A Lesson Learned: Red: Book 3

by Darrell Maloney

  It was a ruse they’d used successfully several times before.

  If they’d been told yes, the town had a large contingent of officers willing to help them, they’d have filed a false report about a horse and a horse thief that never really existed. They’d send the policemen on a wild goose chase, then sneak out of town to find an easier place to operate.

  On the other hand, if they found a pushover town… a town like Blanco, with a police department they could just roll over… they’d hang around a bit. They’d ask around, looking for unsavory types who might have jobs for them to do.

  One thing they didn’t expect was that the most unsavory citizen of all would be the police chief himself.

  They’d met him in early afternoon the previous day, exiting the bank where he’d put a handmade sign on the front window:

  BLANCO POLICE DEPT

  It wasn’t that he’d ever planned to do any real police work.

  No, Savage had placed the sign to remind the citizens of Blanco that he owned this town, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

  Savage had been heading down to the town’s only restaurant for a late lunch and was locking the door when the two strangers had approached him.

  The tallest of them spoke first, and tried hard to maintain an air of civility.

  “Excuse me, sir. Are you with the police department?”

  “Yes. I’m John Savage. I’m the police chief. Why?”

  “I hate to bother you, chief. I just need to file a report about a stolen horse. Maybe I can talk to one of your officers inside.”

  Savage had eyed him up and down, as though trying to assess the man’s character. The other one stood behind him and said not a single word.

  Where others in Savage’s position might have seen danger, Savage instead saw an opportunity.

  He unlocked the door to his office and reopened it.

  “Come in, gentlemen. Let me get some paper to write on.”

  Chapter 42

  Savage pulled some blank forms from his desk drawer. Forms he was completely unfamiliar with, for he’d never filled any of them out before. They were report forms someone had brought to him when they cleaned out the belongings of the former police chief, who’d had the courtesy of dying three months before.

  Of natural causes. Savage thought it quite considerate of the man to get himself out of the way so Savage could take over.

  He pretended to take an interest in the men’s plight, although he didn’t really give a damn about their stolen horse or the possibility there was a horse thief in town.

  All he wanted was for these men to hang around town long enough for him to determine whether he could use them to his advantage. For he’d seen their type before, and suspected they were capable of doing some pretty dastardly deeds if the money was right.

  “Okay, sir. Your first and last name?”

  The tall man said, “Gomez. Tony Gomez.”

  Savage dutifully filled in the top blank of the incident form.

  “And you say someone stole your horse. Can you tell me what happened exactly?”

  “We camped outside of town, at the side of the road right inside your city limit sign. A tall drifter came through and said he was out of matches and couldn’t start his own campfire. He asked if he could share ours to cook his rabbit.

  “He seemed like a nice guy, so we said sure. He ate with us and then slept with us overnight. He had a bottle of whiskey and shared it with us.”

  Savage’s mouth watered at the mention of whiskey but he said nothing.

  “We didn’t think anything of it. We’re road people and encounter other people like us all the time. But when we woke up the next morning the stranger was long gone. And so was our pack horse, with all our provisions.”

  Savage made a few notes on the form, pretending to care about the horse and the men’s predicament, but not really concerned about either.

  “Can you describe the horse and the stranger, Mr. Gomez?”

  “Horse was an appaloosa, more brown than black, traces of white. About fourteen hands high. A mare. Her saddlebags contained personal items. Clothes and such. And about a week’s worth of food.

  “The man was a white man, tall and thin. Clean shaven except for a mustache. He had dark hair and a brown cowboy hat.”

  “I see. Any indication which direction he may have gone?”

  “No. We figure he led her away in the gravel so as not to make a lot of noise, then rode away on the blacktop when he got far enough away.”

  “You two must be sound sleepers, not to hear him lead away your horse.”

  Gomez nodded.

  “We were up most of the previous night. So yes, we slept soundly.”

  Savage wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do about these men. He was sure he could use them in some capacity. To forcibly evict some of the town’s residents who’d fallen behind on their mortgage payments, perhaps.

  Or to provide personal protection from Red Poston, who he expected to return to Blanco soon.

  Actually he was hoping she never came back. She knew he’d left in search of Luna and was hoping that Luna turned the tables on her. But knowing Red as well as he did, he’d put his money on her in a head to head battle between the two of them.

  In any event, he needed for these men to stay around town a day or two until he figured out how he could best use them.

  “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Gomez. I’ll ask around town and see if anyone has seen either your horse or your horse thief. If they have I’ll take him into custody. If he was seen, and somebody knows which direction he went, I’ll get up a posse and we’ll go after him. But I need for you to stay in town for a day or two so I can get ahold of you. Do you have money to pay for a room at our boarding house?”

  “Nope. We’ll sleep under the stars like we always do.”

  “Come back and see me tomorrow, so we can go over the case. But come and see me late in the day. I usually work until about nine at night here in the bank. Come and see me about eight.”

