Revenge at the Rodeo

by Gilbert, Morris

  Tom Leathers and Fighting Bill Baker were waiting to help him get aboard, so Bake stood beside Dani. He had heard her plea and finally asked, “Why’d you do that? Beg Luke not to get on that bull? You two got something going?”

  Dani blinked her eyes in surprise, but answered quickly, “Seeing that boy hurt made me sick, Bake. I—I don’t want to see Luke get injured. Or you either.”

  “No way to keep from getting hurt. Goes with the territory.” Then he nodded at Sixkiller, who was asking for the gate. “But that bull’s not going to hurt anybody much. He’s about as reliable as one of those critters ever get.”

  The gate swung open, and Sixkiller stuck on the animal’s back like a burr. The buzzer sounded, and just at that moment, Luke, preparing to leave the plunging animal, was caught off guard. The bull gave an unexpected lurch of his hindquarters, which threw Luke forward, then tossed his head high. Luke caught the full force of the bull’s uplifted head right in the face, and as he left the animal, he staggered blindly.

  Dani cried out, but Bake announced, “He’s okay! Didn’t catch the horn!”

  So it appeared, for as Lowe and James drew the bull away, Sixkiller seemed to recover. He threw his head back, then stood with his back straight as the announcer called out, “He’s all right, folks! A fine ride by Luke Sixkiller!”

  Dani watched as he came through the gate, met by Ruby Costner and Boone Hardin. They positioned themselves on each side of the burly rider, leading him away. He tried to protest, but Ruby said firmly, “You come along with me, Luke. I’ve had lots of experience with banged-up bull riders!”

  “Wants to play nurse, I’d guess,” Dani muttered.

  As the three disappeared, Bake said, “He’s in good hands now. Ruby’s pretty good at taking care of a man.”

  Dani frowned, but Ruth Cantrell had entered the arena, leading her horse. “Almost time for the barrel race,” she said. Dani left to get Biscuit. By the time she got back, two of the girls had already made their race. She moved into position, thinking of the sound of the horns striking against the chest of Dubois and then of Luke’s head being driven backward by the force of the bull’s devastating blow. It threw her timing off and her ride was bad.

  She rubbed down Biscuit, fed him, then waited for the rodeo to end. Afterward Dani went to Hank’s trailer and spent nearly two hours with the children. They were bright youngsters, and after they had satisfied her with their work, Cindy begged to ride Biscuit; of course Maury demanded equal rights. Dani took them to the corral and saddled Biscuit, and they spent an hour there. As Cindy was riding, with Maury behind her, Hank and his assistant joined Dani by the corral. Both men were tired and dirty, but Hank seemed glad to see her. “Kids do all right with their arithmetic, Dani?”

  “Sure did.” She hesitated, then asked, “Did you hear anything about the cowboy who got hurt?”

  The two men exchanged glances, and Hank told her soberly, “It’s not good. He got some internal injuries. Could be real bad.”

  Rocky James, a thickset man of thirty, had bulging shoulders and moved rather painfully when he was out of the arena. He usually had little to say, but now he suddenly threw down his hat, his face angry. “We’re all crazy!” he cried bitterly. He began to curse, but Hank stopped that at once.

  “Shut up, Rocky! Watch your mouth!”

  James glared at him, then picked up his hat and walked off without a word. “You have to excuse Rocky, Dani,” Hank explained quickly. “He was on top of the game once, but got hurt. Matter of fact,” he added with a shrug, “he stays hurt.”

  “I don’t see how either of you survive,” Dani admitted.

  “Well, I don’t either. I’ve been at it for a long time, and I’ve had my share of wrecks. But Rocky’s had every bone in his body broken, including his back. He knows a lot about bulls, but he’s lost a step. The bones don’t heal as fast now, and the falls hurt worse.”

  “For you, too, Hank.” Dani nodded. Then she asked, “Why don’t you get out of it?”

  He gave her a swift look, then glanced down at his feet. “Meant to last year. I’ve got a horse ranch in Colorado. Nice little place. But it gets lonesome, you know?” Pain came to his eyes, and he faltered.

