’.”

  “What?”

  “You intend to split this money with them at all?”

  “Probably not.”

  “So you need to turn on them before they turn on you,” Jimmy said.

  “I intend to.”

  “Then why not now?”

  “I’m not ready now.”

  “Mexico?”

  “I’ll probably be ready there. And I’ll need you to help me.”

  “It would be good if you had Carter, too.”

  “We’ll see,” Donovan said. “But you and me, we can handle them if we have to.”

  “How much money do we have, Andy?” Jimmy asked.

  “Almost enough,” Donovan said, “almost enough.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Three days out from Windspring, Clint woke up to the smell of fresh coffee.

  “You made a pot?” he asked, rolling out of his bedroll.

  “I thought I might try pulling my weight,” Willis said. “Want some jerky?”

  “Sure.”

  Willis handed him a piece of jerk, and then a cup of coffee. He watched while Clint sipped it.

  “How is it?”

  “Not bad,” Clint said. “Not bad at all. You’re learning.”

  “You said you liked it strong,” Willis said. “It almost ate through the bottom of the pot.”

  Clint laughed and said, “That’s strong, all right.”

  Willis smiled, sipped, and winced, then they both laughed.

  “How far out are we from Mexico?”

  “A couple of days.”

  “And how far behind the gang are we?”

  “Three days, maybe more,” Clint said. “By my reckoning, they’re already in Mexico.”

  “And we’re definitely crossing after them?”

  “I am,” Clint said. “I don’t know about you.”

  “Oh, if you’re going, I’m going, too,” Willis said.

  “Then let’s finish this elaborate breakfast and get going.”

  * * *

  Donovan and his gang stopped at a small village called San Angel. Little more than a collection of adobe buildings housing a cantina, a small hotel, and a church.

  “You boys go ahead and get something to drink or eat,” Donovan said, “or both. Aikens, you and Booth take the horses to the stables. Don’t unsaddle them. We won’t be stayin’.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “And don’t nobody get drunk,” Donovan said. “Jimmy, you come with me.”

  “Okay.”

  McCall gave the reins of his horse to Aikens, then followed Donovan on foot.

  “Where are we goin’?” Jimmy asked.

  “The hotel.”

  “I thought we weren’t stayin’.”

  “We’re not.”

  “Then why are we goin’ to the hotel?”

  “To meet somebody.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  * * *

  Henry Carter went into the cantina with four of the other men, including Long.

  They bellied up to the bar and ordered tequila or beer, then asked the bartender for some tacos.

  “Sí, señor,” he said. “Immediatamente!”

  Long and Carter moved to one end of the bar, where the others couldn’t hear them.

  “So what do you think?” Long asked.

  “Not yet,” Carter said. “Not here. We don’t have all the men yet.”

  “We have enough,” Long said.

  “No,” Carter said, “we need them all.”

  “There’s just Billings and Dade.”

  “We need them. That’ll just leave Donovan with Jimmy McCall to back him.”

  “You can’t get McCall over to our side?”

  “I doubt it,” Carter said. “I’ll feel him out, but I doubt it. I think we’re gonna have to kill him, too. A shame.”

  “Why?”

  “All he wants to do is get back to his kids.”

  “So tell him if we kill Donovan, he can go see his kids. Hell, we’ll all go see his kids.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Carter said. “For now let’s just eat and drink before Donovan comes in here and yells at us to mount up.”

  “Why isn’t he in here eatin’?”

  “I don’t know,” Carter said. “I’m not gonna worry about that now.”

  They moved down the bar to join the other men eating tacos and washing them down with beer and tequila.

  * * *

  When they entered the hotel, the desk clerk had his head down on the desk, snoring.

  Donovan walked to the desk and slapped his hand down on it. The clerk jerked his head up, eyes wide.

  “Sí, señor?” he said. “Do you need a room?”

  “I’m looking for a man named Rodrigo.”

  “Rodrigo?”

  “Yes.”

  “I do not know—”

  Donovan drew his gun and pointed it at the man, whose eyes went wide.

  “Let’s try again.”

  “Sí, señor,” the man said. “Rodrigo is in Room 5. He is, uh, with someone.”

  “That’s okay,” Donovan said. “We’ll just interrupt him.”

  “Sí, señor.”

  Donovan holstered his gun.

  “You can go back to sleep now.”

  “Sí, señor. Gracias, señor.”

  Donovan looked at McCall and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Are we gonna need our guns?”

