The Intruders

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The Intruders Page 14

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone


  Hagen perked up as he smelled the air. “Have you been drinking?”

  Trammel nodded. “Whiskey.”

  Hagen continued sniffing the air. “It smells terribly familiar.”

  “It should. It’s yours.”

  “I thought so.” Hagen frowned. “My private stock. How much did you have?”

  “Enough.”

  “I hope not too much. That was shipped to me all the way from Scotland.”

  But Trammel had more on his mind than Hagen’s booze. “He tell you what happened?”

  “Of course not,” Hagen said. “You know he can’t speak.”

  “I know that,” Trammel snapped, and looked at Lilly. “I mean to you. Those things you two do with your hands. Did he tell you what happened?”

  “How could he?” Lilly said. “The doctor’s been treating his wound.”

  Trammel looked at Moore. “You almost done?”

  “In a moment, Sheriff,” the doctor told him. “We want to do this right to reduce the possibility of infection. But Ben will be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve—”

  Trammel saw Hagen and Moore exchange a glance before the doctor finished his thought. “It’s not the first time I’ve stitched up a bullet wound.”

  Trammel took his first good look at Ben’s wound. The bullet had hit just below the clavicle and went out the back. Moore had been right. A bit higher and he might have hit something vital. It was a mistake Trammel knew he would live to regret based on the way Ben had glared at him from the moment Trammel had entered the office.

  “The wound is a long way from his hands,” the sheriff observed. “Lilly, ask him what happened.”

  The doctor did not give her the chance to answer. “I told you, I will be done here in a moment, Sheriff Trammel. I don’t see the need for the sudden urgency. The facts of the matter will continue to be the facts when I am done in a few minutes. You can talk to him then.”

  “I don’t know about you,” Trammel argued, “but I’d call saving our hides a pretty good reason for urgency.”

  Doc Moore stopped stitching the wound. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Trammel. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “But staying alive does,” Trammel said. “We’ve got five armed men from the Blackstone Ranch in town right now collecting four of their dead friends.” He pointed at Ben. “Charles Hagen had to put his foreman out of his misery personally. The rest of them are out on Main Street right now, collecting the men Ben killed. I got Charles to give me two days to investigate, but his word won’t mean much when he finds out the disposition of the man who killed his cowhands. He’s liable to come in here and try to lynch Ben, and if he does, he’s liable to have a whole lot of help with him. Too many for me and Hawkeye to stop for long.”

  “Lynching?” Lilly said as she slowly backed away from him. “Because he’s a Negro? How could you say such a thing? Ben has been a dear and loyal friend to me since you left. I always knew you had your faults, but I never took you for a bigot.”

  “Trammel’s not a bigot,” Hagen told her, “but King Charles is. And so are many of the men who work for him. Trammel’s right. We don’t know how they’re going to react when word spreads that it was Ben who did the killing, so we’d better get the story out quick.”

  Ben began motioning again with his hands, but Hagen spoke aloud. “Ben was working the door at the Lily when he saw a group of four men ride into town after dark. One of them broke off from the others and rode around back of Main Street while the other three rode on and stopped at the mouth of the alley of the Celestial den. Ben didn’t like the looks of it, so he went out back and saw a man behind the tent trying to light a torch. The man lit it and tried to attack Ben. There was a struggle, the man fell on the torch, and it caught fire. In fear for his life, he grabbed a rifle he found in the man’s saddle and ran out front to face the three men in the alley. He quickly dispatched them and accidentally fired on the sheriff here, whose return volley is the reason why we’re all here in Dr. Moore’s office now. He didn’t know it was Bookman or that those men worked for the Blackstone Ranch, though the fact that they did speaks volumes as to motive, if you ask me.”

  Hagen held out his hands as if he was a stage actor who had just finished reciting a sonnet. “That’s how it happened. I’ll be more than willing to sign a sworn statement to that effect.”

  Trammel looked at Hagen, then at Ben, and asked him, “That the way it happened?”

