THE BOUNTY: Twentieth in a Series of Jess Williams Westerns (A Jess Williams Western Book 20)

by Robert J. Thomas

  “You should’ve looked harder,” implied Jess, swallowing his stew.

  Liam Elder slowly edged closer, dragging his sawed off along the top of the bar, a hard-edged look on his face. Jess took another large bite of the stew and began chewing it, watching every move the two men made; his right hand down by the butt of his pistol. Elder stopped when he was even with Snowden, his right hand still holding the sawed off. Elder’s mouth twitched a little and his left eye wandered around oddly.

  “We deserve some of that three thousand dollars,” snapped Elder.

  “Really?” asked Jess, his mouth still full of stew.

  “That’s right,” added Snowden. “We ain’t collected any bounty money in six months and we’s about all cashed out.” Jess swallowed his stew and turned to face the two men.

  “And that’s my problem somehow?”

  “We’re just asking for an even split.”

  “Look, I’m collecting that money in the morning, but I’m not splitting it with you two,” explained Jess firmly. “If you need a little cash to get you by for a while, I’ll give you a hundred dollars of it.”

  Snowden and Elder exchanged looks and Snowden started laughing out loud. Elder joined in and the two of them laughed for a few seconds and then, in less than a heartbeat, they stopped laughing and glared at Jess.

  “Hear that Elder?” Snowden asked his partner mockingly. “He’s gonna give us a whole hundred dollars.”

  “Sure don’t sound like half of three thousand dollars,” barked Elder.

  “Nope, don’t sound like that to me neither,” agreed Snowden, spitting on the floor indignantly. Jess watched Elder slowly bring the sawed off along the top of the bar some more and before it was pointed in Jess’ direction, Jess gave Elder an uneasy look.

  “You move that sawed off any further in my direction and you’ll never see that hundred dollars,” Jess told him bluntly. Elder stopped the movement of the gun and scowled at Jess.

  “We’re collecting that money on Miller tomorrow,” smirked Elder.

  “You think so?” Jess asked cagily.

  “Yeah,” added Snowden, “because you ain’t gonna be there to collect it.”

  Elder swung the sawed off from the top of the bar at the same time as Snowden slapped leather.

  Elder dropped the sawed off on the saloon floor as the first bullet from Jess’ pistol caught him in the throat, ripping a hole clean through it. Elder stumbled backward several steps holding the gaping wound with his left hand as he fell to the floor, his feet kicking a few times before leaving for the next world.

  The second slug that Jess fanned from his pistol found Snowden’s chest just to the left of his heart, knocking him backward until he fell onto a table, breaking one of the legs. He slid off the table and fell face forward onto the floor and when he did, he reached down and pulled his second gun out and rolled over and brought the pistol up.

  Jess saw the movement and he fanned two more slugs into Snowden, one tearing a hole through his heart and the second one smacked him in the forehead, knocking his head down on the floor hard. Jess walked over and looked at both men and shook his head as he replaced the spent cartridges in his pistol. He looked into Elder’s lifeless eyes and frowned.

  “You should have taken the hundred.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next morning found Jess walking down the steps of Matilda’s carrying his saddlebags and two rifles. Matilda was sitting in a chair in the little kitchen and drinking coffee with one of her other renters, an older gentleman wearing a blue pinstriped suit with a black tie adorning a bright yellow shirt that matched his bright yellow socks that filled a very fancy pair of shoes.

  “I suppose that was you doing all that shooting last night over at Rooster’s?” Matilda asked sarcastically.

  “Why would you automatically assume it was me?” asked Jess resentfully.

  “So are you saying it wasn’t you?” questioned Matilda smartly.

  “Yeah it was me, but they started it,” offered Jess, wondering why he even needed to provide an explanation to the woman. Matilda nodded at her other renter.

  “This is Mr. Withers,” explained Matilda. “He’s staying in room one. He’s a shoe salesman from Kentucky and he doesn’t carry a gun.”

  “Well good for him,” responded Jess. “If someone tries to attack him, he can throw a shoe at them. I’m sure that’ll chase them off.” Withers chuckled and reached out and shook hands with Jess.

