“What brings you here, my friend? You have un enemigo aquí. He’s here in the barrio.”
“Entiendo, amigo. And I need your help.”
Luke explained in greater detail what had happened in Corpus Christi and Nuecestown, especially focused on Perez, but also inquiring about the woman with the gold. Garcia had met Luke back when he was deputy sheriff in Corpus and had come north to find out about some rustler. Garcia had been helpful, and they had established a bit of a friendship. Garcia brokered livestock, so was very appreciative of Luke’s efforts to stop rustling. Men like Perez, who only wanted the cattle hides, were highly undesirable. They were called hiders.
“Do you know where Perez is staying?”
Garcia actually had learned to speak English just enough to be one of the most popular men of Mexican descent in the barrio. The mayor, or alcalde, title was more an honorific. He was respected in the Anglo portions of San Patricio. Very little went on that he was not aware of. “He’s staying on the outskirts of the barrio. I hear he’s setting a trap for that red-haired woman you spoke of.” The mayor stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I have also heard that she hopes to take the stage coach day after tomorrow to Austin.”
“Does Perez have any friends with him?”
“No. He is alone.” Garcia gave Luke directions to the place where Perez was staying. “Buena suerte, amigo.”
Luke thanked him, and agreed that he might need some luck.
***
Perez kept watch from the second-floor window. He dared not venture onto the balcony, as his face was becoming too well known. He had a good view of the street below. He wouldn’t miss Scarlett’s arrival if the black-haired whore had done her job. He’d rented an adjoining room so as to make her less suspicious of trouble.
Soon enough, there they were walking up the street together. Scarlett carried what appeared to be a heavy satchel. Perez slicked back his hair and adjusted the eye patch. At last, he heard noises in the room next to his. The time was near.
The black-haired whore knocked softly on his door and whispered, “Senor, ella esta aquí.”
He opened the door and slipped her some coins. “Muchas gracias.”
Perez’s trap was set. He was ready to show Scarlett how much of a man he was before killing her and taking the gold. He slipped quietly from his room and journeyed the several steps to the door of the room Scarlett was in. He was full of great anticipation.
He swung the door open. No knocking. He simply swept in. “Hola rojo.”
Scarlett was dumbfounded. She’d been trapped! Perez, the swarthy Mexican bandit with one eye and hardly any teeth, began to move toward her. He unbuckled his belt and started to drop his pants. He pointed to himself to show how ready he was.
In the next moment, Perez’s world fell apart. The explosion in that small space was almost ear-shattering. Perez doubled over in excruciating pain. Scarlett had blown his testicles clean away. She grabbed her satchel, stepped over the groveling Perez, and headed out the door. She walked headlong into none other than Luke.
“Going somewhere, Scarlett?” Luke looked at her and then beyond into the room where Perez lay in a pool of blood, writhing in agony. “Damn, Scarlett. You done him in.”
He grasped her arm and pulled her back into the room. He bent down to disarm Perez.
That’s when Scarlett clobbered him with the heavy satchel of gold coins. Luke fell on top of Perez, causing him to scream with pain, while Scarlett freed herself from Luke and ran out the door as fast as she could.
Luke got up. His head throbbed.
Perez was out cold. Luke staggered after Scarlett but it was too late.
Meanwhile, Perez was bleeding all over the floor and was unconscious. Luke half-picked him up and dragged him downstairs and out the front door. Perez’s horse was out front, so Luke threw him over the saddle like a sack of potatoes. The jail was just up the road. He’d take care of Perez and then look for Scarlett. She seemed to be having some regular success with escaping.
Luke carried Perez into the jail, past the sheriff, and deposited him in the first of two adjoining cells. “This man has a price on his head, Sheriff. He’s wanted in Corpus for murder.” That’s when he got a better look at the man seated at the sheriff’s desk.
The man had a shotgun pointed at Luke. “Mr. Texas Ranger, the cell over there is for you.” He waved the muzzle of the shotgun at the cell. “You can leave my friend Carlos where he is.”