  “No,” Donovan said. “Rodrigo is expecting me.”

  “So he won’t mind being interrupted while he’s . . . with his guest?”

  Donovan laughed.

  “Oh, yeah, he’ll be mad,” he said, “but that’s jus
t too damn bad.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  When they got to the door of Room 5, they heard sounds from inside, two people grunting and groaning.

  “Maybe we should wait,” Jimmy McCall said.

  “No time,” Donovan said. He reached for the doorknob, turned it, found the door unlocked. He slammed it open.

  At the sound of the door hitting the wall, the man on the bed leaped off it and went for the gun on the chair next to him.

  “Easy, Rodrigo!” Donovan yelled.

  Rodrigo stopped and stared at Donovan. When he recognized him, he relaxed and stood up straight, ignoring his gun. He was naked, and aroused.

  The girl on the bed was naked, a dark-haired, dark-skinned Mexican woman who was forty if she was a day. She had a body that had once been bountiful, but now sagged. Still, she probably looked good to a man who had spent many days on horseback.

  “Cabron!” she said.

  Jimmy didn’t know if she was cursing Donovan, or Rodrigo.

  “We need to talk, Rodrigo.”

  “Mi amigo, Donovan,” Rodrigo said. “Como esta?”

  “I’m doin’ fine, Rodrigo,” Donovan said. “Sorry to interrupt you.” He walked to the bed, took out some money, and dropped it on the mattress. “There you go, señorita. Now git!”

  She grabbed at the money, then hopped off the bed and picked her clothes up from the floor. She didn’t bother putting them on, just carried them with her as she went out into the hall. McCall closed the door behind her.

  “Get dressed, Rodrigo,” Donovan said. “Nobody wants to look at your tallywacker.”

  The Mexican grabbed his pants and pulled them on, covering his wilting penis.

  “My friend, it is so good to see you,” he said. “Who is this?”

  “My compadre, Jimmy McCall,” Donovan said. “My men are over at the cantina.”

  “Perhaps we should go there and join them?”

  “In a minute,” Donovan said. “You got the information I need?”

  “Sí, as promised,” Rodrigo said.

  “Let’s have it.”

  Rodrigo crossed the room, took something out of his saddlebags. As McCall watched, the man unfurled it and he realized it was a map of Mexico. Rodrigo spread it out on the bed.

  “C’mere, Jimmy.”

  Donovan and Jimmy approached the bed. Rodrigo pointed to something on the map.

  “This town is called Casa Madera. It is the one you want.”

  Donovan pointed. “It’s kind of close to Mexico City.”

  “That’s why it has so much money, señor,” Rodrigo said.

  “And what about law?”

  “That you will have to go in and see for yourself, señor.”

  “That’ll be my man Jimmy’s job,” Donovan said. “But if they put out the word they been hit, how long before some troops from Mexico City can make it there?”

  “You will have two hours, señor. Perhaps more.”

  “Okay, that’s good.”

  Jimmy put his hand on Donovan’s arm.

  “Two hours is cutting it close.”

  “Don’t worry,” Donovan said. “We’ll be fine as long as you do your part.” He looked at the Mexican. “Let me have that map, Rodrigo. Why don’t you go over to the cantina and have a drink on me. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Sí, señor,” Rodrigo said. “A drink sounds very good. Muy bien.”

  Rodrigo put on his shirt and boots and hurried from the room, as if he thought all the tequila would be gone before he got there.

  Donovan turned to Jimmy.

  “You got questions?”

  “Yeah, I got questions,” McCall said. “I thought we were coming to Mexico to split the money.”

  “We are,” Donovan said, “but we’re gonna get a little more before we do that.”

  “You want me to scout a Mexican town? I’ll stick out like . . . well, a gringo in a Mexican town.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Donovan said. “Mexico is filthy with gringos.”

  “So this is why you didn’t want to get rid of the other men yet,” McCall said. “One more job.”

  “One more,” Donovan said, “then you’ll have your money and you can go back to your kids.”

  “Is this on the level, Andy?”

  “On the level, Jimmy. Now why don’t we go and get somethin’ to eat?”

  “Yeah,” McCall said, “okay.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Clint and Willis stopped and looked out over the Rio Grande.

  “Can we ride across that?” Willis asked. “Looks like it’s moving pretty fast.”

  “We’ll find a place to cross,” Clint said.

  “What about the tracks we were following?”

