Devil's Kin

by Charles G. West

  McQueen laughed. “Mr. Leach came to play.” He slid the cards over toward Leach. “We’ll let you deal the first hand, since you’re a guest here.”

  The man on Leach’s left won the first two hands, but after that, lady luck seemed to play no favorites. It was not until the fifth hand, however, that Leach took the pot with two pairs, jacks and fours, and felt comfortable that the game was an honest one. Leach was not adverse to cheating at cards, but only if he was the one doing the cheating.

  “Your friend there,” McQueen asked, nodding toward Roach standing at the bar, “he ain’t interested in cards?”

  Leach glanced briefly in Roach’s direction before answering. “Once in a while, when he ain’t tryin’ to pick up the scent of a woman.”

  McQueen laughed. “Well, Harvey can tell him where he can get that taken care of.”

  The man opposite Leach laughed knowingly. “He needs to go see ol’ Possum Annie. She’ll take some of the starch out of him.” His comment caused the other two players to laugh.

  “Annie runs the Wichita Social Club,” McQueen said. “That’s the local whorehouse. Your friend will do better takin’ on one of the other girls. Annie’s lively enough till she gets your money. Then she just kinda lays there like a possum playin’ dead while you finish your business.”

  Leach grunted, thinking about Roach. Roach preferred a pinch of violence with his copulating. He was out for a tussle as well as biological release. Possum Annie was in for a rough time if she wound up under Roach. When Leach glanced back toward the bar, it was to see Roach toss back his drink and walk out the door. There was little doubt in Leach’s mind that Harvey had directed him to Possum Annie’s establishment. Anytime of the year was rutting season for Roach.

  The game went on until after three in the morning, long after Harvey had closed the bar and gone home, leaving McQueen to lock up. At the end of the night, there were only three of them left, the other two having been cleaned out. When they finally decided to call it a night, Leach noted that McQueen was a slight winner. Leach, himself, was down about forty dollars, not enough to upset him.

  “Well, Mr. Leach,” Jack McQueen said, getting to his feet, “are you gonna be around for a while?”

  “I reckon I will,” Leach replied. He had already made up his mind. “Maybe I’ll have a little better luck tomorrow.”

  “Maybe you will,” McQueen replied with a wide grin.

  When Leach returned to the room, Roach was sleeping the contented sleep of one who had known fulfillment. He didn’t even stir when Leach carefully removed the pistol from beneath his pillow. Roach always slept with the weapon under his head, and Leach wasn’t willing to risk having him awaken suddenly and shoot him while he was pulling off his boots. Gazing down at the big man, Leach thought, This town might be a good spot to spend the winter, if you don’t get into trouble. He knew the odds were long on that. Roach always seemed to get into trouble, and Leach didn’t like the prospect of spending the winter on the run.

  A week passed, and a relatively quiet and peaceful routine seemed to have been established. The poker game became a nightly event for Leach, while Roach contented himself as a regular guest at Possum Annie’s two-story frame house at the end of the street. But the criminal mind was far from being converted to a peace-loving organ. Although the two outlaws had come to Wichita well-heeled with stolen money, Leach was not making a living at the poker table—Jack McQueen being the main beneficiary of his losses. And Roach was squandering a good portion of his share on women and drink. So it was only natural for them to cast coveting eyes in the direction of the small bank a few doors down from the hotel. By the end of the second week, Leach began having second thoughts about hanging around until winter.

  While Leach may have been contemplating a change of scene, it was to be Roach who expedited the decision. There were three working women at Possum Annie’s establishment in addition to the madam herself, and Roach sampled them all. Rough and just short of brutal, his idea of lovemaking was more akin to the mating of a grizzly bear, and the women were grateful that he spread his lust around, instead of picking a favorite. Because he was possessed of insatiable lust, it was only natural that the single-minded brute became obsessed with forbidden fruit. Possum Annie had a daughter of whom Roach had an occasional glimpse whenever he passed the kitchen on his way out to the outhouse. It was enough to set a spark aflame in the big man’s mind. He was informed early on that Rose, a tender girl of fourteen, was not on the menu. This only served to make the young girl more desirable. Roach had never had a virgin before, and it was an experience he greatly desired.