Luke obeyed the man. It seemed that the barrio mayor might not have been such a friend as Luke had hoped. The cell door clanked behind him and was locked. By this time, Perez was starting to come around. He’d lost a lot of blood and was quite woozy in addition to the pain.
There was no way Perez was going to sit in a saddle. A wagon was brought around, and the man with the shotgun laid him in the back. They headed out of San Patricio as fast as the horses could pull the rickety old wagon.
***
About three hours later, the alcalde entered the jail. He looked around. “Donde esta el sheriff?” He acted as though he were oblivious to Perez’s escape. Slowly, he walked over and unlocked the cell.
Luke wasn’t sure how to act with the mayor. He didn’t want to judge. “Which way did Perez go?”
The mayor pointed north. That was the giveaway. Luke knew they went south toward Mexico. He gave serious thought to putting the mayor in one of the cells, but he might need him one day. He’d give him a pass today. At least Luke knew how far he could trust the man.
Now he had a dilemma. Both his quarries had escaped. The whore was headed north and the killer south. Which to pursue first? Luke gauged that Perez being wounded would slow him down. He didn’t have a big head start, and Luke could likely catch up within a day. Scarlett could be found easily enough, though getting the gold back was a major concern. She had a few folks’ life savings in that satchel.
He headed to the stage coach station. He entered and quickly saw her trying to blend in with one of the benches. She was anxiously waiting for the stage. Luke came up behind her and stuck the muzzle of one of his Colts at the back of her head. “Don’t move a muscle, Miss Scarlett. You’re under arrest.”
At that moment, the stage came barreling in to the station. It diverted Luke’s attention for a split second. Scarlett turned and swept Luke’s pistol aside and made a dash for the stage. She left the satchel behind. Escape was more important to her.
Luke regained his footing and peered into the satchel. It was filled with gold coins.
The stage didn’t stop long. It was behind schedule.
Luke grabbed the heavy satchel and headed for the door. He was in time to see the stage pull away with Scarlett waving good-bye. She had a few gold coins in her hand.
A voice inside his head told Luke to let her go. In her profession, she wasn’t likely to survive long. She’d murdered that man in the bank, but they could pin that on Cavendish. Now Luke was free to drop the gold at the bank in Corpus Christi on his way to chasing after Perez.
Luke waved back at the departing stage. He knew where to find her, and she knew it. He decided it likely as not gave Scarlett a safe feeling that someone cared, regardless of the reason why.
Luke couldn’t know it, but Scarlett at last breathed a sigh of relief as he faded into the distance. She’d set her hopes on Austin. She was still young and pretty, and she had enough gold to get a fresh start. Maybe she did have a chance for a new life.
Luke went back to his other problem. He knew Perez had been badly wounded. Riding in a wagon was going to make for slow travel and obvious trail sign. It seemed most likely the man would head for Mexico and take his chances with the law south of the Rio Grande.
He hung the satchel of gold from the saddle horn. The added weight didn’t bother the big grey a bit.
Luke was tempted to stop at Elisa’s place, which was along the way to Corpus. He was sorting out his feelings about her, and she was very much on his mind. But no, he decided, it was his respons
ibility to get the gold delivered first. It would take extra time, but he was in no hurry to get back on Perez’s trail. He’d be moving twice as fast as the outlaw.
Luke rode all day. He bypassed Nuecestown proper as he didn’t want to delay his travel there talking with Bernice or Doc.
***
Whelan was despondent. He’d failed big time. His vice had been costly. Citizens of Corpus Christi had trusted the bank with their savings. It wasn’t Whelan’s job to protect against robbery, but he was entrusted with the responsibility to recover the stolen gold. He wished he could have stopped the robbery before it happened. Fate had conspired to burden one man with the occurrence of simultaneous crimes.
He considered resigning. Only Luke knew the truth of what happened in Nuecestown, and he was not going to tell anyone. But that wasn’t enough. Whelan’s shame was lodged deep in his gut. He knew, and that was what mattered.
