The Sunshine Killers

by Giles Tippette

  McGraw smiled. “And how are the ladies? Been seeing they’re satisfied?”

  “Oh, yes,” Barney assured him.

  “And how’s Letty?”

  “She’s fine,” Billy answered quickly, looking at Tomlain. “Just find and looking for you back.”

  “Good. Barney, get another bottle of whiskey.”

  It was late afternoon. Saulter was still sitting on the side of his bed, patiently making cartridges. He had a huge pile stacked up, maybe a hundred. Letty came in without knocking. She had a piece of beefsteak on a plate. She laid it on the bed and stood watching him. A certain reserve had now come between them because of where she would be sleeping that night.

  “You going to use that big rifle on Tomlain?”

  “No,” he answered, without looking up at her.

  “Then why are you making all the bullets?”

  He shrugged, still not looking at her. “It’s something to pass the time.”

  She went over to the window and stood, staring out, looking at the front of Schmidt’s saloon. “McGraw hasn’t come over yet,” she said idly.

  He didn’t say anything.

  She continued staring out the window. “Be dark in two hours.”

  He went on making cartridges.

  She turned. “I’m having Juno fix you up a sack of provisions.”

  He looked up at her finally, “What for?”

  “Because,” she said, “you’re getting out of here as soon as it gets dark. You’re going to get on your horse and get the hell away from here. You’re really not strong enough for it yet, but it will be a lot healthier for you than staying around here.”

  “I can’t do that, Letty,” he told her steadily.

  “Dammit!” she swore. “You don’t know what you’re up against! Forget Tomlain! Get away from this place.”

  He looked at her calmly. “What am I up against, Letty?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said violently. “But it’s more than one man can handle. I don’t care how good a man he is, he wouldn’t have a chance against that over there.” She pointed toward the window.

  “Who are they?” he asked softly. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you, dammit! But I can tell you they won’t let you kill Tomlain. They can’t afford to. He’s too important to them.”

  “I don’t have any choice, Letty.”

  “Yes, you do. Go, go, leave! While you can. If they catch you back here they’ll kill you that quick!” She snapped her fingers.

  “You don’t answer any of my questions, Letty. Why not?”

  “I’ll answer this one. You don’t have a chance. Those are killers over there. Eight of them. Hired special. The best. Gathered from all over by Mister McGraw. Every one a specialist at his job. Including McGraw.”

  “Who’s McGraw? What’s his business?”

  “His business is doing favors. Handling things for people. For money, lots of money. Dammit, look around you. Can’t you see how big this thing is? They’ve set up a cathouse and a saloon just to keep hired killers content while they wait. Whiskey and women. Now, dammit, go tonight.”

  “I’ll be gone tomorrow, Letty.”

  She sat down on the bed beside him and took his face in her hands. “Look, Saulter, I don’t know you, don’t even know anything about you. But I don’t want you dead, do you hear? Please, listen to me.” She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “Look, in a couple of weeks I’ll be back in Phoenix. Go down there and wait for me.” She kissed him again.

  “I’ll be gone tomorrow,” he said steadily.

  She sighed and got up. “You let that sun rise on you here in the morning and you’ll be buried before it goes down.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I don’t think so.”

  She went to the door. “I’m going to send Juno up with the food anyway. She’s got to sleep in here tonight.” She looked at him a long moment. “Goodbye, Saulter. Change your mind and go.”

  He watched her until the door closed. Finally he took up the plate of beef and began to eat. There was a bottle of whiskey on the floor by his bed and he uncorked that and took a long pull. He looked at the far wall, his eyes and his thoughts turned inward. He sat there thinking for a long time. Logically he knew that he should ride on, leave the mess that Sunshine represented. But there was Tomlain to be settled with and then there were those other men and what they were doing. It was none of his affair, but he kept thinking it would be wrong, somehow, to just ride away from it. He didn’t like the feel of the place, didn’t like it at all. What a strange situation, he thought to himself. Finally he sighed and took another drink of whiskey. Well, there was still Tomlain. He didn’t know quite how he’d arrange that, but it had to be settled. He expected he’d just have to depend on luck and opportunity. That was all part of hunting and he was used to that.

