Bounty Hunter

by Michelle E Lowe

  “While waiting for you at the courthouse, I overheard Deputy Ortega speaking to Sheriff Flores about a murder discovered in a hotel yesterday morning. The deputy investigated it. The Saddleback Inn, I think.”

  “You don’t say,” Pierce mused. “We’ll head east and see if we come across it.” Pierce steered his horse around. “Let’s crack on.”

  They headed out, and lo and behold, they located the small, Saddleback Inn near the edge of the city limits.

  “He says there were people who match our description, and that they came in the day before,” Emma said, translating what the hotel clerk told her. “The tall man in black was a Spaniard, though, not Mexican.”

  “How can he tell?” Pierce asked.

  “His accent,” Emma explained. “The clerk overheard him speaking to the others.”

  “I see. And the others?”

  “A native woman, a white man, and a smaller person wearing a gasmask.”

  “A gasmask?” Pierce noted. “Odd.”

  “They have signed their names in the hotel log, if we want to read them.”

  “We’ll have a look on our way out. I doubt they used their real names, but knowing their aliases might come in handy,” Pierce explained. “Are any of them still here?”

  She asked the clerk and then listened for the answer.

  “No,” she answered unsurprisingly. “Everyone left the day of the races, except for the white man who was staying in the chambers where the body was discovered.”

  Pierce snapped his fingers. “Brilliant. Tell him to take us there.”

  The desk clerk led them up to a room that reeked of rotten meat. Jaxton couldn’t handle it and stayed out in the hall. The space was a disheveled mess. A woman’s clothing lay on the floor around the unmade bed. Liquor bottles decorated the place, with some sitting atop of the dresser and bedside table like cheap vases. It appeared the occupant had been staying there for a few days.

  “The dead woman was a prostitute?” Pierce asked when Itza-chu explained about the body.

  “The maid found her on the bed with bruises on her neck,” Itza-chu said. “The staff is waiting for the smell to clear away before cleaning the room.”

  Pierce could understand that. The reek of decay lingered so thickly in the hot, stuffy room, he was tempted to do what the hotel clerk was doing and hold a handkerchief to his face.

  “It wasn’t until the guest’s check-out day arrived that someone went in,” Itza-chu continued.

  As he spoke, Pierce studied the small area. He noticed a broken leather strap near the bedpost. He picked it up to exam it. It appeared to be a strap from a rucksack. Between the mattress and the footboard, he spied a coin.

  Left in a hurry, didn’t you, you bugger?

  He crouched to look beneath the bed and then checked under the dresser. Pierce got down on his belly and slid his hand into the thin space under the bottom of the dresser. Eventually, he came across something other than a herd of dust bunnies.

  He stood with the pesos he’d found. “I think these are from the bank.”

  Itza-chu arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Are you sure? Those could have come from anywhere.”

  The clerk chimed in.

  “He says there was money all over the floor when the maid first entered. The officers who came to investigate before the undertaker arrived took it,” Emma explained.

  “They did, eh?”

  It struck Pierce as odd that the sheriff failed to mention the murder and the money they had found. It would have saved them time to come here first.

  Itza-chu asked the clerk something and then relayed, “He doesn’t know which way he went.”

  Pierce clutched the pesos tightly in his fist and pressed it to his forehead, thinking. He thought back to what Grandmother Fey had told him about seeing a man inside a cantina.

  “What coastal towns are north of here?”

  “There’s Las Tinajas,” Itza-chu answered. “It’s just past the canal.”

  “Too close,” Pierce said, dismissing it. “After killing the woman, this bloke wants to get a lot farther away from the city. What else?”

  “San Carlos,” Emma said. “It’s a few hours ride out. Do you think it’s where they’re heading?”

  “One of them, anyway,” Pierce remarked, exiting the room. “C’mon. Let’s get something to eat and start up the coast.”

  * * *

  The ride to San Carlos was brutally hot. Unable to withstand it, Pierce suggested riding along the beach so they at least had the comforts of the sea breeze.

  “The desert is a drastic change from England, eh?” Jaxton commented while riding alongside Pierce.

