Trammel recovered in time to dodge Joe’s next wild punch, and the one that followed that.
Trammel connected with an uppercut that lifted Joe off his feet. He was out cold before he hit the ground.
Trammel saw Sam’s face was a bloody mess, but he had managed to get Trammel’s gun out of its holster as he fell back. He was blinking hard, trying to fix his aim on the sheriff as Trammel ducked out of the way. A single shot rang out, which missed Buck by a country mile. He rolled on his shoulder and found his feet under him, ready to charge the remaining Allan boy, when he saw Hawkeye come from across the street and bring the butt of his heavy revolver down on Sam’s head. The blow was hard enough to lay the man flat.
Hawkeye plucked the Colt from Sam’s hand and gave it back to Trammel butt forward. “You hurt, boss?”
Trammel took the pistol and tucked it back in the holster where it belonged. “Glad to see you’re finally awake,” the sheriff said to his deputy.
“One of us has to work nights,” James “Hawkeye” Hauk told him. “I came running when I heard all the yelling in the street. Sorry for not getting here before he took a shot at you.”
“He didn’t come close to hitting me,” Trammel said, “but while you’re here, you can help me get these two to the jail.”
As was his way, Hawkeye did not protest. In fact, Trammel could not remember hearing a single complaint from him since the day he pinned the deputy star on his chest. The boy was about twenty and seemed grateful for the work. Trammel hoped his love of the job lasted a little longer; he could certainly use the help.
Trammel looked around for a wagon to load the Allan boys onto but didn’t see any available. “Looks like we’re dragging them,” he told Hawkeye. “You grab Joe and I’ll grab Sam.”
“Hey!” Hawkeye called out. “This is Sam and Joe Allan. Good boys.”
Having grown up in Blackstone, Trammel figured there weren’t too many people Hawkeye didn’t know. “That’s who they told me they were. And now they’re prisoners.”
He grabbed hold of Sam’s left leg and began to pull him along Main Street down to the jail. Hawkeye did likewise with Joe, but did not let the extra burden keep him from talking. “I’ve known these boys my whole life, boss.”
“So you said.” He was glad the laudanum had made Sam Allan so skinny. He was easier to pull.
“They never caused any trouble,” Hawkeye continued. “They kicked up a fuss on a payday now and then, but nothing like this. I can’t even remember a single fight they started in all the years I’ve known them.”
“Well, they sure as hell started this one,” Trammel told him. “We’re just lucky we were able to finish it.”
He hoped Hawkeye would let it go until they reached the station, but he was a talkative boy and figured he wouldn’t. His deputy did not disappoint. “What do you think got into them to make them do this?”
The street had filled in some with curious townspeople stopping the course of the day to watch the sheriff and his deputy drag two men along the dust of Main Street.
“Laudanum is what got into them,” Trammel told his deputy. “It can make a man do some mighty strange things, including going for my gun. That’s why I’ve always warned you to stay away from that stuff. It’s no good for you.”
“You know me, Sheriff,” Hawkeye panted as he began to feel the effort of dragging Joe Allan. “I don’t even like tobacco, much less laudanum.”
He looked back and saw his deputy struggling and decided to give him a hand. “Let me drag them both while you run up ahead and unlock the jail. We’ll put them in separate cells. These boys will be having a rough couple of days without their dragon smoke to help them. Best make sure we have plenty of buckets for when they do.”
Hawkeye looked like he had a million questions, but Buck was glad he had the good sense to hold on to them until they got to the jail.
He ran ahead toward the jail while Trammel ignored the stares he drew from the good citizens of Blackstone as he dragged two men past them.
CHAPTER 6
Trammel looked up from his paperwork when he heard Hawkeye clear his throat. The deputy was standing by the entrance to the cells. “You getting sick or just trying to get my attention?”
“Sorry, boss, but I think you need to come back here and take a look at the prisoners,” Hawkeye said. “They look mighty sick to me.”