He also knew Colonel Kinney was heading back from Austin. Whelan could resign then. Except for his peccadillos, his indiscretions with the ladies, he was an upright, fully reliable lawman. He’d been sheriff for better than five years, the longest he’d held a job. Kinney might very well refuse his resignation. What then?
Instead of his usual evening ritual of walking up the street to the saloon and finding companionship, he sacked out by himself on one of the cell cots. He didn’t even tap the unopened whiskey bottle. He yearned to escape from his misery. He thought about Elisa. He’d started that out all wrong. Maybe she’d let bygones be bygones and give him another chance. Shoot, he might even give up his whoring for a woman like her.
He resolved to ride out in the morning and see how she was doing. Maybe he’d bring her some flowers to pretty up the place. On second thought, he figured the flowers might be taken the wrong way. Nope, he’d just drop by friendly-like. He began to get drowsy and soon fell asleep. Emotion had the effect of wearing some folks out.
TWENTY-ONE
Road to Purgatory
The bank manager was overjoyed to see Luke walk into the bank with the satchel. “Captain Dunn, I am so glad to see you. Have you recovered the gold?”
“We got most of it.” Luke handed the satchel to the manager. “The girl made off with a few coins and likely spent a couple on niceties.” He glanced through the window at the sheriff’s office. “I expect that Sheriff Whelan brought some of it to you.”
“Yes, he did, Captain Dunn. But this appears to be most of the rest. We’ll have to count it to be sure.”
“Is the sheriff in town?”
“I didn’t notice him leave his office. He may still be there.”
The manager took the bag to his office. “Oh, Captain, I believe Sheriff Whelan notified the folks in Austin about the reward for that Cavendish fella. I heard that you wanted to give that money to Miss Corrigan.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, folks think that was a right nice thing to do, Captain, what with losing her parents and brother. She is certainly a sweet but determined young lady.”
“Thanks. It’ll be good to see her be successful with her farm.”
“Can I ask something personal, Captain?” the man paused.
“Don’t ask, if you have to ask to ask.” Luke smiled as he said it. He knew the question. Why were there gossips seemingly everywhere?
Luke strolled across the street and knocked on the sheriff’s door. He opened the door and peeked inside. He could hear snoring and figured there was no point in waking Whelan.
***
The wagon offered a rough ride, but was far preferable to the saddle. It’d be a bit before Perez would be fit to ride. He’d gotten intimately acquainted the night before with the man who’d helped him escape. The guy cleaned and bandaged Perez’s wounds. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Relieving himself had already proven to be pure hell. It wouldn’t just be horse riding that he’d miss. Now whores would be safe from Carlos Perez.
“Como se llamo?” He realized he didn’t know his savior’s name.
“Me llamo Jorge. Jorge Valdez.”
The name sounded familiar to Perez, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Por qué me salvaste?”
Valdez explained it was a long story that he’d tell Perez during their journey.
“A donde vamos?”
“Carrizo, señor.” Carrizo was a little village on the Texas side of the Rio Grande where the river was shallow enough to cross on horses or in a wagon. The downside was that it was nearly a hundred fifty miles from San Patricio. They’d be making roughly fifteen miles a day. Perez’s condition would likely worsen. If infection could be avoided, he might have a chance to survive.
There was still something about Valdez that was familiar to Perez. He couldn’t quite place the man. In any case, he was in so much pain that he decided he’d worry about it later. He thought about his foiled plans to get the Texas Ranger and how he’d underestimated Scarlett. Vengeance was still on his mind. He wasn’t exactly feasting on the fruits of his revenge. Thus far, it has been a very sparse meal.
They stopped to rest for the night. The trip through the prairie was especially tiring on the horses. The wagon alone was a heavy load, pulling through heavy grass and in and out of arroyos. They kept an eye out for the weather. Perez didn’t feature being the victim of a storm again with its flooded creek beds.
Valdez helped him from the wagon.
Perez’s pain was excruciating. If his wounds got infected, he’d be in far deeper trouble. “Es un doctor en Carrizo?”
“No, pero hay uns mujer que puede ayudar.”