  “We’ll pick them up again on the other side,” Clint said.

  Willis wasn’t so sure.

  “Will the horses be okay?”

  “The horses will be fine,” Clint assured him. “Don’t worry.”

  “I can’t really swim,” Willis said.

  “Just stay in the saddle,” Clint said, “and the horse will take you across.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Just follow me.”

  Clint gigged his horse and started toward the river. Willis waited a moment, then followed, still not sure he was going to make it to the other side.

  They rode for a few minutes, then Clint turned and said, “We’ll cross here.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’ll go first,” Clint said. “All you have to watch for is anything dangerous coming down the river.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “I mean like a big branch or log,” Clint said. “You don’t want to get hit by anything.”

  “But what if—” Willis started, but he stopped when Clint urged Eclipse into the river.

  He watched as Clint and Eclipse expertly negotiated the river. He saw what Clint meant about giving the horse his head. Eclipse seemed to know exactly what to do, and there was no flotsam coming down the river, heading for them.

  Eventually, Clint got to the other side, turned, and waved to Willis.

  Willis gigged his horse forward. The animal stepped gingerly into the water, and Willis wondered if his horse had ever done anything like this before.

  They moved into the water, which eventually came up to his knees. Willis kept looking upriver for logs, trees, or maybe a shark. He’d been on a ship once, had seen sharks and, at one point, a whale. Whales were too big for the river, but the Rio Grande would accommodate a shark just fine.

  The horse began to cross with authority and Willis felt that he had been concerned for no reason. Yeah, he was more comfortable in a courtroom than on a horse, but this wasn’t so bad.

  Suddenly, he became aware that Clint was yelling and waving to him. It looked like he was pointing upriver. Willis looked and saw a large tree branch coming toward him. There were branches sticking up from the water, but in the water was a solid chunk of tree.

  “Damn it,” he said, kicking his horse in the sides to try and get it to go faster. He wished he had spurs on.

  The branch kept getting closer, and it seemed to him that he and the horse were just treading water—then suddenly there was ground beneath them, and the horse was taking him onto shore as the tree went by.

  Clint rode over to meet him.

  “I thought you were going to ride in right after me,” he said.

  “I decided to watch you do it,” Willis said. He hadn’t realized how out of breath he was.

  “Well, you’re lucky that tree missed you,” Clint said. “Your horse knew what to do.”

  Willis opened his mouth to speak, but he still hadn’t caught his breath.

>   “Take a minute and relax,” Clint said. “I’m going to check up and down the river for tracks.”

  Willis dismounted, then his legs went out on him and he found himself sitting on the ground. He held on to his horse’s reins, though, so the animal didn’t go wandering off.

  He tried to breathe.

  * * *

  Clint rode along the river’s edge, trying to find tracks left by the gang, but it had been days since they had forded the river.

  He moved away from the river’s shore a bit, and that was when he found the tracks. He rode back to Willis, who was sitting on the ground, panting.

  “You okay?”

  Willis waved.

  “I found their tracks,” he said. “You up to moving on?”

  Willis waved again, staggered to his feet. Clint watched as he struggled to get back into the saddle, but he did it.

  “Okay,” Clint said, “just follow me.”

  THIRTY

  Donovan and McCall sat in a corner at a table that was covered with enchiladas, frijoles refritos, and tortillas.

  “Hey,” Donovan called to the waitress, “mas cervezas!”

  “Sí, señor.”

  “That’s a good-lookin’ señorita,” Donovan said. “Why don’t you try your luck?”

  “No, thanks,” McCall said. “She’s all yours.”

  “I just might,” Donovan said, cutting into an enchilada.

  “You’re supposed to pick those up and eat ’em,” McCall said.

  “What am I, an animal?” Donovan asked.

  McCall shook his head, picked up an enchilada, and bit into it.

  The waitress came over with two more beers and set them down. Donovan slapped her on the ass.

  “Yeah,” he said as she walked away, “if we wuz stayin’ here overnight, I’d give her a ride she wouldn’t forget.”

  McCall nodded, bit into his enchilada again.

  * * *

  Across the room, Henry Carter was sitting with Long and two other men. The rest were at the bar. Rodrigo was standing at one end of the bar alone.

  “What do you know about this Mex?” Long asked Carter.

  “Nothin’,” Carter said, “I never heard of ’im.”

  “Is he gonna be ridin’ with us?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “So that’s another gun on Donovan’s side.”

 

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