  The big man nodded, and although he could not speak, Trammel could sense the truth in his affirmation. Hagen seemed to have gotten it exactly right.

  “How?” the sheriff asked aloud.

  The question caught Hagen off guard. “How what?”

  “How do you know that’s what happened?” Trammel pushed. “You were in your office at the Pot of Gold. Your office doesn’t have a window. You weren’t there when Ben killed Bookman. You said so yourself. So how do you know that’s what happened?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hagen said. “You saw the scene yourself, or are you drunker than you’re letting on?”

  Lilly said, “Buck, I think you’re making a lot out of nothing here.”

  Emily clearly didn’t think so. “How did you know what happened during the fight he had with Bookman? He didn’t roll over on the torch and just catch fire. He couldn’t have, because his neck was already broken. We found the torch on his back, not at his side. It didn’t just land there.” She looked at Ben. “You set him on fire, didn’t you?”

  Lilly and Hagen were about to defend him when Ben began to motion with his hands again, much to the annoyance of Dr. Moore.

  Lilly translated. “He said Bookman already had the torch lit when Ben tried to stop him. He tried to set Ben on fire. He hit Bookman hard in the jaw and collapsed. Ben doesn’t remember what happened after that. The next thing he remembers is being shot by Buck in front of the saloon.”

  Dr. Moore added as he continued his stitching, “He may be in a state of shock. It’s been known to happen after an especially violent event. I saw it in soldiers after the war, when I was a young medic. It’s often temporary and, in a day or so, I’m sure Ben will have a complete and clear recollection of what happened.”

  Trammel was not so sure. “Well, if he didn’t before, he will now, thanks to Hagen.”

  The dandy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate the insinuation, Sheriff.”

  “And I don’t appreciate the interference,” Trammel said. He could still feel the whiskey in his system. He knew how it worked on him, and allowed his temper to run more freely, so he fought hard to keep hold of it. “You were awfully eager to take the side of a bouncer you hardly know. And you knew just enough facts to make Bookman getting burned to death sound like an accident. Why? And don’t tell me I’m imagining things because I’m drunk, because we both know I’m not.” He turned to face Hagen. “How did you—”

  Hints and fragments began to rush together in Trammel’s mind. Whiskey did not only serve to grease the rails of his temper, but in the right measure, it also helped him think clearer.

  Adam Hagen had summoned Dr. Moore from New Orleans.

  Adam Hagen had spent time in New Orleans before he went to Wichita.

  Dr. Moore was about to say something earlier when a look from Hagen shut him up.

  This might not have been the first gunshot wound Moore had fixed. Trammel’s mind made the leap. This was not the first time he had sewn up Ben either.

  Adam Hagen, Dr. Jacob Moore, and Ben London had all been in New Orleans together.

  Ben had not been working for Lilly by accident. Hagen had sent him there. And he had brought him here with Lilly for a reason. Just like he had brought Dr. Moore here for a reason.

  By the time he heard himself say the words, Trammel already knew the truth. “Ben’s working for you, isn’t he?”

  Hagen blanched as he began to slowly back away. “Now, Buck. Just calm down for a moment. Take a breath and remember yourself.”

&nb
sp; Trammel did not move and he did not lose hold of his temper. “You understand those hand signals he does, don’t you? Maybe you even taught them to him when you two worked together in New Orleans. That’s Indian sign, isn’t it? You’d have picked that up when you were in the cavalry.”

  Hagen moved farther back as his left hand moved closer to his pistol. Ben moved off the doctor’s table and stood next to Hagen. Dr. Moore set his scissors aside and looked down.

  Hagen held out his hand to Trammel. “There’s no reason to get angry, Buck. I can explain everything.”

  “Explain!” Lilly yelled. “You mean you and Ben have been working together this entire time? I thought he was working for me.”

  Ben made some hand movements, but Hagen spoke for him. “Ben was working for you, Lilly. He was loyal to you, and only you. When I wrote you upon arriving here at Blackstone, you told me you were having trouble finding someone to replace Trammel. Ben happened to be looking for work and I sent him to see you. From what you have said and from what I have seen, the arrangement has worked out to everyone’s advantage.”