  “A tad. Isn’t it bloody September?”

  “September 3, actually,” Jaxton answered matter-of-factly. “It matters little down here, however.”

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Pierce griped, taking off his top hat and tinted spectacles to wipe sweat away with his shirtsleeve. “Even Italy in the summer never felt this hot.”

  “You’ve been there?” Emma spoke up as she rode along Pierce’s other side.

  “Aye. Made it as far as Genoa.”

  “I’ve visited Genoa,” she admitted.

  “Did you learn to speak Italian, as well?”

  “Sí, un po,” she answered with a smirk. “I was only in Italy for a few months before traveling on.”

  She impressed Pierce so much he could hardly stand it. Emma obtained knowledge easily, the same as he. Emma’s untamable beauty and wild spirit were also traits that were difficult to ignore. Pierce could stare at her until his eyes dried out.

  “How many languages do you speak?” he wondered.

  “Only four fluently. I speak a handful more, but brokenly.”

  He grinned widely at this remarkable creature. “What got you here to the races?”

  “While Gabriela and I lived in London, I learned a lot about mechanics. We fell in with a group of Contributors. Heard of them?”

  “Aye.”

  “We built all sorts of things: automaton robots and even electrical equipment. Gabriela suggested we travel to Japan to expand our knowledge, and it was there we began working on mobile machines. We designed the Wheel, and last year, we decided to move to San Clemente to assemble it after learning about the races down here in our home country.”

  “Your life sounds fascinating, love,” Pierce said with awe, still grinning foolishly.

  Emma shied away and blushed. “Gracias.”

  Pierce had nearly forgotten about the tortuous heat when Jaxton said, “Y’know, you wouldn’t be so hot if you’d remove your scarf.”

  Pierce huffed. “The bloody scarf makes no difference.”

  That was a lie, but he wasn’t about to remove it and explain about the damn scar across this throat. The ugly line also made him highly insecure.

  Pierce had forgiven Joaquin for his murder attempt. He’d been under a spell, one involving deadly demon’s blood, which ultimately did Joaquin in. If it weren’t for the witch, Freya Bates, not only would Pierce not have that unsightly scar, but he’d also have his brother by his side. Thinking about it, Pierce almost welcomed the chance to take the witch on.

  “So why did you tell the sheriff I was a bounty hunter?” Pierce asked Jaxton, changing the subject.

  The Australian shrugged. “It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

  “But why did you do it, lad? Why stick your neck out for the likes of me?”

  “What can I say?” he admitted with another shrug. “I’ve taken a liking to you.”

  Pierce grimaced.

  “What?” Jaxton demanded.

  Realizing his reaction, Pierce shook his head. “Nothing, lad. Cheers for what you did.”

  Jaxton gave him a curt nodded. “Anytime, mate.”

  “What about you, Pierce?” Emma joined in. “Tell us about you. What brought you to this country?”

  Pierce had no intention of telling any of them the whole truth about himself. Altho
ugh there were thousands of miles between himself and the continent where he’d fallen out of favor with the law, he wasn’t about to boast about his days as an outlaw.

  “My family and I were simply ready for a change, love. The Sea Warriors agreed to bring us to the Hawaiian Islands to live.”

  “The Hawaiian Islands? Gabriela and I stayed there for a few days during our crossing over the Pacific. Your wife must be thrilled to be traveling to such a lovely place.”

  “Tai? Aye, she is. We haven’t seen what the islands even look like yet. Only heard about them.”

  “You will not be disappointed,” she promised. “You and your family are very fortunate.”

  “If you’re right about this bloke being in San Carlos,” Jaxton interrupted, “I’ll be inclined to believe you are a bounty hunter.”

  “What do you mean?” Pierce demanded.

  “You seem well experienced in this sort of thing, lad. What did you do in England?”

  Jaxton was bang on about that. Pierce had experience credited to his years on the run. He suspected that Jaxton’s question stemmed from Pierce’s own slipup at the Chinchilla Cantina, when he basically admitted to having been transported to a penal colony.

  “I was a wanderer, mate,” Pierce answered simply. “That’s all.”

