The Dark Sunrise

by Terrence McCauley

  Mackey saw Billy standing in front of the Hotel Helena. He was not standing on the boardwalk, but in the thoroughfare, next to his roan. Even from this distance, Mackey could see he did not look right. And the closer he got, the more he realized Billy did not look sick.

  He looked scared.

  Billy had never been scared in all the years they had ridden together.

  Mackey heeled Adair into a gallop and raced toward the hotel, bringing the Arabian up short before his deputy.

  Still in the saddle, he asked, “What’s wrong? Is it Katherine? Pappy?”

  Billy surprised him by grabbing Adair’s bridle and pulling her into the street. “Keep riding, Aaron. Just keep on going. Head back to the train station and I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Mackey looked at the hotel. “What’s wrong? Where are they? Where’s Katherine?”

  “They’re both fine,” Billy told him, “and I’ll explain everything then, I promise, but I’m begging you to keep riding.”

  Mackey had never seen his deputy like this before and knew, whatever the reason, it was inside that hotel. “What happened?”

  “Damn it, Aaron,” Billy snapped. “I’ve never asked you for anything before. I’ve never had a cross word with you in all these years, but I’m telling you there’s no good waiting for you in that hotel right now. Everyone’s fine and they’re going to stay fine if you just ride on for a bit and let me handle it. Please.”

  With Billy already holding on to Adair’s bridle, Mackey swung his leg over the saddle horn and dropped down the other side. He drew his Peacemaker from his belly holster and began walking up the steps of the Hotel Helena.

  “Stop, Aaron!” Billy called out. “It’s Rigg.”

  Mackey stopped halfway up the stairs. He had not heard that name in over five years. He would have been happy to go the rest of his life without hearing it.

  He had heard so much that day, he was not sure he had heard this right. “What?”

  “Nathan Rigg,” Billy repeated. “He’s in the lobby waiting for you, and he’s not alone. He’s been here a long time, too. Maybe a couple of weeks from what I’ve been told. I wanted to ride down to the jail and tell you, but I wanted to keep an eye on him. I sent Josh to tell you, but I think he got lost or something happened because he didn’t find you, did he?”

  But Mackey doubted Josh Sandborne had gotten lost. Taken captive was more like it. Especially with a man like Nathan Rigg in town.

  Billy tried one more time. “Katherine and Pappy are fine, Aaron. They’re inside waiting for you. Got a special lunch planned for you and everything. But go in the back way, Aaron. Please. Be with your family and let me handle Rigg.”

  But Mackey knew it was no one’s place to handle Rigg. It was his responsibility.

  And, as everyone in Helena kept telling him, he had neglected his responsibilities for too long already.

  With the Peacemaker at his side, Marshal Aaron Mackey walked up the steps of the Hotel Helena and walked inside. The front door was already open, and he did not bother to close it.

  “Well now, honey, would you look at that!” Major Nathan Rigg’s Virginia drawl filled the hotel lobby as he clapped from his spot on a plush red arm chair. “Aaron Joseph Mackey, as I live and breathe! I do declare, this is the best sight my sore eyes have seen in quite a while. And I hope you know I mean that with all possible sincerity, Aaron.”

  The late morning sun threw long rectangles of light across the lobby of the Hotel Helena. Mackey noticed the major’s blond hair had become a little lighter in the five years or so since he had last seen him, but his blue eyes were as piercing as ever.

  He had shaved off his chin-whiskers, but his moustache was fuller now. Longer, too, creeping down the sides of his mouth. He still cut an impressive and fashionable figure, even out of uniform. His black suit had probably been made by the same New York tailor who had made his uniforms when they had been in the army. For a gentleman of a proud Virginia family, Nathan Rigg had always sported a taste for northern comforts.

  And as elegant as he may look now, sitting on a plush red armchair in a hotel lobby, Mackey knew Nathan Rigg was also just about the deadliest, cruelest man Mackey had ever known.

  Mackey stopped about ten yards from him. “Morning, Major.” Mackey looked him over for guns. He was not wearing a holster, but that did not mean he was unarmed. There had always been much more to Nathan Rigg than anyone could see on the surface. “What brings you to Helena?”