  “I’ll give you fifty dollars for a turn with Rose,” Roach offered one night as he sat drinking coffee after a lively session with Evelyn. He had been watching the young girl as she washed a pan full of dishes on a table by the pump. Her back was toward him, and he saw her stiffen when he said it.

  Seated at the kitchen table across from him, Annie cocked one eyebrow and fixed him with a menacing scowl. “You ever even think about touching that girl, and I swear I’ll carve your guts out.”

  “Fifty dollars,” Roach repeated, ignoring the threat, an evil grin across his face. “How long would it take you to make that much at two dollars a tumble?”

  “You sorry son of a bitch,” Annie replied, not sure now if the huge man was serious or if he was just trying to get her goat. She didn’t doubt that he had the money. After all, he had been pretty loose with it ever since he had paid his first visit to her social club. He had even voluntarily paid Justine an extra five dollars after he had gotten a little rough with her. Annie had warned him that she would not tolerate any more rough stuff with her girls, and if it happened again, he would not be welcome in her establishment. Roach had been properly contrite and promised it would never happen again. True to his word, he had been on his best behavior since that night—still rough as a bull elk, but not mean. And now he came up with this outrageous proposition. It was enough to make Annie nervous. “You just get your mind off my baby,” she said. “She ain’t never gonna be in this business.” Then, without taking her eyes off of Roach, she said, “Go on up to your room, Rose. You can finish them dishes later—wouldn’t hurt to let ’em soak a while, anyway.”

  The young girl did as she was told immediately, her eyes never daring to look up as she hurried toward the door. Again ignoring the icy threat in Annie’s eyes, Roach turned in his chair to leer at the slender form until Rose disappeared from view. Turning back to her mother, he marveled, “Dammit, Annie, was your ass ever that little?”

  “None of your damn business,” Annie replied in a huff. “I’ve had enough of your sass for one night. Go on back to the hotel now before I have to send for the sheriff to escort you.”

  Roach laughed delightedly. “All right, honey. I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He got up to leave. “I might even ask for you tomorrow.”

  “Humph,” she grunted contemptuously, “I might not be able to sleep tonight just thinking about it.” She could still hear him laughing after she closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  “I ain’t never had a streak of bad luck this long,” Leach complained to Roach one afternoon as they sat at a table in the hotel dining room. “And I ain’t never seen a man have such a long lucky streak as that son of a bitch,” he said, referring to Jack McQueen. “He’s cheatin’—has to be—but I can’t catch him at it.”

  “I’ve had about a bellyful of this peace and quiet,” Roach responded. Even to a man with Roach’s insatiable appetite, the tired, lifeless whores at Possum Annie’s had become a boring routine. “Why don’t we just go ahead and knock off that little bank and get the hell outta here?”

  Leach sat considering the idea for a minute before replying. “I reckon we might as well, but I wanna catch that bastard double-dealin’ before I leave this town. When I do, I’m gonna put a bullet right between his cheatin’ eyes.”

  Roach shrugged indif
ferently. He failed to see why Leach just didn’t go ahead and shoot the son of a bitch. That would damn well end his lucky streak.

  That night, Roach found himself thinking more about the bank than the prospect of another evening of chasing whores. He never thought he could ever be bored with that activity, but he had to admit he had lost his enthusiasm for Annie’s stable of overridden mares. This was the mood he was in when he happened to catch a glimpse of Annie’s young daughter through the kitchen window. Sweet little Rose, he thought, now there’s something to put the starch back in a man.

  He walked around to the window at the side of the kitchen to get a better look at the young girl. Dutifully going about her chores, cleaning up the supper dishes, she moved with an elegant grace that immediately stirred the juices in Roach’s mind. It’s time you and me got acquainted, he thought as she dried the last of the dishes and carried the pan to the door to throw the dirty water out.

