Trouble at the Redstone (Leisure Western)

by John D. Nesbitt

  “Just that, to say hello?”

  “I thought that if you didn’t mind, you could tell me what things looked like when you found him.”

  Stegman’s face showed a look of true displeasure now. “I found him dead, facedown, out in back of his building.”

  “Shot?”

  “In the back. The bullet went right where the suspenders cross.”

  “And there were no witnesses?”

  Stegman raised his chin and stared at Will with his yellow-brown eyes. “Look, mister. I don’t know what you think you stand to gain by puttin’ your nose in things.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you. There’s a couple of dirty things been done, and I think I’ve got a hunch who did ’em. But I don’t know what the connection is, if there is one, and I figure anything I can find out will help.”

  “Help do what?”

  “Bring things out in the open.”

  Stegman looked at the ground, tapped once with his walking stick, and raised his head. “I’ll tell you what I told the sheriff. I don’t know if he’s told anyone else, and I don’t know how much good it would do for you to repeat it. But that’s up to you.”

  “All right.”

  “There was a sheepherder claims he saw who did it. He was comin’ in over a hill from the north, and he thought he saw somethin’ that didn’t look right. So he hunkered down, and heard the shot, and then he saw the man ride away.”

  “And you know this sheepherder from before?”

  Stegman gave what Will took for a modest shrug. “I’m a sheepman, so I know some of the others and their herders.”

  A sheepman. Most of the men Will knew of who called themselves or were called sheepmen had herds into the hundreds or thousands. But that was a small matter. “So how did you happen to talk to him?”

  “He stayed hidden out there until I came along. Since he knew me, he came in and told me what he’d seen.”

  “And then?”

  “He went back to his camp, way the hell out on the sheep ranges where his own boss would have a hard time findin’ him.”

  “I see. But you know his name. You gave that to the sheriff?”

  “Yes, I did. That’s probably the one part I won’t repeat to you.”

  “That’s all right. Knowing there’s a witness is probably good enough for me for right now.”

  Stegman’s tenseness faded as his shoulders relaxed. “That’s about it.”

  “Maybe one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Did this sheepherder say what the killer looked like?”

  “Not to me, but he said he got a look at him.”

  “That’s not much to go on. Do you think he’d recognize him again?”

  “I would guess so.” After a pause, Stegman added, “Is that it, then?”

  “Well, on that part, I suppose so. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about something you mentioned the other day.”

  Stegman slowly shook his head. “I don’t know what that would be.”

  “You said Donovan was pushing you.”

  “Actually, I think Dunn said that.”

  “I guess he did, but you added to it. You said you knew what kind of men worked for him and it was time to move on.”

  Stegman raised his free hand and waved it. “I might have said something like that. It doesn’t matter much.”

  “Oh, don’t think I take it personally. Quite the opposite. What I’m interested in is what you know, or have heard, about Donovan’s motives for acquiring more land.”

  “I know he seems to be pretty bent on it.”

  “Let me put it more directly. Have you heard of this plan he’s supposed to be working on, to gather up land for some outside investors?”

  “I’ve heard of it, but I think it’s bunk.” Stegman sniffed. “I think he’s just tryin’ to buy up land cheap so he can control big portions.”

  Will narrowed his gaze. “Do you have an idea what for?”

  After a pause, Stegman said, “Accordin’ to Dunn, it was for oil. I don’t know if he told you any of that.”

  “He told me about oil, but he didn’t tell me that was what Donovan was up to. I sort of put it together, though.”

  “He was sure Donovan wanted his place, and he said if he came around, he’d tell him to go piss up a rope.”

  Will smiled. “I can hear him saying that.”

  “So can I. And judgin’ from what happened, it looks as if Dunn was right, though it doesn’t do him any good now.”

  “Sure doesn’t.” After a few seconds of thought, Will spoke again. “Did Donovan come by here in person?”

  “Yes, he did. But not by himself.”

  “That’s what I figured. Did he have his foreman with him?”

  “Not Ingram. I know him. He had two others. One of ’em was your friend and mine, Max Aden, and the other was a fellow I didn’t recognize.”

  “Oh, really? What did he look like?”

  Stegman shrugged. “Oh, he was a normal-lookin’ man, as far as that goes. About your age or a little older. Average size, average build. A hard-looking one, though. He packed a gun, and he had a rifle on his horse, too.”

  “Any beard or mustache?”

  “Not that I remember.” Stegman shook his head again.

  “Did he say anything?”

  “No, Donovan did the talking. He’d already made me an offer before, when I saw him in town. I told him I wasn’t interested. Then he sent me a letter and made the offer again. I didn’t answer. A month or so later he came by with these other two.”

  “Did he threaten you?”

  “He pretended not to. He told me this wasn’t a safe place to live without protection, and he acted as if it was a friendly warning.”

  “He didn’t offer to let you contribute to the protection?”

  Stegman shook his head. “Not to me. I heard that was something he did earlier, before I came here.”

  “So this was a different message.”

  “Entirely.”

  “And how long ago was this?”

  “Oh, about two weeks—no, maybe a little more. It was just before that kid got killed.”

