by Sharpe, Jon
“I couldn’t care less about him,” Dogood answered. “But Orville, now, is fit to be tied. His kin are scouring the entire county for your buckskin-clad Romeo.”
“And if they find him?”
“You might have noticed the violent streak that runs through the McWhertles. For the aggravation he’s caused them, I’m afraid they intend to bed him with the worms.”
Fargo stepped into the doorway. “They’re trying their damnedest,” he said.
Dogood started and took a step back. “You!” he blurted. “Here?”
“No. I’m back in town,” Fargo said.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Luck,” Fargo said, and motioned. “Suppose you untie her so we can get the hell out of here.”
“Whatever you want. Just don’t shoot.” Dogood squatted and set to work on the knots. “This might take a while. Clyde tied her good and tight.”
“Clyde is no longer with us,” Fargo said. He would have related more but a hard object was jammed against the back of his head and a gun hammer clicked.
“Surprise, surprise,” a woman said.
Dogood stopped prying and chuckled. “Thank you, my dear. Now we have both of them exactly where we want them.”
26
Fargo looked over his shoulder. She looked to be all of twenty, if that, with long black hair and brown eyes.
Most would describe her as “plain.” She wore a simple cotton dress of a style popular with farmers. Her eyes were twinkling and the hand that held a derringer pointed at his head was steady.
“Want me to shoot him, Charlie?”
“Not unless I say to or he gives us cause.”
The young woman looked disappointed. She kept the derringer pointed and coughed and sniffled.
Dogood grinned and came over and held out his hand to Fargo. “Your Colt, if you please, and even if you don’t, you buckskin-clad bumpkin.”
Fargo was debating if he could spin and shoot her before she shot him. Something warned him not to try.
“She’ll do it, you know,” Dogood said. “Clementine will do anything I ask her.”
Clementine giggled. “I surely will. Charlie only has to snap his fingers and I’ll put a hole in your head.”
“Killed before, have you?” Fargo stalled.
“Should I tell him, Charlie?” Clementine said.
“No,” Charlie said, and waggled his fingers. “I won’t ask you again, sir.”
Reluctantly, Fargo gave him the Colt.
“Move over by the doc, there,” Dogood said.
Not taking his eyes off Clementine, Fargo sidestepped to Belinda. “Guess I was careless.”
“How were you to know about her?” Belinda said. “I only learned of their attachment on the way out here.”
“Attachment?” Fargo said.
Dogood chortled and stood next to the young woman and put his arm around her shoulders. “Clementine, here, is sweet on me, as they say in these parts.”
“Powerful sweet,” Clementine confirmed, and coughed a few times. “Have been for, what, eight or nine years now.” She giggled. “My pa would have a fit if he knew. Which is why we keep it secret.”
“Who is your pa?” Fargo asked. Not that he cared. So long as he kept them talking they might make a mistake.
“Orville McWhertle.”
Suddenly Fargo gave a damn. He looked at the patent medicine man and then at Clementine. “You’re old enough to be her father yourself.”
“That I am,” Dogood acknowledged with pride. “Yet she adores me anyway.”
Clementine nodded. “It started when I went to see him for my female complaints. I was twelve and they’d just started and they hurt some.” She grinned. “Well, one thing led to another, and . . .” She beamed at her sweetheart, and sniffled.
“God, no,” Belinda said to Dogood. “You took advantage of a little girl?”
“She wasn’t so little,” Dogood said. “Fact is, she was big for her age.”
“That’s right,” Clementine said. “I was practically a woman.”
“It wasn’t as if I was out to seduce her,” Dogood said defensively. “It just sort of happened, and the next thing I knew, we were in love.”
“Do I hear violin music?” Fargo said.
“Mock us if you must,” Dogood said, giving Clementine a squeeze and kissing her on the cheek, “but ours is a love that will endure forever.”
“A man your age,” Belinda said. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You are the lowest of the low.”
“That’ll be enough out of you about him,” Clementine said, and coughed. “It’s your damn fault we’re still here.”
