by J. Roberts
“You’re a sweet man,” she said, “but having sex with you has another effect on me.”
“What’s that?”
“It makes me hungry. Breakfast?”
As they entered the café they saw Fred Dodge sitting alone at a table, drinking coffee and either waiting to order, or waiting for his order to be delivered to his table. He spotted them and waved them over.
“Do you mind?” Clint asked her.
“No, I like Fred,” she said, “but thank you for being a gentleman and asking.”
“Come and join me,” Dodge invited as they reached his table, “that is, if I wouldn’t be intruding on the two of you?”
“Not at all,” Clint said. “We’re here to eat.”
She sat down and smiled at Dodge.
“Good morning, Deputy.”
“Good morning, Miss Angel.”
A waitress came with a plate of steak and eggs for Dodge. It looked good, and Clint ordered the same for both himself and Angel.
“Any word?” Clint asked Dodge.
“Yeah, I’ve got word,” Dodge said. “Hatch can’t find him. Or won’t.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means somebody else has to go out and look for him.”
“Like who?”
“Charley Smith knows Barney Riggs and his wife,” Dodge said. “He thinks he knows how to find him.”
“So the two of you want to go out?”
“Maybe,” Dodge said, “the three of us?”
“With Hatch’s okay?”
“If Hatch won’t find Riggs, then maybe we shouldn’t tell him that we’re gonna do it,” Dodge said. “Charley’s got some time off comin’. He’s gonna ask for it, leave town, and then meet up with us.”
“Then what?”
“Then it’s up to Charley,” Dodge said. “We’ll just go along to back him up. It’s his play. When we make the catch, it’ll be his.”
“That’s fine with me,” Clint said.
Angel was eating while they talked, watching both of them intently.
“That looks good,” Clint said to her.
“It is,” she said. “You should stop talking and start eating.”
Dodge grinned at Clint.
“I think the little lady makes a good point,” Dodge said.
He and Clint dug in.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Clint met Dodge at the livery stable. They saddled their horses.
“Charley left earlier,” Dodge told Clint.
“Where did you tell Hatch you were going?” Clint asked.
“I told him I had some people to see in Bisbee,” Dodge said.
“People?”
“He doesn’t care,” Dodge said. “But I need to saddle Charley’s horse.”
“Charley? I thought he left earlier?”
“He did, by stage. We’ll have to meet up with him at Dragoon Summit.”
“Dragoon Summit? Where’s that?”
“The other side of the Riggs place. There’s a railroad stop there. That’s where Charley’s gonna meet us.”
“Then what?”
“He’s gonna take us to a spot not far from the Riggs place. We’ll have water and feed for the horses, and through field glasses we’ll be able to watch the Riggs house.”
“That’s Charley’s plan?” Clint asked. “Watch the house?”
“Watch the woman.”
“Riggs’s wife? I thought she hated him? Didn’t care if he was killed?”
“Or that’s what she wanted us to think.”
“So she was cheating on him, but she’ll help him escape capture for killing her lover?”
Dodge looked at Clint, shrugged, and said, “Women.”
It took them half the day to get to Dragoon Summit. They had to actually ride past the Riggs place to get to it—and they circled it so that they wouldn’t be seen.
When they got to Dragoon Summit, Charley Smith was already there. He was waiting for them on the train platform. When he saw them he stepped down and came forward to accept the reins of his horse from Dodge.
“Glad you’re here, Clint,” he said.
“Didn’t have anything more interesting to do,” Clint replied.
Charley mounted up and took the lead.
He led them to a clearing above and behind the Riggs place. As Dodge had said, the horses could stand and feed while they waited. As for the men, they had beef jerky, and plenty of water.
Dodge pulled his field glasses out of his saddlebags and trained them on the Riggs house.
“Nice and clear,” he said. “I’ll be able to see the hairs on his face.”
“What’s the story here, Charley?” Clint asked the deputy.
“I know Barney and Linda Riggs pretty well,” Charley said. “It don’t matter what they do to each other, they love each other. In fact, throw in the old man, the whole family’s close. Whatever happened, they’d try to help each other.”
“So you think the wife or the old man is going to meet up with Barney?”
“I’m bettin’ on it,” Charley said. “In fact, maybe Barney’ll just come home.”
Clint turned to Dodge, who was still looking down at the house.
“Hatch didn’t think to have someone watch the house?” he asked.
“No, he didn’t,” Dodge said. “There are a lot of things Hatch doesn’t think of.”
“Sounds to me like you were right,” Clint said.
“Right about what?” Charley asked.
“Sounds like Hatch doesn’t really want to find Barney Riggs.”
Dodge didn’t answer. Clint walked over and sat on a rock next to Charley Smith, who handed him a hunk of beef jerky.
“Thanks. So what do you think, Charley?” he asked, taking a bite.
“About what, exactly?” Charley replied. “The murder? I think Barney did it, all right. He was mighty jealous of Hudson.”
“Then why would he expect his wife to help him?” Clint asked.
“I told you. They’re close.”
“It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“The whole family is mighty close,” Charley said again. He stared directly at Clint. “She’s close to old Bannock Riggs, too. Understand?”
