Avenging Angels- Wild Bill's Guns

by A. W. Hart

  He studied the tracks—three wagons, two coaches about the size of stagecoaches, and five horses. He wondered about the missing man, but currently had no way to learn what they thought had happened to him. He was hoping Holmes was just angry because the man had not shown up in time to leave with the group.

  Reno set out after them and caught up with their dust within an hour. He decided he was in an ideal location and stayed right there.

  Neither the chief deputy nor the wanted poster had said anything about Holmes being a Confederate spy. Reno suspected he was a careful man. He found out how careful just before noon.

  Holmes sent one of his horsemen on their back trail to see if they were being followed.

  Reno was not sure how to play it. If he killed the man, he would not show back up, and they would know somebody dangerous was on their trail. The man got to him before he could ponder the matter any further.

  “You wouldn’t be following us, would ya, kid?” the man asked, his hand near a revolver grip.

  “Are you the show from the club? If so, I sure am.” Reno replied, grinning broadly.

  “Why would you be following us?”

  “I was at the show last night. I heard the man tell about the new surprise act and you being in Hermosillo and all. I have some time off between jobs and thought I’d ride over and see the new stuff before it got back to Sonora town. Those girls are real special, huh?”

  “Yeah, they are a big attraction. Just checking.” The man started to wheel his horse, and Reno said, “Smart. Ya just can’t be too careful nowadays. See ya in Hermosillo.”

  The man rode off, and Reno let out the breath he had been holding.

  He rode back to the coach Holmes was in.

  “Just a blond-haired kid and his dog, Boss. Following us to see the show. Guess he’s got time and money.”

  “Well, we will be glad to take his money and give him a show,” Cudgel Holmes said, and the rider moved off and took a flanking position.

  Sara smiled to herself. My blond-haired kid and my dog. Wait until he sees tonight’s show. My act will give him an eyeful.

  Reno stopped to pour some water in his hat for both the horse and Apache.

  He took a swig out of his canteen and split a ham sandwich with the black dog with the white ring around his eye.

  A number of troops, both infantry and mounted, passed on the road. He had heard a lot of talk in town about the siege at Mexico City and some folks named Benito Juarez and Porfirio Diaz taking down Emperor Maximilian. Looks like everybody but the Canadians are revolting, he thought.

  They got to Hermosillo late in the afternoon. Not trying to hide any longer, he rode past the ladies getting out of their canvas-covered wagon.

  He touched his hat and said, “Afternoon, ladies.”

  Sara looked him in the eye, smiled, and said, “Be sure to see our show tonight and tomorrow night, y’hear?” Several of the girls giggled.

  One of the riders said, “Move along, cowboy.” Reno smiled nicely at him, doffed his hat again, and moved along.

  He rode to the Teatro and bought tickets for both nights. He was not sure when he was going to spring her, so he covered his bases.

  The next move was a hotel room, followed by a stable for the horse. The Teatro was fancier than the club in Sonora. He walked into a clothing store and walked out with a black suit, a vest, and a shirt and tie.

  He found a restaurant and got food to go for him and Apache.

  7

  Reno showed up at the Teatro early and was seated near the front center of the stage. He settled in his seat, adjusting his guns in the dark, making sure his trouser cuff was not hung up on the handle of the Bowie knife in his rider boots. The gold in the leather bag was still hidden in his pants and strung from the button on his suspenders. He had to carry it with him. There was certainly no place he could safely leave it.

  Reno had the derringer in the pocket of his new vest, where a derringer belonged.

  There was even a program for the show. It was in Spanish, but he looked at it and could at least tell the order of events. By process of elimination, he guessed “revista” was revue, where the group of girls would dance, Lorena referred to where the singer would sing the song as before, and gran final con La Pelirroja would be the grand finale with somebody or something called La Pelirroja. So, it was the same show, but with this La Pelirroja added, he thought.