  Very late that night he was still sitting just so, in the chair, fully dressed. Juno was in the bed, asleep. It had frightened her to come in and sleep with the big American in the room, but Letty had made her and he’d smiled at her. Now he just sat, waiting. He had his pistol in his lap and his other gear was all packed and stacked beside him. He still had no plans. What he probably thought he’d do would be to saddle up and then wait for Tomlain to come out. Then he’d kill him. He couldn’t fight all of them and he wouldn’t be fool enough to try so he’d have to find a way to isolate Tomlain. But he didn’t know quite how he was going to do that.

  There was suddenly a tiny thump against the wall, just outside, by the tiny window. Saulter was immediately alert. He brought his pistol to the ready, then eased up and flattened himself against the wall. There came a light rapping on the glass. It was repeated. Juno stirred, but didn’t waken. Slowly the window was raised from the outside. As it opened a breath of cold air came into the room. Saulter raised his pistol, ready to bring it down on the head of whoever was about to come in. Cautiously the intruder stuck his head into the room. Then he began to wiggle in over the ledge. As he got his upper body into the room Saulter saw that it was Chiffo. He holstered his gun and suddenly reached out and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, jerked him the rest of the way in the room, and slammed him to the floor, putting his hand over the boy’s mouth.

  The boy’s frightened eyes stared at him. Saulter put his face close to Chiffo’s. In a fierce whisper he asked him, “What are you doing in here, boy? Is that your girlfriend?” He jerked his head toward the still sleeping Juno.

  Chiffo nodded yes. He was very frightened.

  “Did you know I was here?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “If I take my hand off your mouth are you going to keep quiet?”

  The boy nodded a frantic yes.

  “All right,” Saulter said. He slowly removed his hand. As he did Chiffo said, in a normal voice, “Goddam, meester, you scare ...”

  But he got no further before Saulter clamped his hand back on the boy’s mouth. “I said be quiet,” he whispered fiercely. “Keep your voice down.”

  When he took his hand away this time Chiffo whispered also. “Damn, meester, I thought they kill you. What you doin’ in this cathouse?”

  “Just be quiet,” Saulter told him. “And don’t move. Stay just where you are.” He got up slowly and sat back in the chair, looking at the boy. After a moment he said, “Well, you’ve done it now. What am I going to do with you?”

  “You got a little wheesky for me?” Chiffo said.

  Without speaking Saulter reached down, got the bottle, uncorked it, and gave it to the boy. He took such a long drink that Saulter had to take the bottle back. “Now sit there and be quiet,” Saulter told him, “while I figure out what to do with you. This may be bad luck or good. I just ain’t figured it out yet.”

  Saulter and Chiffo sat up all night, sometimes sipping at the whiskey, but mostly just waiting. In his mind Saulter had turned over, then rejected, several plans of action. But as it began to come light, he spoke to Chiffo for the first tim
e in several hours.

  “I got a little job for you, Chiffo.”

  “What kind of job, señor? Does it pay wheesky?”

  “It’ll pay plenty of whiskey. Do you like Tomlain?”

  “Tomlain!” The boy’s face showed sudden fear. “I don’t want no job with Meester Tomlain.”

  “All you got to do is take a message to him. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” the boy said slowly. “No sé—what kind of message?”

  “I’ll tell you that later,” Saulter said. He got up. “Com’on, we’re going outside. But take it slow and don’t make a sound.” He began picking up his gear and the big rifle. He gave one knapsack to Chiffo to carry and lastly took up the whiskey bottle. “Let’s go,” he said. He opened the door and they slipped out in the darkened hall. Slowly and carefully they went down the stairs, moving one step at a time. A board creaked under Chiffo’s foot and Saulter looked back at him. Then they came to the living room and Saulter stopped, undecided. It was dim and dark in the room. Slowly he moved over to the front door and eased it open. With the door just cracked he looked cautiously outside. Nothing was stirring. Gently he eased the door back, stopping when it creaked. Quietly, he and Chiffo passed through and Saulter closed the door. They went down the steps, Saulter leading the way, and turned around the building toward the little barn in back. Their boots crunched quietly in the crusted snow. It was very quiet and very dim; dawn was a half hour away. Chiffo was nervous and frightened, but there was nothing for him to do but follow Saulter.

