The Intruders

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  He saw Lilly’s eyes harden the way they did when she got angry. “Lots of people do all sorts of things for money, Steve. Selling themselves cheap is nothing new. Look at what you do for a living.”

  Trammel could see she was getting angry, which made her unpredictable, so he did his best to calm her down. “I’m not against her for what she does, Lilly. I just don’t think a whorehouse is the best place for you to be right now, that’s all.”

  She got up and stood as tall as a woman of five feet could manage. She had iron in her spine now and was every bit the prairie countess she had been when they had first met in Kansas. “I thank you for your concern, Sheriff, and I’ll certainly take it under advisement. The Gilded Lily will remain open during the march, whether I’m there or not. I have no intention of missing out on a big payday like that and I have every confidence that Ben can keep people in order.”

  “Lilly,” Trammel said. “Don’t be like this.”

  But he had no luck in melting the ice that had formed between them. “I know how busy you must be, so I’ll allow you to go about your business, sir, and bid you a good day.”

  Before she got to the door, Trammel said, “I’m going to need Ben’s help tomorrow. It’s hard work, but I figure he’s up to it.”

  She placed her hand on the knob but did not turn around. “Mr. London is my employee, not my servant. He can decide whether or not he helps you. Good day, sir.”

  Formality suited some women, but not Lilly. She had never been able to pull it off. She looked like someone impersonating a grand lady rather than being a grand lady herself.

  But he had no intention of telling her that and did not have the inclination to argue with her. It was best to let her go off on her own and cool down for a while than waste time arguing with her.

  She opened the door and went outside, not bothering to close it behind her.

  And Trammel did not shut it either. He figured the place could use some fresh air.

  CHAPTER 26

  With Montague dead, the only legitimate business owners left in town were Mr. Robertson at the general store and Elias, who ran the town livery. The rest were the saloon keepers from the Pot of Gold, the Vic, the Brand, and the Gilded Lily. The man from the claims office had already left town, as had the two lawyers who lived off the business that the Blackstone Bank fed them.

  The rest of the people gathered in front of the jail that afternoon were just ordinary citizens who had come to hear why the sheriff and the mayor had called a quick meeting.

  Fortunately, Adam Hagen chose to attend from the security of his second-floor balcony, though he had sent two of his Chinese guards down to watch the front of the Clifford Hotel. Emily and Dr. Moore stood off to the side. Hawkeye stood next to Trammel.

  Mayor Welch cleared his throat as he stood on the boardwalk next to Trammel and began his speech. “I know a lot of you are wondering why the sheriff and I have asked you to gather like this. Our reasons are simple. All of you know that there is a march planned on Main Street this Saturday. That’s only a day or so away. We expect a hundred people or more to flow into town between now and then. Some estimates are as high as two hundred, depending on who you talk to.”

  Trammel watched the saloon keepers lick their lips like hungry alley cats. Lilly held her shawl tightly around herself as she refused to look his way.

  “Everyone here stands to make a decent amount of money from this march. We know that no one likes a drink better than a pious crusader.”

  A ripple of laughter went through the men Hagen paid to run his saloons. Lilly did not laugh.

  “You’re going to have plenty of strangers mixed in with your regulars from tomorrow night until most of Sunday. The sheriff and I want to remind you of a few things, especially given all that has transpired in our town over the past few days. Sheriff Trammel?”

  Trammel did not need to step forward. He knew he was big enough to be seen and loud enough to be heard by everyone around. He hoped his voice carried over to the six men who had resumed standing watch over Mr. Hagen’s body. Lonnie had promised to stay all night to keep some of the ranch hands in check.

  Trammel began. “I know all of you people are here to make money. No one’s begrudging you that. But we all need to work together if we’re going to keep order in this town while our guests are here. I know a lot of your customers are still mourning the loss of Bookman and Mr. Hagen. Montague was a lawyer, but I’m sure there are at least one or two people who were sorry to learn of his demise, too.”