Clint stared at Charley.
“You mean—”
“That’s what I mean.”
“But . . . why?”
“Barney and old Bannock share everything.”
“Even the son’s wife?”
“Everything,” Charley said. “That’s the way they are.”
“So then, why is it so obvious that Barney killed Hudson?” Clint asked. “Why not the old man?”
“Because Bannock didn’t care about Linda that way,” Charley said.
“So Barney didn’t mind sharing her with his father, but not with anybody else.”
“Right.”
“And the old man, he’d share her with anyone?”
“Right again.”
“So he’d have no reason to kill Hudson.”
Charley nodded.
“And Barney would,” he said.
“She could have walked away with us that night,” Clint said. “Away from the old man. Why didn’t she?”
“That’s an easy one,” Charley said. “She didn’t want to.”
TWENTY-NINE
It was Clint’s turn at the glasses. He couldn’t understand women who stayed with men who were abusive to them. And sharing your wife with your father qualified as abuse, to him. Maybe the neighbor, Hudson, was nice to her, but if he was why would she want to help her husband get away with killing him?
He didn’t understand women, but maybe Charley Smith did.
Finally, in the afternoon, Mrs. Riggs—or “Mrs. Barney,” as Dodge called her—came out with a spyglass of her own. She put it to her eye and looked up at a hill that was opposite the position where Clint and his companions were. Clint moved his glasses to that hill and he saw a flash of light—a signal.
“We got h
im,” he said.
The others joined him.
“Where?” Dodge said.
“Up on that hill,” Clint said. “There was a flash of light to signal her.”
They all looked down at the house. Mrs. Barney had already gone back inside.
“Two choices,” Dodge said. “We can go over there now and look for him, or wait for her and follow her.”
“I say we follow her,” Charley said. “She’ll probably go and meet him after dark.”
Dodge looked at Clint.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Okay,” Dodge said, “so we keep takin’ turns watchin’ her. Maybe the old man will even go with her.”
“Any chance Riggs has somebody with him?” Clint asked.
“Can’t think who it would be,” Charley said. “Him and ol’ Bannock keep to themselves.”
“Okay,” Dodge said. “It’s gettin’ dark. We’ll keep a cold camp and watch.”
The others went back to their former position and Clint lifted the field glasses to his eyes again.
It wasn’t until just before sunset that light came from the open door of the house. In that light Clint saw Mrs. Barney Riggs come out of the house. She went to the barn and came out with a saddled horse. She walked back to the house and the door opened again. Old Man Bannock came out and handed her a bunch of supplies, which she tied to her saddle.
She mounted, then, and headed for that hill where Clint had seen the flash of light.
“Time to go!” Charley said. He had relieved Clint of the glasses a couple of hours before.
Their horses were still saddled so they only had to mount up and ride out, keeping the woman in sight.
They decided that Charley would track her alone, just in case she was able to hear their horses behind her. Clint and Dodge rode well behind Charley, tracking him rather than her.
As they approached the hill it became obvious that Mrs. Barney was heading right for the spot on the hill Clint had seen the flash of light. Charley rode back to Clint and Dodge to let them know.
“I know a place we can watch from,” he added. “We just have to circle, but we should be there before her.”
“Are you sure?” Dodge asked
“I’m sure, Fred,” Charley said.
“Okay,” Dodge said. “This is your catch. We’ll follow your lead.”
They followed Charley to a certain point where he called for them to dismount and leave their horses. They’d be traveling over rocks from this point on and the horses’ hooves would make too much noise.
They crept along, closer to where Charley wanted them to be, and when they got there they all got down on their chests and watched. Charley had been right on the money, for they were mere feet away from where Mrs. Barney Riggs was now waiting.
Like them, she had left her horse behind and advanced on foot. Before long, and as the sun started to go down, Barney Riggs appeared and approached her. The husband and wife did not embrace, but they fell into a rapid conversation they were not going to finish.
Charley got to his feet then and moved in on them. Clint and Dodge followed, but they were only backing him up.
“All right, Barney, throw your hands in the air, partner,” Charley Smith said, gun in hand.
Barney gave his wife a murderous look, as if he suspected her of leading the law there on purpose.
“Take it easy, Barney,” Charley said. “She didn’t know nothin’ about it. I just decided we should follow her.”
“Charley,” Barney said, “you wouldn’t shoot me, would you?”
“I’m wearin’ a badge, Barney,” Charley Smith said. “It’s my job to shoot you if you try to escape. And if I don’t do it, one of these fellas will.”
Barney looked past Charley at Dodge and Clint.
“Damn it, Charley, he deserved it—”
“Don’t admit to anythin’ we’ll have to swear to in court, Barney,” Dodge said, quickly. “Just come along quietly.”
Clint moved in, relieved Barney of a rifle and a six-shooter, and then took the six-shooter Linda Riggs was wearing.
“What were you going to do with this, ma’am?” Clint asked.
She just stared at him.
“I’ll take Mrs. Riggs to her horse,” Dodge offered.