  Gomez had looked at his partner, not believing their good fortune.

  They’d met with the police chief merely to feel him out. To assess him and size him up while they filed a phony report that would never amount to anything. So they could determine how best to take advantage of him.

  They never thought he might be doing exactly the same thing to them. But one thing was certain. They were presented with the opportunity to meet with Savage a second time, after the sun went down the following day.

  After presumably most of the town’s residents had gone to bed for the night.

  In a bank that was presumably full of gold and silver coin.

  It was like taking candy from a baby. A bloated baby in a banker’s suit.

  It was an offer they couldn’t pass up.

  So they’d accepted the police chief’s offer.

  “Okay, Chief,” Gomez had said. “We’ll hang around town and see you tomorrow night at eight to see what you’ve found out.”

  “Sounds good. Just listen for the church bells.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Since the clocks no longer work, the city has hired three men to be the city’s official timekeepers. They have an old wind-up watch, and every hour on the hour they ring the church bells.”

  That was the previous day. On this particular evening the two men began heading over to the bank when they’d heard a distant bell ring seven times in the darkness. By the time it rang again they were waiting outside the bank for Savage to open the door for them.

  Savage went around the room, lighting additional candles, as the men got comfortable in their chairs.

  It was time to get down to business.

  Chapter 43

  “Can I offer you men a drink? I’m afraid all the beer’s gone bad, but I have some pretty good scotch and some fair bourbon.”

  Gomez looked at Duncan, who smiled broadly. None of the policemen they’d dealt with in other towns had eve
r offered them free liquor.

  “Sure,” Gomez said. “Bourbon is good. For both of us.”

  Gomez speaking for both of them confirmed what Savage already suspected. That Gomez was their undisputed leader.

  The plan had been for the pair to make sure they were alone with the chief and then to rush him. They were to overpower him, threatening to shoot him if he called out or struggled. They’d hold him hostage until he gave them the combination to his bank vault, and they’d spend the rest of the night looting it at their leisure.

  They’d likely leave him dead when they left just before sunrise, their saddlebags brimming with all manner of precious metals.

  But Gomez wanted to hear him out. This man wasn’t behaving like the sheriffs and policemen they’d dealt with before. Gomez wasn’t sure, but he sensed this man was trying to court them. As though he were preparing to bring them into the fold.

  Savage stood at the bar in the corner of his office, his back to his guests as he poured whiskey into three squat glasses.

  Duncan stole a glance at Gomez, waiting for the “go” signal. Instead, Gomez just shrugged his shoulders. Then he held out his right hand, palm down, and dipped it slightly a couple of times. The universal symbol for “calm down.”

  Gomez wanted this thing to play out a little more, to find out exactly what they were dealing with.

  It might work to their advantage to find out what the fat man had to offer, instead of just killing him and hoping for a big payday.

  Savage handed the men their glasses and tried to ignore the stench their unbathed bodies had brought into his office. He’d spray a can of air freshener into the air after they departed.

  And he still didn’t have a clue how close he’d come to being killed. He was still too blinded by his greed.

  He sat down in his own chair across the desk from them and started his spiel.

  “First of all, Mr. Gomez, I’m afraid I’ve hit a dead end regarding your stolen horse or the man who stole her.”

  That much didn’t surprise Gomez. The horse and horse thief never existed. What might have surprised him, though, was that the investigation never existed either. Savage had asked no one if they’d seen the horse or thief, and had no intention to.

  Savage looked Gomez in the eye.

  “I hate to say it, but I’m afraid your belongings and provisions are long gone, as is the horse and rider. However, if you men are interested in doing some contract work, I think you can earn enough funds very quickly to replace everything you’ve lost.”

  The corner of Gomez’ mouth turned up in a sinister half-smile. Was the fat man seriously offering them a job?

  He resisted a very strong urge to tell his partner to rush the portly police chief. Partly because Savage could have a handgun hidden beneath his desk. And partly because Gomez was intrigued by Savage’s words.

  He wasn’t a man who’d ever provided a hard day’s work for an honest paycheck. But he wanted to at least hear the man’s offer before they put their own plan into place.

  “What kind of contract work, Mr. Savage?”

  “Let’s call it personal protection. There’s a woman who left Blanco for Lubbock about three weeks or so ago. I expect her to return to Blanco any day now. And when she gets here, she will kill me. I want to hire you men to watch out for her and to kill her before she gets to me.”

  Gomez fought hard to stifle a belly laugh. He wanted to shake his head and wag a finger at the fat man sweating heavily in front of him. He wanted to laugh out loud and say, “You’re afraid of a woman? A damned woman?”

  Instead he said absolutely nothing, prodding Savage to elaborate.

  “This woman, somebody gave her some false information. They said I had something to do with the murder of her husband and her little brat. And her father. They said I was caught up in it, and she rode off to Lubbock in search of a man to confirm it. And she told me that once she confirmed I was involved, she was going to return to Blanco and kill me.”