  Another ripple of laughter. He noticed even Lilly laughed, despite herself.

  “I’m not expecting any of you to act like deputies,” Trammel went on. “Leave the law up to me and Hawkeye. But I want you to watch out for any and all prairie rats. Not everyone who comes to march will be peaceful. There’s likely to be a few looking to start fights and for any excuse to break things. We already had one bunch try to burn down the laudanum den this week, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some well-meaning crusader tried to do it again.”

  Some of the townspeople cheered at that, none louder than Mrs. Higgins. “It’s the Lord’s will,” she shouted. “He will smite the wretches the way he smote Sodom and Gomorrah. His will be done!”

  Those with her shouted “Amen” while the saloon keepers shouted oaths of a more vulgar variety.

  Trammel talked over all of them. “If you hear someone getting loud or getting rowdy, throw them out of your saloon. If they won’t go or there’s too many of them, come get me or Hawkeye, here, at the jail and we’ll take care of it.”

  He made sure to look each saloon keeper in the eye for the next part. “I know you all work for Adam Hagen. These are his saloons and he’s liable to tell you to ignore what I’m telling you right now. Normally I wouldn’t go against what he tells you, but this time I am. If I hear about you letting trouble slide on account of making a buck, I’ll clear out your place and lock it up tight for the next month.”

  The keepers grumbled. Lilly looked elsewhere.

  “If you think I’m fooling, just try me,” Trammel said. “If you think you’ve got enough squirreled away to keep you fed and housed for the next thirty days, then try me. But seeing as how none of you fine folk strike me as having much money in the bank, I’d advise you to do what I say.”

  He decided to leave them with the simplest message he could manage. “Don’t cause any trouble. Don’t let any trouble start. Tell us if there’s a problem and we’ll handle it. Anyone curses at you, ignore it. Some of these marchers are going to try to goad you into doing something. Don’t fall for it. They’re just words. Don’t turn them into deeds. And don’t turn them into martyrs either. Any questions?”

  The keepers all looked up to where Hagen stood on his balcony. Trammel followed their gaze and found Hagen standing there, still in a black suit and hat, looking down on the proceedings. He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him with a clarity that surprised Trammel.

  “Any man who disobeys Sheriff Trammel’s orders will be fired. Any man whose negligence causes one of my saloons to be closed will be shot. Do as they say and you’ll all receive a reward for your efforts. Defy them and you’ll get a bullet from me.”

  He bowed toward the sheriff. “I yield the remainder of my time to Sheriff Trammel.”

  Trammel had to hand it to him. He certainly knew how to make a speech. “Go on about your business. We’ll tell you if anything changes.”

  The men were all too happy to go back to their respective saloons. When Lilly lagged behind them, Trammel hoped that she was waiting to talk to him. But she made no effort to even look at him, much less talk to him. He had seen her angry before, but never like this. It would take her a long time to calm down, if ever.

  Mayor Welch bid him a good evening and headed back to the Oakwood Arms. Mrs. Higgins and her gaggle of reformers flocked around him and dogged his steps back home.

  Emily and Dr. Moore moved through the thinning crowd and stepped up to the boardwalk.<
br />
  “Well said, Sheriff,” Moore complimented him. “Short and to the point. Anything that happens now is on their heads.”

  His compliment was cold comfort. “The only thing I want on their heads is their hats, Doc. I don’t want trouble any more than they do.”

  “But trouble may come anyway,” Moore went on, “and if it does, you’ll need all the help you can get. I’d like you to deputize me, if only in a temporary capacity. I know you have your reservations about me, considering my association with Adam Hagen. But don’t let the spectacles fool you, sir. I know how to fight and handle a gun. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to pitch in while the marchers are here. My medical duties would come first of course, but these marchers will bring more trouble than any two men can handle, even for you and Mr. Hauk, here.”

  Trammel looked at Emily, whose expression encouraged him to accept Moore’s offer.

