Righteous Kill

by G. Michael Hopf

  The door to the office opened and in came a man wearing a marshal’s badge. His name was Eric Hemsworth, and he was a Deputy United States Marshal.

  “What can I do for you, Marshal?” Mac asked, putting his feet on the floor.

  “I heard two men I’m after have been killed,” Hemsworth said. He removed his wide-brimmed hat and smoothed his jet-black hair.

  “Well, Marshal, we had two men killed just about an hour ago in The Panhandler Saloon,” Mac said. “It’s quite a coincidence you heard about that all the way in Coeur d’Alene.”

  Taking a seat in a chair in front of the sheriff’s desk, Hemsworth leaned back and replied, “I just happened to be in town ’cause I heard the Gundry brothers were seen around these parts. I went into that saloon you just mentioned and heard about the shooting, and now I’m here.”

  “Word is the men killed were Daryl and…”

  “And Mitch Gundry, right?” Hemsworth said.

  “Correct,” Mac said.

  Hemsworth reached into his overcoat and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and set it in front of Mac on his desk. “Both men were wanted for murder, armed robbery and rape. Like I said, I’ve been on their trail for weeks. They’re notorious and have killed two bounty hunters already.”

  Looking over the wanted poster, Mac smiled and said, “Is that so?”

  “Yep, they’ve proven to be quite difficult to track down,” Hemsworth said.

  The entire time the sheriff and marshal were talking, Billy stood glued to their conversation, his hands white-knuckling the bars.

  “Whoever killed those men must be a tough son of a bitch,” Hemsworth said.

  Mac’s grin widened as he glanced over at Billy.

  Catching the look, Hemsworth craned his head in Billy’s direction. “You?”

  “Yes, sir,” Billy said. “They raped my ma, so I went and shot them.”

  “I’m waiting to hear from his ma if that’s the case,” Mac said.

  “I can assure you, Sheriff, these men are capable, so I would say the boy’s claim is most likely credible,” Hemsworth said.

  “I told you, Sheriff,” Billy declared.

  “But if you’re holding him for a crime, he hasn’t committed one in the eyes of the federal government. In fact, you should put a medal on him,” Hemsworth said. “Those men were wanted in Idaho and Montana Territories.”

  “Well, Marshal, we follow due process here,” Mac said defensively.

  “Sheriff, those men were wanted dead or alive,” Hemsworth clarified. “I think you should let the boy go.”

  Mac clenched his teeth and pondered for a moment, then shot up from his desk, grabbed the keys, and walked over to the cell. He unlocked the door and opened it wide. “You’re free to go.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Billy said.

  Hemsworth got up, walked over, and extended his hand. “Marshal Hemsworth. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

  Billy shook Hemsworth’s hand and said, “Billy Connolly.”

  “Billy, have you ever killed a man before?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, by the looks of it, you’re damn good at it,” Hemsworth said.

  “I was just doing what I felt was right. I don’t allow quarter for no one who hurts innocent women or children, no, sir. My pa always taught me to stand up for what’s right and defend the weak.”

  “Your pa was a smart and wise man,” Hemsworth said. “Ever consider working for the marshal’s service?”

  “No, sir, never thought of it. To be honest, I’ve never heard of it until now.”

  Picking up on an accent, Hemsworth asked, “Where are you from?”

  “Ireland, sir.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Bill Connolly, when you become a United States citizen, you look me up. I’ll see about helping you out.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Billy said. “I’m working in the mines now. I hate it. I’d so love to become a marshal.”

  “Just remember, you need to get naturalized first, understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Billy said, nodding happily. Facing Mac, Billy asked, “Can I go now, Sheriff?”

  “You’re free, go,” Mac said, motioning with his arms for him to move out the door.

  “Oh, Sheriff, can I get my pistol back?” Billy asked.

  Mac nodded. He walked to a table. On it sat a chest; he unlocked it and removed the pistol in question. He handed it to Billy and said, “No more killing people in town, if you don’t mind.”