  Rose was humming softly to herself as she pushed the screen door open with the pan of dirty water before her. She was always pleased to have the dishes finished early so she could retreat to her room in back of the kitchen. There she would close the door, shutting out some of the noise from the parlor: the loud laughter of her mother’s staff; the raucous bluster of the cowhands liquored up to boost their courage; the low, cautious voices of the town’s gentlemen; and the incessant creaking of bedsprings overhead in the guest rooms. Her mind was not focused on those things at the moment, however. She had no thoughts beyond emptying the dishpan and sweeping the kitchen floor when a huge hand suddenly clamped around her arm, and she was jerked off the back step.

  The dishpan was sent flying, its contents spraying a dark swath in the dust. Terrified, Rose screamed, but only for an instant before another hand clamped tight over her mouth, stifling the sound, and her body was locked in a powerful embrace. Helpless to struggle against the massive arms that enveloped her, she felt the terrified panic of a lamb in the jaws of a wolf. The strong stench of tobacco and stale sweat that filled her nostrils would only register in her frightened brain later when she would recall this night.

  “Now there ain’t no use you makin’ such a fuss, darlin’,” Roach said, his voice low, his lips close to her ear. “You’re bound to get rode sometime. It might as well be me that does it.” With her arms imprisoned by one of his, and another hand pressed tightly over her mouth, she could do nothing but kick her feet as the big man dragged her toward a shed behind the house. Once he reached the dark shadows behind the shed, he removed his hand from her mouth and attempted to kiss her. She immediately screamed out for help. A sharp rap across her face was enough to silence her. “You might as well make up your mind that you’re gonna get rode. If you behave yourself, I won’t get rough with you. But if you want it the other way, I’ll beat the livin’ hell outta you. Either way, we’re gonna get it done.”

  Paralyzed by the thought of what was about to occur, Rose began to cry. “Please don’t,” she pleaded pitifully, helpless to save herself from the horror that was promised.

  Her whimpering pleased him, bringing a wicked smile to his face. “You might as well enjoy it,” he said, “just like your mama.”

  Helpless against his strength, she was easily wrestled to the ground, landing roughly upon her back. He was immediately on top of her, groping and fumbling with her skirt. She closed her eyes in an effort to hide from what was happening to her. She heard the solid clunk of oak against his skull, but had no idea what it was. Suddenly, he was no longer upon her. She opened her eyes to see her mother swinging a piece of stove wood at Roach.

  “You son of a bitch,” Annie screamed, flailing away in an attempt to make solid contact with Roach’s skull again. But Roach backed away from her, warding off the blows with his arms. “Run to the house, Rose,” Annie commanded. The girl did not have to be told a second time. Annie paused in her attack only long enough to see that her daughter was safely away; then she advanced upon the huge man again. “I warned you to leave her alone,” she spit at him.

  His head stinging from the broken skin on the back of his skull, Roach steadied himself to meet her assault. Enraged by her attack, he stood his ground and waited. Like an angry mama bear defending her cubs, she charged the big man again, the stick of wood raised to strike. He easily avoided it this time, and catching her wrist, he clamped down until she had to drop it. Still holding her by the wrist, he reached down and picked up the stick of stove wood. Then he methodically began to strike her, again and again, repeatedly bouncing the hard oak against her skull until she fell senseless at his feet. Even then, he did not stop until the stick finally broke over her crushed and bloody skull.

  His anger still at a peak, he stood over her lifeless body for a long minute before sounds from inside the house began to register in his brain. He threw the broken stub of the piece of fire wood at her body. “That oughta learn you somethin’,” he growled and quickly departed the scene.

  * * *

  Leach was just preparing to go downstairs when Roach burst into the room. “We’ve gotta get the hell outta here!” Roach exclaimed and immediately started getting his things together.

  Dumbfounded at first, Leach stood there motionless for a few moments while his partner grabbed up his saddlebags and rifle. “Now what the hell?” he asked, already starting to get angry even before he heard the answer.

  “I beat the hell outta that damn whore, and we better get outta here before they go get the sheriff.”

  Leach guessed there was more to it than that. “You beat up one of the whores? Which one?”