  “But you’ve decided to go?”

  “I can see the writing on the wall. I hear he’s been goin’ around, closin’ deals here and there. It’s as if he’s got a deadline or he’s tryin’ to beat someone else to it.”

  “And you’ve told him?”

  “I sent him a letter after I was at Dunn’s on Monday.”

  Will thought for a second. “You don’t know if he made an offer to Dunn, though.”

  “No, I don’t, but I know what Dunn would have told him.”

  “Well, who knows if he got the chance.”

  Stegman’s face had turned hard again. “I’ll tell you, it’s a dirty way to do things. And I bet it’ll be like that kid. No one’ll do a damn thing.”

  “I hope somethin’ gets done. Did you know that kid at all?”

  The downer face turned down even further. “Yeah,I knew him. He came by here just like you’re doin’. More than once. We talked.”

  Will narrowed his eyes. “Was he lookin’ for someone?” He stopped short of mentioning a name.

  “Not exactly. Someone else was, and he was interested.”

  “Oh, really? How did that go?”

  Stegman turned his head, gave his sheep a looking-over, and turned back. “You know, he was sweet on that Indian girl that works in the kitchen.”

  “I’ve come to understand that.”

  “And he didn’t trust the way your boss acted around her.”

  “I wouldn’t blame him.”

  “Then he talked to someone, I don’t know who, but it was some man who came around and asked questions about another kitchen girl who disappeared a couple of years ago.”

  “Before he came here?”

  “I believe so. Anyway, he was interested. If your boss had anything to do with this other girl disappearing, then this kid wanted
to get the Indian girl out of there before anything happened to her.”

  “Uh-huh. And who was the man who was looking for this girl who vanished?”

  “I don’t know. It was someone who worked his way in for a little while and then left. Ben just called him ‘the little fella,’ and when roundup was done, the little fella went down the road. Said he’d be back in the fall.”

  “Maybe he will be. If I’m still here, I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to be.” Stegman hesitated, as if he had something to say, but he asked, “Is there anything else?”

  “One thing. Have you ever heard of a man named Al Vetch?”

  Stegman shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “And Ben Forrester never mentioned the name?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “I wouldn’t think so, but I thought I’d ask.”

  “Who is he, anyway?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve got my hunches. I don’t think he’s Ben’s little fella, though, and I don’t think he’s the sheepherder at Dunn Station.”

  “Oh, no. That sheepherder’s got a hard name to pronounce.”

  Will looked down at the dog, which had been sitting in its master’s shadow all this time. From there he cast a glance over the sheep, which were all grazing in the same direction, due south.

  “Well,” he said, “I wish you all the best. I’d better get back to my work.”

  “Same to you.”

  Stegman did not release his right hand from his walking stick, so Will saw again that they were not going to shake hands. He turned his horse, set his reins, and mounted up. Without looking back, he took off for his own range.

  The gray horse had a smooth trot, so Will let him move at that pace for about a mile and then varied him from a trot to a lope to a walk. As they were going back the way they had just come, Will did not study the land very closely. He let his thoughts wander—now about Dunn, now about Ben Forrester, and now about oil. He wondered where in this empty land a man would drill for oil, and he wondered how a man would know where to try. He reasoned that oil must be like water, and that not every pool had an outlet on the surface.

  Will had just loped up a rise, made his horse walk down the gravelly slope on the other side, and was trotting out through the mouth of a dry wash when an object startled him back to the here and now. Right past a low bluff of ancient packed mud, Max Aden sat waiting on the speckled white horse.

  The rider was dressed as usual in his large-brimmed hat, neckerchief, denim jacket, chaps, and gun belt. He held his reins in his left gloved hand, which rested overlapping the other on the pommel of his saddle.

  As Will reined up and stopped short, Aden called out, “A little ways off your range, aren’t you?” The hooked nose and deep-set eyes gave him the look of a hawk.

  “No more than you are.”

  “Always a smart one. What brings you so far this way?”

  “I wanted to see what was over the next hill. I’d ask you the same question except that I think I know the answer.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Spyin’ on me.”

  “Bah. You just don’t like it when someone sees you wanderin’ from your job. You didn’t think anyone saw you on Monday, but it came out all the same.”

  “I wasn’t at Dunn Station five minutes, for as much as it’s any of your business.”

  “Fillin’ your snoot with whiskey.”

  “I happened to be buyin’ tobacco.”

  Aden sneered. “Is that right? And what did you run out of today? Mutton?”

  Will took the sting. “You’ll think mutton. Yes, it so happens I was talkin’ to a man who runs sheep. And you might be interested to know about another fella who tends sheep.”

  “Dyin’ to hear.” Aden hunched forward and leaned on his gloved hands.

  “Seems there was a sheepherder saw who killed Orry Dunn. He’s back on his range now, somewhere out north, but when the sheriff asks him, he can give a description.”

  Aden lifted his head in an arrogant pose. “I don’t know why I should care. My presence is spoken for. I was off to the south with Brad Way. As far as that goes, you were a lot closer than that.”