  “Unless they’re wanted,” Hemsworth quipped. “Wait, I almost forgot; you’re due a bounty.”

  “What’s that?” Billy asked.

  “Those men you killed were wanted and had a bounty on their heads, meaning there was a cash reward for killing them or bringing them in,” Hemsworth explained.

  Billy’s eyes widened. “Cash reward? How much?”

  “Five hundred for both. If you’re going to collect, you need to come to the US Marshal’s office in Coeur d’Alene to collect,” Hemsworth said.

  “How far is that?” Billy asked.

  “About a three days’ ride west,” Hemsworth replied. “You have a few months to collect; there’s no rush.”

  Nodding, Billy said, “Thank you, Marshal, and you too, Sheriff.”

  “If you see my deputy, tell him I said there was no need to talk with your ma,” Mac said.

  “Okay,” Billy said. He rushed from the office and into the faint light of dusk. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d gone from a terrified but determined boy bent on retribution for his mother, to a bounty hunter who had just secured his first bounty against two hardened outlaws. He stepped off the walkway and into the street, stopping when he heard a voice call out.

  “William Connolly,” Dolores yelped.

  Billy stared in the direction of his mother’s voice and saw a wagon coming his way. He waited for its arrival, to find Deputy Evans, his mother, sister and brother on board.

  Hearing the interaction from inside, Mac came out and said, “Deputy, the young lad is free to go.”

  Pulling the brake on the wagon, Evans said, “Very well, should I just ride them all back to their cabin?”

  Dolores jumped from the wagon and embraced Billy. She gave him a tight hug, then pulled back and slapped him across the face. “That was for disobeying me.” She looked over to Mac and said, “My son was only defending my honor.”

  “It’s fine, ma’am, we believe him,” Mac said.

  “He’s not in trouble?” Dolores asked.

  “No, ma’am, he’s not,” Mac replied.

  Hemsworth emerged from the office and asked, “Are you his mother?”

  “I am,” Dolores replied. “And who are you?”

  “Deputy US Marshal Hemsworth, ma’am, and I should say that your son is a brave man. A hero, he killed two notorious outlaws,” Hemsworth said.

  Dolores gave Billy an odd look and asked, “Hero?”

  “Ma, I made five hundred dollars for the family too,” Billy declared.

  “What’s this?” Dolores asked, surprised by the announcement.

  “It’s true, Mrs. Connolly. He just needs to go to Coeur d’Alene to collect,” Hemsworth agreed.

  “If this matter is over, can I take my family back home?” Dolores asked.

  “Yes, you can,” Mac answered.

  Billy helped his mother back into the wagon then jumped into the open back. As Evans turned the wagon around and headed in the direction of their cabin, Hemsworth cried out, “Don’t forget to collect your bounty, and remember to look me up.”

  “Look him up? What does that mean?” Dolores asked Billy.

  “It means I’m going to be a United States Marshal one day, Ma, that’s what it means,” Billy replied with a broad smile stretched across his face.

  CHAPTER ONE

  JULY 7, 1895

  OUTSKIRTS OF MISSOULA, MONTANA

  A strong wind whipped in from the northwest, portending the coming storm Billy knew was on
the way. Even the smell of the air told him rain was coming, and this time of year also could bring lightning. What he prayed didn’t occur was a forest fire from a strike if a thunderstorm rolled in. Since he’d become a Deputy US Marshal with the help of Marshal Hemsworth seven years before, he’d been witness to two fires, with one so large it destroyed a mining town east of Stumptown in northwestern Montana.

  Outside of the fear of a fire, Billy welcomed the storm because it would provide him the cover he’d need. He and Hemsworth had been staking out a remote cabin outside Bozeman with the hopes of arresting an outlaw by the name of Two-faced Bob. Bob was wanted in four states, including Montana, for murder and fraud. He had run a gambling operation in South Dakota, which had been legal until he ran into financial issues, and that was where everything went downhill for Bob. He had defrauded some investors whom he’d promised would be partners in a new gambling hall and saloon, but when his scheme was found out to be fraudulent, he’d murdered the investors and fled the state. He had been sighted in a saloon in Bozeman after he’d tried to acquire a gambling hall, but managed to flee before being arrested by local police.