  The Australian seemed unconvinced but didn’t press.

  To keep any more questions about him from arising, Pierce said, “How much farther till we reach San Carlos, Itza-chu?”

  “We still have a ways to go, White Horse,” answered the native riding ahead of them.

  “Don’t bloody call me that!”

  * * *

  They arrived at San Carlos in the late evening. Pierce followed Grandmother Fey’s advice and began searching the cantinas. To their good fortune, there weren’t many gringos around, and going by the description the hotel clerk had provided, he surely wouldn’t be too hard to miss.

  After searching several cantinas, the group came across a brown block of a building. Pierce peered in through the window and spied the white man sitting with a band of Mexicans, playing cards at a table.

  “There’s the bloke,” Pierce announced quietly.

  The others looked in. Their mark was a rugged looking wanker. His complexion was reddened by constant sun exposure. He had straggly strawberry hair, shabby, uneven muttonchops, and a long goatee he had braided like a Viking. He wore a dusty buckskin jacket with fringes on it and britches of brown hide. The bulky clothing made it difficult to tell, but, judging by the man’s thin face and scrawny neck, there didn’t seem to be much meat on him.

  Itza-chu nodded with a grunt. “What is your plan?”

  Pierce hadn’t one. He thought a moment.

  “The simplest plan is for us to march in and apprehend the twit,” Jaxton threw in.

  “Simplest, and also the deadliest,” Pierce responded. “We go barging in there and chances are someone will get shot. For all we know, those gents with him are mates of his.”

  Jaxton considered that. “True. And I’m a piss-poor marksman.”

  His little confession prompted Pierce to ask Emma an important question. “How’s your aim?”

  “I’m fairly good, but I only intend on using my pistol for self-defense. I am not willing to kill anyone.”

  Pierce didn’t care for that answer. Although he’d rather she didn’t do anything her conscience would struggle with later on, if things went to pot and she hesitated, it might jeopardize her life, as well as everyone else’s.

  “We’re playing a dangerous game here, love,” he clarified in a soft tone so as not to frighten her. “If it comes down to kill or be killed, you’d best be ready for it.”

  Pierce turned his attention back toward the window, pondering. Their mark had apparently lost the poker game and was standing up while shouting in Spanish at his opponents. They, in turn, scoffed at him as they gathered their winnings and headed for the door. The cafe doors swung open, and the men came out, chuckling as they passed Pierce and his posse.

  “Nope. Not his mates,” Pierce noted with relief.

  “What about me?” Itza-chu chimed in.

  “What about you?” Pierce asked.

  “Aren’t you going to inquire about my qualifications?”

  Pierce automatically recognized the man was fucking with him.

  “If you’re able to gun down a man as good as you shoot stags, I think we have no worries, eh? Now, let’s figure this out. None of us has done this sort of thing before, so how should we approach it?”

  “Maybe we can wait until he comes out and take him then,” Emma suggested.

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Pierce watched as their mark ordered a bottle of liquor at the bar. “The sod might be in there a while. Let’s wait a tick until he’s good and pissed. C’mon, we’ll go in and keep an eye on ’im.”

  “I’ll wait out here,” Itza-chu suggested. “It would be wiser.”

  He had a point. If anyone objected to having an Indian inside the cantina, it could hinder them getting their mark.

  “Right,” Pierce agreed before entering. “Keep an eye out in case he tries to run.”

  The cantina was a simple building of white stucco walls decorated with animal hides and cheap paintings. Stools lined the front of the dirty bar where a single bartender stood before a wall of alcohol bottles sitting on dusty, wooden shelves. The floor was littered with peanut shells and liquor stains. Pierce and the others took a seat at a table in the back corner where they wouldn’t draw too much notice.

  Hours later and their mark was still drinking. Pierce had never seen anything like it.

  “How the bloody hell can he still be at it?” Jaxton wondered. “He hasn’t even once gone out to the dunny.”

  “Aye,” Pierce sighed. “At this rate, we’ll all be asleep by the time he reaches his limit.”

