The Jessie James Archives
Page 11
“You realize that will never bring any of those people you lost back? The way of life you’re talking about, that went away a long time ago, and was fading long before the first shot was fired at Fort Sumter. You can’t give your life meaning by striking out at people who had nothing to do with that. Are the men and women you ride with any better than the people you terrorize?”
He stared at her for a moment, blinking as if waking up from a hypnotic state. But when he spoke, his words were calm and clear. “Have you ever tried living off revenge?”
She stared into his eyes, her gaze not wavering at all as she answered without hesitation. “Yes. It brought me nothing but pain.”
That brought Jesse up short for a moment. In the end, though, his old familiar smile returned. “Well, I find it suits me just fine. Just because a fine filly can’t live off a fresh kill, Miss Lucy, don’t mean that it ain’t good for a mountain lion.”
She looked at him for a long time without speaking. There was an almost imperceptible shaking of her head, and an almost unnoticeable hint of pity in her eyes. She reached towards him and he leaned away, his smile faltering slightly. But she reached past him, taking up two tall glasses that had been set on the bar beyond.
“I’m being summoned, Mr. James. This was… enlightening, to say the least.” Her amazing smile flashed once again, and all of the tangled emotions running rampant through his chest eased immediately. But before he could think to make one final statement, she was gone, weaving her way gracefully back through the crowd towards the gaming tables. He could not help but notice every man’s eyes following her as she past. He snorted, shook his head, and grabbed his own beers off the bar, moving back towards where his brother still sat, unmoving, an appreciative grin still firmly fixed in place.
“Damn,” Frank said as he sat up and grabbed one of the beers. He tilted it towards where Lucy was handing her friend a glass, once again charming the men at his table. “D’you ever notice, the way they move when they put their mind to it?”
Jesse grunted as he sat heavily back into his own chair. “What?”
Frank gave a chuckle. “Women! When they put their minds to it, they move unlike anything you’ve ever seen before! All the parts moving in so many different direction all at once, and yet it gets them right to where they’re going, and you can’t take your eyes off ‘em!” He made a face as he knocked back a slug of his beer. “Damn, Jesse, you couldn’t of taken a second to run this over? Tastes like two week old mule piss and it’s flatter’n a cow flap in August!”
Jesse’s forehead was furrowed in thought and frustration as he settled back in his seat. He did not spare his brother the briefest glance. His eyes were fixated on the gaming corner, where Lucy was smiling and laughing at the players around the table as her dour companion, all but ignored in the glow of her beauty, proceeded to once again drag handfuls of cash back to his corner of the table.
His voice was vague and without force as he muttered, “shut up and drink your mule piss, you bastard.”
*****
The streets of Kansas City were nearly empty as the roaring growl of Iron Horses swept up the waterfront from the west and into the center of town. It was a large gang, and the townsfolk could tell from the poorly-maintained vehicles and the wild variations in clothing, that despite the massive weaponry mounted on the ‘Horses, this was no military unit coming in on leave.
William Bonney, known to most folks as Billy the Kid, rode at the head of the gang, his back straight, his smile carefree, and his kerchief whipping along behind him. He nodded mockingly to various men and women as he passed, reveling in the fearful looks and angry glares this earned him. He knew that if he wanted to take the time to circle back around, not a single man who had glared at him would have the sand to back it up. He smiled even more widely.
Billy throttled back his machine to allow the men just behind him to catch up.
“Now, don’t forget, we’re just here to talk!” He shouted over the reverberant rumble of the engines. “You know Jesse don’t like to be baited in his own lair, and word has it he’s been here in KC long enough, he’s bound to be feelin’ like he owns the place.”
The men who could hear him nodded. Many of them had ridden with Jesse James in the past. It was inevitable in the fluid structure of loyalties and alliances that connected the various outlaw bands together. But as was often the case with Jesse James, the more a man knew him, who was not riding in his inner circle, the less he trusted him.