  Dani understood his problem at once. “You were planning to marry Ruth and make a home there?”

  “Yeah, that was it.”

  “I’m sorry, Hank.”

  He shook his head, then tried to smile. “One thing about being in the rodeo business, Dani. You learn how to lose. I’ve been throwed by many a horse, so losing Ruth was just another spill.”

  “No, it’s not like that, is it, Hank?” Dani pointed out gently. She put her hand on his arm, looked at him carefully, then said, “You’re doing a fine job with your children. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Ruth, but there’ll be another woman for you.”

  Lowe gave her a startled glance, then found a shy smile. “Well, I’ve always been kind of a one-woman man, Dani. But thanks for your interest.” He gave a look toward where Rocky James was stalking into the gates of the Dome, and said thoughtfully, “I’m worried about Rocky. He’s been taking butazolidin.”

  “What’s that, Hank?”

  “What vets give to horses with swollen joints.”

  Dani stared at Hank. “He’s taking horse medicine?”

  “That and maybe other stuff. He’s strong, Rocky is, but in the morning he can hardly get going, he’s so beat up.” He shook his head, adding, “He can’t do his job. Going to have to get a new guy after this season.”

  “What will he do?”

  Lowe’s cheerful face grew sober, and he shrugged saying glumly, “Don’t know, Dani.”

  Dani left, feeling depressed. As she got to her car, she found Boone Hardin leaning against Luke’s car. He glanced up when she appeared, and Dani asked, “How’s Luke, Boone?”

  “How should I know?” An acerbic note flavored the young cowboy’s short answer, but he shrugged his shoulders. “Ruby took him to that fancy motor home of hers. I went inside, but she got Luke down on a bed and we put some cold cloths on his head. Then she ushered me out.”

  “It looked like a pretty serious blow, Boone.”

  “Aw, not all that bad,” he answered. “Got a knot on his head is all.”

  “He needs to see a doctor.”

  Boone shrugged again, trying to look the part of the old, experienced rodeo hand. “If we went to the doctor every time we got a lick, they’d have to close the rodeo down.” He heaved himself up, wondering, “You going to that party Clyde and his wife are throwing tonight?”

  “Oh, I guess not, Boone.”

  “I am. And if I get a chance I’m going to knock Clay Dixon on his rear.”

  “That didn’t work too well the last time,” Dani warned him.

  Boone blushed suddenly, but stubbornly insisted, “He got in a lucky punch. And this time I won’t need Clint Thomas to break a chair over his head.”

  Dani studied Boone carefully, but made her voice casual. “You don’t like Clint, do you?”

  At once the young cowboy set his lips and shook his head. “He’s a good rider.” It was no answer, but something in young Hardin’s face made Dani realize that he would say no more.

  “See you later, Boone,” she said, then got into her truck and left the parking lot. The air was still hot, but she left the windows down, letting the breeze wash over her face. As she threaded her way through the afternoon traffic, she tried to shake off the depression that had fallen on her.

  It troubled her that she seemed to be getting no place with the investigation. She tried to tell herself that it was going to take a break of some sort, a handle she could use to wedge the case open. So far, there was almost nothing to investigate. The one thing she had decided was that whoever was behind the thing was no outsider. Being careful not to give herself away, she had talked more than once to several of those who were paying off the Creep. Almost all of them had given her something that made her conclude that it was an i
nside job. Ruth had agreed, “It’s always the same one who calls—at least from what I can pick up from the others. But the calls can come anyplace. I got one in Oklahoma City and one in Lake Charles. Ruby said he called her when we were in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and two nights later Bake got one in Nashville. It’s somebody who’s always around, and mostly it’s a pretty small world.”

  But that meant almost nothing, Dani thought. It could be one of the stock handlers or a pickup man—even one of the judges. By the time she got to the motel, she wanted only to forget it, so she stripped off her sweaty clothes and lay down on the bed for an hour, sleeping soundly. She woke up with a start, then stayed in the shower for twenty minutes, letting the cool water sluice away the pressures. The phone rang, and she ignored it, but when it continued insistently, she stepped out of the shower and, grabbing a towel, made a wet track to the small table beside the bed.