  “Nice to meet you, Sir,” Withers said in a loud voice.

  “Nice colors,” observed Jess looking at Withers outfit again.

  “You want some breakfast,” muttered Matilda. “It comes with the room.”

  “What do you have?”

  “You want it or not?”

  “Are you related to the town Marshal?”

  “And just what does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” said Jess, grinning. There was an awkward silence for a moment or two while Jess and Matilda looked at one another. Finally Matilda pointed to the stove.

  “I’ve got flapjacks ready to go on the stove,” Matilda finally offered reluctantly. “You want some or not?” Jess looked at the flapjacks on Withers plate and they did look inviting.

  “I’ll take some,” offered Jess as he sat his things down and took one of the chairs across from Withers and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table.

  Matilda stood up and waddled to the stove top and ladled out five large flapjacks that quickly began cooking in the butter and bacon fat. When she finished, she put them on a large plate and sat it down in front of Jess. Jess poured some maple syrup on them and slathered some butter in between the layers and took a huge bite.

  “Pretty good,” Jess muttered with his mouth full.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” snapped Matilda in a motherly tone. Jess didn’t respond, he just chewed his food and smiled at her. Withers finished up with his breakfast and washed it down with his coffee and smiled at Jess.

  “I hear you’re one of them bounty hunters,” Withers said timidly.

  “I am.”

  “Is that what the shooting was about last night?” Withers asked warily. “Were you killing or arresting some bad men for the bounty on their heads?” Jess swallowed his food and took a large swallow of coffee.

  “Not exactly,” said Jess bluntly. “They insisted they were going to collect the bounty on the stinker I brought in yesterday.” Matilda gave Jess a disgusted look.

  “I think that’s a horrible profession to be engaged in,” snapped Matilda. “Going around and killing people for money.” Jess gave her a strained look.

  “Matilda, do you have any grandsons?” Jess asked her bluntly.

  “I have two, one of them is seven and the other is twelve, why do you ask?”

  “Because the stinker I turned in yesterday killed a twelve year old boy by shooting him three times in the chest,” explained Jess. “Of course, that was after he killed the boy’s father right in front of him for a few dollars.”

  “Oh my,” exclaimed Matilda.

  “And did I forget to tell you that he also raped the boy’s mother while the boy was forced to watch because he was tied up to a chair, probably crying for the help that never came,” continued Jess sharply.

  “That’s just awful,” groaned Matilda.

  “And just so you know, that stinker broke into at least two other family’s homes in the middle of the night, killing the man of the house, raping the wife, including any young daughters, and then robbing them of all their money,” added Jess for good measure.

  “I don’t want to hear any more,” exclaimed Matilda, almost in tears.

  “I didn’t kill that stinker for the money. I killed him for the boy and his mother,” offered Jess tensely. “If the law doesn’t catch them, I do.” Matilda squirmed in her chair and forced a smile.

  “Maybe I’ve misjudged you Mr. Williams,” Matilda apologized sheepishly.

  Withers sa
t there silently drinking his coffee, but he gave Jess a knowing smile that said he understood. There was a quick rap on the door and the town Marshal walked into the boarding house and he was holding a small canvas bank bag.

  “Morning Miss Matilda,” the Marshal said dryly.

  “Would you like some flapjacks, Marshal?” Matilda asked.

  “No, I’m just here to pay Mr. Williams his bounty money,” replied the Marshal, putting the bag of money on the table. “It’s all there in large bills; all four thousand dollars of it.” Matilda gasped and Withers had a stunned look on his face. Jess looked up at the Marshal.

  “But the bounty was only three thousand,” examined Jess.

  “It seems that Web Miller raped and killed a thirteen year old girl about a week before you caught up with him, so they raised the bounty on him,” explained the Marshal. “Lucky you caught him before he did it again.” Jess looked at Matilda, who was sitting there with her jaw wide open, an astonished look on her face.

  “You made four thousand dollars killing one man?” asked Withers abruptly.

