by Neil Hunter
He left his room and went to Eden’s door.
“Yes?” she answered at his knock.
“It’s me,” he said.
“Bodie? Come in. The door’s not locked.”
Bodie stepped into her room, closing the door behind him. There was a full-length mirror in one corner of the room. Eden was standing before it, her back to Bodie. She was holding up one of her dresses, admiring it through the mirror. Apart from the dress she was naked.
“What do you think?” she asked as Bodie’s reflection appeared in the mirror.
He smiled from ear to ear, his teeth white against his tanned face. “From where I’m standing it’s just fine.”
Eden’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re hopeless! Don’t you ever think about anything else?”
“At a time like this,” Bodie pointed out, “no!”
Eden leaned back against him, tilting her face up. “I must be crazy,” she whispered. “As soon as you get me back to Huachuca you’ll be riding off again on some damn bounty hunt, and I won’t see you again for months. Bodie, that isn’t fair.”
He slid his arms around her warm body, fingers caressing her smooth stomach. Eden moved her hips against him, wriggling her firm buttocks. She gasped as Bodie lifted his hands, cupping her breasts, his strong fingers fondling the tender flesh. Her pink nipples began to swell, rising, growing hard and big. She turned her naked body round so that she was facing him. Her soft mouth was moist when she pressed it to his and she kissed him fiercely. Her busy hands pulled at his clothing, eager fingers searching for his rising hardness . . .
That morning they ate breakfast extremely late. But both of them displayed hearty appetites. After the meal Eden took herself off to look at hats in the store while Bodie paid a visit to the barbershop and then called in to see Marshal Rice. The Marshal had his bounty money ready.
It was early evening when they returned to the restaurant and had dinner. The meal over they strolled back to the hotel. Eden paused at her door.
“Bodie, do you mind if I say goodnight now.”
“You all right?” he asked.
“Just very tired,” Eden said. “The last few days are catching up on me.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Bodie stared at her closed door for a while. He made his way downstairs again and left the hotel, looking for a decent saloon. The one he chose had a couple of games of poker under way. After a half hour one of the players decided he’d had enough. Bodie slipped into his chair and was dealt into the game. He played for three hours. It was a steady game with nothing spectacular taking place. Bodie finished the evening one hundred and fifty dollars ahead. After the game broke up he stayed to have a final drink, and then left for the hotel.
It was close to midnight. Adobe Junction was starting to shut down for the night. It was quiet, the street practically deserted. It was a warm, pleasant night — until somebody took a shot at Bodie.
The bullet missed him by a fraction. It struck the window of the store Bodie was passing, shattering it with a loud crash. Bodie threw himself headlong, off the boardwalk, hitting the street on his shoulder. As he clawed his Colt from its holster he heard the blast of a second shot. The bullet gouged up a spout of dirt only inches from his face. Bodie dragged the big Colt out, his thumb easing the hammer back. A third shot split the night with its sound, and this time Bodie pinpointed the muzzle flash. It came from the dark mouth of an alley across the street. He twisted his body, rolling away from where he was lying, and as he came to rest he snapped off a single shot from his Colt. The moment he’d fired Bodie lunged to his feet and cut across the street, straight for the alley. As he closed on the dark opening he heard the slap of running feet and he knew his attacker was on the move. Ducking low, Bodie ran into the alley.
He reached the shadowed length of the alley, pausing so he could pick up any sound. There was hurried movement in the blackness near a pile of empty crates. Bodie waited, easing forward, the big Colt preceding him. A man swore softly. The wooden crates rocked, nudged by a solid weight. The muzzle of Bodie’s Colt came round and he pulled the trigger. The alley was briefly illuminated by an orange lance of flame. The shot reverberated between the walls of the buildings flanking the alley. Close on the heels of the shot came the shocked gasp of a man reacting to the impact of a bullet. As Bodie ran forward he could hear the frantic thrashing of the hit man. And then a gun exploded only yards away. The bullet burned across Bodie’s left cheek. He felt blood spill from the gash and stream down the side of his face. He automatically turned aside in case of a second shot, and stumbled over some unseen object. As he thrust upright again he heard the diminishing sound of running footsteps.
