CHAPTER 19
Chet and the boys dressed, then saddled their horses in the lamplight. Leading them down the dark street, they found the light on in the saloon. They hitched the mounts at the rack and climbed on the porch, where Chet stuck his head in the double door.
“This where breakfast is at?”
Her hair all combed and a better dress on her, she smiled from the lighted kitchen doorway. “It’s about ready. I have hot coffee. You aren’t Mormons, are you?”
“No, ma’am, we are not. We all drink coffee, and we thank you for getting up and cooking for us.”
“You bet,” Cole added, seeing in the light from the kitchen that the table was set. “Why, this is damn near as good as home.”
She laughed and brought out dishes of food. Chet decided she was not holding back on them. Scrambled eggs with hot pepper flecks and cheese melted on them. Homemade fried sausages, German-fried potatoes and biscuits with gravy.
“Great coffee,” Chet told her.
“You ever need work again, come to Preskitt; we will find you a real job,” Cole said.
“I have four children. How will I get there?” She stood with her hands on her hips. “My name is Lolinda Renaldo. I am no longer married, and while Cy is good to me I need a better income and job. Not much happens here.”
“If I pay you twenty dollars,” Chet asked, “can you hire someone with a wagon to take you and your kids over there?”
“Oh, sí.” She had a pretty smile, he decided.
“Come to my ranch in Preskitt Valley. People can show you the way. My wife’s name is Elizabeth, and Monica is her housekeeper.”
“Your name, señor, is Chet Byrnes?”
“That’s right. And there are people I know who need a fine housekeeper.”
“Oh, gracias, señor.” She took his paper money and bowed. “I was worried we would freeze if I stayed here. The hut we live in is not very much.”
“If we ever get home, we’ll see you there.”
After breakfast they rode north, stopping to tack a note on a tree for Bennie and Ramon just short of the road. This way, they would be able to see it coming out, but no one on the road would notice.
Leave the prisoner here for care and arrest.
Then come north. We will leave notes or you will find us—Chet.
With the pink light of dawn coming over the Four Peaks, a pack of startled javelins broke out and, grunting like hogs, ran across the road. Cole’s horse had a small fit but he held him in laughing. “We woke them up, huh?”
Mid-morning they came across the mules, set loose and scattered and throwing their heads up to bray at them. All had signs of once bearing a packsaddle, and Chet knew in an instant that the stage robbers had made their connection and they were too late. Six stout mules without a brand on any of them were turned loose and grazing. They did not belong there, but where was the rest of the outfit?
Jesus studied tracks and had no answer. “They must have wrapped the horses’ hooves in blankets. I can’t find a thing about where they went next.”
They sat down to consider their next move. How could three or so bandits simply vanish?
After going over the issue of the disappeared outlaws several times, Chet told the men to catch the mules. They would offer them as stray property at home and then sell them. They were probably worth eighty dollars apiece.
“We’ll share them with the vaqueros,” Chet said. “Let’s go back and tell Lolinda she can cook for Jesus and the men going back with their prisoner. Cole, you and I need to get back home and work on the stage business. We’ll get our bedrolls and go back cross-country by the way we came. I see no reason to stay around here and look in blind box canyons for them.”
“Where do you think they went?” Cole asked.
“No idea. Someone will tell on them, though. We’ll get them eventually. They aren’t that smart.”
“Starting out, you said we may have found some smart outlaws,” Cole said, shaking loose a lariat to rope his first mule. “How did they do it?”
“Put wraps on their horses’ hooves like you boys said. I don’t know much more, but I feel they’re still in the territory and will show up soon, be it in Tucson or Tombstone.”
“Do you think they split up?”
“They may have done that, too. They did something and they did it overnight.”
Jesus shook his head. “One minute they were here and now they’re gone. Last night they needed food. I hear the others coming.”
“Good, they can help us catch the mules.”
“Wonder if their prisoner died?” Cole asked, looking hard at their line of pack animals.
“He looks to be over a horse. Or what’s left of him, at least.”
“So we are taking the mules back?” Jesus asked.
“We should.”
“It will take almost a week.”
Chet agreed. “Those men don’t know the way. You do.”
“I’ll do it. Don’t you two get your neck broke going home without me.”
They laughed and then welcomed the other two.
“He die?” Chet asked about the prisoner.
“Sí. Yesterday. We couldn’t do much for him.”
“Well, we aren’t missionaries. We will have to bury him, though. They left their mules here and the trail ends.”
“How did they do that?” Ramon asked, looking around the area.
Cole shook his head. “If we knew that, we would know where they went. Help us catch the rest of these mules. Part of them belong to you.”
After rounding up the mules, they rode back to Rye. The bartender told Chet they could bury him in the local cemetery right by the two Chet had hung years before. Lolinda came out of the kitchen and Chet told her that since they were taking a wagon to Preskitt and the mules there to be sold that they could take her and her kids with them. The bartender didn’t know anyone up there had a claim on the mules. Then he cleared his throat and asked Chet, “If I would marry her, could she stay here?”