  He settled back in the seat and waited with great expectation. Sara had not been in either of the shows he’d seen earlier, so she was not likely to be in the big-deal show in Hermosillo. Reno knew she was safe and seemed happy, so he was going to enjoy watching the girls strut around without his sister dragging him out by the ear. Her comment about “Why do you need to see them when you have me?” still puzzled him.

  The show started the same way, with the lights and orchestra and curtains, just better. The theater was larger and more professional than in Sonora.

  The revue came out and danced much like before, except they wore the skimpier costumes first this time.

  It was even greater, he thought as he clapped and whistled.

  The Lorena song was just as before, except the singer wore a blue wig. He thought from the words, a man should have been singing it, but so what? She was almost naked.

  Then, a long pause. A drumroll. Lights dropped.

  The lights came up to half, and the revue appeared.

  This time, they were wearing little shifts like the chemise Sara had, but these were really thin. Especially in the gas footlights of the theater, where transparent was a better description than thin.

  He leaned forward to see better, although he was almost on the stage. They didn’t have a thing on underneath the shifts.

  With a musical flourish, a tall dancer appeared. She, too, had a thin shift on. Perhaps thinner. She had long auburn hair.

  The new dancer. She must be La Pelirroja, he guessed, having no idea the word meant “redhead.”

  She glided across the stage, dancing as if in a dream. She was like an angel on a cloud. There were even puffs of smoke or fog on the stage. Her dance was as mesmerizing as he reckoned Salome’s dance had been in the Bible.

  Reno watched with his mouth hanging open. La Pelirroja danced to his side of the stage. She was just a few feet away, and she looked down and smiled at him. He thought she was the most beautiful, enticing creature alive, with her bright red lips, heavy black eye make-up, and rouge on her cheeks.

  La Pelirroja spun, and the shift raised almost to her waist. Reno saw her bare bottom at the end of the turn. And an arrow wound.

  Reno’s eyes widened. An arrow wound. He gulped and almost threw up. A red wig.

  It was his sister.

  Sara. She was dancing seductively and smiling. She smiled at him.

  Men in the audience were going crazy. They had never seen such rampant sexuality on a stage anywhere.

  Everyone would be arrested in Kansas.

  If the police had been present in this theater in Catholic Mexico, there would be arrests. Tomorrow night for sure, after this.

  Reno tried to think of the words in James 1:13-14. If he could only remember. He thought it was, But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed.

  He kept watching, telling himself his sister was very talented and danced really well.

  The curtain closed, and the lights in the theater got brighter. The audience was still going crazy. Reno was almost in shock.

  The curtains parted, and Cudgel Holmes walked out. He had the tall redhead in the tiny see-through shift on his arm. The crowd stood and applauded, yelling “Bravo” and whistling.

  Sara looked at the stunned young man in the black suit. He was sitting in the first row, not cheering. She curtsied and smiled at him. He couldn’t help it. He smiled back and blew a kiss to his sister.

  She and Holmes, the man they had traveled miles to kill, disappeared behind the curtains. The crowd started filing out, laughing, joking, and c
ommenting. Reno sat in his seat. Finally, he got up and left.

  The woman on the stage was the girl he had shared a mule with commuting to school less than three years ago.

  “Damn,” he said aloud for the second time in his life. She and Holmes looked too comfortable together. He was going to have to kill Holmes much sooner.

  The show caused every bit as much of a stir Reno would have expected. There was talk the police would be there the following night.

  Reno knew which hotel Sara was using, just not the room or how much security there was. He was not above bribing for the information but did not know the language. He got the horse from the stable and secured a second one. He tied both on the street behind Sara’s hotel. His was already packed and had the Spencer and Sara’s guns on it.

  At three AM, he walked into the hotel. The desk clerk was asleep in an open office behind the front desk. Reno looked around. Nobody there.

  He slipped into the office and held the Bowie against the man’s throat.

  “Do you speak English?”