Bodie chased the unseen figure along the alley, catching a glimpse of a dark shape as the man reached the far end and the building, exploding splinters of adobe into Bodie’s face. He brushed the stinging particles away and ran on, stumbling and weaving his way along the trash-littered backyards. His quarry was always far enough ahead to be almost invisible in the darkness, only glimpsed as he passed by some lamp lit window. But Bodie could hear him, cursing and kicking his way through piles of rubbish, clumsily colliding with night-shrouded objects.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the noise ceased. The vague figure vanished from sight.
Bodie found himself alone. The buildings of town lay behind him. In front was emptiness — or so it seemed at first. Then his eyes adjusted to the gloom and he made out the skeletal shapes of empty corrals, a long, low shed. Further on stood the deserted rail depot, the twin tracks of steel gleaming dully in the pale moonlight.
A soft pulse of pain rose in Bodie’s side. Adobe Junction’s doctor had done an expert job of stitching up the raw wound in Bodie’s hip; it seemed now that his work had been in vain. Bodie could feel the slow spread of slick wetness across his flesh. The doctor had advised Bodie to take it easy for a few days, which had seemed reasonable enough — that was assuming he had taken into account the almost natural way Bodie had of attracting unexpected and violent occurrences.
As he stood, silent and watchful, Bodie emptied the two spent cartridges from his Colt, replacing them with full loads from his belt. He moved forward, his gaze angling from one side of the rail depot complex to the other. He knew his man was close. There hadn’t been time for him to get any further before Bodie entered the area. And from that moment there hadn’t been any sight or sound of him. Nor had Bodie forgotten the fact that he’d put a bullet in the man. How badly hurt the man was remained to be seen. The possibility that he might already be lying unconscious had crossed Bodie’s mind — but until he had proof of that he would treat his attacker as a potential danger.
On Bodie’s extreme right, barely within the periphery of his vision, something raised itself from the dark earth. It formed into the outline of man, merging with the black structure of the corral against which it leaned. In the split second of time it took for the image to register on Bodie’s mind, the pale light from the moon slid along the cold, hard barrel of a raised gun. Bodie swiveled from the waist, his right arm guiding the heavy Colt almost without thinking. He fired twice, the shots coming so fast there was just one continuous roar. They struck the distant figure in the chest, hurling him back against the corral posts, his gun arm flying upwards, sending a single shot skywards. There was a moment when Bodie thought the man was going to stay upright. Then he saw the dark shape hunch forward, heard the sodden thump as he flopped onto his face and lay still.
Bodie approached the prone figure with caution, his gun trained on the exposed head. The man’s right arm was extended, his gun lying close to the spread fingers. As soon as he was close enough, Bodie kicked the gun aside, sending it sliding off into the shadows. He crouched beside the man. The back of his dirty shirt glistening with blood from the large exit wounds Bodie’s bullets had made. Bodie caught hold of the man’s shoulder and heaved the body over. He stared at the dead face, stark white in the moonlight.
A memory of having seen the face before stirred in Bodie’s mind. It came to him seconds later. Even in death, with the dark smear of blood on his slack mouth, there was no mistaking the face of Billy-Jack Struthers.
Bodie stood up, his expression thoughtful. He jammed his Colt back in the holster and began to retrace his steps back into town. He met a curious bunch of Adobe Junction’s citizens who had been attracted by the shooting. They began to ask questions, but lost interest in the details when they caught the ugly gleam in Bodie’s eyes. Instead they skirted around him and went to drool over the bloody corpse. As Bodie neared the main street he saw Marshal Rice.
“I had a feeling you might be involved,” Rice said without implication. He glanced at Bodie’s blood streaked face. “How’s the other feller?”
“About now he’ll be getting fitted out with a nice pair of wings,” Bodie replied.
Rice thumbed his hat to the back of his head. “Who was he?”
“Name of Billy-Jack Struthers. Figured himself a hard man. Trouble was he just wasn’t smart enough.”