  Roach continued to stuff articles of clothing into his saddlebags. “Annie,” he replied. “Only she ain’t gonna be givin’ nobody no sass anymore.”

  “You killed her?”

  “Deader’n hell.” He paused for a second and looked up at Leach. “She had it comin’.”

  “Damn you, Roach,” Leach complained. Realizing the seriousness of it then, he hurried to gather up his belongings from the room. He could not have cared less that Roach had killed Possum Annie. He was angry over the untimeliness of his huge partner’s senseless act. “We coulda knocked over that little cracker-box bank and left town a helluva lot richer.”

  “It weren’t my fault. She come at me with a stick of stove wood. Besides, we’ve still got plenty of money left. At least, I know I have—if you ain’t lost all your share to Jack McQueen. Right now, I expect we’d best be ridin’. Them whores is bound to go to the sheriff.”

  Disgusted with the brainless blunder Roach had committed, Leach was tempted to tell him that he was on his own and let the sheriff come get him. He wanted to hit that bank, and he had a score to settle with Jack McQueen before he was ready to leave Wichita. Damn fool, he cursed Roach silently and picked up his gear. “Come on, then. Let’s go down the back steps, so Boyd don’t see us.”

  They wasted no time hoofing it down to the stables to saddle up. In a matter of minutes, they were ready to ride. The sheriff, accompanied with the hysterical ladies of Possum Annie’s house of pleasure, was just coming through the front door of the hotel when two riders galloped off into the darkness. Like so many other towns, Wichita was left to grieve after a visit from Leach and Roach.

  Chapter 10

  “Mr. Sawyer tells me you’ve settled your account and you’re getting ready to leave us.”

  Jordan turned to find Kathleen standing in the open door of his room. “I reckon it’s time I got goin’,” he replied. While she watched from the doorway, he strapped on his gun belt, then looked around the room to see if he had forgotten anything before picking up his rifle and saddlebags.

  She took a couple of steps toward him, a slight frown upon her face as she offered mild admonishment. “You’re still healing inside. It might not be such a good idea to be too anxious to leave. Maybe it would be best to let Father take another look at your wounds before you ride off to who knows where.”

  Had he been a little more perceptive, he might have noticed the t
hinly veiled irritation in her tone. Being of a single mind, however, he perceived nothing beyond the casual interest of a nurse for her patient. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll bother your father with it. I feel pretty sound—just a little stiff from layin’ around for so long.”

  She could hold her patience no longer. “Dammit, Jordan, why do you insist on going after those men? You came within a hair of being killed. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

  Somewhat stunned to hear the gentle young lady curse, he didn’t know how to reply for a moment. From the look of embarrassment on her face, he could see that she had startled herself as well. Her outburst was a distinct departure from the playful scolding he had become accustomed to, and he was at a loss as to how he had managed to displease her. “I reckon I owe you some money for your time,” he offered lamely. It was the wrong thing to say, particularly at that moment.

  She just stood there for a few long seconds, doubled-up fists on hips, fuming, as she stared at the bumbling young man. “I don’t want your money,” she finally exclaimed. “Do you think I’ve been taking care of you every day for money?”

  “Why, no, of course not,” he mumbled, confused by her sudden anger. “I just thought—”

  “That’s just the problem,” she interrupted. “All you can think about is going off to get yourself shot again. Well, I hope you can find someone to patch you up next time.”

  Surprised to find she had a temper, and completely baffled that he had managed to ignite it, Jordan was the picture of confusion. It appeared that he needed to apologize, but he was not sure why. “I’m sorry, Kathleen.”

  She just shook her head sadly. She had already exposed more of her innermost feelings than she had intended, and he either had no like feelings for her or he was too dumb to realize it—she wasn’t sure which. It was a lost cause, she decided. “Take care of yourself, Jordan Gray,” she finally said, her voice dropping to a softer tone. Then she stepped close, reached up, and kissed him on the cheek. Stepping quickly back, she turned and hurried from the room, leaving a totally confused young man to ponder over the deep emptiness that had suddenly overcome him.