  Gomez found his tongue, and asked the obvious question.

  “If you weren’t involved, you shouldn’t be worried. The man she went to see will deny your involvement and you’ll be off the hook.”

  “You don’t understand. This man she went to see, he hates my guts. He has for many years, and he’s always wanted me out of the way. He’ll see this as a golden opportunity to get rid of me so he can come in and take over the bank. It’s something he’s always wanted to do, and now he’ll have the woman do his dirty work for him.”

  Savage had always been impressed with his own ability to lie on the fly. He assumed that the bullshit flowing unabated from his mouth was being accepted at face value.

  But Gomez had dealt with pathological liars his entire life. And another group of liars who spun stories at will to further their own agendas. Much like Savage was doing now.

  Gomez listened, pretending to buy Savage’s words. But internally he was merely processing them. Turning the tables on Savage and doing precisely the same thing Savage was doing.

  Trying to determine how best to use the fat man in front of him to gain the maximum amount of money from him.

  Chapter 44

  While Savage and Gomez sparred on opposite sides of the banker’s expansive desk, Red and Jacob were preparing for another night’s journey.

  They were five nights removed from the creek which had aided their escape from the ranch house. They’d put their pursuers out of their minds and assumed they’d lost them.

  It took a major load of stress off their shoulders and they’d started to relax a bit. It made their journey a lot more pleasurable.

  “What time you figure it is, Red?”

  She’d let Jacob sleep past sunset, because he was snoring loudly and obviously in deep sleep. She just hadn’t had the heart to wake him. So she didn’t roust him until an hour or so after darkness fell.

  She looked up at the stars.

  “I reckon it to be about nine p.m. or so. Should be able to put in a good fifteen miles tonight.”

  “How long you been up?”

  “Long enough to do some thinking. And to kick myself in the butt.”

  He chuckled.

  “About what? And for what? And if you ever need anybody to kick you in the butt, I’ll save you the trouble. I’m your man.”

  They’d bonded easily during the ride thus far and had become fast friends.

  “It dawned on me that we’re going out of our way by heading due east. That our plan to head due east until we get to Highway 281 and then turning south is just adding more miles to our journey. We can cut the corner and head southeast and shave at least thirty miles off the trip. Maybe more.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But isn’t going southeast more complicated than heading due east?”

  “I don’t think so. At least it shouldn’t be. I mean, the stars stay in the same position all night long, right?”

  “I don’t know, Red. I flunked science in school. I think they do. But don’t rely on my opinion. Then if it’s wrong you’ll kick my butt.”

  “Well anyway, I think they do. I watched the sky as the sun started to set. The sky was darkening enough to see the stars and I could see the position of the sun in relation to them. I was able to pinpoint southeast, and made note of the stars there.”

  “So all we have to do is follow those particular stars?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And hope like heck they don’t move.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hey, it’s a theory. And if it works we’ll know how to navigate in odd directions from now on.”

  “And if it doesn’t work we could wind up in Oregon or someplace.”

  She smiled.

  “I’ve always wanted to visit Oregon. It’s beautiful country up there, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said as he mounted up and took the point. They’d tried riding side by side and found that Red’s horse was afraid of the dark. He didn’t mind moving in tandem and following another h
orse’s rump through the darkness. But with a sea of black in front of him, where he couldn’t see where he was going, he got skittish and jumpy.

  “I’ll work on him when we get back to Blanco and we’ll help him get past it. For right now I’ll just follow you all the way back. I’m okay with it. With you always on point, you’re much more likely to get shot than I am.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Jacob didn’t mind being on point. It was a little more responsibility, since he always had to be on guard to watch out for fences, washes or other hazards. Red could more or less relax and doze in the saddle, letting her horse go on auto-pilot and follow Jacob’s horse through the night.

  Jacob had no such option. He was wearing the pair’s only set of night vision goggles. As such, it was his job not only to watch out for obstacles, but to follow the proper course through the night.

  But that was okay. He wanted very much to prove himself Red’s equal. Or at least impress her enough to make her accept his worth.

  And she did make one concession. She agreed to cut all the fences they came across.

  Texas, like every other state where cattle is a major commodity, was covered with range fencing.

  A typical range fence was made of three strands of barbed wire, strung between wooden posts spaced twelve to fifteen feet apart.

  The fences separated one ranch from another. And for the larger ranches, separated sections of land. It was an easy way for ranchers to keep their cattle more or less together, and to ensure they didn’t overgraze some sections of land while leaving others untouched.

  Now, a year after the blackout, most of the cattle were gone. They’d either been butchered to feed people who could no longer buy food off the supermarket shelf, or they were poached or rustled.

  The herds that still existed had been gathered up and moved closer to the ranch houses, where they could be guarded more easily.