  Hemsworth received word about Bob after he killed a marshal during a search of the Bozeman area. He and Billy had departed Idaho three weeks before and had managed to track Bob down to this remote cabin after much investigating and hunting.

  Bob was a dangerous man, that was not in doubt, but he didn’t seem to be a highly skilled killer, as he’d killed all of his victims by shooting them in the back. However, Billy and Hemsworth were not going to take any chances. Their plan was to allow the cover of night and the storm to hide their movements up to the cabin; then they’d burst through the door and arrest Bob in his sleep. As far as plans go, it was simple and clear cut, but after having worked the job for seven years now, Billy knew all plans never seemed to go as they should.

  As they waited for the sun to set, Hemsworth and Billy took up a watch position high in a rock outcropping that overlooked the cabin, which sat nestled in a gorge between three steep hillsides. The only way in and out was a narrow trail to the south, where they had a commanding view as well as a vantage point on the hillsides surrounding. If Bob were to leave now, they’d be able to nab him, and if he tried to flee up one of the hillsides, he’d be hard-pressed if under fire.

  Billy felt confident in this arrest, as did Hemsworth, and wanted to do just that, arrest him alive. Of course they could kill him, but after having murdered a fellow marshal, they wanted Bob to suffer as long as possible and eventually swing from a noose until dead.

  “I haven’t asked, how’s your mother?” Hemsworth asked as he rolled a cigarette.

  “I received a letter from her just before we came to Montana. She’s doing well, but I know things must be tough for her since Michael left. I’ve offered for her to come to Coeur d’Alene and live in my house, so I’ll see what she says.”

  “You’re a good son,” Hemsworth teased.

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “You could say that.”

  “I miss my ma, and I feel bad that my sister up and left her for that son of a bitch barkeep. I still to this day don’t know what got into her. She should be taking care of Ma, but she’d rather run a damn bar with her drunkard of a husband.”

  “I’ll offer one more time. If you want him to disappear, I know people who can help with that,” Hemsworth offered sincerely.

  “We’re lawmen; we don’t do those sorts of things.”

  “Look at it this way, we’d be saving your sister’s life and quite possibly any offspring they might have.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought about it, but it’s her life. I just don’t know what got into Shannon. She was always a good girl growing up,” Billy said.

  “People change.”

  “They do or they don’t. What if she was always harboring those types of sentiments?”

  “At least she’s not breaking the law, she’s just living beneath her abilities is all,” Hemsworth said.

  Billy thought about his comment and said, “That’s my greatest disappointment. I know she has potential and she’s squandering it.”

  “Well, my friend, we can’t control others, no matter how much we want to.”

  “I saw you received a letter in Missoula. Was it from Belinda?” Billy asked, referring to Hemsworth’s wife.

  “It was. She thinks she might be pregnant.”

  Billy’s eyes widened with surprise. “Pregnant? Congratulations. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Didn’t have time,” Hemsworth lied.

  “Time? It took us three hours to ride out here; you could have mentioned it then,” Billy said, chastising him.

  Hemsworth’s face shifted down.

  Even in the dim light, Billy noticed his dour look. “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t tell you because this is the third time in two years she’s been pregnant. She’s had a miscarriage the other two times,” Hemsworth confessed.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t know. We never told anyone except our parents.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand,” Billy said.

  “Good, ’cause I don’t, and please don’t mention anything to anyone, especially don’t tell Belinda when you see her next. She’ll have me drawn and quartered if she knew I told you.”

  “Your secret will die with me.”

  The door of the cabin creaked open.

  Billy swiftly spun around, picked up a set of binoculars, and peered down at the cabin. “Where do you suppose he’s going?”