  “It would seem so,” replied Jess, folding the money up and sticking it into his saddlebags.

  “That’s more money than I made in my best year,” chuckled Withers.

  “Yeah, but they don’t throw shoes at me, they throw lead and buckshot.” Jess turned to the Marshal as he pulled out a wanted poster and handed it to him. “You have any leads on this man?”

  It was for a man by the name of Raif Cawley and he was wanted for several murders, including train robbery and bank robbery. The Marshal grinned when he looked at the poster.

  “Cawley just added another offense to his long list of crimes,” explained the Marshal. “He killed a town Sheriff last month. I heard he was hanging around down in a town called Defiance, it’s about a week’s ride from here.”

  “Thanks Marshal,” offered Jess as he took the poster and folded it back up and stuck it into his pocket. He stood up and dropped a twenty dollar gold coin on the table and smiled at Matilda. He picked up his things and tipped his hat at Withers and walked out and headed for the livery. He saddled up his horses and rode out of Breckenridge and headed for Defiance and Raif Cawley.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “It’s been damn near two weeks now,” groused Walt Mercer. “You and your men can’t find one lone woman?”

  Sheriff Burch squirmed in the large padded leather chair across from Walt’s large mahogany desk chewing his stubby fat cigar that was stuck between his dark stained teeth that showed only when he smiled, but he hadn’t smiled much lately.

  “I’ve had men riding out to every town within fifty miles of here, but they still haven’t found her,” offered Burch timidly. “A few people said they saw a woman fitting her description asking questions about Rubin Fisher, but we still haven’t been able to find her.”

  “And nothing on Fisher either?”

  “Nope, it seems they’ve both gone to ground and are burrowed up out in some hills or something,” added Burch. “Neither of them is staying in any of the hotels or boarding rooms in the towns because we searched every one of them. I did find a store owner over in Holden who told me that someone fitting Jane’s description bought some supplies from him last week. He remembers it ‘cause she was dressed more like a man and she was carrying a rifle.”

  “Well, keep looking for her,” ordered Walt. “The twenty-five thousand dollars in bounty money should start attracting some attention.”

  “It already has,” explained Burch. “I’ve had three bounty hunters in my office so far picking up copies of the wanted poster we made up. And I’ve sent copies to every town and law dog for two hundred miles in every direction.”

  “Good,” snapped Walt callously. “Did you burn her place down to the ground like I told you to?” Burch squirmed edgily in the heavily padded chair some more.

  “It seems that lightning from that storm that rolled through here last week struck her place and the house and barn were totally destroyed,” explained Burch sarcastically, chewing his cigar.

  “Too bad about that,” Walt said cleverly. “I’ve got a standing offer at the bank for her property. She’ll be three months behind on her note next month and I’ll own it lock, stock and barrel.” Sheriff Burch stood up and stuck his hat back on and forced a smile.

  “Reckon I should get back to my office. I’ve got four men riding out to some more towns today to look for her and Fisher. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “You’d better get lucky soon or else you’ll be working back at the livery again,” warned Walt ominously.

  Burch nodded his head and sauntered out of the huge office and out to where his horse was waiting in front of the house. He climbed up in the saddle and turned his horse around back toward Defiance. He rode slowly, fuming over Mercer’s demands. He didn’t like Walt, but he did like the two hundred a month he paid him, plus three squares a day at the café and the free room at the boarding house that Mercer owned in town. He hadn’t wanted to burn Jane Lacey’s homestead to the ground, but he had orders to follow. If he didn’t do it, the next man wearing the badge he wore on his shirt surely would.

  The truth was, Burch liked Jane Lacey. She was a nice woman who always treated him with respect, even though she knew that he was bought and paid for with Walt Mercer’s money. And the whole business about the twenty-five thousand dollars in blood bounty on Jane stuck bitterly in his craw. The type of bounty hunters and gunslingers who were now looking for her were some of the worst of men. He took his fat stubby cigar out of his mouth and looked at it. He grunted as he threw it down into the dirt. He spurred his horse into a slow gallop along the trail thinking that maybe the job at the livery wasn’t so bad after all.

