Killer Take All

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Killer Take All Page 21

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone


  “Miss Parker, the privilege of meeting you is all mine,” Pete said with a slight nod of his head.

  “Thank you, Mr. Poindexter, but now I feel that I must get back to town and check on my dress shop.”

  “Wang, would you be for going with her?” Duff asked. “The way things have been going, I would feel better if the lass didn’t have to go alone.”

  “Shi, I will go.”

  “It isn’t necessary”—she smiled at Wang Chow—“but I would enjoy the company.”

  “We’ll rest today and go into town tomorrow,” Duff said. “Tomorrow we’ll be for seeing the man who calls himself Jake Poindexter. We may as well start at the top.”

  “Yes,” Pete said. “I would much like to meet the man who is passing himself off as my son.”

  The line cabin

  It had been three days since Kay arrived at the line cabin. She had met both men who were taking turns guarding Jake and her. Butrum, on guard duty at the moment, was outside. She was inside with Jake, cooking for the three of them.

  “I have to confess that in addition to enjoying your company, I’m also glad that the task of cooking has fallen upon your shoulders,” he said. “I had absolutely no experience in the kitchen before winding up in this regrettable situation.”

  “It is only right that I do the cooking. After all, I am getting more rest than you. You’ve given me the cot and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

  Jake chuckled. “Believe me, Kay, having now slept on the cot and the floor, there is very little difference.”

  “Perhaps that is so.” she laughed. “I must say, Jake, that after all you have gone through, you are some kind of a man to still able to laugh at things.”

  “Oh? Look at you. You are still laughing at things.”

  “I’ve only been here three days. You’ve been here for four weeks.”

  “I wish you hadn’t come at all,” Jake said. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love having you here. To be honest, until you showed up I had about given up on everything. My life had no meaning at all. It’s amazing what a transformation in my life you have brought about in just three days. But it is for your sake that I wish you hadn’t come.”

  “I know this may sound very dumb, Jake, but given all the difficulties and the uncertain future, I’m glad I’m here. I would not have met you otherwise.”

  “I wonder if you know exactly who it is that you have met. This time last year I was a, well, there’s no other way of putting it, but I was a rake and a wastrel. I am the only son of one of the richest men in America, and I rarely thought beyond the next day. And only the connection with my father kept me from being thrown out of a dozen or more clubs.” Jake chuckled. “Despite that, I was thrown out of the Union Club.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I think it would embarrass me too much to tell you why. But what I’m trying to say is, the man you have met is not the same man I was then. I’ve grown, and in the last three days since you have been here, I like to think that I have also gained a new perspective in personal relationships.”

  “Jake, before you get too, uh, introspective, I think you should remember who I am.”

  “I know who you are. You are Kay Greenly from Jackson, Mississippi, you attended college at the University of Mississippi, and though it may not be Oxford College, it is at least in Oxford, Mississippi,” he teased. “And,” he added, “you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met.”

  “I’m also a bar girl. We are trained to make men attracted to us. And you must admit, Jake, this”—she took in the little cabin in with a wave of her hand—“is not the way a man and woman would normally meet.”

  “I don’t care how it is that we met. And I know that you are a bar girl, but—”

  “Jake, stop!” Kay said with a sob, holding out her hand. “You don’t know everything!”

  “I don’t care what I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you don’t, but your family and your friends would care. When I got to Fort Laramie and learned that my . . . fiancé . . . had married another without even having the decency to tell me about it before I left Mississippi, I sort of had a rebellious breakdown. I couldn’t go back home to face my brother and sister-in-law or my friends, and tell them that the young man with whom I had exchanged letters of encouragement and support for the whole time he was in West Point, had betrayed me.

  “Unwilling to go back home, I went to Cheyenne, where I worked in a saloon and there”—Kay was quiet for a long moment—“there, I . . . I was more than just a hostess.” She hung her head in shame.

  “But you left,” Jake said.

  Kay nodded. “I left, but it was too late. I was already a fallen woman.”