  The man could not nod with the big, sharp knife where it was, so he said, “Yes.”

  “The tall blonde girl with the traveling show is my sister. She was kidnapped. I need to know her room. You tell me and give me the key, and I will not only spare your life, I will also give you a gold piece. Do you understand?” Reno asked.

  “Yes. She is in room 26 with three other girls. I will get the key for you.”

  Reno allowed him space to get the key marked 26.

  “You kept your part of the deal. I will keep mine, but I have to tie you up. It also protects you. Nobody will think you were asleep and I sneaked past you. So, I will tie you up and gag you. But I will leave a gold coin wherever you say. You don’t want them to find it. It would cast suspicion on you.”

  “Yes. Is good.” The man pointed to where Reno should hide the coin in the small office so the payment would just be between them and watched him do it.

  Reno tied the man and gagged him with a bandanna. He put him in the small office and closed the door.

  He climbed the stairs quietly. There was a man leaning against the hall on the second floor. He was clearly dozing. Apache gave a low growl and Reno said, “Shush.” The man did not hear. Reno walked as quietly as his boots would allow, Bowie in hand.

  When he was within five feet, the man’s eyes popped open in fear. Before he could say anything, Reno rushed him and brought the handle of the big knife down hard on the crown of his head. Reno heard a crack and knew it was his skull. The man slid down the wall to the floor. Reno took his gun and money. The gun was a Confederate copy of the Colts he had in his holsters. There was an exit door leading to a service stair. Reno dragged the man out the door and left him across the closed door after a finishing blow to the head.

  He and Apache looked both ways and went to room 26. He unlocked the door and swept in, guns out. Sara’s eyes popped open, as did one other girl’s. Reno put his finger to his lips. The third girl in bed remained asleep.

  “I am here for my sister,” he whispered. Sara jumped out of bed and ran over and hugged and kissed him. Apache whined and rolled over at her feet. She rubbed his belly.

  “’Bout damn time, Brother,” she said.

  “Good to see you too, Sara.”

  “You already saw me tonight,” she grinned. “Did you like? Told you I would dance for you.”

  “Nobody could have danced better. Now, we gotta make tracks out of here. Right now.”

  “This is all they let us wear so we won’t run away.”

  “Then, wear what you’ve got, plus my coat.” He handed her the derringer. Put it in the right pocket. Take this Confederate revolver, too. C’mon.”

  He stopped at the girl he first awoke.

  “Sorry I scared you, ma’am. I really enjoy your work,” he said.

  Sara punched him in the back hard enough to make him wince and pushed him toward the door. She said, “Bye, Sal,” and walked out the door behind her brother. She had a coat which was too big, bare legs and feet, and a revolver in her hand. She was all Sara Bass, the Beautiful Angel of Death. They put the guns away at the front door of the hotel. They rode hard and got to their original hotel near the riverboat landing around dawn.

  Sara immediately got her black cotton trousers from the carpetbag to put on after she slept. She got the two Colt Navy revolvers. She did not have a shirt, so she would wear the chemise with Reno’s trail coat over it in the morning. She returned the suit coat to him.

  Both were beat. Reno sat up in the chair by the window for the first watch. He figured Sara was a valuable piece of merchandise to Holmes, and he would come after her.

  He was dead wrong. The talk about the show and the cash flowing in were too good to walk away from. Even if they got arrested on morals charges for the show, it would be valuable advertising. He would just bond everyone out. Holmes knew for a fact every area judge was in the audience and had been cheering and whistling as loudly as anyone else.

  As soon as he learned of Sara’s disappearance and found his man’s body, he had Thad remove the body and make it disappear. He talked with Dona Felicia and Don Luis. The latter two said Sara was unusually natural for an untrained dancer, but they could put the wig on Sally and substitute her without anybody recognizing the difference. After all, the dancing skill was not what made it a hit. It was the music and costume or lack thereof, they emphasized.