“We gotta approach this delicate like, okay? We come up on him like we’re on the shoot, that’s what we’re gonna get.” Billy shook a bag he held in his right hand. “And this ain’t the time to be stirrin’ up trouble amongst our own selves. There’s too much ridin’ on this, and Jesse’ll make it all a whole lot easier if he’s ridin’ with us… for now, anyway.” He grinned wickedly to the rest of the men, and they snickered and nodded their heads.
“Okay, so when we go in, I just want Smiley and Garrett with me. All the rest of you, go find somewhere to spend whatever coin you’ve got left, ‘till I need you. I don’t think Jesse’ll want to start any trouble here even if he’s of an ornery mind. But just in case, I don’t want ya’ll too far away, you got me?”
The men nodded, and in twos and threes the Iron Horses began to peel away from the formation in search of their various amusements until called upon. Two men stuck with outlaw leader, one greasy and obese with the flat, dead eyes of a snake, the other a pleasantly nondescript young man with a mean-looking gun slung over his shoulder.
Billy looked up at the buildings as they slid by on either side. “Word is he’s staying up on Independence.” He peered up at the signs, noting the wildly diverse types of architecture that helped make Kansas City one of the largest burgs in the west. Brick three story businesses stood beside the rough and ready timber construction of frontier settlements across territories. And everywhere, there was the red glimmer of RJ-1027 generators supplying power to nearly every building. He had not been in Kansas City for more years than he could remember, and he knew it was going to take a while for him to find Jesse, wherever he had dug himself into.
*****
Lucinda Loveless, assassin and secret agent for the president of the United States, wove through the crowd in the Arcadia Saloon holding two drinks high and smiling at every man who looked her way. Damn, she hated this role. When her partner, Henry Courtright, had suggested they assume the guise of a gambler and his professional girl, she had argued against it. But the situation in Kansas City was quite fluid. The dynamic energy of a frontier city clung to the place despite its more refined façade and the power and prestige of the Heavy Rail hub station. In the end, although she hated playing to the crowds like this, she had failed to come up with anything with an equal chance of success, and so here she was, smiling until her jaw ached and carrying drinks to Courtright. It only made it worse, knowing that he loved it.
“Well, gentlemen,” Courtright was blurring his accent a bit, hiding its deep northern roots behind a slight twang that seemed to recall the Carolina coast more than anywhere else. He leaned back in his chair, one elbow thrown over the back, raking in the pot with his other hand. “I’m amenable to a cessation of hostilities until you can replenish your funds, if you are willing?” He smiled a rare smile that seemed more of a challenge than a friendly gesture, and the men around the table looked grim and uncertain. Grim and uncertain, that was, until Lucinda came gliding up behind Courtright and gently placed a drink at his elbow. She swirled around to stand beside him, her smile bright and her eyes shining. The men, instantly changing their attitude as she sailed back into the picture, were all smiles as well.
“Well, sir,” one older gentlemen said, his eyes never leaving Lucinda’s neckline. “It’s right neighborly of you to give us the pleasure of a further game.” He looked back up to meet Courtright’s eyes without any awareness that he’d been staring. “Shall we say a quarter of an hour before we reconvene?”
“It is so nice of ya’ll to make us feel welcome, boys.” She leaned over slightly to pick up a few coins from Courtright’s pile, pretending not to notice the effect it had on the other men. She straightened and then slowly walked around the table. “I wouldn’t want you all to go dry while you prepare yourselves for valiant combat once again, and I so do want to watch more of your game! So, please, take back some of Henry’s ill-gotten gains for a drink on us, to replenish your strength for the renewed battle.” With a smile she pressed a coin into each man’s hands, being sure to maintain the contact with a lingering motion for each. It was as if she were casting a spell, and each and every one of them were following her with their eyes, dumb smiles on their faces, when she returned to stand beside Courtright once again.
The men stared at her, dumbstruck, and nodded slightly to the cadence of her voice. “Now, boys, you go do whatever it is you have to do, so you and Henry can continue this fascinating ritual in, what did you say, Mr. Stanfield? A quarter of an hour?”