  “You are certainly not a fallen woman. Why, I’ve never known anyone who could stand as high and hold their head as erect as you. Kay, in the last three days I have seen you under stress that only one in a thousand could handle without breaking. You are not only the most beautiful woman I have ever known; you are also the bravest and the most resourceful.”

  Her eyes brimming with tears, Kay reached out to lay her hand on Jake’s arm. “And you are the most foolish man I have ever me. The kindest, the smartest, and the bravest, but also the most foolish.” She smiled through her tears. “And despite the predicament I find myself in, I am glad I came out here.”

  “I’m glad, too. But tell me, Kay, how in world did you find this place?”

  “I overheard some of the railroad police talking about keeping someone confined in a cabin. I got curious as to who it was, and why they were keeping someone a prisoner. I asked Mr. Blanton about the cabin, and he told me where it might be. I didn’t tell him why I was looking for it, but now I think that was a mistake. I probably should have told him. If I had told him, he might have passed the word on to others so there might be someone looking for us. As it is, no one knows that I am here.”

  “Who is Mr. Blanton?”

  “He’s the newspaper editor. He’s a really brave man, too. He has often printed stories against Jake Poindexter and way the railroad police are acting.”

  “He prints stories against me?”

  Kay laughed. “No, not against you, silly. He doesn’t know about you. Nobody in town knows about you. Mr. Blanton prints stories about the man who is passing himself off as you.”

  “Ed Collins,” Jake said.

  “Yes, against Ed Collins, the man everyone thinks is you. By the way, they burned Mr. Blanton’s newspaper office down.”

  “Who burned it down?”

  “Nobody knows for sure, but nearly everyone thinks that it was the railroad people who did it.”

  “Lord almighty,” Jake said, putting his hands to his forehead. “The railroad that I came here to build . . . that is, the legitimate railroad . . . will never be able to climb out of this mess. They will only remember those imposters.”

  “That isn’t necessarily so,” Kay replied. “There are some good people in Chugwater, Jake, and once they know the truth, they’ll support you. And that is also true of the ranchers and farmers in the valley who have suffered the most. Once they know the truth, they, too, will support you.”

  “Perhaps so, but the operative terms there are once they know the truth.”

  “They will know the truth and they’ll hear it from you. I know they will.”

  “How are they going to hear it from me since I am a prisoner?”

  “Because I believe we’ll come up with a way to escape.”

  “Escape, yes. If you get the opportunity to escape, Kay, I want you to take it.” He reached down to rub his ankles beneath the leg irons. “There’s no way I can escape, not with these things on. I can’t ride a horse. I can’t even walk. But you, on the other hand, could get away. Then you could tell someone where I am.”

  “Yes. Yes, I could tell someone about you if I could get away, couldn’t I?”

  “It will be dangerous for you. So you mustn’t try until the opportunity is just right.”


  “Wait, that will do no good. What if I did escape and told the marshal about you? Why, they would just move you, or maybe even worse.”

  “But you have to try. Promise me, you will try.”

  “I’ll try,” Kay promised.

  Morris Butrum came back inside then. “Hey, bar girl. How much longer till you got somethin’ fixed to eat?”

  “It will be ready soon,” Kay said.

  “I tell you the truth, I’m glad you come out here. Before you come, Poindexter was doin’ all the cookin’ ’n he can’t cook worth a damn.” Butrum looked over toward Jake, who was tenderly rubbing the red rawness under his shackles. “Them leg irons hurt, don’t they?”

  “They are quite uncomfortable,” Jake admitted.

  “Yeah, I know they are. I’ve had to wear ’em myself a few times. When a sheriff or a U.S. Marshal moves you around, they like to put them things on you.”

  “You’ve had to wear them? Why Mr. Butrum, here I thought you were a law officer,” Kay said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Butrum laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s a good one, ain’t it? Me bein’ a law officer, I mean. You know what else about them leg irons that I find funny?”