“I beg your pardon?” Belinda said.
“Him and me,” Clementine said, dabbing at her nose with her sleeve. “He promised to take me to New Orleans. We’d buy us a house and live like man and wife. But first he needs to save up money and he can’t save it as fast as we’d like with you takin’ his patients away like you done.”
“You do know he’s stringing you along?” Belinda said. “He’s just using that as an excuse.”
Dogood squeezed Clementine’s elbow. “Don’t listen to her, my dear. She’ll say anything to belittle me in your eyes.”
“I can’t wait for her to be out of the way,” Clementine said.
Fargo was pondering something else. “You sure your pa doesn’t know about the two of you?” he asked her.
Both of them looked uneasy and Clementine said, “What’s that to you?”
“How about your mother?”
Clementine took a step and pointed her derringer at Fargo’s head. “I’ve about had enough of you.”
“Hold on, my dear,” Dogood said. “We don’t want bullet holes in either of them, remember? It must appear to be an accident of their own devising.”
“I don’t like him talkin’ about my folks,” Clementine said. “You know how they are.”
To Fargo Dogood said, “Orville and Mabel would skin me alive if they knew. We’ve had to sneak around behind their backs all this time. Right now they think she is off with some of her cousins, searching for you.”
“Interesting,” Fargo said.
“You don’t fool me,” Dogood declared. “You’re thinking that if you tell Orville about us, he’ll turn on me and run me out of Coogan County, or worse.”
Fargo sensed a note of fear. “Worse would be my guess,” he said. “A lot worse.”
“Let me shoot him,” Clementine said. “I want her and him dead so much.”
“Patience,” Dogood replied. “Watch him while I fetch rope from my wagon. I’ll be right back.” He hastened out.
Fargo didn’t like how Clementine’s hand was twitching. “Easy on that trigger, girl.”
“Call me a girl one more time,” Clementine said. “I dare you.”
Belinda cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind my saying, you deserve better than Charlie Dogood.”
“I do mind,” Clementine said, sniffling. “The both of you hush up until he gets back.”
“I’ll hush if you’ll answer a question that’s not about you and him,” Fargo said.
“Go ahead and ask then.”
“How long have you been sick?”
“I ain’t sick. I got me a cold, is all.”
“How long have you had it?”
“I don’t know. A week or so, I reckon. What the hell does it matter?”
“Has Dogood given you anything for it?”
“You said one question,” Clementine said, and did more loud sniffling. “That makes three.”
“Has he?”
“I’ve taken some stuff, yes,” Clementine said. “Have been for a few days now.”
“How do you feel after you take it?”
Clementine began tapping her foot in anger, and coughed. “I’m commencin’ to not like you a whole lot. You’re a blamed nuisance, is what you are.”
“Do you break out in a sweat and your belly hurts for a while
?”
“I do get a little sweaty, yes, but—” Clementine cocked her head. “Say now. What’s this about?”
“Yes,” Belinda said. “What are you getting at?”
“Timmy Wilson had a cold, remember?” Fargo said.
“Yes. I remember he was coughing and his nose was running that time he tried to rob us.”
“Timmy did what, now?” Clementine said. She coughed some more.
“Why are their colds important?” Belinda asked.
“Old Man Sawyer had one too. He was so stuffed up he could hardly breathe.”
“How do you know that?”
“He told me,” Fargo said, and gave a short recital of his encounter. “He didn’t have rabies. He wasn’t bitten by anything that had it. It was the medicine he was taking.” He looked at Clementine. “The medicine your lover gave him.”
“You’re tryin’ to rile me.”
“It fits,” Fargo said. “Old Man Sawyer came down with something and Dogood sold him medicine. A few days after, Sawyer came down with fever and the shakes and started to foam at the mouth.”
“You’re lyin’.”
“Timmy Wilson came down with a bad cold and Dogood sold him the same medicine and a few days later Timmy ran amok in town.”