  They went in the barn. Saulter had to halt a moment to let his eyes accustom themselves to the dark. Finally he was able to pick out a few dim stalls. He looked in a couple until he found his horse. The animal looked around, recognizing him and started to whinny. Saulter walked up beside the animal, rubbing his neck and talking softly. “Find my saddle,” he told Chiffo.

  “How come your horse is here?” Chiffo asked him.

  “Just get the saddle.”

  Quietly, in the dark, they saddled and bridled the horse. Saulter packed him with his several knapsacks and lastly rammed the big rifle into its boot.

  “You leave now?” Chiffo asked him.

  “No,” Saulter said. “Not yet. Come on over here.”

  With the whiskey bottle in his hand he led the boy over to the main door. He cracked it just enough to see out and then sat down, motioning for Chiffo to sit across from him.

  He looked at the boy. “When it gets light I’m going to want you to go wake Tomlain up and give him a message.”

  The boy shook his head, frightened again. “No, señor. I much afraid of Tomlain. He keel me I wake him up.”

  “No, he won’t,” Saulter told him. “You’re going to give him a message from Mister McGraw. He won’t get mad about that.”

  The boy swallowed visibly. “I even more scairt of Meester McGraw.”

  “Well, he ain’t ever gonna know,” Saulter said. “Because if you do like I tell you, you won’t never have to be afraid of Tomlain anymore.”

  “Cómo?”

  “Because I’m going to kill Mister Tomlain.”

  “Keel? Meester Tomlain?”

  “Yes. Can you take a message for me?”

  The boy was uncertain. “Yo no sé. I don’t know.”

  “Here,” Saulter said. He handed the boy the bottle. “Have a little whiskey.” The boy drank, his eyes watching Saulter over the end of the upturned bottle.

  “That’s enough,” Saulter said. He reached out and took the bottle. “This job is going to pay plenty of whiskey,” he told the boy.

  “Plenty whiskey?”

  Saulter held up two fingers. “Two bottles.”

  “Two bottles wheesky?”

  “And all you have to do is go wake up Mister Tomlain and tell him Mister McGraw wants to see him. It’ll be easy.”

  “I scairt,” Chiffo declared.

  “Have some more,” Saulter offered. “You do right and no one will ever know. Tomlain will be dead and he won’t be able to say.”

  “What if he keel you?”

  Saulter said, simply, “That’s not going to happen.”

  “He plenty bad man. Maybe he keel you. Then what am I do?”

  “That ain’t going to happen,” Saulter said firmly. “Have another drink. It’s starting to come light.”

  They waited until it came full day. Then Saulter rose and opened the door a little wider. “Com’on, boy,” he said. Chiffo got up reluctantly.

  “I scairt,” the boy said.

  “Nothing to be scared of,” Saulter assured him. “You do exactly like I tell you and everything will be all right.”

  “Where my plenty wheesky?”

  “Here,” Saulter said. He dug down in his pocket and came out with three silver dollars. “Here’s your pay. That’s the same as two bottles.” He took the boy by the shoulders and steered him through the barn entrance. “Now you go over there and wake Tomlain up. Just tell him Mister McGraw sent you for him, that Mister McGraw wants to see him in the ladies’ house. Do it as quiet as you can and try not to wake anyone else up. Tell him McGraw said to bring his gun and hurry. You got that?”

  “I still afeered.”

  “Have another pull then.” Saulter gave him the bottle and let him take a long drink. “Hurry now, everybody will be getting up pretty soon. Run.”

  He stood watching until Chiffo was halfway across to the bunkhouse. Then he quickly went back, made sure his horse was ready, and then went out the barn through a side door. He walked behind the women’s house and to a position where he could peek around the corner and see the bunkhouse. As he waited he checked his pistol, putting a sixth shell in it where he’d normally only carry five. He worked the action several times, making sure it was free and easy.