  Reno did not wake Sara to spell him. He reckoned all her dancing and a fast ride must have tuckered her out. Towards morning, he climbed back into bed. Apache made a small noise but did not wake up.

  Reno propped against the iron headboard. Asleep, Sara felt he was there and snuggled up against him like she had all their lives. There was something about twins. They always sensed the presence and thoughts of each other. He hugged her in the dark. Thank God she was back and safe.

  She smiled and said nothing. Her world was complete again. She had her Reno and her Apache. Back in Prescott, she would have Grace. And she had enjoyed the most freeing, exciting experience in her life, dancing in Hermosillo. She would do it again every time she could.

  8

  Reno did not see any of the diminishing group of Holmes’s men when he went down to pick up food. He had paid a surcharge the previous night for turning in two horses. One was his original one, and the other was from Hermosillo. Since the horses were returned, the next thing on their agenda was the riverboat north at noon. If Holmes and his men rode in while they were boarding, there was sure to be blood flowing on the streets of the port town. If he had to commit piracy to get the riverboat headed back toward Hardyville, he would. The sooner he could put Mexico behind them, the better.

  He was not sure Sara felt the same. She had murmured terms like “freeing, exhilarating, spiritual, and magical.” He was sure she meant the dancing and not the country.

  At eleven AM, they walked to the sternwheeler dock. Reno had the scabbard for the Spencer rolled up in his bag. He carried the .56 caliber repeater in his hand. Sara had her two Navies and his derringer. He also had his two, the rebel copy, and the Bowie.

  The Avenging Angels were ready for war.

  Apache trotted along, even more ready than the Basses for the next adventure.

  Reno was convinced the midnight boat was owned by Holmes. He did not know about the noon one. Certainly, the lying officer he had spoken to was on Holmes’s payroll. He decided the best approach would be what he had done on his last ride. No room. Go to the bow. He and Sara would sit back to back, ready for an attack from any direction.

  They boarded.

  She enjoyed the open-air version of the trip. They arrived back in Hardyville by late afternoon. The night seemed to go by fast. They bought stage tickets back to Prescott after a cup of coffee the next morning.

  Back in Prescott, they visited Jack, Grace, and Thunder at the livery and paid the bill.

  They both liked the city.

  They found a small cottage
for rent by the month about a mile from the outskirts of Prescott. It was less expensive long-term than a hotel, so they signed the lease for several months and paid the first, last, and a deposit on it. Their next trip in was to buy groceries and feed.

  But the most important stop was at the Yavapai County sheriff’s office. They picked up their Remingtons and the two Winchesters they had left in care there. Reno reported Sara’s kidnapping. They were told to go to the courthouse and swear out a warrant with the magistrate. Before leaving, they picked up several new Wanted Dead or Alive posters fitting their requirements. There was one for a bank robber they took only to recover the money spent in Mexico with no financial return.

  The deputy in the office also said one of the people they used for information reported Holmes had just been arrested with a large number of people in Hermosillo. The arrest was related to a show.

  “Any way the government can extradite him?” Sara asked.

  “Probably not. I bet he’s already out. He has a bunch of friends in high places down there. Only way we will ever get him is here in the Territory when he takes the steamboat up. My guess is it won’t be anytime soon,” the deputy said.

  “Yeah, he has a big business in Sonora. No reason to leave. Unless we can bait him like a catfish,” Sara said.

  “You have an idea, don’t you?” Reno asked.

  “I do. It involves playing on his ego. What if I sent a letter to him in Sonora saying I was so sorry to leave quickly without killing him first since you and I are bounty hunters and came down to bring his dead body back to Prescott?”

  The deputy was the first to speak.

  “No offense, but this guy was a spy in the war. He’s good with any type of weapon and has some tough thugs working for him. Are the two of you really up to taking this on?”

  “I believe so,” Reno said. “He actually has several less thugs now than he did a couple days ago. I had to dispatch them to get Sara back.”