“Don Diego Fernandez, I am placing you under arrest,” Travis told him.
“By whose authority?” Diego asked assuredly.
“By the authority of the United States of America and the State of Texas.”
The Mexican smiled confidently as he reminded the stranger, “This is Mexico. You have no authority here.”
“This gun is the only authority I need, Mister,” Travis sneered, pressing the barrel against Diego’s head.
The blood vessels in Diego’s temple beat wildly against the end of the pistol, giving Travis the only indication that the man was in the least bit afraid for his life and causing annoyance in him as he pressed the barrel closer, indenting the man’s flesh with its cold metal rim.
Diego hissed through clenched teeth, “You would not kill me. You don’t have the courage. You don’t have the approval of your precious government to kill me. You must get me back to your country to face a judge and jury. That is the way of your government, isn’t it, my friend?”
“You’re right. I won’t kill you. I’m placing you under my custody until we reach the border. Then, I’ll arrest you for murder. And,” Travis assured him with a growl, “I’m not your friend.”
“You have no proof of any murder,” Diego said confidently.
“I have enough proof to have you dangle until you strangle yourself at the end of a rope,” Travis assured the Mexican with growing indignation. “And I have witnesses who will say under oath that you used those murders as a decoy for your bank robberies.”
“Me? Robbing banks?” Diego laughed as he touched a palm to his chest in feigned disbelief. “Why would I, the richest man in all of Mexico, want to rob banks?”
“To fund your opium operation,” Travis told him.
“Opium?” Diego snickered. “My, you seem to think that you know every detail of my life.”
“Almost,” Travis said with confidence. “I have good sources for my information. At any rate, Mr. Fernandez, it is my duty to take you back to Texas to stand trial for your crimes.”
Diego threw up his hands as if in surrender with a shrug of his shoulders. But as he rose from the leather chair, a loud commotion from outside the door, which sounded like Savannah screaming angrily, took Travis’ attention away from him. Suddenly fearful for her life, he turned his head toward her voice, but was taken by surprise when, snakelike, Diego knocked the pistol to the floor and shoved Travis with all his might. Stunned and shaken, Travis fought to regain his balance. And for one fleeting instant, as his eyes found their way outside the library, he thought he saw Savannah with a bundle in her arms. Relieved to know that she was on her way to safety, Travis leaned forward to continue his assault. But as he righted himself, Diego’s fist found its mark across his jaw, sending him staggering backwards. Mercifully, Diego hesitated in his attack long enough for Travis to come to his senses. With a look of counterfeit benevolence, Diego charged toward the younger man who raised his arms in defense. With a devilish laugh, Diego lunged forward, fists flying and landing like great clubs of battle against the rigid face and tense ribs of the former Texas Ranger.
Travis held his ground, putting up an arm here, ducking there, knowing that the older man would soon tire himself out and waiting for his chance to overtake the devil himself. His patience paid off when Diego staggered backwards to catch his breath. At that time, Travis made his move. He burst toward Diego with renewed energy, pounding, jabbing and swinging his fists upon the startled Mexican.
Meanwhile, Savannah crouched in the hay, clutching her son in her arms, waiting for Travis to join her with her husband in tow. She cooed reassurances to the boy who looked up at her with terrified eyes. But loud bursts of gunfire startled her and the boy just as they found refuge in the dark recesses of the stables. She convinced him to sit in the hay while she went to the door to see what the commotion outside was all about.
She pushed open the heavy barn door and violent sounds blasted her as she looked around the streets at the hundreds of horses with yelping men that steered them around the street, firing guns and falling to the ground as the battle raged around her. Hundreds of men fought against more men in a battle that grew louder than the fireworks that blasted in the distance in the Cinco de Mayo celebration.
“Oh my God,” she whispered with a hand to her mouth. “I’ve got to warn Travis!” She worried that some of Diego’s men would come to his rescue inside the house and hurt the man that she loved. She closed the door and went back to her son to make sure that he stayed hidden in the hay while she left him to go back to the house. Satisfied that he would heed her warning to stay put, she kissed his head and prayed that he would do as he was told while she slipped out the stable door.
She ran down the dirt street, dodging bullets that ricocheted off the walls of buildings and when she made her way to the end of the street, she paused to survey the path that she must take in order to get to the house where Travis fought with her husband. Then, she ran across the street, sidestepping around bodies of dying men and squealing horses. Tears streamed down her face as she pushed onward, praying that she would make it in time to warn Travis that this mob was coming in Diego’s defense. But, as she hurried over the blood-drenched street, she heard a man curse and a horse grunt its protest as it was reined to a sudden halt just as it slammed into her.
A whirlwind of stars swam in her head and she fought against the blackness that threatened to overtake her. In her journey to oblivion, she heard a familiar voice ask her if she was hurt.
The voice echoed as if it was deep in a barrel as it repeated, “Are you alright?”
“What happened?” she asked as she was raised to a sitting position.
“You ran over my horse,” Tito quipped as he dusted her off. “I thought you were dead, Baby Girl. Are you sure you’re alright?”