Trammel went back to finishing his report on the dustup with the Allan boys earlier that day. “I’ve seen men get the shakes before, Hawkeye. It happens when the drug begins to wear off and the body gets to missing it. They’ll be like that for a couple of days. It’ll be a messy business before it’s over, but it’s part of the job.”
Hawkeye seemed less than pleased about the possibility of cleaning up not just one but two cells of men with dope sickness. “You think we ought to send for Doc Emily?”
Trammel really wanted to get this report done before Rhoades came around asking for information for the next day’s paper. “Not much she can do for them except give them a little more laudanum to ease their suffering. All that’ll do is delay the inevitable, so best to leave her out of this for now. If they get worse, we can always call for her then.”
Trammel hoped that would be enough to ease the deputy’s mind, but it wasn’t. He still stood there, looking in at the prisoners and back at Trammel like a confused puppy. He finally said what was on his mind. “How will we know when it’s bad enough to call her?”
Trammel had lost his temper enough for one day and did not want to lose it with his deputy. “If one of them quits breathing or turns another color, we’ll get her. Until then, I don’t want her bothered for the likes of them.”
“Nonsense,” Adam Hagen said as he strode into the jail. His dark gray suit clashed with his maroon brocade vest, but he managed to pull off the look. “I’ll pay for the good doctor’s time in attending to the Allan boys. They’re good customers of mine and I intend to see they’re tended to.”
Trammel slammed down his pen. At this rate, he would never get that damned report done. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“Why should I?” Hagen asked as he sat down and pulled out a silver cigarette case. “I pay taxes in this town. I own the hotel right next door and most of the furniture in here came from there. I’m not asking for a key to the front door, of course, but I’m still entitled to come in whenever I want.”
Trammel wanted to throw him out, but not in front of Hawkeye. Emily had told him that Hawkeye looked up to both of them. And although Trammel hoped the young man turned out different from Hagen, he didn’t want to demonize Hagen either. It might have the opposite effect and Hawkeye would feel sorry for how Hagen was treated.
Hagen selected a cigarette and held out the case to Trammel. “Would you like one?”
The sheriff shook his head. “God only knows what you’ve put in it.”
“I can assure you that it’s only tobacco,” Hagen said. “I wouldn’t waste anything more exotic on your puritanical tastes.” He looked back and held open the cigarette case to Hawkeye. “What about you? You’re old enough now. Want a smoke?”
“He most certainly does not.” Trammel thought of a good reason to get Hawkeye out of the jail, especially while Hagen was around. To his deputy, he said, “I forgot to pick up some coffee from Robertson’s this morning. Why don’t you head over there and have him grind some for us, then put on a fresh pot when you come back?”
He looked at Hagen. “Maybe our guest will be gone by then.”
“Don’t be silly.” Hagen grinned. “I love it here. Surrounded by old friends and the most stimulating conversation one could hope for.”
Hawkeye clearly wanted to stay and listen to the sheriff and the dandy spar with each other, but Trammel was his boss and he had given him an order. Reluctantly, he went about his chore and closed the jailhouse door behind him.
Hagen thumbed a match alive and lit his cigarette. “I certainly hope you didn’t send him away on my account
.”
Trammel had no choice but to set aside his report for the moment. “What the hell do you think you’re doing by offering him a smoke?”
“He’s at least twenty or twenty-one,” Hagen said. “He’s old enough to drink, kill wild Indians, and help you corral a couple of dope fiends in the main thoroughfare. If working for you hasn’t gotten him killed yet, a cigarette won’t do the trick.”
“He’s a good kid, Hagen, and I want to keep him that way.”
“You mean keep him your way,” the vice peddler said. “As in you would disapprove if I hired him on and asked him to follow in my footsteps.”
Trammel had no claim on Hawkeye whatsoever. But he had grown fond of the kid and felt a certain responsibility for him. “Anyone who follows in your footsteps risks getting shot in the back.”
Hagen laughed. “This coming from the man who courts trouble simply by getting out of bed every day. Which reminds me, where are you sleeping these days?”
“You tell me,” Trammel said. “You see everything from that grand balcony of yours, don’t you?”