  And from his balcony, Hagen called down, “Take the man up on his offer, Buck. You’ll also have my help to maintain order, too, if you want it.”

  Trammel pointed up to where Hagen stood. “You’re going to stay locked up in your room until this march is over. There are too many people who want you dead, so the less we see of you, the better.”

  “You’re no fun at all,” Hagen sulked.

  Trammel judged the doctor. He was younger than he appeared, maybe thirty or so. And fitter, too. His full, clean-shaven face made him look softer than he was. Perhaps there was more grit to this man than he knew. He might come in useful after all. “Let me see your hands.”

  Hawkeye looked at Trammel, puzzled, while Dr. Moore complied. Trammel examined them and, just as he had expected, they were soft and free of calluses. He let the hands go. “You have any experience chopping down trees?”

  Moore clearly took it as an odd question. “I was never a lumberjack, but I’ve cut down a fair share in my time. My father believed in his sons knowing the benefit of hard labor. Why?”

  The march was less than two days away. He hated telling anyone about his plans so soon, but he saw that he had no choice. “Because unless we want this town overrun by outsiders on Saturday, we’re going to have to make some fast work of some trees tomorrow afternoon.” Trammel spoke to Hawkeye. “You and the doctor, here, should head over to Robertson’s and see how many axes he has in stock. We’ll need to borrow them if he lets us, or buy them if he makes us. Don’t argue with him. Just tell him I sent you and we need them for the safety of the town. Come back and tell me what he says. In the meantime I’ve got to go see a man about a horse.”

  Trammel began to walk across toward Emily’s barn, where Mr. Hagen’s body was being kept. Lonnie and five other men were sitting around a campfire they had built out front. The ranch hands had pitched some tents near the barn in case it began to rain while they kept vigil over Hagen’s remains.

  Emily trailed behind him. “What are you up to, Buck?”

  He slowed his pace to accommodate her. He was not accustomed to sharing his plans with anyone, but Emily had always been an exception. “We’re going to block those marchers from coming into town. We’re going to block the road tomorrow afternoon with chopped-down trees.”

  Emily looked like she was going to raise an objection, then stopped herself. “That’s actually not a bad idea if you do it at the right place.”

  “We’ll place them at the narrowest part of the road, where there’s swamp on all sides,” Trammel told her. “We’ll tell them the trees fell down during the night and blocked the road, which they won’t believe, but it’ll make a fair number of them turn back, especially the wagonloads of people. They’ll never clear the muck of the swamp. Those on horses might chance it, but most of them won’t.”

  “How many trees will you chop down?” she asked.

  “Depends on how many men I get. Three or four big ones ought to do it. I just need a draft horse to pull them into place. I’m hoping Lonnie’s got some on the ranch.”

  “It’ll definitely discourage them,” Emily said. “I hope you’re not too proud to ask Ben to help.”

  “I’d be desperate enough to ask Adam to help if that right arm of his was any good. So yes, I’ll be asking Ben.”

  Emily looked like she had something else on her mind. “I saw that you and Lilly seem to have had some kind of falling-out. I’m sorry about that, Buck. I really am.”

  Trammel could tell by her tone that she was. “Her reasons are the same as yours. She just got there a different way, is all.” He desperately wanted to talk about something else. “I hear you’re using some new way to keep Hagen preserved until his family arrives. How’d you manage that?”

  “With formaldehyde the undertaker in Laramie gave me,” she said. “I noticed he had a constant cough, and my husband had a book that warned how dangerous formaldehyde can be. I made the amount last by adding cheap wine and salt to the mix. It cuts down on the odor and slows the decomposition process.”

  He smiled despite the gory subject. “You’re an enterprising woman, Dr. Downs. Always was. You’ll do well in that school Hagen’s going to send you to. Hell, you’ll probably teach those men a trick or two they haven’t thought of yet.”

  “I’ve decided not to go,” she said. “At least not until I can pay my own way.”

  Trammel was surprised. “It was a generous offer. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Emily.”