  But that was not enough for Lilly. “Then why didn’t you tell me you were sending him?” She looked at Ben. “Or why didn’t you tell me you knew Adam? Even when I told you we were coming to Blackstone. Or since?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Or did you just talk me into coming to Blackstone and make it seem like it was my idea?”

  Hagen tried to laugh it off, but Trammel saw something different in his eyes. “You’re all making this sound far more sinister than it is.”

  But the more Trammel thought about it, the more it all made sense. Since the day they had ridden into Blackstone together, Adam Hagen had a reason for every single thing he did. The saloons. The laudanum den. The partnership with Lucien Clay. Buying up the mines. Bringing Dr. Moore, Lilly, and Ben to town. Every action designed with only one goal in mind. To pull King Charles Hagen down from his throne.

  Trammel decided it was time for some answers. “I’ve got four men dead and a hell of a lot of angry people asking a lot of questions. And if they don’t like the answers, they’re liable to burn this town to the ground. What are you up to, Hagen? No more dancing around. You’d better tell me, and right now.”

  Lilly cursed as she pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and stormed out of the doctor’s office. Trammel turned to watch her head back toward her saloon and saw no one had followed her. He did not go after her, for he knew she would be safe at the Gilded Lily.

  Hagen nodded toward the door. “If the crowd out there is as nasty as you claim it is, you ought to see her home, Sheriff. Wouldn’t want her getting mixed up in all of this, now would we?”

  “She was mixed up in this the second you talked her into coming here.” He gestured toward Ben. “But she was just the side bet, wasn’t she? Ben’s the real reason why you wanted her here. What is he? Your muscle? A hired hand you can use instead of relying on Clay’s boys from Laramie?” Yes, Trammel decided. It all made sense now. “Ben didn’t just happen to notice a bunch of riders coming into town. He was keeping an eye out, wasn’t he? On your orders. Lilly was just part of the bargain, wasn’t she?”

  Hagen grinned. “A bargain of which you seem to be the beneficiary most nights, wouldn’t you say?”

  Trammel started toward Hagen and Ben got in the way.

  Emily got there first and headed Trammel off. “It’s been a long, bad night, Buck, and Hawkeye needs you. We can pick this up in the morning, after I take a look at Bookman’s body before the burial. The time to think will do us all good.” She placed a hand on his shoulder but did not lead him. “What do you say?”

  Emily always had a way of knowing how to calm him down, and she still did. He pointed at Hagen and Ben. “Neither of you leave town, understand? No trips to Laramie and no walking around in public. If someone kills one of you before I write up my final report, I won’t be held responsible.”

  “We will all follow your wishes to the letter, Sheriff,” Hagen said. “But let’s not forget that I’m the aggrieved party here, Buck. Bookman was attacking my establishments and planned to kill my customers, probably on orders from my father. I never claimed to be innocent in all of this, but I’m not the only guilty one wrapped up in it.”

  Trammel did not want to allow Hagen to have the last word, but Emily urged him to leave with her, which he did.

  CHAPTER 18

  As they walked along Main Street, Trammel was glad to see the crowd in front of the Pot of Gold had thinned out a bit, thanks to Hawkeye on horseback, ordering the people to keep moving.

  Emily had noticed it, too. “Hawkeye has really grown into the job, hasn’t he?”

  Trammel was happy to talk about anything other than death, if only for a little while. “I think the job has grown around him,” Trammel said. “He’s still got a lot to learn, but he’s off to a good start.”

  “That’s thanks to you,” she said. “He still idolizes you, you know.”

  “He’s learning by my mistakes lately,” Trammel said. “Doesn’t seem like I can do anything right anymore.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. The streets are full of men in laudanum stupors. Mike Albertson’s got a big crowd coming to town on Saturday to march against them. King Charles tried to burn down Adam’s laudanum den tonight, and I’ve got four dead men on my hands. Hell, even the mayor hates me now. If this was happening to someone else, I might think it’s funny, but it’s not. It’s happening to me.”