“You better ask her. That ain’t up to me.”
“Lolinda, would you marry me?”
She stopped and turned. “You want to marry me? You never mentioned it before.”
He got tangled up stripping off his apron and hurrying to get out from behind the bar. “I don’t want you to leave. I can build another room on my house for your children. I really want you to stay and help me.”
He had her in his arms and they kissed.
“Well, looks like we bury him and go back across country,” Chet said with a smile.
“Mrs.—uh, Green, the five of us will be back shortly for lunch.”
“Oh, sí. You can have your money back, señor.”
“No. That is our wedding present to you. Lunch, supper, and in the morning breakfast. Don’t go on a honeymoon until you do that. Then we’ll be gone.”
“Oh, señor, I can do that.”
“Good luck to both of you.” He turned back to his men. “Okay, let’s go buy us two shovels at the store and get this outlaw buried.”
“I can do that,” Cole said. “Jesus and the men can put up our stock for the day.”
Left with nothing to do, Chet settled himself on a chair and rubbed his shoulder. He hadn’t had time to notice it aching until then.
“You need something like a root beer?” Cy asked, still holding Lolinda in his arms.
“That’ll be fine. No rush.”
“I can get it. I will have her for all my life.”
Chet winked at her. “Sometimes men wake up and realize what they really have on their hands.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, and went for the root beer. She shook her head happily and went to start lunch.
The crew came back for their mid-day meal. Afterward, they finished the grave and buried the man. Several people came by for a drink and asked about what was happening. Chet quizzed them all, but no one knew anything about the outlaws.
The dead one buried, they went over their
horses and tack. Jesus reshod two horses that had loose shoes and they declared them ready to return home in the morning. Lolinda promised at supper to once again feed them before dawn. She had bought a new beef roast from the local butcher and cooked it all afternoon for them.
For the free meal, many customers came in to meet them and feast. Cy Green announced he was marrying Lolinda and everyone applauded. There was even music, but Chet was busy talking to a cowboy who told him he thought the outlaws had crossed over Four Peaks at night.
“Why do you think that? I understand that’s one helluva trail. Especially at night.”
“If they had a good guide, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
“You have a name of that person?”
“I might learn it for a price,” the man offered.
Chet sagged. “What’s the price?”
“Fifteen dollars. I want a cartridge .44/.40 Colt pistol.”
“You can mail me that name and I’ll pay for a gun for you at the store.”
“That would be good.”
Chet shook his hand. “Better yet I will mail you the money when you give me the name.”
“Not a word who told you?”
“Not a word.”
“I’ll find out. May take some time. They’re pretty close-mouthed.”
“Let me know.”
“Oh, I will,” the man assured him. “I want that pistol.”
Later, he told Cole and Jesus what he had learned.
“That is a terrible way to go over from all we’ve heard about it,” Jesus said.
“Right, but he thinks an expert guide took them over it.”
“You said a snitch would know something.”
“I’m waiting for his letter with a name.”
“He say who?”
“They must use the trail. Sounded like a family deal,” Chet said. “We may get a name to come and question them.”
Cole and Jesus both nodded.
The whole thing sounded strange, but until he knew more that was all they could do. He paid Cy and Lolinda for the large meal and thanked him for inviting the others. “See you for breakfast.”
The next morning before dawn, Lolinda was there, ready, and looking totally relaxed. When she poured him more coffee, she bent over and kissed Chet’s cheek. “Tell your wife I love you, too.”
“Lolinda, I’ll sure tell her.”
“Man, boss, what is it with you, anyway?” Cole demanded.
They all laughed.
Still dark outside with the mules braying, Chet and Cole mounted with one packhorse and left by the cross-country course for the return trip. The other three were taking the mules back and going home by the south route through Fort McDowell—the very route of the robbed stagecoach, in fact.
In three days, Chet and Cole came up the ranch driveway under a cloud cover he expected to let loose more snow any moment.
Raphael came out to meet them and they explained to him what happened. He asked, in some confusion, “All you got were some mules?”
Chet shrugged. “All we got. They escaped us.”
His wife came out on the porch. “I’m coming, get back in the house. It’s too cold outside. Raphael, Cole can tell you, too, but those two vaqueros are mighty good hombres.”
Liz didn’t listen to his caution for her and shivered under his arm. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He kissed her. “Let’s get inside. We’re empty-handed. They lost us.”
“Oh? That’s never happened before.”
He shook his head. “No.”
Inside the house, he shed his heavy jacket and turned to her. “All we have to show are those damn noisy mules the boys will bring back in a few days.”
“That’s almost funny.”
“No, it’s not. We have a new set of very smart criminals.”
“So what will you do now?”
“I have feelers out. They may not be that smart.”
“Oh, Chet, I’m simply glad you’re back in one piece.”
“Darling, I am glad to be home, period.”