  Chiffo had gone into the bunkhouse. Saulter waited, pistol in hand. A few long moments passed and then Chiffo came out. He stopped, looked hesitantly toward the barn and then scuttled in the back door of the saloon. After another moment Tomlain came out. He was tucking in his shirt, carrying his gun belt in his hand. Saulter watched him from around the corner of the building. Tomlain stopped once to buckle his gun belt and then came on for the women’s house.

  He was perhaps twenty yards away when Saulter suddenly stepped out into the open. He had the pistol in his hand, hanging down by his side. He said sharply, “Tomlain!” The word cracked like a shot in the cold quietness of the morning. Tomlain jumped and then swung quickly around. He stared, astonishment and surprise written all over his face. “What the . . .” he began and then switched to, “You! Goddam! You!”

  Saulter held the pistol so that it was half hidden behind his leg. “You made a mistake, Tomlain,” Saulter said. His voice was as cold and hard as the packed snow. “The worst you’ve ever made.”

  Tomlain still seemed to be held by surprise. But in a second, a slow, ugly smile began to spread over his face. “Well, well, well,” he said. He licked his lips, dry and cracking in the cold wind. “Boy, I never thought I’d get another chance at you. This is going to be like getting to kill you twice.” He turned and started walking directly for the hunter.

  Saulter watched him narrowly, gauging the distance. He didn’t intend to give Tomlain much chance.

  Tomlain was talking as he advanced. “Snake shooter, you can’t seem to learn where you ain’t wanted. Well, now you ain’t got nobody like little Billy to stick up for you. I reckon I’ll teach you the hardest lesson you ever learned.”

  At ten yards he suddenly stopped and his hand flashed as he started out with his pistol. But Saulter had anticipated the move and his arm swung up even as Tomlain was reaching for his weapon. He sighted down his long arm and fired an instant before Tomlain. The bullet took the gunman square in the chest and flipped him over backwards, his pistol firing harmlessly as he hit the snow. For a second he flinched and threshed and then he was still. Saulter walked slowly toward him, his pistol held loosely in his hand. At the body he s
tood looking down for a second. Already blood was staining the blinding whiteness of the snow. Deliberately Saulter flipped up the chamber of his revolver and ejected the spent shell. It bounced off Tomlain’s chest and then rolled into the snow. Without another look Saulter turned, sticking his revolver in his belt, and made for the barn at a deliberate pace. He knew that the shots must have been heard and that men would be coming, but he would not run. There should be time, he thought, to get on his horse and ride away before the men in the bunkhouse could get up and get organized and come out.

  He passed the back of the women’s house. For a fleeting second he thought of Letty, hating the thought of leaving her with these men. But that was just a reaction to her kindness. This was where she’d been when he’d found her. The barn and his horse were only a few steps further.

  At that instant a man suddenly came flying out the back door of the women’s house. Saulter caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and whirled, his hand reaching instinctively for his pistol. But the man had a Winchester rifle already leveled and aimed at Saulter’s chest. “Hold it!” the man yelled. He was down on one knee, the rifle steady. For an instant Saulter considered, conflict was working in his face. “Hold it!” the man yelled again. “Goddammit, you move and I’ll shoot you. Get your hands on your head!”

  Slowly and deliberately he did as the man told him.

  “Mister McGraw!” the man shouted without taking his eyes off Saulter. “Mister McGraw!” He looked at Saulter. “Who the hell are you, bronc? And what the hell you doing here? Boy, you done got yourself in a mess of trouble.” He yelled for McGraw again.

  Across the way the rest of the crew came boiling out of the bunkhouse. Some of them were dressed, but most were still in underwear, hopping across the snow while they pulled on boots and strapped on gun belts. They came charging across the snow, Billy in the lead. When they got to Tomlain’s body they instinctively paused for a moment. Billy knelt to make sure he was really dead. Then they came on, at a run.

  At that instant McGraw came out the back door of the women’s house. From his clothing it was obvious he’d dressed hurriedly. He was wearing a suit of good quality, but no vest or tie. He had an enormous buffalo coat thrown over his shoulders like a cape. Behind him the women of the house slowly gathered at the door. As he walked toward Saulter, an outraged expression distorted his face.