  “I’ve got the same alibi you have. Out ridin’ with a partner.”

  “Except that you’ve got the habit of slippin’ off your range, and you’re so thick with Jim these days he’d cover for you.”

  “Oh, go on. I had no quarrel with Dunn, and you know it. And if you doubt my whereabouts, ask Jim. But you won’t, because you know he doesn’t lie, and you’d rather not know the truth.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “For one thing, you’d rather just insinuate. And for another, the truth isn’t your stock-in-trade.”

  Aden swung down from his saddle in a second. “Get off your horse, you son of a bitch,” he said. He peeled off his jacket, set it across the back of his saddle, then pulled off his gloves and set them on top.

  Will stayed seated, and he noticed Aden did not take off his hat or gun belt. That might mean he was trying to goad Will into a gunfight rather than a fist-fight. “What for?” Will asked.

  “So I can take you apart.”

  “Make it easier on yourself. Take off your hat, your chaps, and your gun belt. Then we’ll see who walks back to the ranch.” After a long moment of waiting, Will shifted his horse to close off Aden’s view. When he brought it around again Will had his pistol drawn. “Go ahead, if that’s what you had in mind.”

  The muddy eyes wavered. Aden had his right elbow cocked and his hand hovering above the butt of his pistol. “Piss on you,” he seethed. “I get down to fight you man to man, and you pull a gun on me.”

  “Fight man to man. You had a chance to do that, but you had no intention. That’s what I meant about you and the truth. You don’t have the stomach to do things fair.”

  Aden’s eyes burned with hatred now. “I knew you were trouble, and I told Earl when he hired you.”

  “Then tell him to fire me. Tell him where I went and what I heard. Tell him how you tried to pick a fight again. Tell him what ever you want. But don’t try to shoot me in the back as I ride away, or you might not get the chance to tell him anything.”

  “I’d much rather put the bullet through your teeth, so you can see me laughin’ at you.”

  “Wish in one hand,” said Will. He put the spurs to the gray horse, and with his pistol still in his hand he loped away. It took all of his self-control not to look back, and he was glad when he came to another rise to go over.

  Will found Calvert waiting at their appointed spot. The other man showed no signs of impatience or curiosity as Will dismounted and took a seat near him on the ground. Will took out the makin’s for a cigarette, and after a few seconds Calvert asked the usual question.

  “See anything?”

  “Some sheep.”

  “Really? Where was that?”

  “Over at Stegman’s place.”

  “Oh. Did you get to talk to him?”

  “Yes, I did. He’s not real talkative to begin with, but he came around a little.” Will shook tobacco into the paper trough. “He found Dunn, all right. He also found somethin’ else. Accordin’ to him, a sheepherder saw who did it. He went back to his range, but the sheriff has his name and ought to be able to get a description from him.”

  “That should help.”

  “Dunn had told Stegman about the oil, too, and it seems like that’s what Donovan’s up to—pretendin’ to buy up cheap grazin’ land but really tryin’ to put together a big tract of land for his own control. Stegman says he’s been pushin’ here lately to pick up some of the scattered pieces.” Will finished rolling the cigarette and licked the seam.

  “Who does he think did in Dunn?”

  “He didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.”

  “And he’s selling out, you said before.”

  Will smoothed the cigarette, stuck it in hi
s mouth, and lit it. “He is. He decided before Dunn got killed, but I’m sure he’s even more convinced now. And I don’t think it’s as much fear as just good sense.”

  “Well, that’s too bad.”

  “It is. And that’s a fair little place he’s got.”

  “If he didn’t have sheep.”

  “I think you have to have it in you to like sheep. I don’t.”

  “Neither do I. But sometimes I don’t like cattle, either, like when they kick you or smear shit all over you.”

  “Just doin’ what they know best.” Will took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke away on the light breeze. “I heard another interesting thing from this fella Stegman.”

  Calvert was scratching the inside of the bowl of his pipe with the nail of his little finger. “About sheep?”

  “No, not about sheep. About Ben Forrester.”

  Calvert looked up, serious now. “I guess he knew Ben.”

  Will nodded. “They got along. And Ben told him something curious. Seems there was a fella here durin’ roundup, someone Ben referred to as ‘the little fella,’ who acted like a hired hand but was lookin’ for information.”

  “I remember a little fella. He went by Bill Parnell, as I recall. Hell, that almost rhymed.”

  “Almost.”

  “He wasn’t much of a cowpuncher, but if he was here on an operation, I can understand why. Who was he workin’ for?”

  “I didn’t get that. But he was tryin’ to find out about a kitchen girl who disappeared a couple of years ago. Does that sound familiar?”

  Calvert shook his head. “That would have been before I came here.”

  “Before Ben, too. He was interested, though, because if something had happened to that girl, then he needed to look out for Pearl. I guess he thought Donovan might have it in him.”

  “Judgin’ from the way things have been goin’, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “Neither would I. And here’s another little thing. I got a chance to talk to Pearl the other evening, for just a couple of minutes, and she said Ben was worried but she didn’t know about what. I don’t know what else it would be, except what he’d heard.”