Hagen snapped his fingers, as if he had just remembered something. “That’s right. You’re back at the Oakwood Arms, aren’t you? Guest of Mayor and Mrs. Welch.” He sucked his teeth. “It’s a shame, really. Not only have you had to grow accustomed to the fact that Dr. Downs threw you over, but you have to trek all the way to that ghastly old barn each night after work.”
Trammel did not like anyone to mention Emily, especially Hagen. “Watch it, Adam.”
Hagen smiled. “Ah, so it’s ‘Adam’ all of a sudden. Does this mean we’re friends again?”
“You stop selling laudanum yet? Give up your part of the saloons and laudanum dens in the territory? The day that happens is the day we become friends again. Until then, not a chance.”
Hagen ignored what he said and continued with his own thought. “It’s a shame you have to trek all the way over to the Oakwood Arms when you could easily stay next door at the Clifford for free. All that luxury and indoor plumbing for absolutely no charge. Instead, you dwell in that drafty hovel Mrs. Welch has the audacity to call a rooming house.”
“I sleep better by sleeping honest,” Trammel told him. “And seeing as how I’m trying to put you out of business, staying under your roof wouldn’t seem right.”
Hagen flicked his cigarette ash into the cuspidor. “You don’t want to put me out of business, Buck. If you really care about this town and this territory, you’ll do everything you can to help me take control of this dump.”
“You mean Blackstone?” Trammel asked.
“I mean the whole territory,” Hagen explained. “Maybe a couple of others, too. Maybe from here clear to California and then down to Texas. What do you say?”
“I’d say you’ve got big dreams for a one-armed man,” Trammel told him. “And that’s an awful lot of territory and a lot of people you want to control. Not all of them will roll over for you. Some of them are liable to push back. In fact, I know they will.”
“And as long as we’ve got a solid base under us here in Wyoming, we can face down anyone who gets in our way. That’s why I came here tonight.”
“Why?” Trammel asked. “To talk nonsense? Hell, if I want that, I’ll just sit back among the cells and listen to the Allan boys babble away all night. Curse at ghosts and such.”
“I don’t care about them,” Hagen said. “And I don’t care about Blackstone. I’m talking about you and me going into partnership together, Buck. And for the right reasons, too.”
Trammel was about to argue with him, but Hagen held up his left hand to cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say. You won’t have anything to do with something illegal. I understand that. I’m talking about you taking over Rob Moran’s job. I’m talking about you being the sheriff of Laramie. I run one side of the fence while you run the other. I keep my side down to a dull roar and innocent casualties to a minimum and all you have to do is agree to look the other way from time to time.”
Trammel sat back in his chair and regarded Hagen. His fair hair and neatly trimmed Vandyke were the same, but the man who sat before him now was nothing like the Adam Hagen he had once considered his friend.
“This your idea of our friendship, Adam? You go on breaking the law and I go on letting you.”
“Don’t look at it like that.” Hagen pitched forward in his chair as he pleaded his case. “Look at it as a way to keep a lid on the territory. Laudanum is frowned upon, but it’s not illegal.”
“Yet,” Trammel cautioned.
Hagen grinned. “You just let me worry about that. We both know everything in the territory begins and ends in Laramie. Lucien Clay and I already have most of the saloons and brothels sewn up throughout the territory, but we’re looking to expand our reach beyond Wyoming. With only a little help from you now, we’ll be in a position to help you in the future.”
“By kicking out Rob Moran and giving me his job in Laramie,” Trammel concluded. “And just how do you plan on doing that? You can’t buy him off and you can’t scare him off, so that leaves only one option.”
“Kill him?” Hagen shook his head. “Why kill what you can buy? Moran’s a good man. An ambitious man, too, from what I’ve heard about him. Getting on in years, and I imagine he’d take the territorial marshal position if we could get it offered to him.”
He flicked his ash into the cuspidor and pointed the cigarette toward Trammel. “That’ll give you a clear shot at Moran’s job. I know they’ll think about one of his deputies taking his spot, but none of them are the Hero of Stone Gate.”