“Stop it,” Clementine said, and coughed.
“I bet Abigail was given the same medicine,” Fargo said. “And now you.”
“But I’m not foamin’ at the mouth,” Clementine said, and smirked. “So much for turnin’ me against Charlie.”
“You don’t start foaming right away. Sawyer said it took four or five days.”
“It won’t work,” Clementine told him.
“What could he be putting in his medicine?” Belinda wondered.
“You’re the sawbones. You tell me.”
Belinda wriggled onto her back, her worry transparent. “It could be any number of toxins. Either he doesn’t care or he’s unaware of the properties of his ingredients.”
“Stop talkin’ about Charlie like that,” Clementine said, and sniffled. “He cares for folks. He’d never poison ’em. And he sure as blazes wouldn’t poison me.”
“He cares about the money he makes,” Fargo said.
“That will be enough, goddamn it.” Clementine sniffled and pointed the derringer at Belinda instead. “Go ahead and talk Charlie down again and see if I don’t put lead between the doc’s pretty eyeballs. Just you see if I don’t.”
Fargo stayed quiet. He wasn’t about to tempt fate.
“That’s better,” Clementine said. “You’re finally showin’ some sense.”
Ignoring her, Belinda said to Fargo, “If what you’ve said is true, there’s no telling how many people he’s infected.”
“Stop it,” Clementine said.
“I knew it wasn’t rabies,” Belinda said. “It didn’t fit the symptoms.”
“It wasn’t Charlie,” Clementine declared, and coughed almost violently. Her forehead was slick with sweat and her cheeks were specked with tiny red dots.
“You don’t look well,” Belinda said. “You don’t look well at all.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“Trust me when I say I have your best interests at heart. I only want to help you.”
“Damn you to hell. You people don’t listen worth shucks.” Clementine swore and kicked Belinda in the gut.
Fargo raised a hand to push Clementine away and found himself looking down the barrel of her derringer.
“Give me an excuse.”
They stood like that until shoes thumped in the hall and Dogood returned carrying a coiled rope. He took one look and said, “What on earth is going on here, my dear?”
“Your sweetheart doesn’t like to hear the truth,” Fargo said.
“Has he been filling your head with lies about me?” Dogood asked her.
“Not you,” Fargo said. “Your medicine.”
“My nostrums do what I claim,” Dogood said. “I have glowing testimonials from people I’ve cured to prove it. In writing, I might add. I have them in my van.”
Clementine sniffled. “These two say you add stuff you shouldn’t to your cures. Poisons, like, and you might not even know it.” She swiped an arm at her nose. “Tell them, Charlie. Tell them you’d never do a thing like that.”
“I’d never poison anyone,” Dogood said.
“See?” Clementine said to Fargo and the doctor. “I told you. My man can tell you every ingredient he’s ever added to any medicine he sells.”
“Well, not every one,” Dogood said.
“How’s that again?”
“I like to experiment, my love. Sometimes I mix things in to see what they will do.”
Clementine looked at him—and a small trickle of drool leaked from the corner of her mouth.
27
Dogood didn’t notice. He was focused on Fargo and Belinda.
The rope was in his left hand; his right was on Fargo’s Colt, which was wedged under his belt. “I’m always looking to improve my cures,” he continued. “I’ll add more alcohol. Or more opium. Or use cocaine instead. Or herbs I hear the Indians use. Or mushrooms I find out in the woods.”
“Do you realize the risks you take?” Belinda asked in horror.
“Don’t you start,” Dogood said.
“All these years you’ve been playing with fire and now it has burned you,” Belinda said.
Fargo was the only one watching Clementine. Drool now trickled from both corners of her mouth and her face was twitching. “The medicine that you sold Old Man Sawyer and Timmy and Abigail for their colds,” he said. “What was in it?”
“A new and improved version of my cough elixir,” Dogood boasted.
“What was new about it?”
“A colleague told me about a variety of water celery the Osage Indians use. I just happened to find some so I dried the root and ground it into a powder and added it. That, and some mushrooms I came across.”