She nodded as her head cleared and her eyes focused on the face in front of her. She blinked twice as she asked in dazed confusion, “Tito? Is that you?”
“Yep. It’s me all right. Can you stand up?”
“I think so,” she said as she allowed him to help her to her feet. As she found her footing, she looked into his face and noticed that there was something very different about him. With her brow furrowed in puzzlement, she asked, “What happened to your beard?”
Tito rubbed his now bare face and said with a smile, “I’ll explain that later. Right now, you need to get to safety.”
“But, I have to warn Travis,” she protested as he steered her back toward the stables.
“Where is he? Is he still in the house?” Tito asked as he opened the stable door and pushed her inside.
“In the library,” she told him as she tried to squeeze past him to go to Travis.
Tito caught her arm and redirected her back into the barn and closing the door in front of her, he told her as he latched the door from the outside, “I’ll take care of him.”
Both Travis and Diego stood puffing in the middle of the library, each daring the other to make the first move. Both were bruised and bleeding from their brawl, each thinking that he had won the battle and the other had conceded defeat. So, when Travis straightened to claim his prisoner, Diego lunged forward again, charging like a raging bull with his head ducked and his arms thrust toward his victim with boundless power. He did not stop his attack until Travis was thrown against a bookcase. With a crash, dozens of books fell from the shelves and onto Travis’ head and shoulders.
In a daze, he slumped to the floor. Diego laughed cruelly before he retreated to his desk to open the drawer and extract a small pistol. With it clutched in his fist, his walked purposefully back to the man who fought to regain his senses. With a grin, the Mexican stretched his arm and pulled back the trigger, satisfied that he had won at last.
In his disoriented state, Travis heard the click of the revolver as it was cocked and ready to fire at him. It seemed like hours before the chamber was exposed and the bullet was exploded from the pistol. The shot rang out in a mighty c
lap of thunder and was followed by dizzying silence. When he opened his eyes, he saw the Mexican slip in slow motion to the floor at his feet. Confused, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. By that time, Tito was at his side, helping him to his feet.
“Are you alright, Corbett?” Tito called to him from what seemed like far away. “He got you rattled, didn’t he, boy? Why, if I hadn’t shot him when I did…”
Travis grabbed Tito’s shirt with his fists and growled, “You son of a bitch! Why did you kill him?”
“Hold up there, boy. I didn’t kill him,” Tito defended himself. “I just winged him. He’ll be healthy enough to stand trial.”
Travis shook his head again and allowed his friend to lift him to his feet as he said, “Well, thanks, Tito. Looks like you came in the nick of time. You saved my life…again.”
“Well, now. I couldn’t let that bastard take you away from that filly you’ve got hiding in that stable,” Tito answered with a chuckle.
“Is she alright? Did she get the boy?” Travis asked as he rubbed his sore head.
“Yep. Both are fine. Now let’s get you back to her so I can get this place cleaned up.”
“What do you mean?” Travis asked as Tito led him out of the house and into the streets that were now quiet and calm.
His friend waved his hand in the air, dismissing his question as he said quickly, “I’ll explain later. I’ll go back and get the Mexican and meet you in the stable. Can you make it by yourself?”
Nodding, Travis conceded to let Tito recover El Diablo. He left the house and for the first time, he saw the bodies strewn across the town. His breath stopped in his throat before he asked anyone who would answer, “What the Hell went on here?”
He weaved through the mangled men and horses and made his way to the stable. Stumbling to the door, he lifted the heavy bolt and threw open the door. As the musty odor of the stable assaulted him, he heard her voice and felt her arms encircle his neck where she cried her joy that he had survived. He kissed her soundly on the lips and then held her with all the strength that he had left.
When Tito returned with the unconscious body of El Diablo, Travis didn’t wait for him to drop it to the ground before he assailed him with question, “Alright, start explaining!”
Tito knew that his friend deserved an answer so he shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets before he drew in a long breath and said, “Well, you see son, there’s something that I haven’t told you about myself. Something that you’re gonna find hard to believe.”
“I’m finding a lot of things about you hard to believe,” Travis accused, stepping closer to the older man.
Tito nodded in apology as he continued, “I’m sorry for that, Travis. But, you see, it had to be handled this way.”
“What way?” Travis seethed at his friend. “By having that Mexican attack me in the alley? Was that your plan? To get me out of the way so you can take all the glory of killing El Diablo yourself?”
Tito shook his head and stared at his boots incredulously before he asked, “Martinez?”
“I didn’t get his name, but I did find this on him,” Travis said as he pulled the blood-soaked watch from his shirt pocket.
Tito’s eyes widened when he recognized the watch that he had given the man who was supposed to meet him that afternoon, “What happened?”
“Like I said, he came up behind me and laid a knife to my neck and said that he was taking me out of his way.”
“Damn!” Tito swore. “Why did he want you dead?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Travis said accusingly. “He said that you put him up to it.”
“Me?” Tito said disbelievingly. “I wanted him to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t get yourself into a situation where you would get hurt. He wasn’t supposed to try to kill you.”