  “No, but please tell me what you think is funny about these leg irons. I’m afraid I can find no humor in them, at all,” Jake replied.

  “Well, that’s ’cause you ain’t thinkin’ about it. I mean here you are, spending these last three days with a whore, only seein’ as how you’re all trussed up like that, they ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.” Butrum cackled loudly and slapped his hand on his knee. “No sir, you can’t do nothin’ a-tall about it. I can’t do nothin’ about it neither, at least not now, but soon as Collins tells me it’s all right, well, me ’n the whore there will have us a little party, ’n we’ll let you watch.”

  Kay cringed as Butrum laughed again.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chugwater

  When Wang Chow stepped into Lu Win’s Restaurant, he saw many more Miguó rén than Zhngwén. It was very popular with Americans so there were always more Americans than Chinese.

  Mae Win was taking an order from a man who was sitting alone at a table. Although the man had his back to Wang, there was something familiar about him, a familiarity from Wang’s past.

  Having taken his order, Mae Win turned to go the kitchen, then she saw Wang and smiled broadly. “Wang, how happy I am to see you.”

  The man who had just given the order turned when she spoke and looked directly at Wang.

  Wang gasped in surprise. “Loh!” The word was almost an expulsion of his breath.

  “I am no longer the Tiger. Here, I go by my Miguó name. I am Zack Clark.”

  “I did not know that you had left China.” Wang smiled. “I will eat with you, and it will be as it was when we were novitiates together at the temple.

  “Hunyíng n, w de péngyu,” Wang added.

  “Thank you, but here, I speak only English,” Clark replied just as Mae Win returned, carrying his order.

  She had heard Wang say welcome my friend. “You are friends?”

  “Mae, this is Zack Clark. I met him at the Shaolin Temple of Changlin. There he was called Loh. We called him the Tiger because of his fierce fighting ability.”

  “Is he as good as you?” Mae asked.

  “We fought many matches in training,” Wang said. “It shames me to say that I never bested him.”

  Impressed by Wang’s words, she said to Clark, “Oh, you must be very good.”

  “I am humbled by your praise,” Clark said, putting his hands together and making a slight bow of his head.

  “How is it that you know our ways so well?” Mae asked.

  “I was born in China and I lived there for many years.”

  “You were born in China?” Mae was surprised by the revelation.

  “My parents were missionaries. They were killed when I was but six years old. I was taken in by a Chinese woman until I became of age to enter the temple.”

  “It is there that we met,” Wang said, picking up the story. “We were both boys then, but we became good friends and remained so until I left.”

  “Shi. You left because the Empress Dowager Ci’an issued a decree ordering your death.”

  “You know of this?” Wang asked.

  “Shi. Everyone knows of this.”

  “It shames me that I brought dishonor to the Shaolin Temple of Changlin,” Wang said, his voice showing his contrition.

  Clark smiled. “But we will not speak of this now. Now, we will speak as we did when we were very good friends.”

  The line cabin

  Butrum had had no intention of eating supper with Kay and Jake. “Ain’t no need for me to eat beans ’n bacon here when I can get me a good steak ’n some taters in town, which is what I’m a-goin’ to do soon as Hawken gets here. Onliest thing is, the needle-brain is pert’ near always late, ’n there ain’t no doubt in my mind but what he’ll be late again tonight.”

  Because the time finally lacked but an hour of sunset, Butrum was standing out on the front porch, looking for Hawken.

  “I think this might be the best time to escape,” Kay said, speaking quietly enough so not to be overheard by Butrum.

  “Yes, I can help you crawl through the back window and if you run you can get into the trees,” Jake replied, just as quietly. “Butrum’s standing out front looking for Hawken, so he won’t see you, and you won’t even be missed until Hawken gets here. And like Butrum says, Hawken is always late. You would have at least an hour, maybe even longer of a head start.”

  “You mean we’ll have a head start.”

  Jake shook his head. “Kay, you know I can’t go with you. I would slow you down too much. Why, I can barely walk in these things, let alone run.”