Like a lawyer who had just finished making his case, he sat back in his chair, rather pleased with himself. “So, there it is. My grand plan all laid bare for you to feast your eyes upon. What do you say?”
At certain times, usually on sleepless nights, Buck Trammel stared at the ceiling and cursed the chances he had not taken. If he had just stayed in Manhattan and done what they wanted, he’d have a nice life for himself right about now. Maybe a wife and kids. And if he’d just stuck with the Pinkertons a little while longer, he might have had a nice office in Chicago or an easy job as a railroad detective.
But for one reason or another, he had closed all those doors behind him forever years ago. He had quit the cops and the Pinks because he would not do another man’s evil. He could not be another man’s puppet then. And despite all the hardship his stubbornness had caused him, nothing had changed.
“You want my answer now?” he asked.
Hagen said he did not. “Take your time. Lucien and I are still working out some details, but soon Blackstone and that ranch out there will be mine to do with as I please. When the dust settles, Laramie is our next stop.”
“And you think Lucien will keep going along with all this?”
Hagen allowed some smoke to escape through his nose. “He will if he knows what’s good for him. With Madam Peachtree rotting in her shallow grave, everyone who’s anyone in power in this territory answers to me now, and they find me much more generous than she ever was. Lucien serves his purpose for now. But if you join up with us, you and I will be partners, Steve. Just like we used to be.”
Trammel’s eyebrows rose. “Steve, is it? You must really need me pretty bad.”
Adam Hagen’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need anyone. Not even you. I’m doing you a favor right now, you big dummy. You’ve passed up opportunities before. Don’t let this be another one of them. Take a couple of weeks to think it over. The picture will be pretty clear by then.”
But Trammel did not need a couple of weeks. He did not even need a couple of seconds. “You’ve got a real crooked idea of friendship, Adam. The answer is no.”
He had expected Hagen to be angry. He half hoped he would lose his temper and try something stupid. It would give Trammel the excuse to end Hagen’s plans right now, once and for all.
But he did not look angry. His placid expression did not change a bit. “I knew that would be your firs
t answer. That’s why you’re the man for the job.” He finished his cigarette and dropped the remains in the cuspidor as he rose to leave.
Trammel sat back in his chair and put his hand on the butt of his Colt. Just in case.
Instead, Hagen looked at his reflection in the mirror beneath the regulator clock on the wall. He fixed his hat to a jaunty angle. “You’ve always been a brave, tough man, Buck, but you’re blunt. You need to see things before you believe in them. You do things your way and I admire you for it. But when the seeds of destruction I’ve planted begin to flower and blossom, you’ll see I’m right. And when that blessed moment comes, I’ll accept your partnership with open arms.”
The latch on the jailhouse door sounded, and Trammel got to his feet and drew his gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hagen already had his in hand. Even left-handed, he was still fast on the draw.
They both knew Hawkeye never opened the door without knocking first.
The jailhouse door swung open and John Bookman walked in. Upon realizing he was staring down the barrels of two pistols, he raised his hands slowly.
“Easy, boys. I came here to talk, not fight.”
Trammel holstered his Colt. “Damnit, Bookman. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock first?”
“Why should I?” the ramrod said. “This jail and the whole town belong to my boss.”
“Not everything,” Hagen said through clenched teeth.
It was only then that Trammel realized Adam had not holstered his gun. “Put it away, Hagen. He’s here to talk.”
But Hagen didn’t budge. “You forget this man tried to kill me? Smother me in my bed like an infant.”
Bookman sneered. “I should’ve done that when you were an infant. Would’ve saved your family a whole lot of trouble and grief.”
Trammel had been in enough fights with Adam Hagen to know that look in his eye. He acted the high-talking dandy and gentleman gambler when it suited him, but at his core, he was a stone-cold killer.
Trammel slowly came around the desk and stood off to the side of both men without getting between them and Hagen’s gun. “I told you to put it away, Adam. You just spent a whole lot of time telling me there’s a time for everything. There’s a time for killing Bookman, but this isn’t it.” He put iron in his voice as he said, “Put the gun away. Now.”
The Intruders Page 4