  “Probably to relieve himself,” Hemsworth replied. He was also spying on Bob through his own set of binoculars.

  “And you’re right,” Billy said, lowering the binoculars. He turned back around and sighed. “This day is lasting forever.”

  Still watching Bob, Hemsworth said, “He’s done and back inside the cabin.”

  “I wish we could just shoot him and be done with this,” Billy complained.

  Sitting back down in his spot, Hemsworth said, “He doesn’t deserve an easy kill; he needs to suffer.”

  “I suppose we could make him suffer.”

  “We could, but that wouldn’t be right.”

  “How well did you know Abbott?” Billy asked, referring to the marshal Bob had murdered.

  “Well enough, he was a good man, one of the honest ones.”

  “Not all of us are, and it’s disappointing,” Billy said. He was referencing the fact that not all the marshals in service had integrity or operated within the laws they were sworn to enforce. The power of being a United States Marshal had gone to some people’s heads, and they often abused it. “I still can’t believe the story about that marshal in Arizona. It was shocking to hear that he was essentially a paid killer.”

  “That one gave us all a black eye,” Hemsworth said. “Promise me, kid, that you’ll stay honest and true.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t do this job otherwise.”

  “I know it can be easier to cut corners or skirt the law while saying you’re enforcing it, but we have to stand above everyone else. We have to have standards, ethics.”

  Billy nodded because he was a believer in everything Hemsworth said.

  Giving Billy a look, Hemsworth asked, “Promise me.”

  “Oh, you weren’t saying that rhetorically?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” Hemsworth insisted.

  “I promise, as God is my witness, I’ll never stray from the law or take matters into my own hands,” Billy declared.

  “Good man,” Hemsworth said. “I knew you were an upright fellow the second I met you back in Wallace those many years ago. I understood what you did and why you did it.”

  “But what I did could be considered skirting the law.”

  “I suppose I should rephrase it and say we should always do what’s morally right.”

  “Even if it’s against the law?”
Billy asked. He enjoyed the philosophical conversations and debates he often had with Hemsworth.

  “You see, that’s where the rub is. We’re here to enforce the law and bring those outlaws to justice. When you were a kid, you technically could have been tried, but your sheriff used his discretion and let you go because of who you killed and why. I suppose it pertains to the circumstances.”

  “What if we go down, kick Bob’s door down, tie him up, then torture him for a bit, then drag him behind our horses until we get to Bozeman?”

  “Torture? I don’t think I could do that, no matter how upset I am about what Two-faced did to one of our own,” Hemsworth said.

  “Well, I think a bit differently. Sometimes I think we need to act more like the people we hunt in order to fight them effectively.”

  “That’s an interesting take. I’ve never heard you express that before,” Hemsworth said.

  “It’s merely a thought exercise, nothing more,” Billy confessed.

  “You know what I like about you?”

  “My bright smile and jovial demeanor?” Billy quipped.

  “No, although those run a close second. I like that you think, but you don’t overthink so much you can’t do your job correctly.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Billy said, his chest puffed out.

  “It is a compliment,” Hemsworth said. “Say, how about you get an hour or so of shut-eye? I’ll keep an eye out for ole Bob.”

  “Don’t you go and take all the glory now. Wake me if he stirs,” Billy said, scooting down enough to stretch out along the hard rocky ground.

  “I would never do that,” Hemsworth joked.

  Billy covered his face with his hat and closed his eyes. Within a couple of minutes he was asleep.

  ***

  “Wake up,” Hemsworth said as he pushed Billy to get him awake.

  Billy rose quickly, his hat falling onto the ground. “What is it?” he asked, looking around but unable to see due to the dark of night.

  “It’s time.”

  “What time is it?” Billy asked as he got his bearings in the darkness. He’d been fast asleep for three hours.

  “I don’t know, but it’s been a good two hours since the sun set. I’ve been watching the cabin, and his lantern just dimmed about twenty minutes ago. That’s a good sign.”