  “I don’t eat apples snakes tell me to eat either.”

  He could not argue with her there.

  By then they had reached the barn. Emily went in to tend to the body while the men all stood up when they saw Trammel. Only Lonnie stepped forward to greet him. “Evening, Sheriff. Quite a gathering you had over there. Heard what you told them. I only hope they’re wise enough to listen to you.”

  Trammel nodded toward the ranch hands standing around the campfire. “Sounds like you’ve found a way to keep these boys in hand.”

  “Don’t go thanking me too much,” Lonnie said. “I’ve been having a hell of a time keeping them from taking a shot at that piece of dirt on his balcony up there.”

  Trammel looked back and saw Hagen sitting outside, despite his orders. He even tipped his hat when he saw the men looking at him.

  “It’d be a tough shot from this distance,” Trammel said.

  “Maybe for you, but not for my boys,” Lonnie told him. “But they’ve listened to me this far, so I’m hoping they keep doing it. What’s on your mind?”

  “Do you have a draft horse or two up at the ranch you could spare and a man to handle them?”

  “We’ve got four and any one of my men can handle them,” Lonnie answered. “What are you looking to do?”

  He laid out his plan to block the road the following afternoon.

  Lonnie took in the entire plan without a single interruption, then said, “No one will believe they just fell there, but I have a feeling you don’t care about that.”

  “I want to keep them out of town,” Trammel said. “And I don’t care how I do it. I figure that spot is the best to keep them from getting here.”

  “You figure right,” Lonnie said. “We’ll do more than help, Sheriff. My men and I have cleared more trees than you’ve ever seen. We’ll do all the work and block that road good and strong. And we’ll open it up again when you tell us we can. That’s the deal.”

  Trammel had always been wary of offers that sounded too good to be true. This case was no different. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch at all,” Lonnie said. “We don’t want those people up here either. They’re liable to start something that my boys could be blamed for. We’ll block it off for you and clear it so the Hagen family can get through once they get here. I think Caleb is supposed to be the first. On Monday.”

  That was more than Trammel had known and he did not bother asking Lonnie how he did. “The road needs to be blocked by tomorrow night so no one has time to warn Laramie about it. There are other ways up here, but—”

  “None a wagon can use.
Leave it to us, Sheriff. It’s the least we can do after you’ve been fair to us. That word you gave us about the cattle saved the ranch. Their drinking water was tainted. We managed to cut the sick ones from the herd before it spread. They’d all be dead or dying by now if it hadn’t been for you.”

  The two men shook hands and Trammel walked back to the jail. He still was not sure if he could trust Lonnie. He’d been too quick to agree to everything he had asked and more.

  But he also did not have much of a choice. The men from the Blackstone Ranch knew how to clear an area quicker than he did. He knew they would probably ask a favor of him. He only hoped he could grant it when they did.

  CHAPTER 27

  The headline of the Laramie Daily said it all:

  KING CHARLES HAGEN IS DEAD

  He finally did it, Lucien Clay said to himself. He finally had the guts to do the deed.

  He set the paper aside, deciding that reading the article would be a waste of time, and he had no time to waste. He needed to set his plan in motion and the hour was growing late.

  Micklewhite knocked on his hotel door and paused for a few seconds before opening it. When he did, he poked his head in first, before coming in. He was back in his Michael Albertson garb: a brown suit and a shabby hat. He was completely unrecognizable save for the permanent stoop he bore. Pete Stride entered the room after him.

  “It’s time, Mr. Clay,” Micklewhite said. “Time for you to review the troops, as it were.”

  “I think you’re going to like the men I picked, Mr. Clay,” Pete added. “They’re stone-cold killers, every one of them.”

  If Clay had a dollar for every time a man had boasted of his skills with a gun or a knife, he would not need to take on Adam Hagen like this. He could easily buy him out and still have more than enough left over to buy England.

  Boasts meant nothing to him. Results were the only thing that held any currency with him.