  Emily walked quietly beside him. “These things blow over, Buck. And somehow you always find a way to make it right. Don’t ask me how, but you do.”

  “I did when I had you. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “You have Lilly,” Emily said. “You two seem happy.”

  Trammel did not want to talk about her now. Not with Emily. “That’s different. We’re different. She’s not you.”

  “I certainly hope we’re different,” Emily remarked. “She’s a saloon keeper and I’m a medical woman. We don’t even look the same.”

  “You know what I mean,” Trammel said, wondering if this might not be the whiskey talking. “I was different when I was with you. Better, maybe. Sharper.” He was beginning to think he sounded like a fool. “I don’t know. I’m just not the same without you and I don’t like it. That’s nothing against Lilly, it’s just the way it is.”

  The crowd was getting louder the closer they got to the Pot of Gold, so Emily stopped and made Trammel stop, too. “Listen to me, Buck, and listen good. You didn’t call it off between us. I did. And it’s not because of anything you did, but of who you are. It’s because of what you are that made me end things, and that’s not because you’re bad. It’s because you’re good. You’re strong and brave, and not just because of your size. You could have this whole town eating out of the palm of your hand, paying off to you instead of to Hagen, but you don’t. You use that strength to help people, and to stop men from hurting this town. I didn’t break it off because of what you did or because you killed people. I know why you did all that. I broke it off because I’m selfish. I don’t want to share you with anyone else. Not this town, not your past, no one. I broke it off because I’m scared that one day, you’re going to be up against something you can’t beat. Something that’s bigger even than you. And if that day came while we were still together, I’d be a widow again.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek, sending a calm, familiar warmth through him. “I didn’t break things off because I didn’t love you anymore. I broke them off because I love you too much. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else, including my husband. He was a good man, but he wasn’t you. And because his death almost killed me, I can’t imagine what yours would do to me. And that’s the only reason why we’re not together right now, Steve. It’s because I love you too much, I’m too scared to let you love me.”

  Trammel felt dizzy from her touch and he lost his grip on his control. He allowed the feeling that had been b
uilding up inside him all these months spill out. “They’re smarter than me, Emily. Adam. Charles. Lucien Clay. Even Mike Albertson. They’re all smarter than me, and all I ever do is clean up their messes. They’re all angling for a piece of this town and I can’t get ahead of them. All I can do is clean up after them and write up the reports and hope like hell I get there in time to keep more people from getting killed.”

  Emily caressed his cheek a final time before lowering her hand. “You’re not stupid, Steve. You might not be as smart as them, but you’re smart enough. You put together Adam’s plan back there in the office before I did. Even before Lilly did, and Ben has been working for her for over a year. Maybe you’re not as smart as them, but you don’t have to be.”

  Trammel had not thought of it that way. “Why not?”

  “Because all of their plans, all of their schemes, no matter how fancy they are, run right through the middle of this town.” She poked him in the chest. “And that means they have to get through you if they want to win. And that’s why they’ll lose.”

  She turned him around before he could say something he would probably regret, linked her arm through his, and pulled him toward where her wagon was parked at the Pot of Gold.

  “Come on, Sheriff. Walk me to my wagon so I can get a few hours of sleep before we head up to the ranch tomorrow.”

  Trammel gladly walked with her. “Think you’ll get much sleep after all of this?”

  “No,” she admitted, “but it’s nice to think I will. I have to try anyway. Though I don’t relish the idea of seeing Bookman again. I know he was a horrible man, but no one deserves to die like that.”

  Trammel could still feel the cold steel of the pistol Bookman had placed against his neck several months before. He would not be shedding any tears over his passing. He decided to talk about something else. “What do you think of Dr. Moore? He do a good job on Ben’s wound.”

  “He did,” she allowed. “Not as good as me, of course.”

  For the first time in a while, Trammel laughed.

 

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