Just what Perez needed: a woman.
“Ella es Apache medicina mujer.”
The thought of some witch doctor playing with his very tender privates raced through Perez’s mind. But what choice did he have? He hoped that he’d make it to Carrizo with what he had left intact. He sensed that Valdez was almost taking some pleasure in this.
As he’d promised soon after rescuing Perez, Valdez had shared with the bandit how his uncle was one of Perez’s Caballeros Negros. He’d been visiting in San Patricio when he heard of Perez’s plight and felt inspired to rescue him.
Perez once again suffered the indignity of Valdez changing the dressing. It wasn’t looking good. The wounds hadn’t gotten infected just yet, but they looked ugly just the same. Perez desperately needed help. He felt as though he were on a road to hell, to certain purgatory. Perhaps, this was punishment, his very own purgatory. The punishment Scarlett delivered had certainly fit the crime.
***
Three Toes decided he was called by the Great Spirit to track down his friend, Captain Dunn. He followed the Atascosa River that eventually spilled into the Nueces. He took his time. He’d actually lost track of how far he’d traveled since the encounter with Perez near Elisa’s ranch.
He spent part of each evening meditating, giving his prayers for guidance to the Great Spirit. Three Toes had been seeking and was finding his vision quest, a supernatural mission assigned from the Great Spirit to strong Comanche warriors. He sensed that Luke would once again need his help.
***
Elisa awoke early. It was a warm sunny day, and she thought she might seize the opportunity to bathe in the creek. The rains had formed deep pools of clear water. It would be a luxury.
Mike was still asleep. He had a habit of sleeping late. So far as Elisa was concerned, that was a good habit for this day. She walked on down to the place where she washed clothes and turned a few yards upstream to the waiting pool. Stripping off her clothes, she laid them neatly on the rocks, placing the Colt carefully under the folds of her skirt. She tested the water with her toes. It was just cool enough to be refreshing. She immersed herself, lying back in the cool water. She once heard her mother refer to these pools as cups for God’s tears.
She rolled over, then stood and washed her hair. She hummed a tune, then realized it was an Irish lullaby her mother had sung. When her hair was clean, she sank back in the depths of the pool to rinse it.
&nb
sp; Elisa felt a chill. She had a sense that something or someone was out there. Could someone be watching?
***
Whelan had regretted it the moment he spied her from upriver. He couldn’t help himself. He had to sneak closer to get a better view.
“My God,” he thought, “she’s gorgeous.” Her wet reddish blonde hair spread over her ivory skin made for a beauty beyond his wildest imaginings.
His horse took a drink and snorted. Whelan moved closer into his hiding place. Had he been discovered?
***
Elisa cocked her head and looked around. What was that noise? What was its source? She made her way over to where her clothes lay and lifted the Colt from under her skirt. She was still wet as she slipped her shirt and skirt on with one hand. Her clothes clung seductively to her wet body. They didn’t offer much improvement over being stark naked.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
Whelan had been made. What to do? His lusts had gotten him into a jam again. “It’s me…Sheriff Whelan.” His voice drifted down from upstream. It was far away but not far away enough. He’d seen too much.
“Get the hell out of here! Get out!” The vision of the Comanche warrior coursed through her. She’d always remember the look on the warrior’s face when he realized her bullet had torn out his heart and he was a dead man. “Come no closer.”
Whelan took a couple of steps closer until he was perhaps thirty feet from her. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Corrigan. I meant no offense. I was just traveling through and heard your humming.” His face wore a pleading expression, but his soul held dark intentions. What did he have to lose? He’d bungled his job as sheriff. He even liked that she was resisting.
“You shouldn’t be here, Sheriff. Now leave.” She tried to sound strong, yet she felt fully vulnerable.
He took a step or two nearer before he realized the Colt was aimed at him. She couldn’t miss at the distance, but would she shoot? Whelan dropped the horse’s reins and lifted his hands above his shoulders. “I…I’m sorry, Miss Corrigan.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Nueces Justice Page 18