The distinguished older man took her hand and bowed low over it. “Indeed, young lady. More than enough time to prepare for another skirmish with your imposing companion, but far too much time to be away from your radiant beauty.”
The others nodded rapdily, and then followed Stanfield away, muttering to themselves. Lucinda could not quite make out what they were discussing, but it seemed to involve the source of the capital for their next attempt.
“I hope you’re planning on filing a report for that money.” Lucinda sat down beside Courtright. Her hand rested teasingly on his shoulder, her face was bright with open admiration and warmth, but her voice was coldly amused.
“For what they pay us?” Courtright leaned closer, his northern accent seeping through. “They can raise taxes, if they need more cash.” He flicked his eyes towards the table where the James boys still sat, trying not to stare at Lucinda now that the game had broken up. “That them?”
Lucinda laughed as if her companion had made a hilarious remark, tapping him lightly with the hand on his shoulder. Her voice, however, was still cold, and she leaned in close, pitching her response beneath the room’s general chatter. “With those arms? Who the hell else would it be? I swear, Courtright, sometimes it feels like I have to do all the thinking around here.”
He smiled wickedly at her and flicked a golden coin up in the air in front of her. She jerked back slightly but caught it readily enough with her off hand. “Buy yourself somethin’ pretty, little lady. And you don’t worry your lovely little noggin about the deeper thoughts.”
She let a bit of her sour response leak through her kept-woman demeanor before smiling brightly at him again. “Keep it up, you’ll be waking one night missing a party or two I know you, anyway, look upon as essential. I know where you sleep.”
He snorted and tossed back half his drink. He grimaced at the taste. “Christ, Luce, what’d you do, sit on this for an hour?”
She kissed him fondly on the cheek, eyes twinkling. “You got complaints,” she whispered, “get your own damned drink next time. Now, what are we going to do about the James boys?”
Courtright looked over at the back table again with a speculative eye. “Well, we think those were Coles we bumped into on the way in, right?”
She nodded, easing back into her own chair and taking a delicate sip of her drink. It was clearly an effort for her not to react visibly to the taste.
“Well, if both the James boys are here, and at least two of the Younger brothers, then that means they’re probably all here. Did you get anything out of him about Carpathian?”
Lucinda shook her head. “No.”
Courtright looked at her sharply. “No? He didn’t say anything about the old man?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t ask.” There was a sharp edge of guilt beneath her response. Usually she was much better at getting the information she needed from a mark, but she had somehow lost her way while talking with Jesse James.
“You didn’t ask?” Courtright sat back and stared at her in dismay. Coming back to himself he looked around and then leaned back towards the table. “You were over there for God knows how long, Luce, and you didn’t bring up the one thing that brought us here in the first place?”
She shrugged again, trying to hide her embarrassment. “It didn’t come up.”
Courtright leaned back in his chair and stared at Lucinda speculatively. “Hmmm,” was his only response a moment later.
“What do you mean, ‘hmmm’?” Her eyes were now flinty, and she leaned forward in a way that could easily have been seen as threatening.
He waved it off. “Nothing. You’re going to have to go back and talk to him again, though, you realize that, right? I mean, we didn’t come all this way to stop off for a quick flirtation before getting back to the real job, you know.”
The anger in her eyes flared. “I was not flirting. Understanding what makes that man tick could open up the whole outlaw organization to us. I don’t have to explain to you what that would mean to all our efforts out here, do I?”
He put his hands up in mock surrender, shaking his head but smiling still. “Hey, hey! I was just having fun with you. You’re a professional, I get it. Laying the ground work, it’s all standard. No problem.” He lowered his hands to pick up his drink, thought better of it, and folded them before him on the table. “That doesn’t change the fact that you have to go back over there and talk to him some more, however. We have to find out where the damned doctor is, or the president will have our hides.”
She nodded, looking down at her own hands, sneering slightly at the paint and polish that adorned her nails like some common dancehall girl. “I’m giving him a few minutes to miss me, then I’ll go back in. Is that damned brother of his still at the table?”