  “It’s Colonel Rigg, actually,” Nathan corrected, “or at least it was before I left.”

  Mackey glanced around the lobby and saw four men trying hard not to be obvious about looking at him. They were undoubtedly Rigg’s men.

  “You left?” Mackey asked, “Or got thrown out? I heard different things.”

  “The years have dulled your senses some,” Rigg laughed. “You’re the one who got thrown out, remember? I know I can remember it as though it were yesterday. After all, I was at your court-martial.”

  “How could I forget?” Mackey gripped the Peacemaker at his side a little tighter. “You arranged it.”

  “And look at how much you’ve prospered since.” Rigg nodded at the Colt in Mackey’s hand. “You going to put that away?”

  “As soon as you leave.” He saw a fifth man leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs. He wagered there was probably a sixth man lurking around somewhere, maybe upstairs, too. Rigg was nothing if not careful, and he never came alone. “What are you doing in Helena, Nathan?”

  “Why, I do believe that’s the first time you’ve ever used my given name, Aaron. You’re getting quite familiar in your old age.”

  “Impatient, too. I asked you a question.”

  “One that I’ll be glad to answer as soon as you sit down.” He nodded at a wingback chair across from his own. “Looking up at you is most straining on my neck, especially with the sun in my eyes. I chose such a disadvantageous location so you would know I came bearing no ill will toward you in my heart.”

  “The six men you brought with you say something different.” Mackey sat but kept the Peacemaker on his lap. “Get to the point.”

  Rigg made a show of looking him over. “Yes, I must say you have certainly prospered since your cavalry days, Aaron. You hit a bit of a dry patch for a while as a common sheriff from what I heard, but I am glad to see you have finally found your level. The office of United States Marshal for the Montana Territory suits you much better. In fact, it’s your new position that has brought us together here this very fine day.”

  Mackey sat quietly, waiting for his answer.

  “You’re not the only one who has prospered since his days in service to the nation, you know. Why, my military reputation has followed me into civilian life, where I have enjoyed a lucrative career as a special consultant to those who can afford my services.”

  “Special consultant,” Mackey repeated. “That one of the new words they call butchers these days?”

  Rigg did not flinch at the mention of the nickname he had acquired in the cavalry. He examined the sharp crease in his pants leg instead. “As a matter of fact, discretion is my calling card. I’m at my most successful when people have no idea I’ve had a hand in things at all.”

  The same headache Mackey had suffered in the judge’s chambers was beginning to return with a vengeance. He’d had his fill of double-talk and empty speech for the day, but he did not dare let Rigg know he was getting to him. So, he asked the question he already knew the answer to. “Who are you working for now?”

  Rigg looked up from the crease in his pants leg. “I am employed by several people throughout the country at the moment, but my employer here in the Montana Territory is none other than Mr. James Grant.”

  Mackey had known it the moment Billy had told him Nathan Rigg was there. It was impossible that his former commanding officer just happened to be in Helena at the same time he had brought James Grant to trial. Considering Mad Nellie’s threat back at the
cemetery, it all suddenly made perfect sense.

  That did not make Mackey like it any better. “And what kind of work are you doing for Grant?”

  “Why, freeing him from his present predicament of incarceration,” Rigg told him. “In short, helping him obtain his release and regaining his freedom.”

  Mackey moved his finger flat on the Peacemaker, just above the trigger guard. “Jailbreaking part of your line of work now?”

  “Oh, I doubt it will come to that,” Rigg said. “We shall employ all legal means at our disposal first. That’s why I’ve retained the counsel of J. D. Rhoades to help get my client’s case thrown out of court. You remember old J.D., don’t you? You should. He represented you at your court-martial. Did an admirable job as I recall.” Then, that nasty grin. “Considering all of the evidence against you, that is.”

  “I remember J.D.,” Mackey told him. “But let’s move past that. What’ll you do when Grant swings?”

  Rigg’s eyes flicked down to the Colt on Mackey’s leg, then up to Mackey. “Then I’ll try all means necessary to secure his release. It’s what I’m paid to do, Aaron.”