“You bumped heads before?”
Bodie nodded. “Yeah. While back. Last I saw of him and his partner they were locked up in a cell. They should still be there. Looks like they gotten themselves a good lawyer.”
“Take more than a good lawyer to get him out of this fix,” Rice said. “You say this feller had a partner?”
“Pike Cooley.”
Rice made a face. “That miserable son of a bitch! If he’s in town you’ve got my blessing to shoot him full of holes!”
“If I see him, I’ll give him your regards.”
Rice moved on to carry out his official duties concerning the corpse of Bill-Jack Struthers, leaving Bodie to make his way to the office of Adobe Junction’s doctor.
The nagging pain in his side bothered Bodie less than the reasoning behind Billy-Jack’s attempt to kill him. From his previous contact with the man, Bodie wouldn’t have expected Billy-Jack to try something on his own. And it seemed odd, Billy-Jack turning up in Adobe Junction the way he had, with or without his partner. The more he thought about it the more Bodie became convinced there was a lot of the story he hadn’t heard yet. And if there was anything Bodie couldn’t stand it was a loose end.
Chapter Sixteen
“You’re still angry,” Eden said over breakfast the next morning.
Bodie cut viciously at the slice of fried ham on his plate. “It’s bad enough getting shot at,” he snapped. “But it’s a damn sight worse when there ain’t a good reason why!”
“But you told me about this man Struthers and how you had him and his partner thrown in jail. Surely it was just Struthers’ way of trying to get even.”
“That’s what I thought first off,” Bodie said. “Only it doesn’t sit right. Not for a man like Billy-Jack Struthers. His partner, Cooley, should have been there to back him.”
“Do you think this Cooley could still be around?”
Bodie helped himself to more coffee. “Hell, Eden, anything’s possible.”
“The sooner we get on that train the better I’ll feel!” Eden tried to catch Bodie’s attention but he was hunched over his plate. “And what time does the train arrive, Eden? Oh, I’m not sure! Sometime late this afternoon, Eden!”
Bodie glanced up as Eden continued her monologue. She glared at him, daring him to interrupt. He didn’t, remaining silent, until Eden’s anger evaporated.
“Four-thirty,” he ventured, his tone almost verging on politeness.
Placated, Eden asked, “How’s your side?”
“In stitches!” Bodie grinned.
“Bodie!” Eden threatened.
He held up a hand in surrender. “It’s fine. Doc said I haven’t a thing to worry about as long as I don’t get dragged into bed and ravished by a wanton Army brat!”
Eden’s burst of laughter filled the restaurant. Heads turned, interested eyes lingering on the attractive young woman who appeared to be finding a great deal of amusement in something her companion had said.
“Bodie, you cut out that kind of talk,” Eden whispered. “You’ll get us thrown out.”
In subdued silence they finished their meal. On the way back to the hotel Marshal Rice crossed the street to intercept them.
“Morning Bodie. Miss Chantry.”
“Problems, Marshal?” Eden asked, sensing Rice’s mood.
“Could be,” Rice admitted. “I did some asking around last night and this morning.” He glanced at Bodie. “I’m pretty certain now that Struthers had company when he arrived in town.”
“Cooley?”
Rich nodded. “I reckon so.” He frowned. “Trouble is Cooley seems to have just upped and vanished. And that’s not all. It appears there was a third man with them. He’s gone as well.”
“You got anything on him?”
“No. All I heard was that he doesn’t look to be from these parts. That’s it, Bodie. Thought you’d like to know.”
“Obliged,” Bodie said.
“I’ll keep my eyes open ‘til you board that train,” Rice said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you think Cooley could be planning the same kind of thing Struthers tried?” Eden asked as they continued on to the hotel.
“Only way we’ll find out is if it happens,” Bodie said.
The train arrived at Adobe Junction’s depot on time. Nothing unduly out of place had occurred. If Billy-Jack’s partner, Pike Cooley, and the third member of the group, were still around, Bodie figured they were keeping themselves well out of sight. As far as he was concerned it could stay that way.