  “Hello?”

  There was a brief silence, then a voice said, “Well, now, Miss Ross, you’re a hard young lady to catch.”

  Instantly an alarm went off in Dani’s head, and she thought, It’s the Creep! But she kept her voice steady as she demanded, “Who is this?”

  “Why, I understand you call me the Creep, Miss Ross. But I never let a little thing like name-calling disturb me.”

  Dani had never heard the voice before, she was sure of that. She had a good ear for voices and could recognize instantly any that she knew, but this one was not one of those. It was a man—she was certain of that. Not that it was deep; it was a tenor voice, higher than that of many women. But there was, she decided, something masculine in it.

  “I suppose you know why I’m calling?” Mockery laced the voice, and he made it sound as though it were simply a matter of minor business of some sort.

  Dani warned, “You’re wasting your time. I don’t have any money.”

  “Oh, now, lef s not begin on a bad note, Miss Ross. Or may I call you Dani?”

  “I don’t want you to call me anything,” Dani rapped out, making a quick decision. “If I hear from you again, I’ll call the police.” Then she slammed the phone down. The water was dripping from her body, puddling the floor, but she ignored it. She stood there staring at the phone, and as she had expected it rang again at once.

  “Hello?”

  “Now, this isn’t smart, you know?” The voice hardened, and he went on, “Look, I know you’re not making a lot of money. And I’m not going to ask for a lot. That wouldn’t be smart, and I’m smart, Dani—very smart! And I think you’re smart, too. It’s like insurance. You pay a premium, then you’re covered.”

  Dani didn’t want to cave in too quickly, so for several minutes, she argued with the caller. Finally she repeated, “I can’t pay much.”

  “Only a hundred dollars, Dani. You won that much yesterday. And you’re going to win a lot more; I can see that. You’ve got what it takes. Why, I’ve seen every great barrel racer in the business, and you’re as good as any of them.”

  “Never mind the snake oil!” Dani told him. “I’ll pay your ‘premium’ this time, but you leave me alone after this.”

  “Well, I can see you’re upset, so we’ll just get down to business. There’s a party tonight, thrown by Clyde Lockyear and his lovely wife Frances. You be at that party—with the money in your purse.”

  “What do I do with it?”

  “Just have it, Dani. You’ll be told what to do sometime during the party.”

  “All right.”

  “Fine! Fine! We’re going to get along, I can see that!” The voice changed slightly, and Dani could sense a dangerous quality in the speaker as he added, “But one word of warning—nothing personal, I promise you—just don’t try to get smart. Like if you told the police, you’d be very sorry.” He paused, then sneered, “Remember Tarzan? You wouldn’t like for Biscuit to wind up with his legs broken, screaming in pain, would you? It’s not a nice sound, even when it’s someone else’s horse. But when you love an animal like you love Biscuit—well, it’s almost unbearable.”

  “I—I won’t call the police.”

  “Now, that’s fine! I knew you were a smart girl!”

  The phone went dead, and Dani stood there, staring at it. The threat to Biscuit had caused a raw shock to run along her nerves, and her hand was so unsteady that she missed the cradle on her first attempt to put the phone down.

  Mechanically she dried off, then brushed her hair. When she had gone over her hair with a curling iron, she glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven, and the party would start at eight. Her first thought was to find Luke, but he didn’t answer his phone, and she remembered that he was with Ruby. Next she thought of calling Ben, but she shook it off. He could do nothing.

  For a long time she sat down in a chair, thinking hard, and finally she made a decision. She got up and dressed, wearing one of the two fancy outfits she’d bought in New Orleans—silver pants and an orchid shirt, both fitting like gloves. She fixed her hair carefully, pulling it back and adding a silver bow to hold it in place. She put on silver hoop earrings and sprayed cologne on her neck and wrists.

  Finally Dani walked over to her suitcase, which lay in the bottom of the small closet. Bringing it to the bed, she opened it, then reached into the zippered section on one end. It contained only one object, and she removed it slowly, then stood staring down at it as it rested in her hand.