“Water celery?” Belinda said. “Are you sure you found the right kind? Some are part of the Apiaceae family.”
“The what?”
“Hemlock,” Belinda said. “My God. If you mixed that with certain types of mushrooms, there’s no telling what would happen.”
“You’re trying to blame me for Sawyer and Tim and Abby,” Dogood said. “But it won’t wash. I’ve sold the same elixir to others and none of them took to running around the countryside biting folks.”
“You sold some to Clementine, didn’t you?” Fargo said.
“Sell a cure to my sweetheart?” Dogood grinned. “I should say not. I gave her a bottle free. In fact, she finished off the first and I gave her a second.”
Belinda glanced at the girl, saying, “Clementine, have you noticed any unusual—” She stopped and gasped. “God in heaven.”
“What are you on about?” Dogood said, and looked over his shoulder. He gasped, took a step back, and bleated, “Oh, please, no, no, no.”
They had seen what Fargo already knew: Clementine McWhertle had undergone a transformation. White froth spilled from her lips, and her eyes, which were open again, were so bloodshot that the whites appeared red. Her face was still twitching and the muscles in her body were like taut wire. She seemed to have forgotten she was holding the derringer and her hand had dropped to her side.
“Clementine, dearest?” Dogood said. “Are you all right?”
Clementine hissed.
For a moment the tableau was frozen. Then Clementine crouched and let go of the derringer and hooked her fingers as if they were claws.
“Fight it, dear heart,” Dogood said. “Get hold of yourself.”
Baring her teeth, Clementine sprang at him.
So did Fargo. He grabbed for his Colt but Dogood shrieked and shoved him just as Clementine pounced. He screamed as she sheared her teeth into his neck.
“Skye, help me!” Belinda cried, struggling against her bonds.
Fargo didn’t hesitate. She was helpless there on the floo
r. Bending, he slid his hands under her arms and dragged her toward the door.
Dogood was screeching and trying to prevent Clementine from biting him again. “Kill her!” he wailed, blood streaming from his wound. “Kill her! Kill her!”
Clementine had hold of his hair and his shirt and was snapping her teeth.
Fargo vaulted Belinda out and slammed the door behind them. He lifted her and made for the stairs but changed his mind. A bedroom was down the hall to the left. Entering, he shut the door, carefully laid Belinda on the bed, and reached into his boot for the Arkansas toothpick. “I’ll have you free in a second.”
“Did you see?” Belinda said, aghast. “That fool! That wretched, ignorant fool.”
Fargo didn’t need to ask which one she was referring to. He cut the rope binding her wrists and bent and did the same to the rope around her ankles.
From down the hall came a scream of terror.
“She’s killing him,” Belinda said, rubbing her wrists. “We have to help.”
“He has it coming,” Fargo said.
“Who are we to judge?” Belinda tried to push by to reach the door.
“We go out there, she’ll attack us,” Fargo said.
“What would you suggest? We hide in here and hope she leaves? If she gets away she’ll attack others. I don’t know about you but I don’t want that on my conscience.” Belinda shook her head. “No, I’m a physician. I have to help Dogood whether I want to or not.”
“I’ll go first,” Fargo said.
The house had gone quiet. Quietly working the latch, he cracked the door enough to peer down the hall. It was empty. He couldn’t tell if the other bedroom door was open or closed. Easing out, he crept toward it.
Belinda was beside him, her hand on his wrist. “Do you hear anything?” she whispered.
“Quiet, damn it.” Fargo remembered how Timmy and Sawyer and Abigail had reacted to the slightest sounds.
The other door was shut. That meant Clementine was still in there.
Fargo put his ear to it. The silence baffled him. The afflicted were always hissing and couldn’t stand still for two seconds.
“What are you waiting for?” Belinda whispered.
Fargo gave her a sharp look and she silently mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” Gingerly working the latch, he firmed his grip on the toothpick and pushed the door in.