“Fine,” Charley said. “Me and Clint’ll walk Barney to his. Come on, Barney.”
As they walked, Barney asked, “Who’s this fella, Charley?”
“This is a friend of Dodge’s, Clint Adams.”
Barney stopped and turned, gaping at Clint.
“You brung a gunman to kill me?” he asked. “The Gunsmith?”
“He’s the Gunsmith, but he ain’t here ta kill ya, ya blamed fool,” Charley said. “We’re takin’ ya back to stand trial.”
“For killin’ that skunk?” Barney demanded. “You know what he was doin’ with my wife?”
“Everybody knows, Barney.”
“What?” Riggs asked. “Then I’m a laughingstock? And you’re gonna take me back?”
“You shoulda thought of that before ya killed him,” Charley said.
“Are they gonna hang me?” he demanded.
“Probably,” Clint said.
“What?”
Clint shrugged.
“You probably would’ve had a better chance for mercy if you had killed your wife, Riggs,” Clint said.
THIRTY
Outside of Tombstone, Charley Smith called their progress to a halt.
“Mrs. Riggs, you can go on home and tell Ol’ Bannock what’s goin’ on.”
“I want to ride in—”
“You go on and git, now,” Charley told her. “No tellin’ what’ll happen when we ride in with Barney. Hudson had some friends in town.”
“Go on, Linda,” Riggs said. “Tell Pa. He’ll know what to do.”
She hesitated, then said, “All right.”
As she rode off, Dodge asked Barney, “What do you think Bannock’s gonna do, Barney?”
“I don’t know,” Barney said, “but Pa usually knows what to do.”
Bob Hatch was very happy when they rode into Tombstone with Barney Riggs. No matter who caught the man, Hatch’s office would take the credit for bringing Barney Riggs in for murder.
A few people followed their progress on foot to the jailhouse, but no one made a move on them as they walked Riggs into the jail.
One man took one look at them, turned and ran.
“Who was that?” Clint asked.
“One of the Hudson hands,” Dodge said. “I’m sure he’s ridin’ back to the ranch to tell ’em we got Barney.”
“What will they do?”
Dodge shrugged.
“Charley, you sonofabitch,” Hatch said, after Charley returned from the cell block. “How’d you know where he’d be?”
“I just played a hunch, Sheriff.”
“And you had to sneak out of town to do it?” Hatch asked. “You couldn’t take me along?”
“You play a hunch alone, Sheriff,” Charley said. “You know that.”
“You took Dodge and Adams along,” Hatch said, looking at the other two men, who were both sitting across from him.
“Well, sometimes ya need a friend or two along to back yer hunch.”
Charley was making it very clear that he didn’t consider Hatch a friend.
“Well,” Hatch said, “I guess it doesn’t matter. We got him.”
“Yes, sir,” Charley Smith said, “we got ’im.”
Dodge took Clint and Charley to his house for some whiskey.
“I wanna go and change my clothes,” he said.
Charley didn’t care to change, and Clint figured he’d do it later, at his hotel. Dodge seemed to want some company at his house.
He had a small place at the north end of town, just a shack, really. Clint noticed, as they entered, it was real clean.
Dodge got the bottle and three glasses and they sat at what looked like a home-made kitchen table, big enough for four people.
He poured three glasses, and they drank.
“What’s botherin’ ya, Fred?” Charley asked.
“I don’t think this is gonna end with Barney’s arrest,” he said.
“ ’Course it ain’t,” Charley said. “We got to get him to trial.”
“Hudson hands should be ridin’ in soon,” Dodge said. “And ol’ man Bannock may ride in with some of his outfit.”
“Think we got us a war brewin’?” Charley asked.
“Trouble, yeah,” Dodge said. “A war? Maybe.”
“What about Hatch?” Clint asked. “Does he realize what could happen?”
“I don’t know about Hatch,” Dodge said. “He sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to bring Barney in.”
“Maybe he was thinking about just this,” Clint said. “A possible clash of the outfits.”
“Well, he’s got it now,” Dodge said. “Mark Smith is our district attorney. He better work on gettin’ this trial put together quick.”
Clint finished his whiskey and rejected the offer of a second.
“I’m going back to my hotel to change my clothes, too,” he said. “See you later at the Bird Cage?”
“I’ll be there,” Dodge said.
Clint left, with Charley Smith in tow.
THIRTY-ONE
Wearing clean clothes and fresh from a pitcher-and-bowl bath, Clint was standing at the bar in the Bird Cage, drinking beer and eating free hardboiled eggs. He knew the eggs were salted, to make you drink more beer, but he didn’t care.
He had just bitten one in half when Dodge entered and joined him at the bar.
“Those are salted, ya know,” Dodge said.
“I don’t care,” Clint said.
“Yeah, me neither.” Dodge signaled the bartender for a cold beer.
“Where’s Charley?” Clint asked.
“I think he turned in early,” Dodge said. “Charley’s not so young, anymore.”
Clint laughed. “None of us are.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dodge said. “I still got plenty of time ahead of me. Plenty to do.”
“You’ve been doing this a long time,” Clint said.
“I know it.”