  A lady-detective model, she seemed to hear Ben’s voice, and the moment he’d given it to her flashed before her eyes. Holds five slugs instead of six, which makes it lighter. A shorter barrel and a smaller grip. Just right for a woman to slip into her handbag, he’d said.

  There was a lethal beauty in the gun, and Dani felt admiration for the smooth symmetry but revulsion at the knowledge of the deadly power that lurked in the weapon.

  Her hand trembled, and she swayed slightly, fighting off the memories that began to swarm in her mind’s eye, but finally she set her jaw and put five loads in the empty chambers. Snapping the cylinder shut, she moved to the dressing table, picked up the small silver clutch bag, dropped the .38 inside, then turned and left the room.

  11

  The Drop

  * * *

  Luke came awake slowly, his head throbbing as if a pile driver were attacking his brain. He went through one of those wild and frightening moments of complete disorientation, fear sweeping over him as he tried to figure out where he was. He was lying down, and there was a damp cloth over his face. Only when he reached up and yanked it away did a sense of presence come ebbing back.

  He was lying on a pale blue couch in Ruby Costner’s motor home, and as he sat up slowly, trying to keep his head as still as possible, he thought of the hairy head of the bull ramming him. The thought coupled with the act of sitting up brought a grunt and at once he was aware of a movement to his left. Ruby came into his line of vision, knelt down to his level, and said, “Honey, are you feeling better?”

  “Better than what?” he demanded, his voice thick and slurred. He blinked and tried to get up, but she pushed his shoulders down. “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s about six,” Ruby told him. “You’ve only been asleep a couple of hours.”

  Luke tried twisting his head slowly. When his head didn’t fall off, he questioned, “What was that pill you gave me, Ruby?”

  “Just some kind of pain pill I got a year ago. It sure works good, doesn’t it?”

  “Dandy.” Luke focused his eyes on her. She was wearing some sort of sheer, peach-colored robe that shimmered under the overhead light. He had never seen her in anything but the standard dress for rodeo girls—worn Wranglers, western shirt, and a big hat. Now as she leaned over him, he caught the scent of soap and perfume and girl. “I need a drink of water,” he whispered. “My tongue feels like it’s growing mushrooms.”

  “I’ll get it,” Ruby offered quickly. She rose and went to the small refrigerator and as she removed the ice said, “You really took a hard lick. I was afraid you were hurt bad
, Luke.” She brought over the tall glass of ice water, and as he drank it thirstily, suggested, “This is better than going to that old room of yours, isn’t it?”

  Luke vaguely remembered arguing with her that he was able to go to his room, but she insisted on bringing him to her place. “Yeah, it sure is.” He looked around slowly, taking in the compact kitchen, which included a dishwasher, noting the fine stereo with twin Bose speakers, and the compact but comfortable arrangements of the lounging furniture. The key color was pale blue, but the curtains were coordinated, as was everything else. “This is all right, Ruby.” He nodded. “Must have cost a bundle.”

  “About two thousand dollars a foot,” she told him. She sat down beside him on the couch, her leg pressing against his. “I got tired of motel rooms, and you can’t take a three-bedroom house with you on the road.”

  “Had it long? It looks pretty new.”

  “I got it two years ago.” She hesitated, then seemed to decide something. “It was a present from Clint.”

  Sixkiller studied her, thought of what she had said, but only commented, “It’s plush.”

  “Does that shock you?” Ruby asked. “You’ve been around a little. You’re probably thinking, He didn’t give it to her for nothing. Aren’t you?”

  “Not thinking much of anything, Ruby,” Luke responded evenly. “Guess that bull butted out what few brains I had. But I made me a rule a long time ago. I let people do what they want.”

  “Pretty good rule,” Ruby agreed. Suddenly she leaned against him, her body pressing against his arm. It was an open invitation, and she sat there, watching him carefully. “What do you want to do right now, Luke?”

  Sixkiller was tempted. She was a beautiful woman, and his experience told him that she was his for the taking. Somehow he felt a sudden tiny warning that he had experienced a few times. More than once in his duties as a policeman he had heard it—or felt it—and he had some scars to prove that to ignore whatever it was could be dangerous.