“Well, he damn near did just that. If I hadn’t shot him in the hind leg, he’d have succeeded.”
“I swear, son,” Tito assured his friend. “I didn’t tell him to do that. I had no idea that he would turn on me.”
Travis nodded, knowing that Tito was speaking the truth and he clapped the large man’s shoulder before he said, “I know. I guess he had his own reasons for wanting me dead.”
“I suppose he did,” Tito said as he looked at Savannah, who clutched her son to her breast in the corner of the stable. Remembering the comments that Martinez had uttered about her, he realized why the man had wanted to rid himself of the man who held her heart. He did not relay this knowledge to Travis for he knew that the man would hunt Martinez down and kill him and that was not what his friend needed to worry about right now. Instead, he shuffled his feet before he said to his friend, “I assure you, Travis. I had only your safety in mind and Martinez was not acting on my orders.”
“I know that, Tito,” Travis said with a wink at his friend. For the first time, he realized that something was different about his friend, something that he could not figure out until he stared long and hard at Tito’s face and he asked after much pondering on the subject, “What’s different about you?”
With that question from his long-time friend and knowing that he should explain himself further, Tito stuck out his hand as if introducing himself for the first time and announced, “I guess I should tell you my real name. Alberto Gonzales, at your service.”
“Alberto?” Travis repeated. “And all this time, I thought your name was Tito Sanders.”
“It is. Tito is short for Albertito, which is what my mother (rest her soul) used to call me. And I took her last name.”
“Why did you change your name?” Travis asked while he looked into his friend’s eyes for an answer.
“I didn’t want anyone to know me. I was under cover, as you know, so I kept my real identity a secret,” he explained with earnest. When Travis opened his mouth to ask more questions, he waved them away and said in his normal growly voice, “You two stay here for the night while my men clean this town up. Keep El Diablo out of sight, too. They think he escaped and if they find out he’s holed up here with you, they’ll think you’re his accomplices and probably kill you first and ask questions later. It’ll be safe for you to leave tomorrow.”
Agreeing with his argument but not quite understanding his motives, Travis nodded and allowed his friend to leave him alone with Savannah and her son. Many questions burned in his mind, but they would have to wait until Tito was ready to reveal the answer to them. He went to her and held her in his arms, chasing away the fears that he knew were haunting her at that moment.
Savannah let him embrace her, but she felt something in his mood that made her question him, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he said as he hugged her again. “Tito is hiding something and it’s gonna eat me up if I don’t find out what it is.”
She felt his body leave her, replaced by emptiness, but she did not protest. Knowing that he would investigate further, she allowed him to leave her in the stable while he learned what his friend was keeping from him.
After tying El Diablo in more ropes than necessary to keep the unconscious man from escaping, Travis eased out the door of the stable. Making sure he was not spotted, he ran across the dirt street to the house where his captive lived. He slipped inside with no problem, the guards having been rounded up by Tito’s men and those men were too busy celebrating to notice him. As he rounded the corner of the hallway, he heard Tito’s voice booming from the library and he followed it until he found his way back to the room where he had fought with El Diablo.
He stopped short at the door when he heard a female voice arguing with Tito. He waited while he listened to the conversation inside the room.
“Diego escaped?” the woman asked, her sultry voice raising an octave when she said the last word. “He left without me?”
“Afraid so, Maria,” Tito told her with no remorse in his voice. “It seems he left you behind to take the brunt of the punishment.”
“And what punishment would that be?” her vo
ice sounded seductive and alluring as if she was trying to talk him into letting her go.
“Well,” Tito said before he took a long pause and then continued, “Murder is a very serious offense.”
“Murder?” Maria spat as if the word was distasteful to her. “Who was murdered and why do you think that I had anything to do with it?”
“Many people were murdered by El Diablo,” he said with a drawl.
“And who is this…El Diablo?”
“Diego Fernandez, that’s who. Now, don’t tell me that you never knew what people were calling him,” Tito argued, his voice growing angry.
“Never,” she hissed. “He was a gentle, loving man to me. I never knew of his deeds beyond this house.”
But outside the room, Travis remembered what she had told him of the dastardly deeds of the man in question while in her drunken stupor and he laughed inwardly at her attempt to persuade Tito of her innocence.
“What about his wife?” Tito asked suddenly and she caught her breath in surprise. “What happened to Mrs. Fernandez?”
A pause impregnated the room before she answered defiantly, “She died. Suddenly and tragically.”
“Is that what he told you or is that the story that you both made up to keep people from asking questions about her disappearance?” Tito accused.
“That is what he told me,” she replied, still standing her ground.
“And I suppose you had nothing to do with keeping her drugged and starved while telling her that her son had died?”
“How did you know about that?” she seethed without thinking of the consequences.
“So you did have a hand in it,” he said as if finding out the truth at that moment.
A defiant Maria barked her answer before her footsteps came toward the door where Travis was standing, “It was the only way, I tell you. We had to get her out of the way. To secure her fortune…” She paused again before she continued as if the last statement had not been said, “And then, she somehow got away and ran out into the desert where she died, or so we thought.”
“What do you mean?”
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