  Pierce wasn’t far from the truth. If it wasn’t for Taisia giving him a calm, stress-free evening that in turn had granted him a decent night’s sleep, he would’ve been face-down on the table, snoring away already. Still, after sharing a bottle of tequila with Emma and Jaxton, Pierce’s exhaustion began weighing on him like a stone falling into deep waters.

  “The cantina could be open all night,” Emma said with a yawn.

  “Bloody Christ,” Pierce moaned, rubbing his face. “That’s it. I’m going over there and start a fight with the bastard. Get us tossed out. You two join Itza-chu outside and be ready to nab ’im.”

  “No,” Emma said with concern. “Something bad could happen if you have an altercation with that man.”

  “I can handle it, darling,” Pierce assured her.

  He then questioned himself about that. Grandmother Fey had warned him the chances of him being killed were high.

  “I have an idea,” Emma uttered. “I will pose as a whore and convince him to come outside.”

  Pierce immediately rejected that plan. When Taisia had volunteered to go with Joaquin to meet Coira, it had been far more dangerous than what Emma was offering to do. But, Taisia was capable of holding her own in the face of danger. Pierce had virtually no knowledge about Emma other than what she had told him.

  Pierce shook his head. “No, darling. It’s too risky.”

  Emma seemed poised to argue when Jaxton stood and started for the bar.

  Pierce also rose. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

  Jaxton only hissed from the corner of his mouth as he continued.

  “Shite,” Pierce cursed, watching him approach their mark.

  “Leave him,” Emma ordered, gently pulling him into his seat by his arm. “Let’s just watch and see what he does.”

  Pierce’s hands began shaking. He didn’t fancy Jaxton using himself as bait any more than Emma. Jaxton positioned himself at the bar beside their mark and ordered a drink. The mark was slouched over the bar, his forehead resting on his closed fist as though contemplating his life. He barely moved until Jaxton began his act.

  “Thanks very
much,” Jaxton said to the bartender who had handed him his glass.

  The Australian drank the entire drink and slammed the glass down, making their mark jump.

  Jaxton pulled out his coin purse. “Best tally up, eh?”

  He pretended to accidently drop it on the bar and coins spilled out all over the place. Among the loot was a gold ring.

  “Watch it, you drunk idiot,” the mark spat as Jaxton collected his belongings.

  “’S’cuse me, mate,” Jaxton apologized, picking up the ring and holding it up for him to see. “Don’t wanna lose this. I’m planning on proposing to my sweetheart with this ring.”

  Pierce had no idea how much the robber had gotten from the bank heist, but when he saw the gold ring, he gawked at it. Jaxton placed everything back inside his purse, save for a few pesos for the drink and headed out the door. The mark finished his drink and followed him out.

  “Right,” Pierce said, standing while tossing pesos on the table. “Here we go.”

  They hurried outside where a struggle was taking place by the horses. By the time they got over there, the robber was on the ground, moaning. Itza-chu stood over him, holding a piece of broken wood he had used to hit him on the head.

  Pierce gaped in awe and relief. “You got him?”

  “We did,” Jaxton spoke up, emerging from the darkness at the side of the cantina. “I lured the fool straight to Itza-chu.”

  It amazed Pierce just how fast the pair had acted.

  “Grand. Let’s mount him on the horse and clear out.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Reanimation

  Gabriela was alone in her hotel room, folding her clothing after having it returned from the wash. She had decided to stay in Guaymas for a few days more in case Emma came to her senses. She had always viewed Emma as having a good head on her shoulders, which said a lot, coming from someone like Gabriela, a certified genius. Even as a child, Gabriela had been drawn to Emma’s innovative way of thinking.

  In general, Gabriela thought little about anything other than progress. She cared much for science and engineering, and she had believed she had found a true partner who would help build their contributions to The Age of the Machine Era. With someone like Emma by her side, Gabriela felt they could go very far—farther than any women had gone in this unjust and biased world. Now, everything hung on a very thin string thanks to the man Emma fancied. Granted, Pierce Landcross struck Gabriela as handsome, even beautiful, but the fact that Emma was willing to toss it all away to be with him made her sick to her stomach. And to make matters worse, Emma had decided to risk her life to chase down dangerous fugitives with him.