  Rigg suppressed a yawn and rolled his neck, as though he was suddenly bored by the conversation. “But I don’t think it’ll come to that.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

  Rigg flinched when a fifty-caliber bullet tore through the chair cushion less than an inch from his left shoulder.

  The women in the hotel lobby screamed. The men with them rose from where they sat and spirited them out of the lobby.

  All of Rigg’s men stood and drew their weapons, aiming them at Mackey.

  Mackey kept his Peacemaker on his lap.

  Rigg pitched to his left and took a close look at the smoldering hole in his chair. “Unless I miss my guess, I believe that looks like a fifty-caliber round.”

  “It certainly does.”

  “And that report sounded an awful lot like a Sharps rifle.”

  “That’s because it was.”

  His examination of the hole finished, Rigg sat back and crossed his legs once more. “In all of my travels, I’ve only encountered two men so proficient with a Sharps rifle. I’m one of them. The second is that colored sergeant I seem to remember you took on as your dresser upon your promotion to captain.”

  “His name is Billy Sunday,” Mackey told him. “And he was my sergeant, never my dresser. Now he’s a deputy United States Marshal and it looks like he’s got that Sharps aimed right at your head.”

  “An American success story,” Rigg laughed. “He’s like a dog. Still loyal to his master after all these years.”

  Mackey looked at the hole only an inch from Rigg’s arm. “Still a hell of a shot, too. Good thing he didn’t hear you say that, or his next shot would be two inches to the left and your consulting days would be over.”

  Rigg gestured back at the five men behind him. “As would your marshaling days only a few seconds later.”

  Mackey twisted his wrist and aimed the Colt at Rigg’s belly. “Let’s find out.”

  Rigg uncrossed his legs and placed his hands flat on his lap. “I’m afraid all of this is getting out of hand, Aaron. Let us take a moment’s pause to gather ourselves before someone gets hurt.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Mackey thumbed back the hammer on the Peacemaker. “So why don’t you boys gather yourselves right out of Helena while you still can?”

  Rigg pinched the lapels of his coat and pulled them apart so Mackey could see he was unarmed. “Although I don’t have a weapon, my associates do. I know you’ve gained great fame by riding into hopeless situations and coming out alive on the other side. But these men aren’t the nomadic savages we hunted in Arizona, and they have you dead to rights.”

  “And Billy’s got his Sharps aimed at one of their heads.” Mackey would not take his eyes off Rigg. Just because he could not see a gun on the man, did not mean he could not have hidden one in his vest or somewhere else. A lot of men had met their eternal rest by confusing the elegant Nathan Rigg for being a pushover. “Can’t say which one it is, but it’s one of them. You might be comfortable with five-to-one odds, but are they?”

  “Make that four to one.” Brendan “Pappy” Mackey’s familiar brogue filled the hotel lobby. Mackey saw his father had a pistol aimed at the back of the head of one of the gunmen at the far left of the lobby. “This boy’s next move will be his last.”

  Mackey knew his father was supposed to be guarding Katherine but was glad he was there. Rigg might not know how important she was to him. “Tell your men to lower their weapons, and we can talk about how everyone gets to walk out of here today.”

  Rigg cocked an eyebrow. “But your man shot first.”

  “Call it negotiating from a position of strength,” Mackey said. “Just like they taught us at the Point.”

  Rigg smiled. “Well played, sir. Well played.” He motioned for his men to lower their weapons, which they did.

  Mackey did not, and neither did Pappy.

  Rigg said, “How about you boys go back to your rooms and let the good marshal and I continue our discussion in private? I’ll send for you later if I need you.”

  “They stay right where they are,” Mackey said, “until you release Joshua Sandborne.”

  Rigg held up his hands. “What makes you think I know where the young man is?”

  “Because he’s missing,” Mackey said. “And no one said anything about him being young. Where is he?”

  Rigg’s blue eyes narrowed. “You’ve gotten much sharper, haven’t you, Aaron? You were always such a blunt instrument before. A cudgel that knocked down anything in its way. Now, you’re like a finely honed blade equally suited for either stabbing or surgery.” He touched his brow. “My compliments.”