  ***

  It took Jess well over a week to reach the town of Defiance, Texas. As he sat atop his horse looking the town over real good, he saw the three streets that made up the town. The main street traveled east to west and was quite wide. The two smaller streets, one to the north and one to the south of the main street, were slightly narrower. There were also a few dozen homes scattered about the town in no particular order. He slid the spyglass into his saddlebag and nudged Gray into a walk into town, his packhorse following faithfully behind Gray.

  Jess reined up at a large livery at the east end of town that had the name ‘Defiance Livery’ painted in big bold letters above the large doors. An older man with a balding head came out wearing a tattered leather apron that covered his bare chest. Jess swung down out of the saddle effortlessly and handed the reins over to him. The man patted Gray on the neck and looked at Sharps and smiled.

  “This is some fine looking horse flesh, Mister,” the man examined.

  “Yes they are, so give them your best,” suggested Jess, throwing the man a five dollar gold piece. And throw in some apples, too.” Gray and Sharps both nickered and shook their heads as if they understood. The man pocketed the coin and stuck his hand out and shook hands with Jess.

  “Name’s Jeremy Owens and I own this place,” stated Jeremy. “I suppose you’re one of those bounty hunters by the looks of you.”

  “I’m Jess Williams,” offered Jess, as he pulled the wanted poster on Raif Cawley out and showed it to him. Jeremy grinned a little and handed it back to Jess.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him once or twice around town,” explained Jeremy. “But everyone else is lookin’ for the woman instead.”

  “The woman?” probed Jess with an odd look on his face.

  “Yeah, Walt Mercer placed a twenty-five thousand dollar bounty on Jane Lacey for killing his son Jethro,” explained Jeremy. “Every bounty hunter around has been coming through here looking for her. Hell, that Cawley feller could probably run through town buck naked and no one would pay him no mind.” Jess put the wanted poster back into his pocket.

  “Got a good hotel in town?” Jess asked, grabbing his rifles and saddlebags.

  “The Defiance Hotel has some nice rooms on the upper floor.” Jeremy pointed to t
he building in the middle of Main Street. “It’s got a nice little café in it, too.”

  Jess spun around on his heels and headed straight for the hotel. When he got there, he checked in and took his things up to his room. He walked back down and checked the little café and it was small, but clean. He walked out of the hotel and saw the jail on the other side of the street and down a few buildings.

  He walked into the jail to find a fat man sitting behind a small desk chewing on a stubby cigar that moved around in his mouth as he chewed it. The man looked up and saw Jess standing there and immediately recognized who he was.

  “I figured I see you sooner or later,” said Sheriff Burch, leaning back in his chair and frowning. “You here about this?” Burch thumbed back behind him where the wanted poster on Jane Lacey was tacked to the wall. Jess looked at the sketch of Jane, read the poster and frowned.

  “She doesn’t exactly look like a murderer to me,” muttered Jess softly. Sheriff Burch turned around in his chair and looked at the poster again.

  “No she doesn’t,” Burch said bluntly. “But she’s worth twenty-five thousand dollars just the same. That’s a lot of money to bring in one person. I suppose that’s what brought you to our little town?” Jess kept staring at the sketch behind Burch and he slowly sat down in the chair in front of Burch’s desk.

  “Actually no, I’m looking for this man here,” replied Jess, pulling the wanted poster on Raif Cawley out and handing it to him. Burch glanced at it and sulked.

  “I’ve seen him in town a few times,” Burch grunted.

  “How come he’s not in jail then?”

  “Hell, Cawley is a stone cold killer,” Burch murmured. “He’d just as soon kill ya as look at ya and I don’t think this badge would give him a second thought. I leave men like that to men like you.” Jess leaned back in the chair and gave him a look of disapproval, but Burch didn’t care and it showed. Jess looked at the poster behind Burch again.

  “Anyone know why she killed this Jethro fellow?” Jess asked keenly. Burch frowned and pulled the fat stubby cigar from between his teeth.