Marshal Rice accompanied Bodie and Eden to the depot. He still looked worried.
“I’d give a month’s pay to know what Pike Cooley’s up to,” he admitted, scanning the thin scattering of people at the depot.
“Don’t fret over it,” Bodie told him. “Maybe Cooley moved on.”
“You think so?” Rice asked, then shrugged. “Hell, it’ll work itself out. Have a good trip.”
Bodie and Eden boarded the train. A white-jacketed attendant took their scant luggage and led them into the plushly decorated Pullman car that Bodie had booked for them. It had its own private sleeping compartments and a comfortable lounge.
“Goodness, Bodie, such extravagance!” Eden exclaimed.
The attendant put away their luggage and made a discreet exit.
“Makes a change,” Bodie said. His boots sank into thick carpet as he crossed the lounge.
Eden sprawled in one of the padded armchairs. “It’s got more appeal than sitting in a saddle,” she said.
Bodie didn’t reply. He had moved to the window and was gazing thoughtfully along the length of the depot platform. It was practically deserted now. Even Marshal Rice had gone. Bodie felt the Pullman car shudder as the train jerked into motion. He abruptly turned from the window and began to pace up and down the length of the lounge.
“Great heavens!” Eden said. “Sit down, Bodie! Adobe Junction’s behind us now!”
“That makes it all right does it?”
Eden considered his remark. “Do you think Cooley might be on the train?”
“It’s possible,” Bodie said.
The train picked up speed as Adobe Junction vanished in the dusty heat haze. A featureless, dun- colored landscape spread out in all directions, isolating the steaming locomotive and its lines of coaches.
Bodie sat down, stretching his long legs out before him. He studied the scuffed toes of his boots.
“Bodie?”
He raised his eyes and studied Eden’s face.
“When you’ve gotten me off your hands — where will you go?”
“Are you going to ask questions the whole damn trip?”
“Until I get some sane answers from you — yes! Bodie, are you planning to spend the rest of your life chasing bounties?”
Eden knew she had touched on a forbidden part of Bodie’s life. She saw his expression change, saw the shutters come
down. His eyes took on a distant, chilled look. Eden took a deep breath, determined not to be diverted from the subject.
“Damn you, Bodie, don’t you play wooden Indian with me! I’ve known you too long to be intimidated by those icy stares. Oh, Bodie, isn’t it time you picked up your old life again?”
“Never was one for looking back. Hell, Eden, what I left behind is a long time dead.”
“I don’t believe that. How can you just walk away from all those years you spent building a reputation? Throw it in a corner like a worn-out coat! Bodie, there has to be a good reason!”
A good reason!
Eden’s face blurred as Bodie let his gaze drift. Like it or not, Eden’s persistence had revived memories kept dormant for . . . how long now? Maybe too long. Bodie fought a silent, mental battle — and lost it as the dark, angry, bitter flood came surging back. One thing Eden had been right about — there had been a reason. A damn good reason.
“Calm down, Bodie! It ain’t goin’ to change a damn thing, you kickin’ hell outa the furniture!’
“No? Well it does me good, Kris!’ Bodie walked across the humid hotel room, planting himself before the open window. He glared down at the grubby, dusty little town of Gallego. It was a dime a dozen cow town stuck out in the middle of nowhere, close to the Texas border with Mexico. Unimportant in most respects, Gallego, at that moment in time, was caught up in a violent and bloody reign of terror. The man behind the whole thing was one Rafe Devlin. He was riding roughshod over the whole of Tula County, seemingly doing exactly what he liked, and there wasn’t a damn thing that even the law could do about him. The local lawman, who had been county sheriff, was dead. His bullet-riddled body had been found in a dry wash one morning. His death came two days after he had delivered an ultimatum to Devlin, warning the man off. There was no actual proof that Devlin had anything to do with the murder, but the whole of Tula knew the truth. There had been other deaths too, and savage beatings, but always, after the event, the populace remained silent. It seemed the wise thing to do. Nobody was about to point the finger at Devlin — not if he wanted to stay alive.