  Mackey raised the Peacemaker and aimed it directly at Rigg’s head. “Release Sandborne. Now.”

  “I don’t have him,” Rigg admitted. “A couple of my men grabbed him before he reached the jail and worked him over a bit. They left him in a livery just off Broadway. A couple of bumps and bruises, but otherwise, he’s fine. And will remain that way as long as me and my men are allowed to leave unharmed.”

  “He’d better be,” Mackey said, “because if he’s not, you and I are going to continue this conversation real soon.”

  “We’ll be continuing it soon enough, one way or the other.” Rigg surprised him by quickly uncrossing his legs and getting to his feet despite Mackey having him covered.

  “Now, while I have thoroughly enjoyed our reunion, I’m afraid my associates and I have other business to attend to at the jail. Mister Grant is expecting me to pay him a visit. And you have a rather pleasant luncheon waiting for you prepared by your beautiful fiancée, Mrs. Katherine Campbell. She’s quite a woman, Aaron. You’ve outdone yourself, old chum.”

  He picked up his flat-brimmed hat and placed it on his head at a rakish tilt. “I’ll be seeing you real soon, Aaron.” He glanced at the front door. “Think it might be best if we head on out the back. Your boy is less likely to be covering that angle with his Sharps.”

  “Wonderful thing about a Sharps.” Mackey tracked him with the Colt as he moved toward the back of the lobby. “Gives a man plenty of options.”

  Rigg touched the brim of his hat as he trailed his men out back. “Aaron.”

  Mackey kept his gun trained on Rigg’s belly. “Nathan.”

  He only stood when they were gone and the back door shut behind them. He uncocked his Colt and went to his father. “Where’s Katherine?”

  “One of Lynch’s boys is with her,” Pappy said. “He wanted to come outside when they heard the gunshot, but I told them to stay with her. She’s mighty upset, Aaron. Who was that man, anyway?”

  Mackey watched the hallway to the back door as if his old enemy might walk back through it at any moment. “Nathan Rigg.” He holstered his pistol. “Colonel Nathan Rigg.”

  “You knew him from the army?”

  “He was a major back then,” Mackey said. “M
y commanding officer. My last commanding officer before—”

  Billy rushed into the lobby, his Sharps in hand. “Saw them trail out the back and head up Broadway. He tell you where Josh is?”

  “Livery off Broadway. Ride over there and see for yourself, but be careful. Rigg and his bunch could be waiting for you when you get there.”

  “I’ll be ready for them.” Billy looked at him curiously. “You’re coming, too, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Mackey began walking toward the bar. “You go on ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  Pappy and Billy traded concerned looks as they trailed after him into the bar.

  Pappy said, “Katherine’ll be glad to see you, boy. Poor soul’s been lost without you the whole time we’ve been here. I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Go see Katherine,” Billy rushed to catch up with him. “Everything else can wait, especially the bottle.”

  “Not everything, especially the bottle.” Mackey found a spot at the crowded bar and signaled for the bartender. The old hunger had been sparked deep inside him by seeing Nathan Rigg and the memories it brought back. The painful shame he had endured at the hands of that loathsome son of a bitch. The weapons of his own destruction he had placed in his hand. “Some things have been put off far too long already.”

  “Not the bottle, Aaron.” Pappy forced his way next to his son, ignoring the curses he received from a drover he had pushed out of the way. The star on Billy’s duster and the Sharps in his hand kept the man from doing more than grumbling. “Not whiskey. Not after you’ve been good for so long. There’s not enough time left in the world for that to wait where you’re concerned.”

  Mackey dug out a gold eagle from his pocket and slapped it on the bar. “Bottle of whiskey and a round on the house for me.”

  The bartender looked at the coin as though it was manna from heaven. “Who’s buying, mister?”

  “It’s not mister. It’s United States Marshal Aaron Mackey. The Hero of Adobe Flats and the Savior of Dover Station.”

  Murmurs among the patrons carried his name the length of the long bar in about a second. A man standing next to Mackey reached over and pushed the coin back toward Mackey. “Your money’s no good here, Marshal. It’ll be my honor to buy you a drink. Give the man a bottle. Put it on my tab.”