Courtright glanced back and then nodded. “Yeah. Can’t keep his eyes off you either.” He smiled slyly again. “Looks like you may just have bagged yourself two James boys for the price of one.” The smile faltered. “Now go and bag us a doctor.”
Lucinda shook her head faintly. With a look her partner could not interpret, she stood again. Anyone who did not know her would have missed the transition from resigned acceptance to graceful playfulness as she rose. She gave Courtright one last look and then turned on one high heel, swaying her way back through the crowded tables towards Jesse James.
As she moved through the crowd she reflected on why she had been so distracted with the outlaw in their first encounter. It had certainly been a strange path that had brought them together here in this filthy little dive in Kansas City.
She saw Jesse watching her approach. He had been watching her since she rose, she realized, and summoned her most alluring smile. She glided up to the outlaw’s table and indicated a chair beside him. “Mind if I have a seat, Mr. James?”
The older brother, Frank, jumped up and pulled back the chair for her. “Certainly, miss! Glad to have you!” He gave her a bright smile of his own as he settled back into his chair. “Might I say, you have certainly brightened the premises of this poor establishment today?”
She caught Jesse giving his brother a dark look and wondered if it was jealousy or just annoyance at his forward older brother.
“Ain’t you got someplace you gotta be, Frank?” the sour tone matched the look, and Lucinda smiled a little more genuinely to think that it might just be a tinge of jealousy after all.
Frank looked at his brother, his smile slipping a little, before he shook himself, smiled even wider, this time equal parts charm and amusement, and stood with a nod. “Certainly do, little brother. Gotta see a man about a horse.”
Frank James nodded at Lucinda and took her hand, glancing at his brother with a grin before gently brushing the back of it with his lips. “You don’t tucker the lad out now, little lady. He’s got work he’s g
otta do.” He stood back up and gave his brother a glance that Lucinda could not interpret, but it had a dark edge. “Don’t forget what we were talkin’ ‘bout, Jesse. We got pressin’ business that ain’t gonna press any less the longer we hang about KC.”
Frank lifted the elegantly-scoped long rifle from where it rested against his chair and began to walk away and then turned, a downright vicious glint in his smile. “Oh, and remember, we’re all meetin’ up at the Occidental for the show. Wouldn’t want to disappoint Misty, right?” With a quick chuckle, he turned again and was gone.
“Misty?” Lucinda pretended to be unaware of the name.
Jesse shot his brother’s back a dark look, shaking his own head in disbelief. He looked back at Lucinda. “A girl. Frank’s just shootin’ his mouth off again. He does that a lot.”
Lucinda nodded. For some reason, the fact that he had not identified Misty more clearly annoyed her.
“So, what brings you back to my table, Ms. Lucy?” His smile was back as he leaned into his chair in a relaxed pose. His eyes flicked over to the gaming table where Courtright was organizing his winnings with a slight smile of his own.
“Well, I just wanted to talk some more, and my… friend,” she nodded over her shoulder to the gaming tables, “won’t be needing my help for awhile.”
Jesse smiled at that. “Friend. That’s rich. Tell me, you get a cut of his take? Or does he just pay you a flat fee? Or maybe you do it for true love?” His voice was a little bitter, and she decided she needed to go forward with a little more caution.
“It’s purely a business relationship, I assure you, Mr. James.” She tried to put a little chill into her words to convince him he had wandered close to a line.
Jesse smiled again. “Well, ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ a lady from conductin’ her own business, that’s for sure.”
Lucinda’s shock at his words caught her by surprise. She made a show of lowering herself into a chair, masking the momentary lapse with another smile. Haunting words from her unhappy childhood rang in her ears. It had not been pleasant, after he farther was killed at the Petersburg siege. Her mother, bitter and resentful, had tried to fill the gaping hole he had left behind with alcohol and a succession of gentlemen callers who made the house a living hell for little Lucy. She had escaped as soon as she could make her own way, and had struggled against perception and expectation as much as any other obstacles as she established herself in one of the most competitive arenas in the world. She brought herself quickly to the present and shook her head slightly.