  “You won’t have to run, or even walk. There are two horses here—the one I came on and Butrum’s horse. We’ll ride out of here.”

  “How am I going to ride? With these leg irons, there’s no way I can straddle a horse.”

  Kay smiled. “How are you at riding sidesaddle?”

  “Sidesaddle?”

  “You do know what a sidesaddle is, don’t you? They are designed so you don’t have to straddle a horse. It isn’t considered proper for a woman to ride astride. And it just so happens that the horse I rode out here on has a sidesaddle. If we can get you up on it, those leg irons won’t matter. Then, after we get those cuffs off, we’ll switch horses.”

  “Yes!” Jake said enthusiastically, breaking into a broad smile. Just as quickly, the smile disappeared. “It’ll never work. Even if we could sneak out, these things are so awkward that Butrum would be on us before we can even saddle the horses.”

  “Oh, you of little faith,” Kay said.

  Over the next few minutes Kay outlined her plan. At first, Jake was opposed to it, suggesting that it might be too dangerous for her.

  “Jake, you said yourself that when this was over, they would probably kill us, didn’t you?”

  Jake nodded. “Yes, I believe they will.”

  “Even a mewing kitten will fight if it is backed into a corner. We have been backed into a corner, Jake. And I would rather be killed trying to escape than to let them murder me.”

  Jake nodded. “All right.”

  “It’ll take us a minute to get ready.”

  No more than a minute later, Kay opened the door. “Mr. Butrum?” she called in the same sultry voice she had developed as a hostess.

  “Yeah, whatta ya want?”

  “I want to know if you were serious when you said that you and I could have a little party?”

  “What?” Butrum asked, turning to look at her for the first time.

  She was holding the door open, and she was totally nude.

  “What the hell?” The exclamation burst out in total shock.

  “Come on in, and let’s party,” Kay invited. She laughed, a sexy, trilling little laugh.

  Butrum stepped inside. “What
. . . what about him?” he asked, nodding his head toward Jake.

  “I want to watch,” Jake said.

  “Can you believe it? He said he would give me one hundred dollars if he could watch. I’ve had men pay to watch me before, but nobody has ever paid me that much. So, what do you say? You want to help me earn a hundred dollars?”

  “Yeah, hell yeah!” Butrum said with an enthusiastic smile.

  “Well, honey, you can’t do it with your clothes on.”

  Excitedly, Butrum started to undress. Just as both arms were temporarily caught up in the sleeves, Jake stepped up behind him and hit Butrum over the head with a piece of firewood. He went down like a poleaxed steer.

  “Is he dead?” Jake asked.

  Kay knelt down and put her ear over his nose and mouth. “He’s just knocked out. He’s still breathing. Get his pistol while I get dressed.”

  “His pistol, yes.” Just as Jake was pulling the pistol from its holster, Butrum regained consciousness.

  “You bottom-feeder, you hit me!” Butrum shouted and even as he was getting to his feet, he put both hands around Jake’s neck and began squeezing. The pistol fell to the floor.

  “I don’t care what Collins says, I’m goin’ to kill you, you bastard!” Butrum didn’t notice Kay pick up the gun.

  The two men went down to the floor with Butrum on top, his hands still wrapped around Jake’s neck. Jake was making strange gurgling noises. Seeing his face turning blue, Kay pointed the pistol toward Butrum’s head and at point-blank range, pulled the trigger.

  Without a word Butrum fell with a little pool of blood and brain detritus spreading under his head.

  Still struggling to breathe, Jake put his hands to his neck. Quickly, Kay moved over to kneel beside him, and she put her hand on his shoulder. “Jake! Jake! Are you all right?”

  Jake coughed once, then he sat up and took a few deep breaths. “Yes. Yes, I’m all right.”

  In a spontaneous action that shocked her as much as it did him, Kay put both arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, on the mouth. The kiss lasted several dizzying seconds before she realized what she was doing, With a little cry of alarm she pulled away from him. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

 

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