“We are so glad you did come home,” Monica said. “Are you ready to eat lunch?”
“Yes.” He turned to his wife. “You two have Christmas under control?”
“I think we do.”
“Good.” He kissed her again and they sat down to eat.
It was good to be back in his own house, but the escaped outlaws weighed heavily on his mind. There had to be some way to draw these criminals out. He would just have to figure out the proper bait.
The next day he took Liz and went into town. She had more things to get for Christmas, and he wanted the names of the passengers on the stage the evening of the holdup from Ryan. They might have been involved in the deal. There was no telling. Plus, he needed to talk to Bo about the stage deal.
Ryan was disappointed about them losing the trail, but said he understood, and appreciated all their effort.
“I want your list of the passengers. Also do you know a Brad Crawford?”
“I have them right here, sir. You want to copy them?”
Chet read the list. Harvey Armstrong—Tucson businessman. George Nelson—Tucson businessman—Ruth Carlson—a friend.
A friend? Was she a mistress, maybe? “Tell me about the lady,” he ordered.
Ryan turned up his hands. “I never saw her before. She wasn’t some dumb canary, though. Very well dressed and reserved.”
“Figure she was a concubine for one of them?”
“If she was, she was a damned expensive one is all I have to say.”
Chet laughed. “Where did they stay?”
“Brown Hotel I think. Are you tying them to the robbery?”
“I’d tie anyone to it if they were involved in finding out about the delivery the stage carried.”
“I swear no one in my office knew about it until it went on the stage. It came from the bank, and two armed men delivered the strongboxes to the stage office a half hour before the stage left.”
“No rumors. So they had to know beforehand it would be on that particular stage and when to rob it.”
“Well, they didn’t ever rob an empty stage run,” Ryan said.
He thanked Ryan for all his work and told him they weren’t through finding the culprits.
Next, he went by the bank and talked to Tanner about the operation.
“I’m not accusing anyone, but someone told the outlaws that the money and the gold was going to be on that stage.”
Tanner looked perplexed. “You think they knew about the shipment?”
“Those men never stopped an empty stage. They only held up that one, which just happens to be the one carrying a fortune?” Chet shook his head. “That’s no coincidence, and it points to some inside information. No one at the stage office knew if there was a shipment or not, according to Ryan. Then they took a trail they made beforehand to throw off a posse and still escaped by taking a perilous shortcut over Four Peaks at night. Someone gave them information about the shipment schedule to set up the robbery.”
“From this bank?”
“Tanner, I can’t see anyone else who gave them the information at least two days ahead to be ready for the holdup.”
“Who do you think might have been involved?” Tanner asked.
“Two people called businessmen, and an attractive woman listed as a friend were passengers on that stage. I’m thinking they’re part of the brains.”
“Let me check. Who do you think got the information?”
“Number one, the appraisal for that female was she might have been an expensive concubine.”
Tanner frowned. “What was her name?”
“Ruth Carlson.”
Tanner wrote it down. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
In a short while, he returned with two young bank workers.
“This is Earl Hudson and Rupert Norman.” Chet rose and shook their hands.
Tanner had them sit down before his desk. “Now, there was a woman i
n town a week ago. Either of you meet her? Her name was Ruth Carlson.”
“I met her, sir. I am not very proud of that meeting,” Norman said, looking at his feet.
“You have an affair with her?” Chet asked.
“I guess I got very drunk and we had sex. I think I was doped.”
“Did you tell her when the money and gold was being shipped?”
Norman shook his head. “I can’t recall doing it, but I was not in control of my wits. I don’t know what I might have told her.”
“How did you get in that trap?”
“I met her when she needed a hundred-dollar bill broken here at the bank. She mentioned a small get-together at the hotel that evening. She was very good looking and I was tempted. But when I got there, it was not a party but a meeting between her and me.”
Tanner shook his head. “Marshal, obviously your suspicions have been confirmed. How does that work?”
“We know one thing now. I have more things to check. What they were doing up here besides this robbery?”
“They never spoke to me,” Tanner said. “Either of you speak to—what were the names again, Chet?”
“George Nelson or Harvey Armstrong,” Chet said.
“No, I never heard of them,” Hudson said.
“She told me sometime they were mine investors, those two men she worked for,” Norman said. “They were dealing on some property down in the Bradshaws. That she could get me their large deposits for this bank.” He shook his head. “I guess I can believe that was a lie, too.”
“Obviously.”
“She live in Tucson?”
“As if you could believe anything she said,” the young man said sullenly.
“I understand,” Chet said.
“You may go,” Tanner told them.
“Yes, sir.” They left the office.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Chet.”
“I figured she was a black widow spider.”
“How can I trust him?”
“I think he was very open. A powerful, good-looking older woman took him in, in my book. They hired her for her sharp skills at seduction and doped him. I think he learned a sad lesson. He’s not the first, nor the last she’ll deceive.
“Did that help you?”
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